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georgiapeach30513 · 9 months

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I Can See You

Summary: Steve was new to this modern world. And trying to figure out the technology and all he wanted was home. Looking up 1940s women, he wasn’t prepared for what he sees. You. Feeding into his every fantasy, and then some. It becomes an obsession a need to see you everyday. To have you everyday. To keep you. Every. Day. In his bed. Just where you belong

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Cam Girl!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, online sex work, cam girl, masturbation, toy play, butt plug, squirting, licking, kidnapping, obsession, dark, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2K

Steve Rogers Masterlist

“You should date,” Steve turns to look towards Natasha, glowering at her. “What? Dating is normal. What do you have against dating?”

“Dating is different now than it was when…never mind you wouldn’t understand,” he goes to stand, but Natasha pulls at his arm, “What?”

“I get it. The women now aren’t like the women in the 1940s, but is that a bad thing? Look, Google is your friend. I’m sure there’s someone out there who believes in your weird standards for women. Guess what, Steve? Some even wear the clothes, too. Google is your friend.”

Google is your friend. A sentiment that was running through Steve’s mind the rest of the day. Google is a friend. Was a friend? How could a search engine be a friend? How could he find anything that was remotely close to the 1940s in modern times. How could he ever find someone that held his values, and how would he know?

Settling in at home, his eyes scan over the stupid phone. Who needed a phone that could do anything more than call people. But there was a Google on there. Women of today weren’t hideous creatures, but there was something in the ones that he had met. They weren’t…exactly what he was looking for. Too eager and leaving nothing to the imagination.

Google is your friend, but it was just a stupid machine. Nothing ever made sense in this time. People had taken something simple and made it nonsensically more difficult. And for what reason? But there the phone sits, and if Google was a friend, how could it help Steve?

What could a machine possibly do for Steve? How could it help his need to get out some frustrations? Things weren’t the same, and they definitely didn’t look the same. But he was told Google had archived photos. And videos…

Reaching quickly to the phone, but only because he was bored, and everyone needed to get off from time to time. His fingers search for the buttons he’s looking for before he hits search. Anticipating it would take much longer than the instant gratification of women upon women, and then a short clip. Legs that were covered in hosiery, and a quick squat of the woman. Her skirt flares up, exposing her bum to Steve.

He watches that clip way too many times before clicking on it. Taking him straight to your website. Pictures of you dressed in the most beautiful 1940s frocks, and posing with the prettiest smile and brightest red lips. Unfairly there are some photos with strategically placed blocks over your body. A button demands him to click it, and there’s even more photos.

Still these photos are annoyingly blocked out, but adding a credit card he would have access to remove them. Steve sets his phone down, taking a deep breath. His cock was pressing hard against his pants at just the tease of your body. He knew what he was going to get. You. Every part of you. Playing into his every fantasy while you whimpered his name.

Standing up, he awkwardly paces his living room. He wants to see it all. It was like you catered to just him. What could thirty dollars a month hurt. He would get to wake up to see you. Go to bed stroking his cock. It wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn't be a distraction. This is what he needed.

He doesn’t hesitate to put in his credit card information, and he hears the sound of your voice, “Welcome, Soldier,” why did that sound so sexy? Not even knowing what some of the buttons mean, he just wants to look at you. You are a dirty girl. Showing every part of yourself, and watching you ride a red dildo while your tits bounce around has him quaking where he sits.

A ping in the corner of his phone makes him lose focus, ‘Thanks for the payment. What would you like me to call you?’

He couldn’t let people know that America’s golden boy was watching fetish porn, and a very specific fetish of a 1940s housewife. ‘Captain.’

‘Hey, Captain, are you new around here?’

‘Yes. Brand new.’

‘Aww, for new subscribers I always give them a private video. What would you like to see, Captain? Whatever it is you want. For your eyes only.’

‘How often do I get private videos?’

‘First one is free.’

‘I want one every morning and evening.’

‘Oh, Captain, you are a naughty boy,’ Steve’s cock trembles at your words. He just wishes he could hear your voice. ‘I tell you what Captain, let me do the first one, and you can decide after if you want to continue our private little conversations. How does that sound, big boy?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Are you hard right now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to see my pussy? I can show you what toys I have.’

‘Okay,’ he takes a deep breath as his chat turns into a live video feed, and there your pretty face was. Giving him a quick wave before turning the camera to your treasure trove of toys.

“Which will it be, Captain? Can I turn your mic on so I can hear you? I get off to men with pretty sounds?” Responding with a yes, you turn on his mic, letting him look at every toy. They were all shapes, but one particularly caught his eyes.

“That one,” it wasn’t a genius to figure out which one he was talking about. The red white and blue one. With a name like Captain, he seemed to have a bit of a Captain America kink.

“I have something else that matches,” you sweetly tell him. Moving over to something Steve had early heard about. A pretty little butt plug with his shield on the end. “You want to see me stuffed fully, Captain?”

“I would like that,” his voice cracks, and you realize just how innocent he is to this brand of porn.

“Is it because you like sharing your dames?” Steve groans out yes as you position the phone on a tripod. “Who would you share me with?”

“A friend. He…he’d get your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask as you stuff the plug into your ass. You were sure he’d love seeing you ready for him. Coming back into frame, you place the dildo on the floor, and turn to look at him. “What would you like your doll to do, Captain?” Finger in your mouth, you playfully tease him.

He would love to take his time and watch you more carefully, but his cock is angry and in desperate need of release. “I want to see…see you…I want,” the sweet boy was struggling with what he wanted to view. Stuttering, and unable to vocalize exactly what it was he needed.

“You want me to slowly,” you undo each button carefully. Steve didn’t want slow. Steve wanted to fuck you. This would work for now. But…

“No. Not slow. Put…I want to see the shield.”

“Of course you do, Captain,” it was like the angels parted the clouds, and there was heaven right in your tits. Taking off your bra, you give your nipples a little pinch before walking over to the toy.

“Don’t wait,” he mutters as you move to your knees. He tries to pretend it's his cock you’re grabbing as you sink over the cock. It wasn’t the perfect view, but he sees that red, white, and blue cock split you open. A little glimpse of that shield in your ass.

Hands in front of you, you lean forward, and there it was. That shield in your ass. “Fuck yourself. And turn back to look at me,” peeking over your shoulder you give him a sly grin. Moving over the toy.

“I hear you, Captain. How good does my pussy feel?”

“So good,” he grunts out, pumping his fist around his cock. Why had he neglected to do this for so long. “My pussy.”

“Yes, Captain. This pussy is all yours.”

“Mine.”

“It’s so warm, and wet, and…how tight is your pussy?”

It’d be tighter once he had someone to stuff your ass. Get to watch you come over two cocks, while you beg for him to pet you. “Oh, Captain, you feel so good.”

He’d feel better if that was his actual cock. “Captain, you’re so deep.”

That cock was nothing to Steve’s size. He would make you have tears in your eyes as you took every bit of his length and girth. “Captain, I love the way you feel when you’re in my stomach. You’re so deep,” you give a smirk to the camera as your juices spill onto the floor.

“Oops,” giggling. The giggles. The mess. “I made such a mess for you, Captain. You got me so wet.”

“Yeah. Go harder. Make your Captain proud,” your ass cheeks recoil as you bounce fast. Stretched out so pretty, and still spurting your mess into the floor. He’d have to spank you for being such a sloppy little slut. Make you watch Bucky’s tongue lap up all your mess.

Your cream coats that dildo, and he knows you are capable of so much more. “Captain!”

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growls, choking on his cock. He was almost there. Could practically feel your walls clench around him.

“Captain!”

“I know. Be a good girl, and come,” you scream out as euphoria shoots down to your nether regions. Wishing that he could choke you in that moment. There weren't too many things you hadn’t experienced in this line of work. But there was this demanding quality to this Captain.

“Now, be good for Captain, and clean up your mess. With your tongue,” you want to scream. That is the hottest shit you have ever heard. Demanding that you clean up your own mess. “I’d have someone help you.”

“You want someone to come play with me?”

“Yeah, but they’ll leave. You have to let your Captain take care of you.”

“And Captain always takes the best care with his pussy, too.”

“Mine,” he lets the word roll off his tongue, while you licks up your arousal. His. All. His.

——

Opening up your apartment door, you stand at the entrance for far too long. There were roses on the table. A dozen roses from the looks of it. Steve was becoming steadily more needy. Wanting to monopolize your time so you couldn’t find new clients. It was fine at first, until he became too obsessive.

Playful possession had turned into something he in fact demanded. You look down the hallway of your complex, unsure if you wanted to go in. This was a job that was for extra money, and Steve had made it clear he demanded you and wanted you when he wanted it. And now the roses.

Of course those roses could be from anyone, but you knew they weren’t. They were in your fucking apartment. They were only from one person. Him. Captain. The hall was too quiet. Just as quiet as your home. It was like you were the only one in the room. In the building.

“Steve?” You ask, taking a step back into the hall. An unfamiliar smell is surrounding you. Clean. Fresh. It was him.

“Steve?” You tremble. Ready to bolt. Anywhere but here. You had to cut him off. The money wasn’t even that good. He had lost his mind.

“Steve?” Yelping when arms wrap around your waist, but his hand covers your mouth gently. Pressing his nose to your neck, he inhales deeply.

“Honey, I’m home. And I expect you to say my name properly. I can’t have you available to any other men. Your site has been taken down. Your apartment will be swept. All those toys trashed, because you have the real Captain now. It’ll be like you never existed. Your new life starts today. And I’ll make sure you are the perfect housewife for me. Bear my children, and live to serve me. Now, be a good girl, and thank your Captain for rescuing you.”

His hand is now wet from the tears that spill onto him, and you try and shake your head no. “Say, thank you, my Captain.”

“Thank you, my Captain,” you sound like a scared mouse. And he knows it. With one maniacal chuckle he starts dragging you down the hallway. No one will ever remember you. No one will ever rescue you. You are now his. And he has no intention of letting you go.

Now…thank him.

Masterlist

#i can see you #steve rogers #steve rogers x cam girl #steve rogers x cam girl!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fics #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans characters #marvel #dark!steve rogers

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dungeonpuppykai · 10 months

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Summary: It was meant to be a light hearted joke when Y/n had declared that she and Lloyd were married after he had put his insignia band in her ring finger. Little did the younger one know, the humour had not been mutual.

Pairing: Mafia Ex-Boyfriend Lloyd Hansen | Naive!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Lloyd Hansen. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Noncon/dubcon, Lloyd, gun play, dacryphilia, fear kink, age gap, house wife kink, husband kink, wife kink, slight breeding kink, boot riding, degradation, humiliation, dumbification, probably misogyny, pet names. The reader also pees herself out of fear.

Note: English is not my first language but whoring is and so this came to me when I was literally half asleep at like 6 in the morning. Please be nice or don't say anything. Feedback (that isn't straight up hate) is always much appreciated!

MASTERLIST

"Hey, baby sunshine" the near slur in his words caused her eyes to roll.

"God, hold your horses, I am coming!" Y/n yelled at the door in annoyance as she trudged her tired feet to it. "Hold your horses!" She had had a long day so she couldn't be bothered with the peep hole, clicking the locks open as she prepared herself for the crazy lady that lived across the hall since no one else could rival how she could bang doors. It didn't help that she seemed to have a personal vendetta against the young female. "Wha-" her words locked up in her throat at the sight that awaited her behind the door.

Come on.

Not this again.

Could this day end already?

"What do you want, Lloyd?" Raising an eyebrow at her ex to express her annoyance with the unexpected visit, the female crossed her arms over her chest as she awaited a response.

"Can I come in?"

"Can you?" The sadist pulled the saddest eyes he could and coupled it with a kicked puppy expression. Though the girl knew he was anything but.

"Come on, bunny. We had a life" Lloyd tried his best persuasive tone that did not do anything for him since the only way he knew to talk was his commanding and authoritative usual.

Always expecting obedience.

"Correct, Lloyd. We had a life" she stepped back and wrapped her arms along the edge of the door. "And it's over" his foot stuck between it and the frame to restrict it from closing. The female sighed as she looked up at him with tired and pleading eyes. "Leave."

"Five minutes?" If it weren't Y/n giving him the attitude -that he frankly could not fathom why she was-, he was sure he had already pushed them to their knees, broken them into submission and probably put them out of their misery.

He could never lay an ill spirited finger on her.

Not his little sunshine, no.

Everything Lloyd did ever since meeting her was for them.

For her good.

Whether she liked it or not.

"Lloyd." Her tone was clipped.

"I am not leaving here until you do" the determination in his voice was clear.

In the year she had dated him, Y/n knew he could be awfully stubborn if he really put his foot down.

"Five minutes." She couldn't help but sigh after the warning before leaving the door for him to enter and walking to the living room to plop on one of the couches.

Lloyd snorted as he took a seat besides her, causing the female to uncomfortably scoot over.

"So, what? Now your husband is so bad that you won't even offer him a glass of water when he comes home?" I fucking knew it. The moment he wormed his way into her walls and got what he wanted, he was back to that taunting and cocky default tone of his.

"What the hell are you on about, now?" Y/n turned to look at him, confused. "What is this new–"

"This," she nearly jumped when he reached for her hand and pulled it out of its lock over her chest, propping one digit under her ring finger to make it stand out amongst the others even more. "Remember this?" His insignia ring twinkled under the lights.

Fuck.

Wearing it had become such a habit that she hadn't even noticed it in the past week that had followed the break up after the girl had accidentally watched a footage of him torturing– no, tormenting a suspect when looking for something on the computer in his study. Though Y/n used the unit often, it was an established rule to not access his work files and folders but this one had been on the desktop. The date showed that it was recent.

Betrayal had filled her veins as she had watched it with wide eyes in horror. Lloyd had told her that he was a businessman that funded government operations hence the mysterious agents that visited him in his study every once in a while. But this, it changed everything.

Not only was he a liar, but the video showed how sadistic and brutal he was. Y/n could almost not recognize the man enjoying the pain he was inflicting on the bound man begging for mercy.

She could not live with a man like that.

It was horrifying to think that she had been doing so for over a year at that point.

Memories flooded her brain as she looked up in his deep blue eyes, fear filling her senses the more his grip on her hand tightened.

Placing the massive bowl of nachos away that Y/n had failed to finish besides them, she wiped her fingers on one of the napkins on the table in front of her and Lloyd in the fancy entertainment room that he had in his mansion. She shook her head at the bowl as she leaned back against his chest and let him wrap his built arms around her form, perching his chin on the top of her head as he watched the movie that was playing on the huge screen in front of them.

She had told him that she liked to eat nachos while watching movies. So he had the house help prepare an entire pots' worth for her. And now at least half remained. The girl sighed and finally looked away from the delicious bowl and onto the screen. But it was some old movie that Lloyd swore was a masterpiece but she couldn't really understand the hype.

Her eyes travelled down to his thick arms now, fingers tracing the bulging veins. The action caused the male to press a kiss to her head which resulted in a surge of hundreds of butterflies in her stomach.

Y/n's lips quirked up as she felt the ring he wore on his pinky finger now, toying with it for a bit before she pulled it off his finger and put it on hers with a mischievous smile.

"What?" Her lips pouted as she furrowed her eyebrows. It didn't fit her smallest finger like his. She jabbed it back and forth to try and make it fit somehow but the ring hung loosely near her knuckle. "Ugh!"

"Your finger is smaller than Daddy's, baby" Lloyd's mustache tickled the shell of her ear as he took her hands in his and pulled the ring off. "Must be because you're such a tiny little bunny compared to him" she blushed and bit her lip.

He loved to make her feel the smallest he could.

"There we go, all fit and pretty" he pressed a kiss to her temple after sliding it on her ring finger where the ring locked comfortably against her skin almost as though they were meant for each other.

"Oopsie!" Y/n giggled as she tilted her head back to look at him. "We are married now!"

Lloyd had an amused smile on his face. "Nothing oopsie about that, little bunny" and he sealed it with a kiss.

"Agreed." The younger blushed harder as she giggled again due to how his mustache tickled her upper lip.

"That was then." Y/n replied back coldly as she pulled her hands from his. "Now is now. And it's different." Trying her best to suppress the shudder threatening to break its way into her voice, she went to pull the ring off. "You-"

"Don't." His darkening eyes locked on her fingers and tone became one of warning. "Y/n Y/L/N, do not."

Who did he think he was? Her lips turned into a firm line as she ripped the ring off her finger angrily.

"You lied to me- LLOYD!" Before the jewellery could completely come off her finger, the man had pounced onto her. "STOP! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!" Terror filled her body as she realized that her strength was no match to his.

Lloyd calmly pushed the ring back down on her finger. "Would you calm the fuck down already?" His tone was one that he had never used with her before. Cold droplets of sweat trickled down her back.

It was similar to the one he had been using in the video.

"P- Please."

"You didn't even give me a chance, sunshine. Good wives don't do that" his eyes were crazed as he caressed her fingers with no regard to her visibly upset state. "You just up and left with a silly little note while I was on the other side of the world working so hard for us and our future family like a loving husband." He sounded cross but still kissed the ring.

"You lied to me" Y/n could only whisper back, the only man she could see in front of her the one from the video.

"For us." His eyes finally flickered up to meet hers. "It was for your own good, bunny." When she tried to struggle, his jaw clenched and he pulled her into him before grabbing her by the jaw. His patience was wearing thin. How dare she? "And I would really appreciate it if you quit acting like I am some amateur criminal. I work for the government and I am an agent." Inching her face closer to his, he brushed their noses together before pecking her lips. "And a damn good one at that."

"No." He chuckled.

"No?" Lloyd went to pull something out of his back pocket. "You see, bunny. Dumb little wives such as you are too small to know anything wise to make decisions for themselves." Her body stilled when a bloody pistol came into her view. His other hand still held her by the jaw. "They need their husbands to show them the way. Regulate them with rules. Protect them under their wings." A strangled cry escaped the girl when he thought the barrel to her lips.

"Good little wives don't worry about anything other than keeping the house warm and clean for their man while he takes care of the rest. They are supportive and obedient." Her teeth started to chatter when he caressed her cheek with the weapon. "I thought you were a good wife too. But the little antic you pulled last week proved that there is much training ahead of you." Y/n could not recognize the man in front of her.

He was the polar opposite of the one she had lived with and loved for a whole year.

"L- Lloyd…"

"Yes, sunshine?" The male looked perfectly comfortable.

"Y- You're scaring me" hot tears spilled from her eyes.

"It is for your own good, little bunny." The tip of the gun traced the shape of her lips now. "You need to learn your place here. You want the truth, right? I will not only tell you but I'll show you it." A whimper escaped her as she silently cried in disbelief. Her tears did not seem to move him in the slightest.

"Kiss it" Lloyd's demand caused her heart rate to thunder faster. The barrel pressed against her lips. "Show me that you are a trusting and obedient wife who trusts her husband with her safety and wellbeing." The female's body jumped when he thrusted the cold metal against her sealed mouth. "Do it."

Y/n trembled as her hands hung uselessly at her sides. The girl didn't know much about weapons but she knew nothing was faster than a bullet. Although it was something about his mannerisms that indicated that he wouldn't actually pull it. The happy memories of their past resurfaced. He had never hurt her after all.

"Come on" he tried to pry open her mouth with the tip. "Don't make this any worse for yourself than you already have, sunshine." The darkness in his warning had her open her mouth and finally conform to his wishes by pressing a shaky kiss to the weapon.

Lloyd smiled as his dark blue eyes flickered to her luscious lips and then to her teary eyes. "Ah," her eyes widened when he took her slightly parted lips as an invitation to push the barrel of the gun inside her mouth. Y/n tried to back away, the man restricted her from doing so by grabbing her by the throat with his other hand. "You always did look the prettiest when you were crying for me" now his eyes sickeningly travelled down her neck and over the valley of her boobs that was visible from the loose t-shirt that she was wearing, then they went down her stomach and onto the shorts that were increasingly becoming damp from the middle, a hot liquid oozing past the fabric.

The male threw his head back and laughed out loud. "Oh, bunny. Look at you pissing yourself like a scared little mutt!" Her already red and distressed face now burnt even hotter as the stretch that the gun was causing produced a pang of pain in her jaw. "See? This is why you need your husband to protect you. Because you are so small and helpless on your own… right?" His fingers tightened around her throat as he slowly rocked the barrel in and out of her mouth. "Hm?" The girl slowly nodded in response as she realized there was no way out of this.

Lloyd sighed as he released her air duct but kept his fingers around her throat still, scanning her face and her body. "This is how long it would have taken us to sort it out, bunny. But you had to go ahead and make it hard for the both of us." Taking the weapon out of her mouth, he caressed one of her cheeks with the barrel. "You know I never did like punishing you" but the man in the video definitely would.

"P- Please… Please…" Y/n whispered pleadingly. "Please…"

"You ready to be a good girl for me again?" It was the love in his tone and sheer disregard for her horror stricken state that proved that this man, indeed, was the one from the video.

She had no choice but to nod. "Y- Yes…" Just don't hurt me.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes… Daddy" he snorted and shook his head before nodding towards the ring glinting in her finger.

"What's that make me?" She whimpered as a hiccup trembled its way out of her.

"... H- Husband…"

"Good girl…" Pulling her closer, he pressed his lips to hers in a rewarding manner -ever the narcissist- before continuing. "You are to call me that or hubby from now on, okay? The only exception will be Daddy. No using my name. Good little wives show respect." He dangled her body left and right by the throat. "Is that understood? Or does your tiny wife brain need me to explain it some more?"

"I- I understand" she clenched her jaw when he raised an eyebrow at her. "... H- Hubby…"

"Hmmm" Lloyd lazily eye fucked her again, unbothered by the fact that she had pissed herself a few minutes prior. He was used to much worse. "Now show me what's mine. Tsk, these clothes do nothing for you, bunny. Besides, you know you're only allowed to wear my shirts for pjs, what is this?" Moving her in front of him on the floor, he leaned back. "Tsk, tsk, bunny. I didn't think it was necessary since you used to behave so well but now I am positive that you need proper training." The man shook his head because even he knew that training with him was no easy thing. He had broken many little girls and boys while doing so.

Though none had kept him drawn for this long.

They eventually bored him out.

Lloyd had never wanted to put any of them in a pretty dress and fill their tummies with his babies to have them waddle around his kitchen.

Y/n was different.

"I don't have all day for this, sunshine." The girl hung her head low as she trembled under his piercing gaze, fingers grabbing the gem of the oversized shirt before she pulled it off. "Hmmm… my favorite fuck handles" the sight caused the male's cock to harden as he reached for her breasts and felt them both in turns, squeezing and spanking them before teasing her erecting nipples. "Fuck, sunshine. I missed you so much." Y/n blinked through her tears as she slid her wet shorts off her legs next, the reminder of the cause of the dampness making her face burn in embarrassment.

"Hmmm. Look at how pretty you look, baby. All submissive and mum for me." Pulling her closer by a pinch on one of her nipples, he started to stroke her cheek with the gun again. The terror in her eyes whenever he did so thrilled him. "This is your true place. Good and pretty for me on your knees. Your only purpose is to keep me happy and my balls empty." The degrading words burnt her face. A chill ran down her back upon realization. The filthy and humiliating words he used to utter during their passionate episodes weren't just nothings. He actually meant every one of them.

This was proof.

"You do that, you'll be the happiest and most protected little wife in the whole world." Lloyd pushed the barrel back in her mouth and one of his boot clad feet between her lungs. Y/n whimpered in response.

"Remember how much you used to love to suck my cock? Sometimes that was all you wanted to do for hours at a time" his foot teased her damp folds. "You remember, don't you?" The ruthless twist of a nipple had her nodding as her back arched in pain. "It's a pity that you can't have it anymore since you've become such a misbehaving little girl just because work took a bit longer than expected" in his world, whatever he said was the truth. "But since I am such a caring husband and I know how much you love sucking cock…" Her stomach twisted from how he was rubbing the top of his foot against her pussy as he thrusted the barrel in and out of her mouth.

She tried to mumble his name through the mouthful to plead but the man refused to acknowledge any of it.

"I have always loved you just the way you are but I really think you should learn to be more grateful, you know? Because look at me…" When Lloyd kept on the pretense that he couldn't hear her pleas and instead reached the back of her throat with the gun, Y/n hurriedly started to bob her up back and forth. "You betrayed me, you left me without giving me a chance to explain myself and then refused to let me in like you are big enough to make any decisions, yet I am treating you so well. Doesn't this call for appreciation and respect for your husband?" The female whimpered against the weapon, feeling heat form between her hips as they started to sway along his foot.

"God, Y/n," he chuckled deeply, pearly white teeth coming out on full display. "You're such a pathetic cockwhore. Sucking a gun that can go off any second while fucking yourself on my shoe like a horn bunny." The man reached for her hair now, fingers snaking through a handful of the pieces on the top of her head before he gave a humiliating jerk to it, eliciting a gasp out of the female who was confused, scared, shivering and aroused all at the same time. "This is where you belong, sunshine; at my mercy between my legs. Your only job is to worship me because your little brain is too small to do anything else… right?" Lloyd forced her to nod her head by the hold he had on her hair. "Right?" He drew his words out tauntingly before nodding himself. "Atta girl."

Sense was starting to desert a moaning and sobbing Y/n as she struggled to decide whether this was scaring her or exciting her. As the knots in her stomach tightened, her insides churned but pussy clenched at the thought that maybe it was both. The danger, the fear, the loss of power coupled with the stretch in her mouth and stimulation against her folds was clouding up her head.

It was Lloyd after all.

He wouldn't actually hurt her.

… Right?

Her conscience trembled its way out and away from her along with the moans she was letting out, the burn of the leather of his shoe against the skin of her pussy lips adding to the pleasure as she stared at him with teary eyes, hands now holding onto his legs for support as she felt a spinning building up behind her eyes.

It has been so long.

God. He smells like himself.

… So good.

When her eyebrows scrunched up and lips pouted in a similar way, a very turned on Lloyd opened his mouth to speak. "You wanna cum for your hubby like a good little cock whore wife, bunny?" Fuck. She looked so fragile and… scared. The tears just added to the appeal. "So needy, aren't you? Crying these pretty tears for him?" Y/n nodded before she could dwell over the rights and wrongs. "Do you deserve it?" He tugged her head back by the hair he still had a firm hold on. Her fingers tightened around his legs and nails dug into his pants as whined pleadingly, rocking herself against him faster and faster.

"You do?" Lloyd strictly questioned in disbelief when she dared to nod although he knew it was out of desperation. No worries. A good old fashioned wife spanking would fix it. "Cum, then" he could torment her about it later, right now he needed her as vulnerable as he possibly could. It was the perfect state to brand something into someone; the process of building them back up with modifications of his liking after breaking them down completely.

Y/n closed her mouth around the gun and sucked at it as she moaned loudly while her eyes fluttered close, cheeks hollowing to endure the intensity of the orgasm as her bodily needs had not been taken care of in a while. The girl's back arched as her thighs that he loved to bite and suck at shook from the violent surge of pleasure bolting through her whole body.

"Someone's forgotten all their manners, hm?" Y/n panted and shuddered as she looked at him through her lust drunken eyes, brain scattered.

"T- Thank you… h- hubby" it was only when Lloyd raised a warning eyebrow did she muster up the response he had taught her a while back. Her hips moved slower now.

"Good bunny." Finally unplugging her mouth and setting the weapon aside, the man cupped both sides of her very hot and red tear stained face as he pulled her closer and off his foot now. A snort escaped him when Y/n whined under her breath from the loss of the warmth between her legs.

"Now, you saw that video and thought that I just go around doing that to people?" He actually did go around doing just that. "And that I'd do it to you? My lovely little sunshine?" The younger whimpered as she softly pouted, feeling small and dumb. "Why? Have I ever hurt you? Did this very loaded gun go off throughout the whole episode even though it very easily could have?" His words sounded just and right. "If I wanted to, I could have very easily messed you up at any given time, bunny." Even his condescending tone didn't bother her fucked out and fear numbed mind that could only think about how nice he smelt. "But why would I? You're just my harmless little dumb cock warming bunny wife, aren't you?"

"I… I am sorry, h- hubby…" I should have given him a chance to explain. He has never hurt me. Hubby always says that whatever he does, he does it for us.

Lloyd sighed, an expression of benevolence on his handsome face as his thumbs caressed her cheeks. "It's alright, bunny. I should have known better. Silly little pea brain wives can't be left unattended for too long. They need constant monitoring and guidance, right?" The degrading words were spoken so lovingly that the girl given her state could not even be blamed. Small silver patches and strands in his mustache and hair that were otherwise barely noticeable glinted in the lights at this proximity.

"... Y- Yes, hubby…" Y/n's mind was blank as she leaned into his chest and closed her eyes, finally breathing in a huge whiff of his scent.

She felt shuffling around her but she didn't bother to open her eyes. Her body was taken care of and warm tucked into his; protected. How foolish she had been! Lloyd would never hurt her! He was her hubby!

Whether this resolution would remain branded in her mind or give way to better sense the next morning was a mystery for now.

The man took his jacket off and wrapped her nude form in it before one of his strong arms hooked under her ass and he swung her body over his shoulder, standing up.

"Huh?" Lloyd tucked the gun behind him in its holster. "W- What?"

"We are going home, baby" a harsh smack on Y/n's ass accompanied his words before he headed for the door. "Tsk, silly little bunny wife. Needs husband to teach her everything."

#lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen imagine #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x innocent!reader #lloyd hansen x fic #dark!lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x smut #chris evans imagine

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flordeamatista · 7 months

Text

THE MAGICIAN

pairing: mafia!lloyd hansen x reader x mafia!nick fowler

concept: Ecstasy and intense burn fuse together like mirrors falling from the sky.

word count: 2k

warnings: mirror sex + chase kink + double penetration (vaginal and anal), soft dubcon to be safe, mature themes,unprotected sex, nickname ──(Princess, Sunshine) (flashing gif ── glitching gif)

lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel & @lunarbuck

THE WITCHING HOUR ──── KINKTOBER'23

masterlist

A gentle breeze of cold, wet air won't make your fears disappear.

Rain continued to pour down, the icy drops searing your skin as you stepped into the abandoned carnival. Gunfire and lightning lit up the sky, a vivid warning that he lurked around every corner.

Your stomach twisted with terror as you pushed open the carnival gates. Your face was soaked in raindrops, and you felt fear rising from your bones. The cold air reminded you that you were alone and fighting for every moment.

With a charcoal sky in the background, the fairground rides spun and creaked, their colors competing with the smoke from gunshots echoing among them. The thrill rides became a roar of chaos as everyone screamed in response to each gunshot.

In the darkness above, fluffy clouds were tinted black, interrupted only by flickering flames that licked up like tongues of fire, illuminating the whole scene in an eerie carnival glow.

A thick, chaotic energy descended over the scene, overwhelming the sense of tension and stillness. It was clear that his anger had reached a boiling point.

It was all your fault.

His face was contorted in rage as he surveyed his domain, stomping around and smashing anything that dared cross his path.

During his shooting spree, your name was shouted.

Two paths lay before you - one led to safety through the House of Mirrors, and the other led to certain death.

The faint red light shining from ahead made your stomach churn with fear. Darkness filled the air with dread and suffering. While explosions echoed in the distance, you remained indecisive.

Tightly clenching your hands, you took a deep breath before reluctantly stepping forward.

Stepping through the entrance, you removed your jacket. Your senses were overwhelmed by his words running through your mind. Reflections gleamed off the walls as if you were trapped in a time warp. There was a shakiness in your breathing. A wall of mirrors reflected each other in an endless regression of images.

Suddenly, your nose was filled with the unmistakable aromas of a man before his rough hands snatched your waist and pulled you back towards his chest.

You fell to your knees. His rough hand covered your mouth while he pulled his gun from its holster at his waistband, keeping it cool against your neck. Moving your body left, you tried to squirm away from his gun. When his hands reached your shoulders, he squeezed them and pushed you back down.

“Shhh… Sunshine. What are you doing here?” The gun barrel pressed into your throat as he straddled you, crushing you beneath his full weight. Whistling escaped his lips, but when he took the gun away from your neck, only emptiness followed. His eyes were on your rear end as he groped away from your neck and down to give you a squeeze. “I'm here to help us." He pushed himself off you and offered you his hand, forcing you to look at him directly through his crystal blue eyes.

Your tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut. It was exhausting running from him, maybe this was all you had left.

However, you would meet his enemy, and you didn’t not know whether that would be a victory or a defeat.

"Us?” you spat out. It was clear to you who was holding you down, and you also knew that he didn’t play by the rules.

“Yes, Sunshine, because you have things I want from you. And you need me desperately."

Through your lashes, you saw his eyes scan over your body as he wound his gun from your lips to your breasts.

The voice of this man is familiar to you, one who is labeled as a narcissistic sociopath and who is incapable of empathy for anyone except himself. Your plans were at the center of his fucked up plan for you.

Glistening demonic blue eyes just gave you a hint at what he wanted.

“Leave me alone, Lloyd! You're no better than him," you shouted.

The darkening of his eyes and the calloused grip of his hands told you just how angry he was. Then he ran his fingers delicately along your blouse’s lacing until they rested on your breasts.

Pulling you close, he tied your arms behind your body. He held you tight in place as you gasped in shock and stepped back. Lloyd pulled his gun from his back pocket as he leaned forward to kiss you. His grip was firm as his lips pressed against yours, and you could feel his tenacious body bear down on you, making you shiver. In fear, you struggled to loosen his grip, but he only tightened it more.

"That's fine," he growled with a mocking smirk. "We can do it that way too."

Your wrists were bound behind your back, the rope digging into your skin. Lloyd had spun you around and pushed you up against the cold mirror glass. You could feel every muscle in his body as he pressed against yours. He made every inch of himself felt, from his thick cock to the smirk on his lips. It was an out-of-body experience, being touched all over by someone else's hands while they did it for their own pleasure.

Taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, Lloyd moved it towards your face and filled your nostrils with a pungent smell. Once you were feeling lightheaded from the dizzying scent, he whispered, "I've got you, Sunshine," into your ear before sweeping you up and carrying you into the depths of the house of mirrors.

The air was filled with gloomy lust.

You sat on a chair in nothing but your underwear. The walls of the room were lined with mirrors containing an image of yourself so you could see every angle of how you ended up here.

The man behind it all was Mafia King, Lloyd Hansen; he seemed to have total control over any situation at all times, even when he was losing.

Lloyd placed his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down.

“I know what you want," you said in a soft voice, "but I'm not going to give it to you no matter how hard you try."

Slowly, his hand maneuvered down the front of your underwear to gently touch your clit.

"You like this, don't you? I heard you had him under your spell, so let me have a taste, Sunshine."

You refused to break, spitting on him as he smiled unbothered by your defiance.

"My cock will surely break you, Sunshine. But the worst punishment will be sharing you with him since you decided to cross into neutral territory," he said sinisterly.

On cue, Nick Fowler appeared in the frame of the mirror, clapping as if watching a play. "Ah," Lloyd murmured, "he's here."

“Hello, Princess. Looks like you got yourself into an even bigger mess with two mafia men.”

Taking Lloyd's knife from his back pocket and untying the rope, Nick walked alongside the chair and forced you to stand up. He grabbed your throat firmly and locked his piercing blue gaze on you.

Slowly, Lloyd's hands rubbed the inside of your thighs while pushing them further apart. He weighed your response as he smirked at you.

The only thing you could do was whine and try to keep your eyes open.

A buzz of anticipation filled your body.

"Shh, Princess," whispered Nick. "Take a look in the mirror. See what he is doing to you."

The smirk on Lloyd’s face appeared as he placed his two fingers on either side of your swelling lips. You don’t tell him to stop.

Sensual and delicate to the touch.

Nick's fingertips gently massaged each of your breasts, savouring the softness and firmness. When he heard you moaning, he gently squeezed your nipples until they hardened between his forefinger and thumb.

Slowly, Lloyd inserted a finger inside you, followed by another, causing your hips to rock forward.

For them, finding the information they needed took only seconds. You, on the other hand, enjoyed them taking their sweet time devouring every part of your body.

"Fuck, you're soaking wet, and we've only just begun." Fear gripped you as your head was clouded in fog. You could feel Lloyd's rough hands against your neck. You could feel your pussy becoming wet just by the simple touch.

Your nose was filled with the scent of sweat and whiskey. Lloyd smoothed his other hand over your spine as if it were a stream of water flowing down it.

“Remember, Princess, we are on neutral territory and that means you have to deal with both of us.” Nick’s voice was firm but distant as it echoed off the mirrors.

Nick’s warm breath tickled your neck as he slowly eased himself inside you, inch by inch. His moans of pleasure filled the room as you were engulfed by his hard, thick cock. Every time Nick thrust into you, he took you to new levels of pleasure.

You felt Lloyd's chest pressing against your back as Nick moved faster and faster, increasing in intensity until you finally screamed out in pleasure.

“Let me fuck this ass. Maybe she’ll tell us with two dicks in her holes." Lloyd began blowing air on your back while he moaned about what he wanted to do with you as Nick thrust in and out. "Let's get you warmed up"

That's how this is gonna feel, baby, so strong that it'll make you alive.

“Open her up for me, Nick”

Nick's hands glided down your body, cupping either side of your ass. His fingers pried apart your cheeks. Gentle but assertive pressure let you know he was readying you for Lloyd.

Lloyd's eyes smiled into yours as his tip tested the waters. You felt a slight burn as he inched inside your tightness. “Kitten, oh, Kitten,” he murmured, coaxing you along.

Nick pulled away slightly and demanded that you look at him. He captured your gaze with his own, and the intensity in the double mirror reflection was almost too much to take in.

The sensation of being filled by both men triggered moans and gasps to erupt from deep within you.

“Look at you taking us in,” Lloyd said reassuringly as his hand moved back and forth on your spine. He delivered a sharp slap to your ass, sending shivers racing through your body.

His lips left a trail of heat down your neck, teasingly stroking the sensitive area that instantly made your body hum. One hand rubbed circles around your clit while the other teased and tugged at it. You sank further into their embrace as both men pressed deeper into you, and the sensations swirled through your body. Their groans and cries pushed against your body's walls until finally, they reached an explosive release.

You clenched around the two dangerous men, and they spilled their cum in you as they fought over pleasure and pain.

Ecstasy and intense burn fuse together like mirrors falling from the sky.

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krirebr · 7 months

Text

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house.

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted.

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined.

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted.

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you.

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black.

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say.

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left.

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from.

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there.

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again.

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked. He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said.

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right.

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times.

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.”

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?”

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!"

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season.

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table.

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place.

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.”

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

“New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you.

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh.

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought.

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?”

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand.

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant.

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house.

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down.

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?”

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror.

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you.

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you?

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys.

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?”

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath.

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

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#ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #dark fic #knives out #ransom drysdale #horror fiction #chris evans fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #kris wrote something #fanfic #we are vain & we are blind

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shadeysprings · 7 months

Text

So Good. So Bad.

—Stalker!Ex-Boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Summary — The Halloween party you and your friends attend turns upside down all because of your jealous ex.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, mass murd3r, k!lling spree, somewhat public sex, cuckolding of some sort, almost drugging, Lloyd being toxic and psychotic. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 7.2K

A/N — I know I said Sunday but my muse said no. Story #2 for my FREAKtober Fest and my second time exploring Lloyd as a character. The writing process was tedious yet exciting. The title and inspiration of this fic was taken from the song ILYSB.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Aside from having the same shift as your best friends, restocking is the only thing you like about your work. Although it’s physical, it’s mostly mindless tasks done repeatedly, and the black shirt you wear acts like a shield from annoying customers who pester the ones in blue.

Your shift starts like clockwork; time in, grab the products from the warehouse, and begin stocking the shelves until you have to clock out. Though today was a bit more taxing than you expected with the cable aisle once more in disarray and you being tasked to reorganize and set everything in its proper place. You don’t understand the need to put in so much effort into something that will just end up messy at the end of the day.

But you do it anyway.

Upon arriving at the aisle, you begin sorting out the boxes and dismantling the hooks from the shelves. You’re happy enough to be doing this alone—the quicker you work, the faster you’ll be able to relax and waste the time away. That is, until Kate stands beside you, seemingly tensed as she starts helping you.

“He’s here again. TV aisle.” You don’t need for her to say anything more to know who she’s referring to and it just makes you sigh as you grab a box of an HDMI cable and hang it on the hook. “Jensen’s trying to help him but he’s being pushy about talking to you. How does he always know when you’re here? Didn’t you already change shifts?” She asks.

How you wish you knew the answer to that. “I did.” You say in exasperation. “Did he say I was on break?”

“You know we can’t lie. Besides, we have no idea if he already saw you before he came in. He could have seen you while you were on your smoke break.” She expounds and you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Just—talk to him. Tell him to leave. If he tries anything, we’ll call the cops.”

“Yeah. Like they’ll do anything about it. Vince wouldn’t even allow that—bad publicity and all.” The sigh that once more leaves your lips is despondent. You don’t know what else you can do to make him leave you alone. “Fine. I’ll deal with him.” The box in your hand ends up being crumpled from annoyance.

“We’ll be keeping watch.” She says, a measly attempt to comfort you. But you take it anyway with a smile and push away from your cart to hopefully turn away the pesky client.

It’s been almost two years since you broke up with Lloyd. The sweet air that he once had turned bitter when you saw just how jealous of a person he was. You thought it was cute at first, comforting him after a fit and telling him that he was the only man in your life—until it wasn’t and he threatened your friend, John, even challenging him to a fight at the back of the club when he placed his arm on your shoulder as he introduced you to his girlfriend.

Since then, he changed and the relationship you thought was almost perfect, snowballed into endless fights and the revelation of the toxicity he kept hidden. You thought you could make him realize that there was truly nothing to worry about, that his jealousy was misplaced. But you were very wrong, especially after he demanded you quit your job and move in with him instead. You’d make a really good housewife, was what he said and you knew you had to draw the line.

It wasn’t the life you wanted. And it pained you to leave because you did love him but with the way he acted, you questioned if he truly felt the same for you for even the simplest of things, he failed to trust you. And ever since, he hasn’t stopped following you. Everywhere you went, at work or home, he was there, simply watching, observing and you’ve done all you can to push him away. But no matter how hard you try, he can’t take the word no.

The first thing you notice when you see him is the twitch of his mustache when he smirks. He looks pristine as ever with his yellow polo shirt and white slacks that match his black loafers—a complete mismatch to your black shirt, jeans and sneakers uniform. And it has you thinking, what the hell did he see in you?

“The new models just came in yesterday,” You hear Jensen tell him but it’s obvious that Lloyd is not listening, certain that he’s staring at you even with his blue eyes covered by sunglasses. “I can show them—”

“Ah, just the girl I was looking for.” He says, cutting off Jensen and stepping past him to head over to you.

“Sir, she’s one of our warehouse staff. I’d be happy to assist you in—”

“Beat it, nerd!” Lloyd snaps as he stops to face Jensen, rolling your eyes at his misplaced annoyance. “She’s the one I want to talk to.”

“It’s okay, Jen. I got this.” You tell your co-worker, gesturing for him to leave.

“You sure? I can stay if you need any he—”

“Are you fucking deaf?! She said she’s got it, loser!” Lloyd turns from where he stands and you’re suddenly alarmed to see him charge over at Jensen. “Beat it or I’ll make you.” He threatens and you immediately wedge yourself between both men when you see Jensen isn’t backing down.

You place your hands against Lloyd’s chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Lloyd, stop it! Not here—Christ!” Your voice raises an octave when you scold him, facing Jensen right after and unintentionally glaring at him. “Just go, Jake! I said I got this!” It surprises you that you sound quite like Lloyd but it doesn’t deter you from pushing Lloyd back further.

You hear Jensen speak but don’t understand him as you grab Lloyd by the hand and pull him over to the other aisle, heat rising up your neck when you notice several of the shoppers looking in your direction. There’s never any peace with Lloyd—everywhere he goes, chaos follows.

Once you’ve pulled him away from prying eyes, you startle when he stops walking and tugs on your hand, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he holds you close. He gives you a sickeningly sweet grin, effectively trapping your hand against his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, Lloyd? Why are you here?” You bite.

“I’m looking for a TV.” He says smoothly, “Besides, I missed my little Kitten and I know that kitty of yours misses me too.”

You want to roll your eyes at his crass comment. “You know I work in the damn warehouse. I know nothing about them.” You reason, grunting as you try to get away from his hold. “We have a sales specialist who can help you with that.”

“Oh, but I want you to show me the options.” The hair on his lip twitches when he smirks, “Or I can complain to your manager that his employees aren’t helpful to their customers.”

“Seriously? You’re going to act like a fucking Karen?”

“Would you like to see me try?” He challenges.

That’s the last thing you needed from him and you don’t question that he would stay true to his word and make sure his complaint reached top management. Letting out a sigh, you nod at his request and show your best customer service smile before saying, “How can I help you?”

Your shift finally ends and you can’t wait to go home to wash off the day. After Lloyd pestered you with all the TV selections you showed him, he left with nothing and you tried your best not to show your annoyance at him though he knows he’s riled you up—he always does.

Bidding your goodbyes to Kate and the rest as you leave the store with Jensen in tow. He offered a ride to the station—something he always does and one you couldn’t refuse after the long day. You just want to go home and curl up in your room and hope that Lloyd doesn’t show himself again after that awful stint.

“Tough day, huh?” Jensen asks as he brings the engine to life and drives off from the parking lot.

“Yeah. I’m just glad it’s over.” You respond, leaning back against your seat while you hug your backpack against your chest.

“Yeah.” He echoes, hearing his fingers tap against the wheel. “The line at the tech depot was pretty long too. Seems like every computer within town is falling apart.” He jokes, and you think it’s an attempt to lighten the mood. You still feel tense with the altercation he had with Lloyd—you just wish for once one of them would listen to you.

“Hey, sorry about earlier.” He says and you visibly cringe when he mentions it. “I know you could handle him but knowing that he’s bothering you, I couldn’t just step away from—”

“Look. Jensen.” You sigh as you turn to face him. “I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But no offense, it’s none of your business. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me each time that idiot shows up. The others stay away because of how reckless he can be and I just don’t want you to get caught in the line of fire. Just let me handle him.”

You know full well why Jensen couldn’t get past that. After admitting to you his feelings since he found out you were single, he’s been subtly dropping hints about asking you out. You’d probably have taken up the offer if you met him before Lloyd but the trauma your ex has imprinted on you just leaves you thinking that any man who would dare go near would be the same.

Silence fills the small space, along with a flicker of tension. You think Jensen would disapprove of your words, that he would insist on giving his unwarranted help. But all you hear is a sigh and you see the nod of his head.

“Okay.” He utters, the rubber covering the steering wheel squeaking when his hold on it tightens. “I won’t meddle any—”

“JENSEN!” You shout and grab onto the handle of your seat when a car suddenly turns and blocks your path, Jensen stepping hard onto the brakes.

“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rolls down his window but you, on the other hand, sit still when you see Conrad, one of Lloyd’s buddies, step out of the car and walk over to Jensen’s side. “What the hell is wrong with you, bro?!” Jensen growls as he unlocks his door, ready to step out.

But you’re too late to warn him—Conrad pulling open the door and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, trapping him against the side of his car. Lloyd then suddenly appears, with Chris in tow. He goes first to Jensen, the latter flinching when he raises his fist at him, threatening to lay a punch before leaning down and framing his arms over the edge of the window.

Your eyes dart to Jensen when he grunts against Conrad’s grip, glaring at Lloyd when he stares you down. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?!”

His eyes meet yours, darkness swirling around the blue and you can already tell that he’s angry. “What are you doing here, Kitten?” He says, a cocky grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick you up so you got into this loser’s car?” He tuts, chin nodding over to your side and your door suddenly opens, Chris, pulling you out aggressively.

You look around, hoping to call for help but you curse Jensen when you notice he went through the back roads. No one ever passes here, especially at this hour, and now the both of you are at the mercy of your ex who you see looming over your co-worker.

You gasp when Lloyd sends him a punch, trying to pull away from Chris’ grasp to help Jensen, but it’s no use. You’re rendered helpless as you watch him send another blow, making the other bowl over to which Conrad pushes him further to the ground.

“Stay away from my girl, asshole!” Lloyd threatens before spitting at the other man, your eyes grow wide when Lloyd takes you from Chris and drags you to his car.

You hear the sound of tires being slashed and several glass breaking along with Jensen’s pained grunts. You knew Lloyd could be reckless but you’ve never seen him this way before. He opens the passenger door and pushes you in, slamming the door harshly before getting inside himself. He doesn’t wait for his companions before driving off, your hand grabbing the side of the door with the speed he’s going.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shout. “Let me out of here!”

“You keep testing me, Kitten. Running off with other men like that.” He growls and you scream when he takes a sharp left, cars honking left and right at how careless he’s driving.

“Are you that daft?! We’re over, Lloyd! We’ve been for years!” You shout amidst the panic that rolls through your veins, eventually getting the courage to hit him on the shoulder when he gets on the main road.

But you soon realize your mistake when he stops at an alley and his hand immediately wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. You grab on his wrist when he squeezes tight, your eyes wide as you fear that he would choke you, kill you on the spot.

“Lloyd—” you gasp, slapping on his hand as tears fall from your eyes. “Y—you’re hurting me.”

“I will only say this once, Kitten, so you better listen.” His hot breath spreads across your cheek when he pulls you closer, the tick on his jaw setting you on edge. “You’re mine and no one, not even you, can change that fact. Got it?”

All you can do is nod, to agree with every word he says if it means you get to keep your life.

“Good.” He huffs, the anger in him somewhat seeping away, loosening his hold around your neck. “Good girl.” The praise that used to send shivers of desire within you now has your stomach twisting in disgust. “And if I see that weirdo or any other man going near you again, you know what will happen.”

You nod once more and gasp when he completely releases you, leaning against your seat as you try to regulate your breathing.

He drives once more and you’re thankful he’s slower this time, doing your best to stay calm as you look out the window. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, although you already have an inkling of his answer when you recognize the area you’re in and the direction he’s driving to. You haven’t driven in and out of these roads for almost two years. After you and Lloyd broke up.

The smirk he gives you is enough of an answer.

“Are we going to pre-game before the party?” Bucky asks as he plops down onto the couch in the employee lounge, shaking a tumbler of his protein shake in his hand. “Last year’s booze ran out so fast, I went home seeing straight. I don’t want to be sober on Halloween night.”

“You never want to be sober, Barnes,” Kate comments as she rolls her eyes, yet her interest seems to already be piqued. “But he’s right. Are we going to drink before the party or should we just hit the club after? I have a friend who can get us in at this club for free.”

“That could work but I’d rather enjoy the night drunk then get wasted at the club.” Bucky responds, taking a sip of his drink. “We could just meet up at someone’s place and pre-game there, then we can all go to the party together. Would save us gas too if we just take one car.”

“Who even lives near the venue?”

You tune yourself out from their conversation and stab your fork into your lunch as the Halloween party is the last of your concerns. Besides, you don’t think Lloyd would be happy with you attending and you wouldn’t dare give him the opportunity to ruin the event for you and your friends or give him any reason to be mad again.

Your friends exchange ideas, listing down people’s names of who they’ll be inviting for their plan of drinks and whose place they’ll be crashing when the door of the lounge opens and you freeze in your seat when Bucky calls out Jensen’s name.

“Hey buddy! You live downtown, right?” Bucky asks, patting the space beside him to which Jensen accepts. “We were thinking that—the fuck happened to your face?”

Your grip on your fork tightens when you chance a peek at both men, feeling your stomach drop when you see the bruise staining Jensen’s cheek.

“Oh that?” Jensen chuckles, his fingers running against the side of his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I slammed against my door frame.” You know he’s lying, though you’re somewhat thankful he didn’t expose what Lloyd and his friends did. Still, you feel the guilt nipping at the back of your neck.

“You’re such a klutz, Jake.” Kate says with a laugh.

Jensen makes a face in her direction and you look away when his eyes meet yours. “Why were you guys asking if I lived downtown?” He suddenly asks, shifting the topic.

Bucky takes the lead again. “We were thinking of doing drinks before heading to the party. And since you live closer to the venue, maybe we could just meet at your place?”

“Depends. Do I have to provide the booze?”

“We can bring some and you prepare some.” Kate responds. “Sounds good?”

Jensen hums audibly as he thinks of his decision. You feel the tension circling around you as you sense his eyes on you while he speaks. You don’t dare to look up, keeping your focus trained on the lifeless pasta in your lunch container.

“I’m in. Though who’s coming? My apartment isn’t that big so I can’t really hold a huge crowd.” He finally says.

“I’m there.” Bucky says, mouth full of his protein shake. “Tell me what you guys want and I’ll bring it.”

“Me too. Though I’m bringing my boyfriend along—that cool with you guys?” No one seems to object and you look up to face your best friend when she nudges you. “You’re coming too, right? Amber’s dragging Nick along and we won’t be complete without you. I even planned this super cool costume for us.”

You feel your body shake at her question. The pressure of going to the event with your best friends growing in your chest, colliding with the added stress of meeting at Jensen’s place and the fear of Lloyd finding out about the plan.

“I don’t know.” You say with a frown, closing up your container as your appetite has already turned sour from the anxiety crawling up your spine. “You know I don’t do well at parties. I’ll just stink up the mood.”

“Aww come on. Please?” She begs with those puppy eyes she always uses to convince you. “You’ll be with us and if it gets too much, we’ll leave. And if you’re worried about that psycho ex of yours showing up, I can just show Andy in his direction and he’ll show him a thing or two.” You want to latch onto the assurance she gives you but she doesn’t know Lloyd like you do.

Still, you could probably think of a way to convince him—he’s never been apprehensive of you spending time with your friends. Except it’s not only them who would be with you; Bucky and Jensen would be there as well, and you’ve already witnessed what he’s done to the latter, the evidence staring you in the face.

And that would mean you would have to lie. Though is it really lying if you’re just omitting out the information he doesn’t want to hear?

But the plan didn’t go as expected.

Instead of heading over to the company party after drinks at Jensen’s apartment, like what was discussed, you find yourself nursing a red cup full of shitty alcohol in a dimly lit house while surrounded by your friend group and people you only assume to be Bucky’s college frat buddies.

You tug on the skirt of your black dress that’s a little too short for your liking, the cat headband already irritating you with how long you’ve been wearing it. You don’t know why you’ve agreed to Kate’s idea for the three of you to imitate the costume from that movie—you’re just glad she didn’t push you to wear a bodysuit and that Amber was happy to trade with the mouse theme you were originally assigned to do.

Speaking of your best friends, you walk around the living room as you try to look for them, no longer wanting to be alone amidst the foreign crowd. But you frown when you see Kate at the corner of the room, her boyfriend’s hand planted firmly on her ass while they make out. Amber, on the other hand, was just on the other side, with Nick barricading her against the wall like some prison guard. Though with the smile you see on her face, she doesn’t seem to mind being isolated by him.

Your eyes then dart towards the front door when the cheers of men grow louder than the music blasting in the house. Three people walk in, each one wearing a mask over some effortless casual clothes underneath. But the one wearing the iconic ghostface catches your attention, noticing him looking your way with the other two standing behind him following suit. There’s a somewhat eerie familiarity to their masked gaze that makes you look away and leave from where you stand.

“Not really what you’re expecting, huh?” You startle when someone says too close against your ear, making you look up and chuckle when you see Jensen smiling at you, an opened beer bottle in his hand.

“It feels like I’m back in college attending a frat party.” You comment, making the both of you laugh and tapping your cup against his bottle when he raises it to you.

“You went to a lot of parties in college?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Wasn’t really a party type.”

“Same. But I had no choice with my roommate dragging me to every party.”

You have no idea why Jensen is speaking to you—after what he endured with Lloyd and his buddies, you’d think he’d steer clear of you, probably even fear you thinking that history would repeat itself. But deep down, you’re happy to be in his company, choosing it over being alone in a place you don’t even know half the people in.

The both of you chat for a while, finding a less crowded spot in the kitchen and helping yourselves with the food and the drinks that are out and free for the taking. You still feel bad when the bruise on his cheek remains prominent, though with his purple button up and baggy gray slacks, you think it blends well with his cosplay of Bruce Banner when you asked him who he was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jen.” You tell him with a frown, leaning against the edge of the counter as you look down at your drink. “I didn’t think Lloyd would actually hurt anyone.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a bruise.” He assures, giving your arm a pat.

“What about your car? Didn’t they trash it?”

“They did. But good thing I have insurance.”

It surprises you how positive the air around him still is despite the misfortune he’s met because of you. You almost envy his happiness, and the happiness that your friends have and you find it almost unfair that Lloyd wasn’t like Andy and Nick, doting and loving towards their girls, when both those men are his friends. You wish he’d learn a thing or two from them about handling relationships the proper way.

Sadness then swirls around you as you contemplate on what your life has become; always scared and cautious, that Lloyd would hurt another because of his jealousy, because of his unspoken obsession to completely possess you.

Your train of thought stops when you feel your cup being taken from your grasp, Jensen replacing it with a fresh one, fizz floating to the top of the amber liquid. “Jack and Coke.” He says. “Your drink looked a little stale.”

But before you could even take a sip, you hear spine tingling screams coming from the living room. You think it’s some scary prank someone has pulled on another, you and Jensen looking at each other and pushing away from your perch to investigate the commotion. But in just a flash of a second, the whole house is in chaos, people running, scrambling for their lives while the three masked men you saw earlier run amok, shooting and stabbing the party goers one by one and leaving them bloody and dead on the ground.

No sound escapes your lips as you’re gripped by fear upon witnessing the bloodbath, your body refusing to move even when your brain tells it to. But the hand that grabs onto your arm has you shouting in shock, only to be muffled by another and your eyes wide with horror thinking that they’ve got you. But to your relief, it’s only Jensen and he places a finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet before pulling you amongst the havoc for a way out.

You try the backdoor first but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t budge open no matter how hard he yanks it. He tries the window above the kitchen sink as well but just like the door, it’s screwed shut. He pulls on you once more, leading you down the hall this time, the rave music playing loudly in your ears pumping the adrenaline in your veins while the sound of the screams die out one by one.

He makes it to the end of the hall, the staircase free from the killers but with bodies lying lifeless on the steps—a woman with her throat cut wide open and a man with a bullet right between his eyes. He looks back at you, telling you to be quiet once more as he gestures that you both will be heading up. But before he could even set foot on the first step, one of the masked men appears and kicks him forward, making him topple over the corpses.

A scream is then wretched from your throat when you’re suddenly pulled back, the stranger trapping you against him while he positions his knife just under your chin, feeling the sharp edge of the blade kiss your skin. The man from the stairs kicks Jensen in the stomach then again, your co-worker writhing in pain as another joins his attacker, this time with a metal bar which he slams against his chest.

“Hello, nerd! Long time no see.” The one who kicked him greets, the timbre of his voice making your heart pound against your chest. No! “Whatcha doin’ with my girl, huh?” The stranger asks before pulling off his mask and you freeze when you see Lloyd’s face. He then turns to you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips and sending you a wink before he asks, “Whatcha doin’ here, Kitten? Thought you were at a company party?” The sly twist in his voice has you on edge.

The smirk on his face then fades, turning into a scowl when he nods at the man who’s got you trapped against him. You’re then released from his hold but not for long as Lloyd simply takes his place, grabbing you by your arm, wincing from his tight grip and dragging you into the living room where you see countless bodies lying lifeless on the ground and the walls of the house painted crimson.

He shoves you against the couch where you fall against something cold and sticky, only to realize too late, crying out to see that it’s Bucky you landed on; his blood staining your dress and your hands. But you’re then pushed away from him, falling back on the cushions as Lloyd kicks his body off the surface to take the space he once occupied.

You feel like you’re about to convulse as you cry when Lloyd wraps an arm around you. You try to push away from him, not wanting to be near him but he shakes you like a rag doll, making you stop before gesturing over to someone you cannot see as your eyes are blurry from your tears and remain locked on your dead friend’s feet.

“Gentlemen, thank you for all your help.” Lloyd says when the music finally dies and you look up, surprised to see Andy and Nick standing unscathed with only splatters of blood staining their costumes. But what has you more jarred is seeing Kate and Amber bound and gagged, sitting against the floor, they’re eyes wide in fear as they squirm to be free from their restraints.

You’re suddenly off your seat and on your feet, determined to get to them, to help set them free and run away from this horrid place. But Lloyd is quick to yank you back, grunting when you fall onto his lap and his strong arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.

“Relax, Kitten. They’re safe.” Lloyd assures, his gloved finger grazing against your cheek. “Just had to go through some extra measures to keep them out of the way.”

“We did our part, Hansen.” Andy says, pulling Kate from the ground who forcefully tries to pull away from his grip while Nick does the same with Amber, who in turn quietly follows while tears keep running down her face. “Just don’t forget the deal.”

“Yeah yeah. Just make sure your bitches know what to say if they’re questioned.” Lloyd responds with disinterest. “Meet me by the end of this week for your payment.”

It’s all the words the men exchange before dragging away your friends, their wide and fearful eyes being the last you see before the door closes behind them.

The sound of wood being dragged across the tiled floor then makes you look forward, seeing Chris and Conrad, now with their masks off, placing a chair in front of you and Lloyd while the latter drags Jensen’s beaten body and forces him to take a seat. Both men then go to work, effectively binding their captive’s wrists behind his back with tape and his ankles to the legs of the chair.

The sight of his damaged state breaks your heart as you helplessly feel guilty upon thinking that everything that has happened to him is all your fault. You never should have come here in the first place as soon as you found out about the change of plans. You should have just gone home or better yet, you should have just stayed at home where you know Lloyd would be.

Yet the universe could be so cruel.

“Look what we found on him.” Chris says in a serious tone before pulling out a small ziplock bag from Jensen’s shirt pocket and tossing it over your lap. You glance down at the clear packaging, seeing several small white tablets enclosed in it. What?

“Lover boy here was so desperate to get laid he brought roofies with him.” Conrad adds with a laugh, pushing on the back of Jensen’s head hard that his body jolts forward.

The bag is then taken from your lap, Lloyd holding it up close to his face as he inspects the white circles. You yelp when you’re suddenly shoved off his lap, falling over to the floor while Lloyd steps over to Jensen and grabs him by his hair, pulling his head back while he holds the baggie in front of him, breathing heavily like some wild animal through gritted teeth.

“You were gonna drug my girl, weren’t you?!” Lloyd spits out his words and on Jensen’s face, tossing the tablets in Conrad’s direction, your throat eliciting a gasp when he holds a knife to his neck this time. “Did you take any drink from him?!” He asks, but it takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking to you. He turns in your direction, eyes dark with anger. “Any fizzy shit this asshole gave you?!”

You don’t understand what he’s asking, why the sudden interrogation—then it hits you. In the kitchen while you were busy with your thoughts, Jensen took your stale drink, as he claimed, and replaced it with another. No—it can’t be. He said it had coke in it and sodas make a fizz.

“I won’t ask again, Kitten.” Lloyd pushes and you nod out of fear, knowing that he would find out that you’re lying to him if you said otherwise.

The look on Lloyd’s face shifts into something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand. Like something sinister has possessed him with the way his lips curl in a playful manner.

A groan leaves Jensen’s lips when Lloyd releases him and you push yourself back against the couch when he goes for you next.

“Lloyd, please—!” you beg as he tucks the knife in his pocket, yanking you from the ground and shoving you forward, planting you firmly in front of Jensen before forcing you to bend over. “Let’s just go home—you already beat him!” You cry, pushing against Jensen’s thighs when Lloyd doesn’t budge and keeps dipping you further.

You feel like you’re going to gag when the metallic stench fills your nose especially with how close you are to your bleeding co-worker and you attempt once more to push away from him, no longer wanting the both of you to suffer. But the world suddenly feels like it’s turning upside down when you feel Lloyd pushing up the skirt of your dress, a grunt leaving his chest when he roughly rips your panties off your thighs.

“Now, don’t be like that, Kitten.” He says in a syrupy tone. “Don’t you want to at least show him his sick fantasy of fucking you?” The tell tale sound of his zipper being undone fills your ears and you’re shocked frozen, scared to the wits end that Lloyd would take you here amongst the dead and in front of your friend who he’s beaten to a pulp.

You look away from Jensen when you feel Lloyd’s cock brush against your ass, his tip teasing your pussy lips. You then shout when Lloyd grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at your friend who has one eye swollen shut, while the other is stained with blood and brimming with unshed tears.

In one swift move, Lloyd enters you, gasping for air at his sudden intrusion. Pain blooms at the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t allow your walls to adjust and begins fucking you at a brutal pace, your nails digging into Jensen’s thighs as you try to endure your abuser’s torment.

Your body jolts against the chair, following Lloyd’s callous thrusts. You’re then washed in humiliation when you hear Chris and Conrad snickering at your sides, seeing them watch you with perverse eyes, sickened to the core as the thought that they enjoy what they are witnessing comes to your mind.

Both men then hold Jensen in place when he starts squirming in his seat that he almost topples over. Lloyd then abruptly pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest but only to grab on the straps of your dress and harshly pull them down from your shoulders, having your breasts spill into the open.

“She’s got perfect tits, doesn’t she, lover boy?” Lloyd taunts as he keeps up the pace of his hips, grabbing your breasts, kneading, squeezing, and pushing them together. “Why don’t you feel how soft they are?” And it’s as if things couldn’t get any worse, Lloyd moves you forward along with him, tipping forward when your knees hit the edge of the seat. His hands grab onto the back of the chair and you wail in horror when he forces your breasts to press against Jensen’s face, the sticky blood smearing all over your skin.

Lloyd laughs and so do his friends and all you feel is shame and disgust at what he’s doing to you—that the man you once loved would hurt you in the sickest way possible.

A gasp is once more wretched from your throat when Lloyd slams hard against your cunt, feeling his thick cock slide even deeper when your walls grow wet, the toe curling sensation from his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours trying to take over. You feel like a woman possessed as you grit your teeth, pushing hard against the unwanted pleasure that slowly begins to crawl up your skin and seep into your bones, not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction that, despite such circumstances, he still manages to make you feel such a way.

Yet your attempts are deemed fruitless when you whimper and eventually turn into a moaning mess, your body responding to each of Lloyd’s touch; your pussy walls clenching around his throbbing cock with each thrust he makes and how your skin shivers, singing each note in sheer perfection as you climb higher and higher to your peak.

“You see that, nerd? You see how she turns into a fucking slut when you fuck her good?” He goads between heavy breaths, adjusting the position of his legs to have you lean more against his victim, his hands grabbing onto your tits once again only to rub it further against Jensen’s face, feeling the bristles of his goatee rub roughly against your skin.

“Too bad you’ll never get to have this.”

Lloyd's hips begin moving more erratically, the sound of your skins slapping with one another filling the stolid air. You swallow thickly, refusing for any more moans to leave your lips as you’re slowly enveloped in ecstasy, Lloyd’s cock pulsing deep in your pussy.

A blinding white light suddenly fills your vision and you shake uncontrollably as you come hard around Lloyd’s shaft. Tears once again spring from your eyes and you’re confused about what causes it. Is it embarrassment from feeling the pleasure? Pain from Lloyd’s roughness? Or is it sadness of how the evening of fun turned into a nightmare? You can’t think as you’re dissolved into nothing, your body floating in orgasmic bliss.

Lloyd follows soon, growling low and animalistic as he keeps his cock buried balls deep, painting your pussy walls with streaks of white as he spills his seed, filling you to the brim.

You think that it’s finally over, that Lloyd’s objective has finally been met. But a life draining gasp then fills your ears—not from you or from Lloyd but from Jensen. And it’s only then that you realize what has happened when you see Lloyd’s hand gripped on the hilt of the knife with the blade stuck deep into Jensen’s chest.

“No!” You cry out as Lloyd stabs him repeatedly, grunts of passionate anger escaping him each time he sinks the blade into the body before you.

Tears of despair and horror are what fall from your eyes, closing them as you hope that this is all a bad dream. You ball your hands into fists as you try your hardest to close in on yourself, to leave this place of torment that Lloyd has condemned you into.

Yet, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t. With the sound of metal hitting bone, along with the devious laugh of the men around you and the way your body shakes from Lloyd’s continuous blow, you’re repeatedly pulled back into the present, unwillingly witnessing the murder of your friend.

You suddenly feel your body shake, your chest tightening that you think the room is losing air and the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger that it makes bile ride up your throat. With Lloyd’s final stab, he pulls you away with him, leaving the knife buried in Jensen’s throat. The world around you suddenly turns, your vision spinning uncontrollably that before you could even let out a scream, everything suddenly goes dark.

You sit inside the employee lounge along with the others in somber idleness. The police came over just before the store opened and ordered that it remained closed for the rest of the day to make way for an investigation. Vince wasn’t happy with the commands of the law enforcers but there’s nothing he could do—there was nothing anybody could do.

A massacre, one of the officers said. A mass murder, another voices, declaring that some of the victims were employees of the store. You already knew who it was—Bucky and Jensen.

One by one, the employees were interrogated, some taking minutes while others taking hours. You glance at Kate who sits across from you on the lunch table, noting the small bruise on the side of her neck. You try not to imagine what Andy told her or did to her that night. You don’t even dare to ask as you refuse to relive the grim evening, nor want to feed her any memory of it.

You sit up once your name is called and you feel the eyes of your other co-workers land on you. The detective, stout and looking somewhat annoyed to be doing such a thing, looks your way and asks your name once more to confirm your identity.

He beckons you to follow him and you do, but not before looking down at your best friend when she grabs your hand, seeing the fear etched in her eyes. You give her a small smile and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting her go and following the detective into the other room.

You do as you’re told when he tells you to sit, staring down at the round table that sits between the both of you as you wait for his first question.

“I’m Detective Bodecker.” He starts, his belly protruding as he leans back against his seat. “And I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your co-workers. Is that okay?”

You nod.

“Do you need some water? Anything to make you comfortable?”

You shake your head.

“Very well. Let’s begin.” He hums and grabs his notebook from the desk, flipping a page. “Where were you on the night of October 31st?”

Your mind suddenly begins reliving the night in question. Jensen’s bloody face and Lloyd’s devious smile playing in your head. You blink those thoughts away, not wanting to give out any information on your face.

Taking a breath, you begin your tale.

“I was at a party—”

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x f!reader #so good so bad #the gray man #chris evans characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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boxofbonesfic · 10 months

Text

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,761

A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—

But he has.

Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse.

“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf.

“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.

“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine.

He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—

Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?

He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already mastered. Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin.

“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit.

“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat.

“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—

You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean.

“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins.

“Feels good not to have to pretend.”

“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them.

“Let me—”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”

The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand. You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party.

The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand.

“Sweetheart?”

You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision.

“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”

“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify.

Ransom stares at you confusedly.

“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from.

“Tell me something about the fountain.”

“The what?”

“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”

“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.”

This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing.

“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”

Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat.

Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.

Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly.

“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open.

“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine.

“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head.

“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace.

“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”

You nod wordlessly.

Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water.

You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin.

“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder.

“W-what?”

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see.

“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink.

“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”

“I think before New Years, last year.”

“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief.

You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening.

Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild.

“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.

“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”

“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you.

“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things.

“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.”

“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”

“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”

“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door.

It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore

“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.”

You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse.

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”

“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment.

“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”

You slap him.

The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth.

“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight.

This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—

You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek.

“Just let me go, Ransom—”

“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.”

“You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears.

“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly.

“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern.

“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”

“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers.

“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”

Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair.

“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—”

“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater.

Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

to be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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sunshinebuckybarnes · 7 months

Note

time to go home

Pairing: Mob!Andy Barber x female!reader

Summary: You thought you'd slipped out of his grasp but you should have known better than to underestimate Andy Barber.

Warnings: petnames (honey), dark!Andy, threats of violence, controlling behaviour. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: It's rare I go a bit dark but this was very fun to write and I am not above writing more (word count: 659)

"You look beautiful, honey."

Your blood runs cold at the sound of his voice. The deep baritone causes goosebumps to rise across your skin and a shiver to run down your spine.

You had been so careful. You changed your name. You moved state. You waited. You waited years before letting yourself live again. Before letting yourself believe you were safe, that he would never find you.

You'd been wrong.

His name is nothing but a whisper on your lips as you urge yourself not to cry.

You hear the door shut softly the lock clicking into place as your heart sinks.

"I told you I'd find you."

His voice is closer now and you know better than to turn around. You can feel your muscles tensing with every painful second that passes as you wait for him to come closer to you.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. In thirty minutes you were supposed to be walking down the aisle to start the rest of your life with the man you loved.

"You don't love him, honey. Not like you love me."

You spin around on instinct, forgetting exactly who you are dealing with as you prepare to give him a piece of your mind.

"How dare-"

He cuts you off with a laugh and a tight grip on your jaw.

"How dare I?" he laughs, but there's no humour there. Pulling you closer until you're against his chest, wincing as his fingers dig into your cheeks. "How dare you, honey. I've got to say you didn't make it easy. How long has it been exactly?"

You don't answer. Putting all your energy into keeping your tears at bay as you look into the cold eyes of the man you once loved, the man you now feared.

If you had known what Andy was, you would have never let yourself fall into his trap. But, hindsight was a wonderful thing.

Andy was charming, doting, protective and handsome. He was everything a girl dreamed of. He treated you like a queen, you wanted for nothing.

But there were two sides to every coin.

For as charming as Andy was he was just as manipulative. For as doting, he could be just as cold and indifferent. For as protective, he was even more possessive.

You knew Andy was a powerful man from the moment you met him but you had no idea just how much power and influence he possessed.

He made you dependent on him, had you let go from your job, and cut off from your family and friends. You became isolated. He was your only source of comfort and he never let you forget it.

"That's not what love is, Andy," you whisper, no longer able to keep your tears at bay.

The dark look in his eye should scare you but you've seen it enough times. Accustomed to what it means and you know you're not getting out of this this time.

"Just please don't hurt him," you whimper. Thinking about your fiance waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

Andy shushes you gently, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, "Oh honey, you're really not in a position to be making demands."

Your eyes widen as a sob tears out of your throat.

Sighing, Andy rolls his eyes at your tears, clearly bored by your attachment to a man who isn't him.

"Fine, I'll let him live," Andy concedes, one hand slipping down to wrap around your throat.

You choke on a sob as his hand tightens enough to convey his next warning.

"But if you ever try and leave me again, I will put a bullet between the eyes of everyone you care about. Do you understand?"

You nod weakly, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Good girl," he purrs, placing a soft kiss against your lips and sealing your fate, "let's go home."

This was fun!! I wouldn't mind writing more if any one has any thoughts... thank you for reading, as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ✨💜

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fic #dark andy barber #chris evans fic

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riedswifts · 2 years

Text

AFTER HOURS

NOMAD!STEVE X READER

Warnings : smut, barley plot, oral (f receiving), praise, slight size kink, desk sex, slight breeding, fingering, steve has a bit of a mouth, fluff (at the end ), some dumbification.

Summary : you and steve seem to have a mix of tensions and the top one being hate, but a night alone in the tower shows what the real problem is.

Word count: 2.8k

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Everyone had left out with their significant others, or friends or family. Nat had begged you to come but you kindly declined. Being on a long-standing mission, and nearly being on the brink of death literally- being an assassin and hanging off a building by a falling building is tiring. You also weren’t expecting some things and were worn out to the max.

You were under the impression everyone had left. Except Jarvis of course but that was a computer system. So you had no reason to wear full clothes and being a trained assassin leaves you in shape so you thought you’d be fine. Leaving your personal huge room in nothing but a black widow t-shirt and a pair of panties, no bra either, you just explored the tower in its glory during the night hours.

It was stunning to say the least and not to brag but you had one of the best views. Tony made sure your room had a floor to ceiling window with a space in it to go on the balcony that overlooked the city’s lights. It was payment in a way, you had nearly died saving his life quite a few times and even if he didn’t admit it you were his favorite on the team.

You had decided that you would go out on the very ledge thor and loki fought on. You had quickly snagged a bottle of any alcohol you could snag without stopping and made your way outside. You sat near the ledge but not fully on it. Your ankles hanging off the edge as you sat with your legs stretched out.

You held up the bottle and glanced at it ‘Daviun vodka’ you didn’t care for brands but this one seemed ok and the flavor was watermelon. So you popped off the top and set it beside you as you rested back on your elbows taking a swig and staring at the bottle after before shrugging with a satisfied hum.

You just relaxed not registering the sound of someone getting closer. It was a rare moment when you let your guard down but after all you had asked JARVIS prior to this if any one was here and the damn shit said no. Someone stood behind you and you slightly stiffened.

Without moving you acted clueless before in seconds you stood up and stunned the person as you broke the handle off the vodka and managed to flip them over onto their back holding the jagged edge to their throat. Bored blue eyes stared back at you with the upmost annoyed face.

You scoffed standing up completely forgetting your attire. You didn’t bother sticking your hand out to help him up, you just grabbed the bottle and started walking inside. You heard him scoff in disbelief but you didn’t care, he was a grade A dick after all- only to you- that was.

“Why are you here? Have no friends to go out with?” He asked trailing you inside. You rolled your eyes making a dramatic annoyance sound. “Do you?“ You shot back, it was a fifth grade response but you didn’t care in the slightest.

“Fifth grade response, Cute.” He said sarcastically and you with to cut his beard off and his throat but tony and natasha agreed no killing the super solider. stupid rules.

“What do you want steve?” You asked putting the bottle back, you started walking and made an abrupt turn into the small room. The one where everyone had sat and watched as they replayed a video of wanda accidentally destroying a building and killing people. It was empty, lights off, chairs pushed in.

You always came to watch TV in here because the projected screen was cooler to you. After all you didn’t have electronics until you escaped the red room with natasha. Steve still followed you in there but you ignored him as you picked up the projector remote.

Sitting on the table you slid back leaving from your knees down hanging off the table as he grumbled that you were ignoring him. “Do you have anything better to do than I don’t know..annoy me?” You asked rolling your eyes.

His eyes seemed to finally take in your appearance and you had neglected the fact that your nipples would poke through the thin t-shirt due to the coldness. His eyes darkened for a moment before he sharply directed his state to the screen. “Just genuinely curious as to what a looser like you decided to do when they’re alone.”

Your head snapped in his direction. “Oh fuck off steve.” You scoffed. Deciding to press play on the movie but before you could the remote was snatched out of your hand and you glared at him as he tossed it aside.

He stood right in front of you and you scooted backwards. Your eyes narrow in on him as he licked his lips running a hand over his beard. “What’s your fucking problem?” You asked extremely annoyed your night was ruined by the captain himself.

Though there was the faint throb between your legs that made you wanna stab your eyes out, how dare your own body betray you like that.

After the question left your mouth his eyes snapped back up to yours. His hair was slightly slicked back but looked like he had laid down in it because a few pieces had fell out. He paused staring at you making you slightly shiver. He saw the way your thighs slightly shifted to squeeze, the way your nipples poked through the thing t-shirt. He could faintly see the lace of your panties, he stared at you for a long moment.

Suddenly he grabbed your Ankle pulling you forward making you slid until you were right in front of him a mere inch from his nose as his hands rested on either side of you. “You see, my problem is, i can’t decide if i hate your guts or maybe it’s the frustration of not being able to rearrange them.”

Your eyebrows raised as your breathing sped up a bit. His eyes swapped between your eyes and lips, then they locked on your eyes maintaining eye contact as you felt the coldness of his avengers ring against your knee.

“Well then, maybe that’s a theory we need to test out.” You said as his hand slid up more leaving a trail of goosebumps before gripping your leg tightly. He smirked at how reactive you were to his touch.

He hummed before leaving you curious as he removed his hands. Suddenly they where on the curves on your ass pushing you flush against him, as if it was natural your legs spread allowing the bulge in his pants to press right against your now dampened panties.

Your back arched as you looked up at him and his lips crashed into yours, it wasn’t passionate, and soft- no. It was bruising, full of dominance and emotion. Obviously the fight for domination still stood and as an assassin you weren’t gonna give up.

However when his hands gripped your hips and rolled your hips against his you let out an involuntary humiliating moan. That allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and when he squeezed your ass he let you know, he had won.

You pulled away from him to breathe as you guys started at each other panting. His forehead came to rest against yours before laying you on the empty mahogany desk. He kissed you again bruising like as your hands started to wonder you tugged at his shirt and without disconnecting his lips from yours he took it off.

His hands slid up under your shirt cupping your breast and ran his thumbs over the hardened peaks. When your back arched it caused you to accidentally grind against him and this time you both moaned. He bit your lip before letting it go and kissing down your neck.

He sucked and bit making sure to suck each piece of smooth skin he could find. One of his hands pulled out from your shirt and cupped the back of your neck pulling you up before he pulled the shirt swiftly over your head.

He stared at you for a moment. “God, you’re stunning.” He whispered and before you could comprehend what was going on his mouth had latched on to your nipple sucking and slightly biting it making you moan.

He laid you back down and your mind fogged as you unbuckled his belt. However before you could do more he had grabbed both of your hands stopping his attacks on your boobs.

He pulled both your arms above your head and smirked down at your face, you looked stunning. Hair spread out and marks forming on your neck stopping above your breast. Your lips were swollen and bruised. He adored this sight.

God, he wish he had figured this out sooner, that instead of bitching he just actually fucked you. He didn’t think he’d find anything more addicting after seeing you in this state.

He kissed down your body stopping at the hem of your panties and deciding he was to impatient he tore them off making you whine. “i’ll buy you new ones.” He muttered as he got on his knees hooking his arms around your thighs. His hand pushing your stomach down.

You shivered as you felt the cold air of the tower directly on your bare pussy. Without a warning he shoved his face between your legs licking from your hole to your clit, the sensation made you gasp as your back arched.

“fuck!”

Steve groaned hearing the words fall out of your mouth. His tongue switched from sucking your clit to dipping his tongue in and out of you making you squirm. He looked up at you mouth and chin coated in slick. “Do not move your hands.”

Your brows furrowed as you continued to pant. “Wh-mmhh.” Your words turned into a soft moan when you felt one of his thick fingers slide in and bottom out. Your eyes pinched shut and your back arched off the table.

His other finger slid in as well and you tried to close your legs but he pulled them further apart. He watched your expression as he pulled them out almost fully before slamming them back in and curling them. He groaned and nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.

“Such a good girl for me.” He muttered before attaching his lips to your clit again and sucked on it whilst moving his fingers in and out. He Felt you tighten around him and couldn’t wait to see how you feel on his cock.

You were panting and babbling words of his name and please. What really sent you over the edge is when he sucked your clit with his teeth grazing it as he pumped his fingers harder curling them as your fingers locked him in.

Your orgasm crashed over you making your mind fog and your head limp to the side as pathetic whimpers left your plump and less swollen lips. He didn’t seem to care much that you had came all over his face because he kept sucking and licking up every last bit of cum.

You panted as you reached for his pants trying to tug them down as you recovered from your orgasm. When steve had finally freed his cock you assumed your face said it all because his chuckle was dark, taunting like.

He parted your legs again and you tried to close them but he roughly grabbed them pulling you closer to him but you let out a whimper when his huge side rubbed against your sensitive clit.

He made a mock frown face at you. “C’mon now sweetheart, be a good girl and take it for me, hmm?” He said as he massaged your breast with one hand and stroked himself. You nodded now desperate as the ache returned between your legs.

He let the tip slip in and he saw your face completely washed with pleasure. Brows furrowed, parted mouth, marks fully developed, and sweat beading your forehead. Without warning he pushed the rest of his way in and you gasp as he groaned.

You were used to sex of course you’ve had sex before but nobody was this big before. The intrusion felt good but the small sting was there lingering but it only added to the pleasure. “If you don’t stop squeezing’ me i’m gonna fucking cum.”

You relaxed around him and he groaned in relief. You felt more heavenly then he ever could’ve thought. He leaned down and captured your lips with his before thrusting with force and when he lifted one of your legs higher and he lifted your hips your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that had you screaming his name.

“Look at you.” He said panting as he continued to thrust. “Takin it like such a good fucking girl.” With each word his thrust got harder and it made the breath get caught in your throat.

You grabbed his face kissing him harshly and he moaned into your mouth fueling the tightening in your lower stomach already. Suddenly he dropped you legs pushing them on the desk making them bend as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His thrust slowed to deep strokes. “You feel me, hmm?” He said and you moaned when he hit the spot inside you that had you babbling like a dumb person. Suddenly you felt the most unexplainable feeling.

It was like the tightness got tighter but mixed with a load of pleasure. You whimpered at the feeling as steve pushed his hand down harder on your lower tummy. “you feel that.” he panted as he thrusted again. “That’s how deep i am inside of you…”

“ohmygodohmygod.” was all you could babble as he pressed harder making the coil tighten up. “Steve- i’m gonna-“ He shut you up by kissing you as the hand that was pressing the bulge moved to your clit. “Do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.” He whispered as his thrust did not slow down.

He suddenly put his other hand behind your neck making you look down at his cock slipping in and out of you. “fuck- you see that?” He said as he kept moving in and out. Your hand was holding his wrist as his hand was behind your neck.

“C’mon- fuck!.” Steve said when you clenched harder around him. “give it to me.” he muttered as you laid back down and his fingers pinched and rolled your clit and he rubbed in a fast motion causing the coil to snap, your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.

You blanked out for a moment, as black spots filled your vision and you’re pretty sure you said steve more times than any avenger had over the past years. You were moaning, sweaty, dazed and fucked out. Just how he wanted.

You got pulled back down when he kept running you and you whined tryna pull away. “to much.” you muttered and he mocked a frown. “Awe is my baby to fucked out? Look at you all dumb and can barley speak a full sentence.” He said and you moaned as he hit your over worked spot.

“You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside of you hmm? Gonna fill you all up.” He muttered and you nodded. “Please- please cum inside of me.” your voice was hoarse and he held onto you tightly as his head went to your neck and you felt his thrusts getting sloppy before you felt ropes of cum deep inside you.

His head laid on your chest arms your arms circled his shoulder both of you laying there while his hands wrapped around you. He was slowly moving his hips pushing the thick cum into you deeper.

“Mr. Rogers? are you alright your heart rate seems exceptionally high? You as well Miss.” Steve who was Resting between your bare breasts chuckled making you smile.

“Oh i see Mr. Stark and the rest of them have returned. They’re parking.” Jarvis said and steve looked at you lifting you up as he looked at the cum mess on the table.

“Jarvis how much time do we have?” you asked as steve held you legs wrapped around his waist and due to the serum it was easy for him to hold your short frame up with one hand.

“Well five minutes starting now.” You and steve chuckled as you hopped down and cleaned the cum mess and he gathered your guys clothes.

“Good?” You asked fixing the chairs and everything. Steve nodded and Held his arm out and you jumped up wrapping your legs around his waist as he snuck out the room and ran up the stairs to his floor and shut the door.

“Guys?! Did you guys murder each other?”

That was all you heard from downstairs, before you guys bursted into giggles.

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 month

Note

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Well, it took me a couple of days but I did it!! Oh, and it's the longest drabble in the world. Did y'all know a drabble is only 100 words???? I thought it was 100-500...I still wrote way more than that, but still.

Title: No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Prompt: Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Warnings: age gap (Ari is mid-40s, Reader is early-20s), yandere Ari, drugging, non-con fingering (f receiving), non-con p-in-v intercourse, non-con creampie, choking, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Hahahaha this was supposed to be a drabble. Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Moving out on your own isn’t exactly the easiest thing for you. You spent four years living in your college dormitory, but you always had at least one roommate. So, signing a lease and accepting the single set of keys was a huge accomplishment.

Your landlord, Mr. Levinson, is so great. He told you to call him Ari more than once. From the first tour of the apartment to the day of your move-in, he offers his help in many ways. Where the best farmer’s market is, how to reach him if you need any repairs, and even when the local bars close are just a few tidbits he leaves you with.

You get to know him a bit more during a block party one Saturday night. The two of you talk over cheap beer, tamales from Señora Cruz, smoked brisket from Mr. Lorenzo, and lasagna from Mrs. Di Paolo. Ari seems like he is lonely, and your kind heart can’t stand to see someone in need.

Before you know what you are getting into, you agree to have a weekly tea date with him. It’s during one of those visits that you realize that something is a bit odd about Ari. He tries to cover up how he knows what cabinet you keep your tea in, but he makes up some dumb excuse that it would just be “the perfect spot”.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom as he busies himself with setting the tea, and when you come back, a steaming mug is waiting for you on a saucer on your coffee table. Usually, you make the tea, but Ari wanted to help out, and you had a long day at work, so you accepted.

“What is in this tea? It’s almost spicy,” you ask, taking another big gulp of the tea you don’t recognize.

“Is it spicy? Well, it does have ginger and cinnamon in it. Some chamomile, too. A little benzodiazepine in there,” Ari clambers on, trailing off at the end.

“D-did you say benzo…dia…zep,” you slur, reaching for Ari as you sit on the couch, but you end up passing out with your head in his lap.

When you come to, you struggle to remember what happened. Your heavy head pounds as you turn it to the side before putting the heel of your hand to your still-closed eyes.

“Take it slow, Bunny. You must’ve been really tired,” he consoles, from the other side of your bed.

“Mr. Levin-”

“Uhn uh. Call me Ari; no more of that Mr. Levinson polite shit, ok?” he swears for the first time in your presence.

“Um, Ari… What are you doing in my bedroom?” you ask, your mind a blank slate from earlier.

“Oh, Bunny. You invited me over for tea, and then you weren’t feeling well, and you asked me to stay until you felt better. Next thing I know, I’m carrying you in here because you fell asleep on me with that sweet little face of yours right in my lap,” he comforts, the knuckles of his hand sliding down your face before he boops your nose.

“Why do you keep calling me Bunny?” you mewl, still trying to get in control of all your limbs.

“When you sleep, you furrow your eyebrows and scrunch up your nose like a little bunny. It’s one of the cutest things you do,” he admires, his hand now moving down your neck and through the valley of your breasts to get to where your skirt rides up your thigh.

“Mr.-Ari…I think I feel better now; you don’t have to-”

Your words are cut off when Ari reaches under your skirt, and you specifically remember having on panties earlier today, but his fingers are touching your tender pussy directly. Did he take off your underwear?

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must’ve been all that time I spent rubbing your cute little cunt through those white cotton panties. God, those little moans you were making went straight to my cock, Bunny. Feel it,” he dares, grabbing your hand and resting it against the thick outline of his dick through his Wranglers.

While your hand is on his length, he shoves two of his fingers into your wet heat. At first, you are surprised by the shock of it. But soon, you can tell that he knows how to work your body. You scream out his name, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he shoves one hand over your mouth and gets close to your ear.

“You’re not gonna ruin this for me. You have been parading yourself around here like you’re some holier-than-thou sweet little thing. And I knew you’d end up letting me smash at some point. But I didn’t wanna wait anymore, Bunny. You have had me wrapped around that little finger of yours since you moved in. It’s time that I get what’s owed to me-what you’ve been flaunting in front of me,” he sneers, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean before opening his pants and pulling his dick out.

He lines up with your sodden core before thrusting in with no grace or elegance. Slamming himself inside your tight snatch for the first time feels like he is splitting you in two. You’re no virgin, but you also don’t have much casual sex, so Ari’s thickness was a shock, to say the least.

“Sweet Bunny, you’re so tight. What a good girl! You’ve been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you, huh? Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. You hear that, Bunny? Hear how that cunt loves it when I fuck it? Love that loud, sloshy pussy,” he beams, his wide hips between your legs making your joints hurt.

You’re in stunned silence as Ari uses your body to chase his release. Your mind is bringing up all the times it seemed like he was getting a little too close for comfort. All the times when he would talk to you about his divorce, or his current dating trend, or the fact that he once told you that a pretty thing like you belonged locked up in a tower for a prince to come and free you.

Did he think he was a charming prince?

“Oh, Bunny, fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Look at me; wanna see your eyes when I cum inside you,” he blurts, holding your face in his hands as you look into his dilated, hungry eyes. “Take it. Just. Like. That.” The last few words are punctuated with thrusts as he paints your walls with thick, milky ropes.

Once he closes his eyes, his hips remain still, and his forehead meets yours. This would be almost romantic if Ari didn’t make it beyond creepy by whispering how perfect you are and peppering kisses all over your face. His softening cock finally slips free from you, and you are happy to be empty until you feel the flow of his semen leaking from you. He notices your discomfort and mocks your whines as he pushes his jizz back into your swollen hole.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he starts, moving off of you to recline next to you, “Not gonna leave this bed ‘til you’re knocked up. As soon as you are, I’m gonna move you in with me. You are gonna be well taken care of, too. You are so perfect-every little thing about you. And when the baby comes, we are gonna be the perfect little family. You wouldn’t wanna ruin our family, right? You’re gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” he implores, holding your cheeks in his hand so your lips poke out a bit.

You nod while tears stream from your eyes, finding it hard to form words. But what would you have said? He seems to like you mostly silent; you haven’t uttered a single word since before he was inside you. It wasn’t too late to try, but it was too late to have hope; at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get hard again just looking at you. On all fours for me, Bunny. I know you got it in you,” he orders, no kindness in his voice.

You quickly scramble to get on your hands and knees for him and are happy that he is pleased with your speed. As he slides into your sensitive folds again, you grimace but hold in your noises of pain. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you hurt, even though what he is doing is traumatizing. He relishes in the gushy sounds your pairing makes and the mighty “oomph” you make when he wraps an arm around your neck and flattens you down to your belly.

He has you in a chokehold while his hips canter back and forth, plunging his length deeper and deeper inside you. When he hears you start to sputter and gulp in air, he removes his arm from around your neck and holds your face cheek-down on the bed.

“Look at her, taking my cock just like she should. You’ll be the prettiest little wife and mother, won’t you? Gonna keep you nice and round as much as I can. My perfect little Bunny…ugh, fuck,” he blurts, his release surprising him suddenly.

When he pulls out, he smacks your ass and lays down next to you while your life flashes before your eyes. He moves closer to you, readjusting your body to lay on top of his as he rubs your back. He kisses the top of your head in such a kind gesture that you feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

You can’t even bring yourself to fully cry, the tears streaming down your face just to splash on Ari’s denim shirt. Forgotten and dried up to never be seen again.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble!!!!

**Tag List**

I also didn't know who to tag since this is the first time I wrote Ari.

#chris evans #ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson smut #chris evans characters #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn prompt fill #ask reply #landlord ari levinson #dark ari levinson #dark ari levinson fanfic #dark fic #dark fanfiction #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dead dove

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lilacevans · 6 days

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𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧': 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ dark!ari levinson x female!reader (non-descriptive)

✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 375.

✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: breeding, dirty talk, usual filthy ari

✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: anonymous

✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: wakey wakey besties, new drabble just dropped!!!!! hiiiii!!!! how ya been!! i've missed u all sm so i return with a little ari drabble <33 all of this was written on my phone so pls mind the mistakes and lemme know what u think!!!<3

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here. *this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

“You fuckin’ feel me, pup? Hmm? Feel me deep in this little cunt?” Ari rambled heatedly into your ear as his hips battered against the meat of your ass. Your frame bent underneath him, your breath moistened the sheet below you; pitiful moans and pleading whines were the only thing to fall past your spit slicked lips as your head swirled with everything Ari.

“S’matter? Can’t speak? Can’t think?” Ari teased before lifting a little to snake an arm around your neck, bicep hugging your throat while he continued to fervently fuck into you. You couldn’t help but meet his thrusts, arching your back to drive your hips together harder, deeper. “That’s it, ‘atta girl, fuck yourself back on my cock. Keep it goin’, baby. Gonna fill you to the brim, breed this tight pussy.”

A cock-drunk smile cracked across your lips hearing Ari’s lustful rants. One thing about Ari is that it was guaranteed that he’d lose all ability to keep his filthy thoughts to himself once inside you.

“Whining like a bitch in heat. You want it? You want me to breed you, hmm? Knock you up with a little pup, mmm? Send you to Curtis’ next for a fill, then your golden boy— your Stevie,” Ari spat his name like it was venom on his tongue as he drove his cock deeper into your aching cunt. “Then your Jakey… Although he prefers this little hole, doesn’t he?”

Ari’s thumb pressed against the tight ring, the pad of his thumb slick with his spit, or the leaking wetness spilling from around his cock.

“Finish you off with Pete and that awful, mean Lloyd, hmm? Make sure you have a whole litter. Nothin’ but a hole for us to fill— Fuck,” Ari cut off, strangled and twisted as you felt his hips stutter, your head dropping to the pillow below as he filled you and used his softening cock to fuck his cum deep inside you.

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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months

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Your Mark On Me, Part 3

Summary: you keep pushing his buttons...

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, degradation, dirty talk, non con/dub con, spanking, inspecting, spitting, fingering, squirting, oral sex (F receiving), skinny dipping, pussy job, just the tip, a bit of cream pie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.1K

Series Masterlist

*Tattooed Steve edit by @randomagnes0210

*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You take a long look out the window, your eyes casting around in every direction until you see him. Bucky gives you a cheeky grin, holding up his hand, and you back away from the window, hiding yourself. Annoyed at not even being able to walk around in your panties in your apartment if you wanted to. He was always going to tell Steve. You couldn’t escape him. And staying cooped up in your apartment was thoroughly starting to piss you off.

It was supposed to be your break in between semesters, and you should be having fun. But no. Instead your every move is followed. You have a feeling Bucky even writes down what you do with time stamps just to let Steve know. He was there when you wake up, there when you leave your apartment, and even there when you go to sleep.

Did he sleep? Was he going to go crazy with a lack of sleep? You pace around the apartment, tempted to open your curtain, and put on a show for Bucky, just to piss Steve off. It’s what he deserved after he did what he did.

When he did what he did…

You hadn’t stopped thinking about that night. The moment when you had forgotten about everything around you, and just let him take you to a different world. A world of blinding pleasure. You had forgotten your name. There has been a numbness in you since that night. And you wanted him to help you live again, and also feared the things he was making you feel.

You ignored the frequent text messages from Steve. At night the messages got filthier, and you wanted to scream in your pillow. While his face was buried between your thighs, and he was doing whatever he did with his tongue, and even his teeth.

“No!” You scream out loud as your hands start to shake. What was wrong with you? Why was you letting this man lead you to temptation and right to a shortcut to hell?

You wanted him. You feared him. You hated him. You need him to…to do something. You didn’t want to say it, and couldn’t say it. This was new. All of it was new, and you didn’t understand Steve’s strong obsession with you. You! You? What was so special about you? Why did he want you? What was his end goal? Was it only to fuck you and then leave?

Taking another look out the window just to find Bucky in the same spot, sucking on a cigarette. He would know, Bucky knew everything. Putting on some coffee you leave your apartment, and walk out to Bucky, who stands up straight immediately. Hand at the phone in his pocket while he looks at you questioningly.

“Don’t call him,” Bucky struggles with your request. You were not where you were supposed to be. You hadn’t even left this town, and ventured back home. “Have some coffee with me. I feel bad that you’re out here all alone, all day and all night. It isn’t fair.”

“I have my orders,” his hand still taps along his pocket, and the last thing you want is for him to call Steve. You couldn’t handle Steve being in your home, and your place of peace.

“Some coffee would be good for you, come on,” you go to reach for his hand, but he stands up completely straight, and his eyes fix behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“Dove, you should know by now not to touch me; ever. Especially without him present. I’m running out of lives, and I don’t want to die today,” you give a little bite to your lip, your feet shuffling around nervously, wondering if you had pushed too far. You weren’t an idiot, even if you wanted to play as such.

Bucky wants to roll his eyes at just how perfect you are for Steve. How you had enough fight in you to keep things interesting, but also his undying love for innocence. For the chase, and you were running; sprinting away from him even if your body was yelling for him to come back. You just weren't so fast enough that Steve couldn’t catch you. “Fine. Coffee, but you deal with the consequences.”

“Consequences? For having coffee?” Oh you did love to play this silly little girl game. Judging by the swishing around of your thighs, you knew exactly what the consequences would be.

He leans close enough into you, whispering just slightly off from your ear, “Don’t play dumb, little bird,” before heading straight towards your building. “So?” He pauses, turning to look at you when you don’t move. “Are we having coffee?”

“Yes,” you answer with such certainty that it scares you.

“I see why he likes her,” Bucky mumbles, waiting for you to take the lead. He didn’t have to contact Steve. Steve would look down at his phone, and see that Bucky was in your apartment. Would see Bucky in your space, but with you. Alone. He could already feel Steve’s anger prickling on his skin once he realized where he was, and just who he was with. You were just dangerous enough to yourself, but also for Steve.

“So…what’s yours and Steve’s story?” You pour him his coffee, sitting at the bar, and push out a chair for him. He doesn’t take the chair, but instead lifts himself up on the counter. “You and him seem to go back further than him and Sam.”

“Steve trusts very few people. Sam and I are two of them. But you are correct in thinking that Steve and I have known each other longer. Sam has been more than loyal to the both of us,” your head tilts to the side, listening to Bucky. It was almost normal. Steve was anything but safe though. However, he had people that believed in something. Believed in him and whatever empire he was building.

“Why drugs?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he gives you a wink. Lifting his arm up to look at his watch with a smirk. “Why were you buying?”

“You know why. I needed to stay up to cram for finals. Math isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he cocks a brow up, while he drinks his coffee, and you almost feel guilty for staring at him. It was silly because you weren’t with Steve. You could look at whoever you pleased.

“Have you ever tried any other drugs?” Shaking your head rapidly, you cast your eyes to anything in the kitchen. Making silly notes about what you needed to do to keep it clean. Wondering where the cameras were in here. “Was that your first time?”

“Yes. I’ve always just taken my medication as it’s prescribed.”

“Ever been drunk?” You had piqued his interest. Bucky was just wasting time because Steve was already enroute, and he was about to be yelled at, but you were getting far more than screams. “Hmm?”

“No,” your voice whispers, and you dare to look back up at him. “I just recently became of age.”

“Wait…you’ve never had anything to drink?” You shake your head no. There couldn't’ be that much that you had missed from getting drunk. Alcohol stunk, and it was illegal for you to have consumed before now. “Wow, you really are…”

You jump off the stool, your mug shattering on the tile as Steve bursts through the door. His nostrils flaring, and his skin looked like it was on fire with the way his muscles are tensing up. Backing up from him with every step he takes closer to you.

Taking his eyes off you only to glare at Bucky, “I’ll deal with you later. Dovey,” he tsks, turning to look at you. He is too calm with his words, but the way he slung that door open, he was anything but calm. He was pissed off at you.

“You’ve been a bad bad girl,” you can only squeak, as you look around the apartment. “We both know there's no hiding places in here. I’ve looked at the blueprints, little bird. Where are you gonna run to?”

“Steve, don’t,” you gulp, flinching away as he tries to grab you.

“Do you remember what I told you about your tears?” You shake your head no. You couldn’t think. There is a searing light in your eyes and loud ringing in your ears that was keeping you from thinking straight. He had mentioned something about tears, but exactly what you can’t recall.

“When you cry all I can think about is splitting you open for the first time. It will hurt, Dovey. You will cry, and I will lick the tears off your cheeks, as I wait for that tight little cunt to stop screaming from the stretch.’

“Steve, please,” you tremble, but he moans in return. He mistook your pleads as begging. “I’m not begging!”

“And I’m not asking,” you scream as you dart past him, but his inky hand grabs onto your wrist, pulling you into his hard chest, and nearly knocking the breath out of you. Covering your wails with his hand as he hauls you over to the couch.

Letting himself sit down before he lays your belly over his lap. “I am thankful that you wear skirts,” hearing the malice in his voice only makes your entire body shiver with anticipation of what is coming next. “Bucky, close the door, while I have a chat with my little bird.”

“Steve, I’m sorry,” you hiccup. Wiggling around, you try to get off his lap, but it wasn’t helping. “I don’t know what I did…Bucky?”

“Don’t call for him. He protects you when I’m not around, he doesn’t protect you from me. Did he or did he not say you would have consequences for being alone with him?” You whimper as you nod your head, and you get a swift smack on your ass. “Words, Dove.”

“Yes, sir,” tears start flowing down your face, and it just angers you. This stupid man that rushed into your life has you draped over his lap like a toddler, and was intent in spanking you.

“And not only did you bring him in here with you alone, you then had the audacity to talk about me, hmm?” You don’t answer fast enough, and he smacks you again, but this time on the other cheek. Flattening his hand out, he rubs over the stinging skin.

“I didn’t…I-I-I didn’t know.”

“If you want to know anything about me, then you better fucking ask me. That sneaky bullshit will not fly with me. Do you understand?” Another smack on your ass with an even more soothing rub this time. “Can you fucking hear?” One more slap.

“Yes, sir. I under…understand. No!” He places his elbow on your back as he lifts up your skirt. Chuckling when each hand pulls apart your cheeks. “Steve, stop! Don’t look! Don’t!”

“Why not, Dovey?” He moans, leaning down closer he inhales deeply. What you assume was a pinky finger flicks up and down your cotton covered slit. “Your cunt is crying for me. Just as hard as those pathetic tears rolling down your cheeks. You know why we work, Dovey? I enjoy this just as much as you do.”

“I don’t,” he has your panties pulled down in one second. Each hand stretching your cheeks wide as he gazes at your virgin hole. Everything is too quiet as he stares at you in the most vulnerable state you have ever been in. Sure that Bucky was watching your core as hard as Steve.

Seconds go by that feels like hours. And then a drip of Steve’s saliva flows through your lips. “You’re a fucking liar,” his voice cutting deep inside of you. “Why are you lying? That tight light hole is clenching, Dove. She wants a big cock to fuck her so hard and deep, huh? Hehe,” he looks up at Bucky, pulling you even further apart.

“See, Buck. She’s throbbing just thinking about me fucking her. Look,” Bucky has been a target of Steve’s anger many times. And there was no right answer here. Steve would be offended if he didn’t look. “Dove, I’m going to fuck you so deep you feel me in your belly.”

“Oh,” Bucky tries to sound interested as your walls flutter around nothing. Searching for something to squeeze tightly. Pulsing in vain. But something more catches his eyes, “How are you going to fit in there?”

“Oh, I’ll make it fit,” he spits down to your center again as two fingers roam through your slick. Coating themselves in your juices, and you clench your eyes close. Biting on your lip as he plunges two thick fingers into your warmth, and you lift your head up sobbing his name.

“That’s just two fingers, pretty girl,” pumping his fingers in and out of you he moans at the sound of your wetness. Lewd squelching sounds scream into the quiet apartment. “See how easy I fit in there when you have a sloppy cunt like this? It’s because I am made for you, and this is my pussy. I wish you could see your pussy cling onto my fingers. She doesn't’ want to let me go. She is weeping out onto your legs just thinking about me, Dovey.”

He speeds up his motions, curling his fingers and he hits a spot inside of you that makes orbs of fuzzy light pop up in your vision. Sounds you have never heard before leak out of your mouth, and your body chases his fingers. Reacting and needing him to stay deep inside of you. And you seek out him to constantly fill you whole.

Hugging his digits so tightly that you can’t help but to pant out his name, “I know, baby. It’s what you’ve needed. You needed to be punished for acting like a sneaky bitch. But it gets you so worked up. Your body craves this attention. Has been begging for this, huh? You like this, Dovey?”

My god, you loved it. Thoughts just didn’t even register because of the paralyzing pleasure. You just take it. Take every bit of his fingers. Eyes rolling in the back of your head as he scissors himself deep inside of you. Pressing a thumb on your clit, and you speak in tongue.

Euphoria you have never felt. Your cum coats his fingers, but it only eggs him on. Going harder into you. The only thing for you to hold is his leg, and you dig your fingers into him. He hisses as he pounds into you. Not stopping until you're screaming his name, and you squirt out your release. And Steve moans, delighted at how messy you are.

“Good fucking girl!” Jerking his fingers out, he grabs you at the hips. Lifting your bottom up to him, and he buries himself between your thighs. Laving and slurping up every bit of your release. Moaning at your tastes as he sucks every bit of it up.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, but as soon as it starts, he stops. Steve pulls apart your body, and stares at the tiny gape of your hole. You could take so much more, and he was tempted to add a third finger next time. But he wanted more than anything for you to cry when he bottoms out into you. Addicted to something he hadn’t properly got to experience. And that was all of you.

His sight never leaves your cunt as he tells Bucky to pack you a bag because the two of you were going on a short little trip. Bucky nods, knowing exactly where Steve was going to take you. He whispers a prayer for you. If Steve had it his way he was going to fuck this ‘brat’ right out of you.

Bucky wouldn’t call you a brat, but you knew what you were doing. Driving Steve crazy enough to both pleasure and humiliate you. One day you would learn, you didn’t have to push his buttons to get him to play with you. You had this power over Steve that neither of you understood. And Bucky had never witnessed anything quite like this.

“Dovey, if I hear you talk back to me once on this drive, you’re going to ride the rest of the way with two of my fingers in your cunt, and both your titties hanging out of your shirt. Please tell me that you understand.”

His hold loosens on you, and he gives you a moment to sit up. Waiting on you to roll your drenched panties back up your body, and you nod. You couldn’t look at him because he had seen such a private part of you, and showed Bucky, “Yes, sir.”

“Good, girl. You’re learning. Seems like you’re starting to break. Buck, you make sure Sam understands that the two of you are in charge,” Steve holds out his hand as he stands up. Waiting on you to take hold before he leads the two of you to the door.

“Steve, take it easy on her. She’s not ready,” he whispers to his friend, but Steve returns his warning with a smile. He was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted with you. You wanted to know about him, so he was going to give you the opportunity to ask. If you could focus. He’d tell you everything you need to know. He just hopes it’s the right questions.

“Steve, I don’t want to be here,” your lip trembles as he steps out of the car. Stalking over to your side while you stare at only one thing. One cabin. In the middle of fucking nowhere. It had been miles since you even saw the las

“Steve, no!” Screaming as he opens your door. There isn’t any flight left in you. It is just complete shutting down. He holds out his hand for you to take, but you violently shake. He was going to murder you here. “Steve, don’t. Don’t!”

He gives a growl as his hands try to wrangle you out of the vehicle, and you thrash around. If you were going to die, at least you’d die trying. “Please, just…”

“You wanted to ask questions, now get out of the fucking car!” Pulling you a bit harder, you let your body turn to dead weight, and you drop to the ground with a hard thud. Blinking your eyes and coughing as you try to catch your breath.

“Would you shut up?” His voice rattles, hauling you up over his shoulder. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do to you? We’re going in the fucking cabin, and you’re going to ask your stupid damn questions.”

“B-b-b-but we’re alone! You’re going to…” dropping you onto the couch, his body hovers over you. Those blackened with ink arms caging you. He rolls his hips, and his hardening cock skims over your core, and you squeal.

“You like that, huh? You like feeling me on you?” His breath is hot on your skin as he does it again. “We’re all alone, Dovey, and no one can hear your screams when you take every inch of me.”

“I’m not b-b-begging.”

“Aw, but aren’t you?” Readjusting himself, his hand cups your covered core. The face of pure sadistic torture grins down at you. “You’re so hot and wound up you’re going to burn the cabin down, Dovey. You’ve ruined these panties, you're so wet. Quit letting your mind take control, and trust me.”

“I’ll never trust you,” it is something you felt deep within your soul. How could you trust someone that was like him? Someone that got off on your embarrassment, and enjoyed showing it to everyone. “You just want to use me.”

A flash of tattoos comes at your face, and his fingers dig into your cheeks as he grabs you tight. Forcing you to quit looking around, and look straight at him. “Dovey, if I wanted to use you, I would have had you that first night. I did you a kindness in marking you up. People know not to fuck with Steve Rogers. You’re just the stupid girl who came into my lair thinking you would outsmart me. Do you realize how many times I could have fucked you by now? I could have put the cameras on us, and let the club watch as I took the gift that could never be returned. And you’re the brat that wants to keep pushing my fucking buttons.”

You whimper as his weight starts to settle on your body. His monstrosity of a cock pressing into your center, and a flash of blinding light covers your vision, and all you can do is feel. Feel his pulse through his cock as it pounds right at your entrance, and the way his breath blows out over your face as he chuckles. You hate him.

“Sweetheart, it would loosen you up in more ways than one. You need this as much as I do. You’re denying us the ultimate pleasure when all you have to do is let me squeeze through your walls, break them down, too.”

Gulping, you keep perfect eye contact as your head twists back and forth, whispering out, “No.”

A rumble climbs up his chest, and the vibrations go right to your weeping cunt as he sits up. Putting his weight on his heels, and kneeling before you. His body keeps your legs wide, and he pulls up your skirt, watching your covered pussy as he pulls his shirt off.

He is a god amongst men. Rippling cords of muscle stretch over his chest, and it was accentuated perfectly with the most beautiful and intricate designs. The man clearly enjoyed art, but also pain. No inch of his chest wasn’t touched with a needle.

While you’re in a trance with his tattoos, Steve undoes his pants, and gives them a little tug down. “Oh my god!” You screech as his monster dick flops out of his pants. The only thing not covered in tattoos, and right at the tip. “You’re pierced?”

“If it scares you that much, our first time, I’ll take it out. It’s quite pleasurable for you,” Steve wraps his fist around the base, and gives the growing member a few pumps, “You can’t take your eyes off it. Have you ever seen a dick before?”

“Yeah. Plenty of times.”

“Tell me whose dick you’ve seen, little bird.”

“Why?” You look up at him, unblinking. There is a fire that is burning all the way from the pit of his stomach to his eyes. Looking almost demonic as his pupils spread out so wide.

“So I can kill them. No dick that has touched your body is going to stay alive,” he tilts his head to the side, smiling when you finally look up at his face. “I am very serious, sweetheart. Tell me. Their names.”

“I don’t know — I don't know their names,” he tenses in front of you, and you cover your eyes. “They were on the internet,” the walls of the cabin rattle with his booming laughter. While you’re trying to melt away, he runs the tip of his length over your panties, and you flinch. Trying to sit yourself up, but he pushes you back down.

“You mean to tell me I wasted showing you my cock, and it’s the first in life one you’ve ever seen? Dove, no wonder you’re on edge. You just about came undone from my tip at your panties, or maybe it was the piercing. You like the way this feels, my sweet little angel. Come on,” standing up, he fully gets undressed, proving that yes, he was pretty much covered in tattoos. His face and his dick are the exception. “They’re too pretty, darling. Let’s go.”

“Where?” It’s a struggle to sit up with the high emotions you have been feeling. Wobbly legs keep you from standing too quickly. There’s a dizziness that you feel in every part of your body.

“Bucky packed you a bathing suit, put it on, or join me in the hot tub naked. You need to relax,” there was a shift in his voice. Typically there is some grit to it. As if it was constantly filled with anger. Now it sounds — normal. He stands watching you as you try to process what it is you wanted to do. “Do I need to turn around for you to change? I wouldn’t advise running. There’s nobody here for miles. And if you run again, my patience and kindness will be gone, and I can’t promise what I will do.”

“Can I go get my bag?” He nods his head, gesturing for you to go out to the car, and you take careful steps. Counting each inhale and exhale as you walk to the car. Looking back at Steve who remains calm. He dares you to run just so he can capture you in his snares, but you won’t.

This time, you want to listen. Especially if he was going to grant you with asking questions. Bucky sucked at packing your bag. A shirt, panties, and the skimpiest bathing suit you owned. At least he remembered a toothbrush. Feeling a bit more irritated now, you walk back into the cabin, and gawk at Steve.

“Can you turn around?”

“Good girls say please.”

“And I didn’t,” giving you a crooked smile, he turns around. Giving you the smallest privacy to undress.

“I bet it feels nice to get out of those wet panties,” you ignore him. It did feel nice. Everything had started to stick to you, and it was like peeling wet clothes off. “That skin would look really pretty with a needle in it.”

“Why are you like this?” Looking up, you notice a mirror pointed right at you. Steve saw everything. Saw you undress, and didn’t look away.

“Tell me I didn’t make you so wet that you had to use your clothes to wipe your honey off your legs. We’re getting in a hot tub, Dove, it’ll wash right off.”

“Do you ever give privacy?”

“No. But you do have some nice tits. Let’s go,” Steve reaches back to give you a little tug, but you shake your head no, pointing at his dick. “Oh, I don’t get in the hot tub with clothes on. The anaconda will be underwater, you won’t be able to see him.”

“Clarence,” he scrunches his face up as you walk past him, and out on the back porch, assuming that’s where this hot tub was. You just need to not have that thing staring at you right now. “That’s what I’m going to call your penis; Clarence.”

“Clarence? Why not something like The Hammer or…”

“Clarence,” it’s what it was going to be. If he wanted you to look at it, you were going to give it a name that wasn’t so imposing. Steve walks past you, and settles himself into the pool. Giving a soft moan at how the heat was working out his own tension.

“Is it hot?”

“It is, but it’s not as hot as your tight little cunt. How’s she feeling?” Don’t answer him. Allow him his cocky little comments, and do what is asked. Make this easy and unpainful, and you’d feel better for it.

You wait on Steve to settle back into the water, and his eyes roam over your body hungrily. Watching as each inch of it gets swallowed by the heat, and he chuckles when you sit on the opposite side of him. Looking at anything that wasn’t Steve. He cracks his neck, and uses his thick fingers to trace around his lip, and he just smirks at you.

“I don’t like people who go behind my back.”

“I didn’t,” you finally meet his gaze, and it’s hard to look away. He is even sexier with water lapping up against his skin. The same skin that was setting your body ablaze. He had seared into every part of you, and your body craved him. Needed him to touch you.

“Didn’t Bucky tell you that there would be consequences?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’m talking,” he interrupts, wading over closer to you. Both hands plant themselves on either side of you, and he stands up out of the water. His giant cock wet and bouncing right at your face. “You continue to talk over me, and I’ll slip something in your mouth to keep you quiet. Bucky warned you about the consequences of taking him into your apartment without me. You disobeyed. You chose to ignore him. Playing your stupid fucking childish game of being too naive to realize what you acting up does to me.”

He removes one hand from the back of the hot tub, and grips his cock. Rocking it right at your lips, but never touching you. “I can see it in your eyes how curious you are to know what a real cock feels like. I can show you.”

“I’m not begging,” you cross your legs, clenching them tight together. Refusing to let your pussy get you in any more trouble.

“Yet. Your body is, but your mouth is stubborn. Maybe I should give her a little taste. Come on, suck my dick and join me in the underworld.”

“Continue your threats.”

You whimper when his low growling laugh vibrates at your core. Wondering how he was able to make you feel him in a place he had hardly touched. “What do you want to know about me? I’ll give you five questions to ask, so you better make them count. That is going behind my back, little bird. You want to act all innocent, but you want to know what makes me tick. Why did I become who I am? So ask.”

“Why? Why do you do this?”

“I’m going to count that as two. Be careful next time,” sitting beside you, his hand runs up and down your thigh, and without realizing it, your legs start pulling apart. Giving him ample space to get to your cunt.

“I do this because I can control what’s out there. These streets ran rampant with cheap drugs cut with who the fuck knows. I sell pure. It costs more, but you won’t die from a damn accidental overdose because your drug of choice was laced with something. Three more.”

Your mouth drops open when his hand settles as high up on your thigh as possible sliding down, and rubs over the apex of your thigh, but never where your body truly wants it. You even lean back further, granting him more access, but his fingers don’t drift around. “How…why the playground?”

“You really fucking suck at this. There’s two more. You’re down to one question after this.”

“You’re fucking distracting me!” He grabs you up, placing you in his lap. Your body facing the same way as you. Using his legs to lock your own in place. Moving your bottoms to the side before pressing his dick right in between your pussy lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

“You want to say fuck, you better make sure my dick is so deep inside you that you feel me in your filthy little mouth. I will not give you another chance, Dove. I mean it. I won’t wait for you to be blubbering, and crawling on your knees as you beg for me to be inside. I will take it. Is this your tactic, Dove? I don’t want to take. I want you to fully give that to me. You are so hot and slippery, you’re ready, but are you ready for me to have you down on your knees?”

“Please…” what were you asking him for? Why was he able to make you melt and repulse you simultaneously?

“Please just put it in there?” You shake your head no, and his mouth attacks your neck. Kissing and sucking at the sensitive column, while your hips buck up and down. Allowing his sinful dick to roam through your folds. His tip knocks against your clit, and you lean your head back against Steve.

“Easy, baby. You’re going to make yourself pass out before we get to the good part. That’s my playground. I have fond memories of bullies throwing me around the yard. If it wasn’t for Bucky, I would have died there. I promised myself that not only would I survive, but I was going to be bigger and meaner than any of those pieces of shit, and they would all cower just hearing my name.”

“Steve. Steve!” He is only holding his dick up against your body, it is you that is moving, grinding on him and searching for more, and terrified to have it. But he feels like heaven. He hadn’t even entered inside of you, and you are a mess.

“One more question, Dove. Be a good girl, and ask your pathetic little question since you need to know about the big bad drug lord that is following you around, and becoming more and more obsessed with you. Go on.”

“Why me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He is marking every inch of your neck with his filthy mouth. Yet again making sure that everyone knew that you were taken. And he would kill someone that would just look at you. Willing to murder anyone who’s cock you had seen. Even online porn couldn’t prepare you for this.

“I love challenges. I have this pretty little bird that is dying to be fucked deep and hard, but because of her upbringing or some shit, is denying herself pleasure. You need someone like me,” his voice starts going up an octave, and you grind on him faster. Harder. Both of you are needy and searching for something.

“That’s it, Dovey. I’m…I’m,” he holds your lips apart with two fingers, and presses his spongy tip in your entrance, and as soon as you are screaming at the intrusion, his cum spurts through you. Most of it spilling out, and mixing with the water, but some of it is a glorious warmth that you loathe.

He holds you in place, keeping you from squirming around as he looks down into the water, “I could do it you know. You’re breathing heavily, and this isn’t even the painful part. I’m getting tired of you acting like a little bitch. Do you see how easily I can take, Dove? Do you see that I have you right where I want you, but I’m giving you enough grace and power to tell me when our first time is?”

“But…you’re inside me…Steve, I wasn’t begging.”

“And I’m not fucking. I’m not even an inch inside. Enjoy my seed in you, Dove. Pretty soon it’ll be second nature to take my cock, and be filled with me. You wanted the consequences, this is it. But next time, it’ll be so much worse.”

“Just fuck me then,” you spit out, but he lifts you off him, and stands up. This time rubbing his tip over your pouty lips. You notice the bit of change in him, but keep your mouth shut. Letting him paint you with the remnants of the two of you.

“I’m no longer hard, and you’re not begging. But soon, Dove, soon you’ll wake up to me thrusting into you. You’ll sit on my lap, warming my cock while I distribute the drugs. You will be on all fours at the table, letting me inspect that greedy cunt before I plunge into her, and Bucky gets to see me fill your belly with my child. Get out of this tub, and let's go to bed.”

“Why are you so mean?”

“Why are you?” The audacity! You aren’t mean. “You’re mean to yourself, and I never said I was nice. Get out of this fucking tub, and let’s get in the bed.”

He doesn’t even turn around to look at you as he walks back into the cabin. There was no escape, and you are coming to realize that everyday that you are with him. Were you the problem here? Would it be so bad to let him inside of you?

Questions abound quickly in your mind, and you couldn’t process them long enough to answer. Allowing your body to go on autopilot just for tonight. Even if you are angry at what he just did. But are you? Are you really denying something that was living in between heaven and hell?

“Get in the bed,” Steve growls, pulling back the covers. “I have on underwear,” you gulp as you look around the room. Bucky hadn’t given you much thought to pack your clothes. Barely anything was in your bag.

“Here,” Steve says, tossing you a shirt. And you’re just stubborn enough, and still pissed at him from earlier. Undoing your bathing suit top you let it fall to the floor. Letting Steve angrily stare at your curves, and peaked nipples before letting the bottoms fall.

“You’re pushing me, Dovey,” he growls out. Stunned, and refusing to move. Your skin still damp from the tub. Water drips creating a trail right between your legs. “Dove!”

“Now, you know how it feels,” you’re sure you will pay for that later, but at this moment, it feels like you are taking the power back. You’re choosing to show him your body. Letitng him see how hard your nipples are with desire.

Pulling only his shirt on, you crawl onto the bed, tapping the other side, “Aren’t you going to get in?”

“You didn’t put panties on.”

“But you have on underwear. Seems a fair trade,” he grouses something under his breath, but crawls in behind you, pulling you completely flush with his body. Easing a thigh in between your leg, and pressing it firmly against your core. “Steve?”

“It’s my turn to ask questions,” he ignores your hands that try to push his hard leg away from you. Tense in his embrace, but he starts melting into you. Snuggling his face right behind your ear, and you hate the hold he has over you. “Why are you a virgin?”

“Because I haven’t had sex.”

He growls right up next to your ear, and you bite your lip. Hoping that he couldn’t feel how amazing that sound felt. “Why haven’t you had sex?”

The real question. You didn’t have a smart remark to get you out of it. He wanted the truth, and you weren’t ready to give it to him. “Because…”

“Because why?”

“That’s three questions, Steve.”

“I don’t care about the others. Just answer that one,” you wiggle around, wanting to actually give him the attention he wanted, but his hold is too great. “What are you doing?”

“I want to look at you while I answer,” immediately he lets you go. Waiting on you to flop to the other side, but he still pulls you in tight to him. Lifting your leg to throw over his hip. “I’ve never had this.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re a virgin. I’m sure if you laid like this with a — boyfriend,” the taste of that word is rotten in his mouth. No one deserved you. He didn’t deserve you, he was just desperate enough to capture you and make you his.

“No…not even that,” he cocks up an eyebrow as his features soften. He was beautiful. You had a crazy feeling no one ever saw this soft side of him. He had spent years creating his drug lord persona, that he forgot what being a lowly human was like.

“Boys aren’t interested in me. All my friends had them, and I…I was the third wheel. Or the fifth. But you get the point. No one has ever told me that I was — that I’m beautiful.”

He lets out an exasperated breath, and drifts closer to you. So close his lips brush against yours when he whispers your name, “You’re beautiful. And I’m no boy. I am a man, and you are mine. You don’t have to worry about all the boys that didn’t see you. The boys that didn’t realize what diamond that they had in front of them. And I won't have to worry about murdering them.”

“I’m thankful for that.”

“Look at me, and tell me that you’re beautiful,” it’s a strange request to make, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. You were taught not to lie, and you didn’t fully believe it yourself. You had spent most of your life invisible, and no one ever noticed you, until this man came out of the shadows, and was trying to bring you into his own world of darkness.

“Say it. Tell me that you’re beautiful. Dovey, please,” you can’t. You shake your head no, letting your eyes start to close as you try and fight away the tears. He wasn’t going to see you cry. “You’re beautiful. And if I have to be the one to tell you that everyday for you to realize that you are, I will. Maybe that’s my purpose. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. And sexy. And kind. And I want to corrupt you and bring you over into my darkness. Make you my whore, so you realize how irresistible that I find you.”

“Stop. Please, don’t…” he hears the crack in your voice. He would kill everyone that dared to make you feel unworthy. You were worthy. You were everything.

“You’re beautiful, darling. I have perfect vision, and I have seen a lot of women. None are as spectacular as you. Close your eyes, relax in my embrace because I’m never letting you go ever again. You’re stuck with me. I don’t want you to lose your fight, but just for tonight. Let’s call a truce.”

“Fine,” you mumble, finally letting his warmth envelop you as you relax in his embrace. It is an oddly satisfying and safe feeling. You were close enough to smell his musky cologne that lingered on his skin. His heartbeat creating a perfect rhythm to lull you to sleep, “Just for tonight.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Next time I’ll make sure we fall asleep with your cunt squeezing my cock,” insufferable asshole. You started to feel something. Not your body, but you. And then he opened his mouth. But at least it meant you weren’t falling. And you wouldn’t. Not with him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting

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dungeonpuppykai · 26 days

Text

| Too Sweet |

Description: You and Steve try to put 'it' in for the first time after his serum procedure.

Pairing: Soft-Dark 40's Post-Serum Steve Rogers | Lover!You.

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Steve, 40's misogyny and courting bc let's be so fr, obsession, daddy kink, allusions to spanking, dumbification, power imbalance, corruption kink, fluffy smut, p-in-v penetration that y'all are STRUGGLING with, dash of breeding kink, they love each other, smut with plot.

Note: @chxrryhansen 's new Too Sweet Steve edit is responsible for this and she doesn't even know it, pfft!

"Steve!" Your protest is half giggle and half whine as you wince before landing a punishing smack to your lover's shoulders. "Ouch!" His body is also vibrating due to the humor that the two of you find in this strange situation.

"Come on, baby" he rasps out against your ear, his elbow that presses into your pillow besides your head causing it to dip towards itself. "I am trying my best here, bear with me a little" try he sure is doing. You can almost feel him fighting against his impulse to just fuck all and push inside your tiny entrance that has never faced a girth this big.

"I knowww~" you whine as you press your knees against his sides that have become wide and muscular since the procedure. "But it's still ouchie" Steve sighs as he freezes the little bit of pushing that he was doing.

You feel bad, you really do.

Because it is as hard for you to hold back as it is for him.

Pressed up against your lover that you haven't properly had like this in a week, your bare skins nearly leeched to each other's, one of his rough manly hands fondling your breasts as the one he's holding up his heavy body with strokes your hair to comfort you, the feeling of his stern muscles digging into the tender insides of your thighs and then his cock that you need to save your life at this point so close to your weeping walls yet so far away that you can lose your mind from the frustration.

But it just hurts so fucking much!

You had always thought your lover's size to be a decent one because it kept you satisfied and very happy.

But now…

This.

You did not want to be an ungrateful brat, as Steve would say, because you weren't a stranger to the valor that he held for his country and you had always done your best to cheer him on so you weren't to be misunderstood.

But good Lord above, they had swapped your cotton candy lover for a rough and tough beast who couldn't bear you being out of his sight for more than a few minutes.

It seemed that whatever voodoo they worked in that fancy machine had also amplified his obsession with you, like everything else.

Steve sighs as he kisses your cheek softly. You understand that he's a man and he has his needs that he has been compromising for a week because you recoil at the sight of his cock each time he tries to seduce you. "I've already stretched you out with three fingers, baby. At this point I might as well put my fist in there" you're on thin ice and you know it.

No man is as considerate as he has been all these days as it is.

Your cheeks burn and you flush hotly in embarrassment, letting out another whine as a result before landing a flustered punch on his arm. "I- It's not my fault if your fist would still be smaller than your dick!" Though your tone is one that has gotten you bent across his lap more times than you can count, the manner in which the indirect praise boosts his ego saves you this one time.

And his fingers weren't the easiest thing in the world either because they've grown three times their size!

"Aw, is Daddy's cock too big for your little baby pussy, honey?" You cannot help but let out a horrified guffaw as you cover your mouth, eyes wide.

"Oh, my GOD, Steve!" He is grinning at how appalled you look because of his obscene words. "Stop with that! I told you the other day that it's not right!" You have no idea how, but two months ago your lover had picked up this strange pet name for himself that he liked to use whenever you two were having an intimate moment.

"Oh, but baby" your back arches in an instant as you grunt and feel your claws fly to his shoulders that they dig into. He has started to push again. But your pussy is nearly as stubborn as he is, it seems. Because neither wants to back down. "Who put it in your pretty little head that you can decide what's right and wrong around here?"

Your thighs tremble at the authority in his tone and you whine, feeling your ass cheeks clench at the way the girth of his tip feels around your sore band of muscles. Fuck, this is like losing your virginity all over again but only worse.

You almost feel mad at yourself.

Because you're so wet and prepared.

Ready.

Just why can't it go where you need it most?!

"N- No…" The smell of his shampoo hits your nose when he dips his head into the crook of your neck to make a new love bite, both to try and distract you as well as mark you as his. "D- Didn't mean that, Shtevie, sowwy~" you mumble meekly and he deeply hums against your skin.

"Good girl" if it weren't for the way in which one of his hands lovingly caress your scalp, you would have teared up due to how small you suddenly feel. "Now shush up for Daddy and let him do this bratty little pussy in" an involuntary gasp leaves you again but you suppress it by kissing his moist temple so he can't hear it and think you are being disrespectful. Your baby pussy has irritated him enough this past whole week already.

"Owiee…" You grunt again as you feel it breach its way into the initial curve as it has been doing for hours now. "S- So big, Daddy" what? No! You're not like your naughty lover! Y- You're just trying to somehow calm him down so you don't get in trouble!

Like you did when you initially did not respond to his unrelenting advances in school and he ended up scoring really low in a test because of that so he dragged you out of drama class to bend you over and teach you a thing or two about manners and how to treat those who are nice to you. Then he made you apologize, kiss his cheek and cook him dinner at your house to make it up to him.

You are glad he did that though, because Steve is your once in a lifetime and there can never be another like him.

He just knows best.

But that doesn't mean you are okay with getting punished just because your pussy is too tiny!

"Good babygirl" your lover grunts against your nipple that his mouth is latched onto now, hips doing their best to not damage you but still weasel his cock past the hard round shaped barricade of your pubic bone. "I know it's scary but you can trust Daddy because he knows that if that pretty little pussy can push out his brats one day, it can surely take this cock too." Steve loves how you shudder under him at the thought but still answer him Yes, Daddy.

Because you are all his to do with whatever he pleases.

That is the reason why he shook hands with HYDRA and wiped out SHIELD the day he was transformed.

Because HYDRA had promised him a comfortable future with you where he would not have to part with you for too long but still provide you the life that you truly deserved as his sweet little girl who loved and accepted him in a state that everyone had treated as a laughing stock.

You were worthy of the world.

And he was determined to give it to you.

I didn't mention the hydra plot twist up there because well, surprise!

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flordeamatista · 7 months

Text

THE DEVIL

pairing: dbf!andy barber x reader

concept: The lure of temptation, seduction, and lust he offered filled your head ecstatically.

word count: 1k

warnings: sex tape + corruption kink + pussy slapping, nicknames: (Angel)

a/n: The devil card depicts intense sexual desire and physical attraction.The Devil is the gateway into the future kinks.

THE WITCHING HOUR ──── KINKTOBER'23

masterlist

The lure of temptation, seduction, and lust he offered filled your head ecstatically.

Your wings were scattered at your feet as you stood rigidly in his home office.

His radiant blue eyes met yours with a languid gaze, making you feel heat prickling beneath your skin. He swept his eyes up and down your body, and his hands slowly moved over your curves. “I wonder if your parents are looking for you,” lifting you onto his lap with one arm while the other braces against your chest.

A hand slapped your pussy as it dug through your naked form, exploring every inch of it.

"The party gets drunk downstairs, but my touch will make your pussy drunk here." When your head fell back against him, his hot breath heated up in your ear. He grinned into your neck while biting your skin. “So desperate to be touched, aren’t you?”

You closed your eyes and wondered if it was all a dream or if reality had tricked you. The Halloween party had already begun earlier that evening, and you’re almost naked on his lap, wearing only your angelic halo.

Your body vibrates in anticipation as you sit on the devil’s lap, with your once pure angel wings lying on the ground.

An inferno looms to consume you whole when the spark within you ignites.

Your heart surrenders to his touch, allowing yourself to be influenced by the promise of pleasure and the unknown.

There is an electrifying quality of being around him, but it is also terrifying; you know it is dangerous territory, but you can’t help feeling drawn in by his dark charisma. His midnight blue eyes promise a night of sensuality and debauchery beyond your wildest dreams.

You’re helpless as he whispers softly and tastefully, and you’re beckoned into the unknown by his sinful dirge.

A tingling sensation runs down your spine when you catch sight of his gaze.

There is something dangerous about your attraction to him, and what will happen if you comply with him?

While you appear angelic, his aura is testing you into darkness.

A knowing smirk curls his lips as he stares at you as if he knows exactly who you are and what you want.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and swiped it until the camera was on.

His right hand was poised over the phone while his left touched your body. He spoke low and velvet-smooth, saying, “I want this recorded proof that even angels can moan for devils.” Taking your lips in a passionate kiss, he traced circles across your skin, generating sweltering heat.

With a smile, he roars like a devouring demon, and his firm contours blend perfectly with my angelic features.

When you both pulled apart, you saw his eyes blazing with desire. With each slap of his palm, a fire ignited within you, threatening to burn out of control.

“Show me how the devil can make pretty angels moan. Aren't you my pretty angel?.”

Deep, slow breaths push warmth into the air.

“You like that, don’t you?” His warm slaps glide across your clitoris, and he holds the phone close to your pussy.

As he taps your clit each time, pain and pleasure wash over you simultaneously. You need his fingers in your clit for him to release the orgasm and touch, so a slap does not suffice.

It feels like he might slip his fingers inside, but he slaps it away, leaving the breeze to cool the air.

In a warm embrace, his finger traces shapes around your pussy. A gentle tickle alternates with a firm slap that makes your hips jerk. Every time you shudder, you are slapped harder.

You muffle a small moan against your palm as your body burns and your eyes tighten.

His dark and menacing voice whispers in your ear. The phone moves closer to your face. You feel your body quiver as he punctuates the words with more intense pussy slaps. “Such a good angel.”

There were no words between you as you walked forward and kissed the fiery.

Every step brought profound relief that swallowed light and sound.

The only force you could understand was a burning desire to be with him, but you could neither understand nor resist it.

There is no escaping the devil when the night is dark and your heart is led by him.

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krirebr · 3 months

Text

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.”

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boxofbonesfic · 29 days

Text

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,776

A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

It’s your wedding day, again.

You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you.

I don’t want to get married.

No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals.

You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you.

You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—

“I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion.

My wife.

MY WIFE.

You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—

God, the party.

Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile.

Tell him. Tell me what he says.

You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand.

“H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!”

No one does.

You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust.

You see… a beach.

An empty beach.

The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—

But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage.

“Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite.

“Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.

“You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.”

“You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head.

“I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.”

“You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line.

“A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring.

“Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”

“So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face.

“We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.”

“I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be.

“You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch.

“Lunch in an hour.”

—

True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.

You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down, methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.

Fuck you.

Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table.

“I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”

“Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs.

“I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened?

“What is this? What is this fucking place?”

The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?”

“A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them

“You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does.

“I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.”

Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now, thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.

“My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”

“How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”

“What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”

“How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace.

“I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.”

You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods.

“Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?”

Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—

Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it.

“I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!”

“I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud.

You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead.

“Leave me alone.”

“Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.”

Good for the baby.

Good for the fucking baby.

You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too.

Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet.

He doesn’t pick it up.

“Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”

Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room.

—

They don’t come back that night.

You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop.

I wonder what Nat’s doing.

I wonder if they’re worried about me.

I wonder what Ransom told them.

You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps?

When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?

You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that—but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure.

It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door.

You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover.

It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you.

The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks.

We made it for you.

Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…

It was more than a little crush.

You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him.

You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open.

For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be.

You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—

Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel.

“Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them.

“Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!”

Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas.

“Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown.

“Please.”

You lay there until the room goes dark.

—

“I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers.

“You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.”

Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep.

“I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.”

“I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I’m sure of it.”

To be continued…

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