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ghostbsuter · 5 months

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He's hiding, the half collapsed pillar in an abandoned office building, halfway ruined and completely left to collapse in metropolis.

His core is pulsing, air freezing and eyes not focused.

Metropolis is big and bright.

There is no way they could get him here, not with kryptonian heroes at its beck and call. Danny saw Supergirl save the day, the big blue at her tail, saving civilians.

Danny followed the official daily planet channel and reads along every line Lois Lane and her husband, Clark Kent, write each time, making people aware of problems, and most importantly exposing people.

The rich and corrupted.

So yes, is it frightening? Anxiety filling? Putting trust into complete strangers in hopes they'd uncover the Guys in White if they appear in the city?

Yes, yes it is.

He hopes Jon, the boy he has been helping with homework in a cafe, won't miss him too much in case it does happen.

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krirebr · 3 months

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Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore.

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.”

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.”

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked.

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.”

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.”

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing.

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on.

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you?

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut.

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact.

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t.

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on.

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on.

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it.

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.”

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered.

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

#dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #dark fic #dark!andy barber #dark!fic #reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters #fanfic #trapped au #kris wrote something

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rosesradio · 1 month

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the ceaseless trio ✨🌙

i don’t usually post my cross-stitch things, though this is one i’ve worked on for several months & am pretty proud of. tumblr may reduce the image to like four pixels but feel free to zoom in & see the little squares, made with love etc 🫶

#this isn’t me advertising my fic Or Whatever i’m just explaining the origin of ‘the ceaseless trio’ 🧍#pjo #leo valdez #nico di angelo #piper mclean #valdangelo #eh it’s CE adjacent #rose's art #of sorts

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basilinixe · 3 days

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Hey hey hey

Vous pensez parfois au fait que la vie des Castafoltes (qui n'ont pas surmonté leur bug de fabrication aka 99% d'entre eux) est inévitablement intrinsèquement liée au mensonge ? Et que si vous aimez un Castafolte vous n'avez pas d'autre choix que de lui mentir constamment ?

Voilà c'est tout pour moi

#vdf #le visiteur du futur #yes i'm van der posting again #no one can stop me #jsp c'est l'idée du mensonge enrobé d'amour que je trouve extrêmement intéressante #you have no choice you *have* to lie to them #even if you hate it #even if you don't want to #otherwise you can't live with them #arg j'arrive pas à exprimer exactement la pensée que j'ai en tête #mais hopefully vous avez l'idée #anyway j'ai une fic en préparation à ce propos byeee

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buckttommy · 9 months

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not the worst day

not my usual but ! here it is !!! in all fairness, i DID start this fic sometime after tim and lucy's first date and sometime before grey found out but, like, what is time. so yeah ! enjoy !!!

1.9k | Rated T | No Archive Warnings Apply | link

Summary:

"Tim Bradford got shot in the chest today." Luna’s slow draw of breath is almost as damning as a startled gasp. Her hand tightens around his shoulder. "Is he—" "He's alive. Still in critical condition but the doctors are hopeful he'll make it." "So why the drink?" "Lucy," is all he says. It's enough. OR; Tim & Lucy's relationship is a secret until it's not.

Wade Grey is not a drinking man. He indulges from time to time in whatever's on hand—a bottle of jack from the living room shelf, a cold beer after a long day—but liquor’s never been his vice. On the days when humanity's sins threaten to cling to the bottom of his shoes and follow him home like an oil spill, he usually stops at a bar a couple miles from his house, orders a single cranberry vodka, and tries not to let his soul decay somewhere between there and his front door.

But tonight...

Tonight, he is a drinking man.

He stares into the fireplace, watching the undulating flicker until it paints starbursts of color over his vision as he throws back another shot. Presses the rim of the glass to his bottom lip and breathes. It's been a long day—the kind of long day that starts off slow and average and explodes into frenzy somewhere during the middle; the kind of day that doesn’t stop descending into chaos until someone, somewhere decides enough is enough and puts a stop to the bedlam as quickly as they started it, and he’s tired. Dog-tired in a way that makes him feel heavy and sick and old, but when Luna enters the room, something sleepy in his chest slowly yawns awake.

Ah, his bones sigh, there she is.

He sinks down deep into the brown sugar sweet of her love, followed closely by the steel gray wall of concern that she always tries to hide, and lets himself soak in her presence like a man dying of thirst. She’s quiet as she approaches, and even quieter when she sits down on the arm of the chair. Her small hand comes to rest on his shoulder, her fingertips ghosting the curve of his collarbone. Twenty-plus years and she still feels like home.

"Wade,” she says softly, “Come to bed.”

In a minute, is what he means to say. The words are already on his tongue, crowded up behind his teeth, but what he says instead is,

"Tim Bradford got shot in the chest today."

continue reading on ao3

#new fic wheeeeee !!!!!#jack.txt #tv: the rookie #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim x lucy #otp: some things matter more #my fic #au where i published this before season 5 ended lol ah well ce la vie

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dagonet · 3 months

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« Oh, ne faites pas cette tête. » déclare Aelis en réponse à la moue dédaigneuse qu’elle doit sans doute afficher. « Vous savez autant que moi que cette baignoire est assez grande pour deux. » — L'eau à la bouche, Aledane

#kaamelott #aelis #demetra #aelis x demetra #ui je lis des fics kaamelott en ce moment #série

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oh-my-damn · 5 months

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Who should I start writing about next? I'm not including Bucky in this poll bc he's already in the works and coming soon, dont worry 🤭

Visuals for the people who dont know

Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian from ACOTAR series

Ghost, König and Keegan from COD

Btw Ghost also looks like this sometimes (he is so baby girl 😌)

#help me decide #im looking for a new fandom lmaooo #im still gonna write for my fave CE characters #but i wanna branch out #im planning to write for more Seb Stan characters #but im fixating on ACOTAR and COD atm so im curious #would yall read it #mandy writes #acotar #cod #ghost #keegan #könig #fic recs #rhysand #azriel #cassian #smut

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krirebr · 3 months

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Trapped AU Masterlist

Summary: Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, punishment - See each installment for specific warnings - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Caught Up in Your Trap

You spend your first day in your new home.

Beyond These Walls In Front of Me

Andy brings you into a new part of your home.

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas

Andy gives you an early Christmas present. Why aren't you happier about it?

Continuing AU

#dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber #defending jacob #dark fic #series masterlist #dark series #kris wrote something #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters

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rosesradio · 2 months

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i think i want my life’s mission to be making fanfics that make richard riordan viscerally uncomfortable. not just like “oh lol Leo and Nico kissed isn’t that weird??” no. it’s not enough. i need this man to fist fight me if he sees me on the street.

#i don’t even hate the guy he’s alright i guess i just find the q & a on his webbed site silly & goofy #this isn’t about CE btw that fic is tame & he’d think it’s a little weird (+ yell at me for the Adult Video Joke Leo makes) but not mind #i’m talking dark fic ideas way in the future. one day.#valdangelo #pjo

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randomnameless · 2 days

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Tiens, on est le 21 avril aujourd'hui?

Ca va faire l'anniversaire des 22 ans de Jean-Marie au second tour et où pas mal de personnes censées se sont rendues compte qu'il y avait toute une frange de cons en France : "moi pas content moi mettre coup de pied dans fourmilière alors moi voter pour vieux monsieur qui a formé son parti avec des anciens Waffen-SS et qui a torturé en Algérie et compare les homosexuels au "sel dans la soupe" parce que moi vraiment pas content "

Et depuis on a de plus en plus de cons à tous les niveaux - mais bon, je reste un blog fandom donc parler trop de politique ça va me transformer en bloc de sel géant.

Par contre, avec le fandom actuel sur Fodlan, ben je vois que c'est une tendance de fond apparemment, et ça dépasse nos frontières (ouais on est pas les seuls cons au monde! Youpi!) et c'est toujours aussi inquiétant - je ne parle pas des délurés dans leur caniveau dans un certain serveur de Discord(e) - mais juste un commentaire banal genre :

"J'ai vraiment aimé ta fic du coup j'ai écris la mienne!"

Je me sens un peu flattée qu'un des trucs randoms que j'avais posté ai pu rendre des gens contents ?

"Du coup j'ai aussi repris l'idée de Lycaon l'hybride Nabatéen"

Cool, enfin c'est pas juste moi, les demi dragons, c'est un peu une tradition dans FE et les mondes de fantasy, et puis Fodlan le sous-entend avec certains persos et dialogues et...

"Alors dans mon idée, les hybrides tombent tout le temps malade, jusqu'à que leur descendance ait moins de sang de Nabatéen parce que c'est ça qui les rend fragiles"

... Attends, quoi ??

(gros gros sel sous la coupure)

Moi dans mes délires c'est l'histoire clichée du "il a du sang de créature magique donc ça les rends plus forts/demi-dieux etc etc" avec l'analogie traditionnelle du "ben s'ils peuvent faire des bébés c'est qu'ils ont pas si différents et les deux peuples peuvent s'entendre au lieu de se foutre sur la gueule tout le temps" - il n'a jamais été question de "oui ben l'hybride est mal foutu génétiquement parce que le sang d'une des races n'est pas bon et il survit que s'il se débarrasse de sa partie "autre" " !

Et puis merde, je sais qu'on est dans une fanfic et une oeuvre de fiction, mais c'est super inconfortable de lire ce genre de trucs! Sans rentrer dans les "théories" à la con, ce genre de saloperies a été utilisé dans la vraie vie pour justifier de la merde!

Enfin quoi, on est sur de la fiction, mais on explique que "il est malade parce qu'il n'est pas de sang pur ??" Et ça c'est censé être, genre, normal, et pas un twist où en fait c'est un super raciste qui a "créé" cette maladie pour garder des gens "purs"? C'est juste, euh, "naturel"????

oui bon j'ai relu bleach récemment

Comment un de mes posts a pu inspirer ça?

Tiens, ça me fait penser à cette autre fic qui m'intéressait bien aussi :

Guerre des Héros? Check

Willy ? Check

Lycaon est un hybride? Triple check

Et puis dans les notes de l'auteur "ah oui c'était compliqué pour l'élever en tant que bébé, mais une fois qu'il avait passé sa phase de nabatéen* ça passait"

*Ok, c'est de l'anglais et j'ai peut-être mal compris le "grew out of his nabatean traits" ???

Bordel ça commençait tellement bien, et ça finit comme les épinards de la cantine.

Encore une fois, on est sur de la fanfic alors bon, si quelqu'un écrit sur quelque chose ça ne veut pas forcément dire qu'il est d'accord avec tout ce qu'il écrit ou veut les promouvoir, j'entends bien.

Mais tout de même, je trouve que parler de ça, dans un fandom qui comporte des latrines comme ce fameux sous-serveur, et dont l'oeuvre principale est centrée autour d'une "waifu qui est en fait méchant mais trop kawaii alors tu te sens tristoune de la dégommer mais comme elle trop kawaii personne va lui dire de la boucler ou tout ceux qui le font sont dépeints comme des vilains pas beaux méchants qui à la fin trouvent qu'elle avait pas tort" dont le leitmotiv reste tout de même la volonté de débarrasser le monde du "sang de dragon" (Et personne dans le jeu ne tique ou ne remarque ça pour sortir - à l'époque ce que j'aurais appelé une tarte à la crème mais vu le fandom et les temps actuels ce n'est en fait pas si commun??? - "le racisme ce n'est pas bien" et que tous les persos mettent à leur sauce des "oui mais c'est vrai que le sang de dragon ce n'est pas bien"!) franchement c'est très très bof.

Est-ce que ces "théories racialistes" sur les "hybrides Nabatéens" c'est juste de la liberté littéraire dans le genre de la "darkfic" ou du "dead dove do not eat", ou est-ce que ce sont des effluves nauséabondes qui émanent des toilettes, ou des personnes qui ont joué au jeu et ne se rendant pas compte des énormités de Dedel - qui sont malgré tout passées sous silence par les développeurs et scénaristes eux-mêmes parce qu'il faut vendre des goodies ?

Ça me gonfle parce que normalement, je me dis toujours qu'il faut consommer des choses auxquelles on est pas forcément attirés dès le départ pour élargir ses horizons et peut-être apprécier d'une autre manière quelque chose - mais avec cet univers, avec un fandom (et des jeux) qui nous bassinent en long, en large et en travers "ouin ouin tout ce qui ne va pas dans le monde c'est à cause du sang de Nabatéens" et chie sur, ben, les persos Nabatéens eux-mêmes, une fic qui a part sur un postulat "les hybrides Nabatéens existent, mais ne sont pas viables/en bonne santé/gérables s'ils ont trop de sang Nabatéen", je ne peux/veux plus les lire/voir/écouter.

Comme pour l'utilisateur de Tumblr que j'avais bloqué, sans avoir jamais interagit avec cette personne, mais parce que j'avais lu un billet en mode "oulala rien que de penser à Dedel qui aurait du sang de Nabatéen [encore dans un contexte de demi-nabatéens] ça me rend physiquement malade!" parce que, non seulement, ben ça veut dire que cette personne n'a visiblement pas compris ce qu'est un Emblème dans le jeu, et surtout, parce que ce genre de trucs avec le fandom de FE16, avant même que je ne découvre le trou à fange qu'est le sous-serveur de la Discorde, c'est un gros gros signe que cette vision qu'à cet utilisateur du jeu et la mienne sont tellement incompatibles qu'on ne pourra jamais discuter sereinement dessus, donc blocage automatique.

Je vois le "fandom" comme quelque chose de relaxant où j'ai envie d'être chill et de juste, apprécier des trucs plutôt que de râler (j'ai déjà la vraie vie pour ça), mais là c'est juste, je pense, de la déception (une origo gentis sur les Hresvelg! Un des trucs sur lesquels j'avais déblatéré il y a longtemps! C'est tellement génial de voir que quelqu'un d'autre a eu l'idée d'en faire une! Si seulement il n'y avait pas eu ce foutu commentaire "et en fait les métisses sont malades parce qu'ils ne sont pas viables à cause du sang de l'un de leurs parents mais si ce sang se dilue ils vont mieux"...) et la simple coincidence qu'aujourd'hui on est le 21 avril qui vaut ce bloc de sel.

#french post #rant #attention c'est salé il faut prendre un citron #pour les fanfics en général je suis plus en mode j'aime pas je lis pas et puis voilà chacun ses gouts #mais le 'c'est à cause du sang de cette race que les petits métisses sont malades les pauvres' c'est complètement lunaire #il y a des théories de merde qui circulent actuellement dans la vraie vie et utilisent ça #je pense quand même qu'il y a une différence entre faire de la fiction sur des demi dieux qui vivent des aventures et ont des pouvoirs #grâce au sang d'une race d'êtres fantastiques #et une fiction où on t'explique que des demi-humains sont malades parce qu'ils ne sont pas humains #à cause du sang 'autre' qu'ils ont mais que si ce sang est dilué leur futurs enfants iront mieux #et que par ailleurs ce 'sang autre' est décrié dans l'oeuvre de base comme la lie de la société et la source de tous les maux #je pense que je vais rendre en muet cette fic sur Ao3 #je ne sais pas ce qui m'a le plus agacée avec cette histoire #le fait que je suis déçue par une fic mais bon il reste toujours l'adage du si t'es pas contente t'as qu'à écrire #ou le fait de tomber sur une fanfic rédigée par radio courtoisie #Allez pour la route je mets les tag #FE16 #fandom woes

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madillhethen · 1 year

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Also this dropped for the Arcade Collab on JP FGO. I know I’m late and someone else probably posted it but have it again cause why not.

Emiya giving off strong dad/older bro vibes here is perfection.

#fate grand order #archer emiya #fgo #emiya #heroic spirit emiya #fate series #fate stay night #craft essence #kid gil #kid Gilgamesh #hans christen anderson #arcade collab #kid Gil is so cute #second CE where Emiya is hanging with Kid Gil like this man will take care of the kid even if that’s his mortal enemy lol #dilf energy #this CE is hotter than any smut fic/doujin y’all ever read

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1000night · 1 year

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DILF HP AU

Okay so let's start our DILF HP AU 🤤🤤🤤

Settings: So you're the new and one of the four girls enter Hogwarts, the university of Magic.

Warnings:have smut so midor don't interactions, and don't like don't read. Polyamory, chubby and short readers.

All my characters has the tend to be soft dark

Gryffindor

Sunshine and Grumpy trope

You know cats love sunshine and most of them are only share prcious with their family.

When you first show up in the Open Ceremony and be sorted to Gryffindor, they claimed you.

You want some chivalry Princess or knights? Well, you do have eight of them but they're beasts with human guise.

You think the most easy going ones are Steve or Hal? Well, you're not wrong. They're gentle and couldn't stare at you like you're a prey. And they're always try to warn other boys don't do something to let you feel shyness and feel uncomfortable (though you always feel hot under their stares)

But Steve's the first one enter your door room and always brushed your arms, chests , waist or hips 'unintentionally'.

As for Hal, there's a period of time, when your period near, you'd dream about those boys...something...unholy.

You dreamed that the boys are take turns to eat you out and Hal usually is the longest and make you scream the loudest.

Your whimpers and moans always trigger his lust and his sinful tongue would send you to the cloud nine.

“So pretty...taste so good, Sunshine. Give me more, come on. Just one more...” He would hold your thighs and spread them wider, his other hand would stroke your breast, pinch the harden nipples.

When your hips buckle up to rub on his face, he sipps your juice loudly.

“Atta' girl. Always so sweet, so good for me. And so responsive.” He licks a long stripe on your clit and curl his tongue to play with your nerve bundle, you shiver and the tighten coil in your stomach snaps.

He devours whatever you give him down his greedy mouth and laps you clean. He gives your trembling thighs several feather kisses and he look up at your eyes.

“Not enough, Sunshine. I'm starving and cold. Now, you can warm me up, right?”

And he crawls up, hover over you while he undoes his boxers.

You're too stunning and so fucked out that you can't think straight now.

He spears into you slowly and sigh in relief, he gives your sore pussy some pets and shallow thrusts to let her adjust his size and girth.

He kisses your forehead and nuzzle into your neck.

“Now, sleep, we have classes tomorrow and I have to wait until next week.”

Hufflepuff

Friends to lovers trope

This house has the most best actors and the nerdy guy.

They're all friendly to you and always help you finish your struggles.

But they all think they're not attractive like other houses(Especially from Gryffindor). Or have other conditions to attract women.

So, you want to repay them as their friends.

Only if you know that's one of the traps...

You're sitting on Dennis, and Ryan are kissing you sloppy. His large and warm hands roam around your sweaty body, squeeze your heavy breasts and he moans.

While your hands are stroking Ryan's length.

“You feels so good, Sweetheart. Such a pretty little thing. So soft and plump, and you taste divine.”

“And she's so kind to let us have her sweet pussy and touch her goddess body. Ah, Sweetheart, I don't know what I done to deserve this.”

You pants and try to find words when they kiss down your neck, Ryan sucking your nipple while his hand rolls the either one, and Dennis nipps and leave small hickeys down your back.

“Don't, don't say that, you two are worthy...Oh fuck! Right there Denny, please please please, ah...!”

You can feel the cocks grow hard then seconds ago and their thrusts became more rough.

“ Say that again, Sweetheart. Please praise me more...oh God I'm gonna cum.”

You can hear Dennis started to sob, Ryan buries his head into your breasts and bite the soft flesh gently. But his hands are cover yours on his cock and stroking faster

“Ngh...You are both handsome and strong, everytime I saw your bodies, those chest, those abs, and oh god those thighs, I would feel so horny and I have to change my soaked panties.”

“And look at those hands! Those huge, slender and beautiful hands. I wish they could hold my waist or hips or my breasts when I feel tired or just hole me. And it's even better to let me snuggle into them, or let me suck them when I anxious—!”

The men both increase the pace and growl while you screaming for the feelings mix pain and pleasure.

“Oh, oh! Sweetheart, I, I can't hold it anymore.”

“Cum for me, boys. Fill me up please.”

Your words is the last straw, your bodies are shaking and still feel dizzy.

“That's... that's so amazing. Thank you Sweetheart.” Dennis nuzzles your temple with his cheek , and slowly pull out.

Your eyes widen when you see the thick fluid in the condom. Dennis blushed and give you a shyly smile.

Ryan back with a wet clothes and clean his mess on your chest to your tummy.

Ryan kisses your forehead.

“We love you, Sweetheart. And thank you for doing this for us.”

#1000night masterlist #1000drabble series #ce boys fic #ss boys fic #dilf hp au

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