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Easy Money (Part 5)

Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Minor character death, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, PTSD flashback, Hostage Situation.

Author's Note(s): In all honesty this was very much rushed through. I’d like to apologize to everyone in the history of ever.

His warm embrace became your second home. Every day he would train you until you’d memorize his schedule by heart.

Robert parks his truck in the warehouse garage. Today he had earned a bonus while on the job. His employer hired him for a cyanide poisoning. His original targets were originally workers of a rival gang. But somehow his package had been sent to their boss. All thanks to an outdated ventilation system, they were trapped in a small enclosed room. Like sitting ducks they waited for death. His employer was thrilled to find out their one and only competitor had been wiped out. Robert was given a generous bonus for a job well done.

He had extra money to spend on himself. Some extra energy to waste on a particular someone. His manhood begins to strain in his pants. He palms it to the thought of his favorite toy.

You could hear faint whistling from the next room. He would be here by now. When the front door unlocks you’re unsure whether or not you should feel relieved or even more scared. All of a sudden a metal door swings open to what had been your prison for the past few weeks. It was Robert, back from a long day of work, “Honey, I’m home!” he hollers while jingling his keys back into his pocket.

You’re on the other side of the door, spread eagle on an old medical recliner. There are marks on your wrists and ankles from the rope digging into your skin. Streaks of dried up tears spread across your cheeks. All you could do was mutter in rambles. A faint, buzzing noise came from the wand set on your mound. It’s batteries were just about to give out.

This was your punishment for attempting to escape earlier. That and your time with Andy had been cut short. Now you weren’t even allowed in the same room together unless accompanied by Robert. He didn’t want you poisoning his son with your lies. There was nothing to fear of, as long as you stayed in your place. Simple instructions and yet here you were, in a situation you’ve created.

You’re practically sobbing when he turns the wand off. Robert rubs soothing stokes against your abused sex, picking up any slickness left from your previous rounds. He sighs soothingly at the sight of your naked form. Drenched from head-to-toe in a sheen of sweat.

When Robert shoves a finger in you don’t fight it. You’ve learned your lesson a long time ago. Fighting him never ended well. Your opening swallows his digit effortlessly. He adds in another slowly working you up. They curl up to brush against your sweet spot. He dares to try for a third appendage, “My, my, what a greedy little hole you have.” your body created enough self lubrication after what he’s already put you through.

Robert hums, “It’s so easy to fuck you like this…” he states, “Maybe I could fit my whole fist in. Wanna find out?” he raises a brow in excitement. You shook your head frantically. He chuckles. But you didn’t think his joke was very funny. He pulls his digits out to rub the wet-coated finger pads against your slit before flipping his hand over. His palm now flush against your bud while his fingers roughly swipe on your inner walls. He touch hard enough to stimulate, but slow enough to not finish you off. 

Robert considers himself a patient man. That is until he saw the desperate look in your eyes. How they grew in panic. He cuts the bindings off. A strong arm pulls you out of your seat. Your weakened body drops to the floor. You fall forward, clinging onto his sturdy legs. You knew what he wanted. Your hands can’t help but tremble while trying to work his fly open. His palm caresses the side of your cheek, “Brings back old memories,” he sighs fondly before sliding his member past your lips.

You gag as soon as you feel his combat boot prying your legs apart. You try closing them but the spreader had made it difficult to do so. There, pulsing in a deep shade of red was your poor, worn out pearl. Robert whistles, “Oh wow. Now that looks painful.” he slides his foot right underneath your dripping slit. He raises his shoe to brush against your mound. He lightly rubs the leather from side to side, indicating what your task would be, “Make yourself come.” he orders.

While bucking your head up and down his girth you rut against his boot. Your wetness made the friction of it all more bearable. You give it to him just how he likes it and soon enough he finishes off deep in the back of your throat. He leaves briefly only to return soon with a bowl of water, washcloth, and a pile of clothes. He places them in front of you.

Robert points a finger in your face then to the bowl, “Clean yourself up.“ he waits until you’re finished to chain your ankles together. A single loose chain connected your legs to avoid any chance of escape. You could only make it so far with short steps. He lets you spend time with Andy. Inside of the warehouse had changed drastically. Each day Robert would bring an item from your apartment to use while in captivity.

But it wasn’t for nothing. There were rules to be followed. Your only order was comply. Following them made life all the more easier. You were rewarded a different freedom with each task done. Robert would listen to every phone call you would make for your work to avoid suspicion from your absence. He’d leave some of his “friends” to run the shop while you weren’t there. That only gave him more control over your life. Robert called the shots around here. He was in charge of what you wore, what you would eat, and what time you’d sleep.

Meanwhile Andy was happy enough bonding with his father. He loved ice cream just as much as he loved spending time with his pop. Robert would return from work with Andy clinging to his side. Your son would go on about his day, “And then we went to the movies and then we went to the park and then we…” he pauses for a moment to catch his breath.

He seemed tired. Did Robert feed him? Anything other than ice cream? Of course not. Someone like him wouldn’t know a damn thing about raising children. You roll your eyes at the thought of him ever managing to fit the suburban dad lifestyle. Just the thought of it seemed absurd.

Robert would make sure to bring in meals regularly. It would always be the same old takeout. While eating dinner Robert drops the big news, “We should start packing.”

“…Why?” you kept your gaze low. Robert glares at you before stabbing a plastic fork into his meal, “Because I’m not raising my kid in a shithole-”

“Please.” you look at him in the eyes, “Could you please watch your language in front of him?”

He raises a brow, the corner of his lips curls up, “Yes ma’am.” he taunts.

When dinner was finished, he hadn’t bothered escorting you to your room. He knew you wouldn’t be foolish enough to endanger your son. While living here with him you spent your time filling out documents entrusting your business would be taken care of under the name Pronge. Robert chose specific people to work in the shop. Like he did with everything else. You slept alone on a pile of blankets, praying for a better tomorrow.

In the morning Robert had packed his van with enough essentials for the move. You sat beside him during the car ride. But he wasn’t a fool. Your wrists were chained together. While rope held your close to your seat. You made sure to pay close attention to Andy in the rear-view mirror. You and him had been playing a game of ‘I spy’ until the car finally stopped.

Robert made sure to play ‘house’ as much as possible while living in the warehouse. You were to take the alias of a dutiful wife and caring mother. He would have the role of the providing father. Little Andy hadn’t known about the game his parents had been playing. He was truly convinced that you both had unconditional love for each other.

Robert parks the van in front of a semi-large home. It was similar to the ones on the magazines he’d provide for you. After a few days you’d realize that he had been bringing over the same items for the magazines to the warehouse. Designer bags, earrings, furniture. At first it seemed strange enough that someone like him would bother. But after everything that’s happened you’ve learned quick to never question anything.

Despite the abandoned building being a bit run down, this place would’ve made a decent home. It was almost nice having a sense of normalcy. You wonder where he would take you to this time. Andy kicks his legs up and down with glee, “You’re gonna like this one mama. Me ‘n daddy picked it out for you!” he claps his hands and giggles in excitement. You sigh in relief. At least you knew now he hadn’t been planning on turning your boy into a mini version of himself.

Robert had been saving up for some time. He made sure to choose a quiet neighborhood. There were plenty of other families to blend in with. As ordinary as it could be. He unbuckles his belt then retrieves a gun from his glove department. Robert holds your chin until you’re face-to-face with him. A finger is in your face. His voice is deep and demanding, “Do not, under any circumstance, cause a scene.” he snarls. You look down and nod. He lets go of your chin to cut the bindings.

When you take the first step out of the van everything had felt surreal. The entire place gave off a cheerful aura. You noticed a woman around the same age as you, waving from next door. When you smile her way, she proceeds to start a conversation out of the blue. The conversation had been short but informative. As much as you enjoyed the company of another adult, you couldn’t help but feel as though Robert wouldn’t approve. All of a sudden, she stops mid conversation, “Oh sweetheart…that’s your husband?” her brows raise as soon as she spots Robert. He steps out of his run-down ice cream truck with a cigarette still in his hand.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face heats up in embarrassment when he drops the bud on the ground and mushes it into the lawn. His hair is in a mess. There are stains on his shirt from god knows where. You look back to find the woman with her mouth agape, she leans in to whisper, “Blink twice if you need someone to save you.” her voice was stern.

You almost hesitate for a moment unsure if she were serious or not. She sharply jabs your side, “I’m kidding by the way! Let us know if you need any help!” she winks before returning to her home. You cringe from what she might’ve thought from that encounter.

You were dolled up from head-to-toe meanwhile Robert decided that wearing the same shirt for an entire week was good enough. If having a slob for a spouse was considered “normal” then you didn’t want any part in it. To think that this was a dream for some. You don’t bother meeting Robert’s gaze. Instead you lift Andy into you arms while bouncing him on your hip.

Your carry your son towards the house. Robert spots the two of you sitting on the front porch. He then eyes the other woman walking back to her home. He notices your discomfort instantly. What had she said to make you so upset? Were you planning something?

Originally posted by evansensations

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.” you roll your eyes, “Are you scared?” you push his buttons to see what his response would be. He leans in close and places a palm against Andy’s back, rubbing small circles against his tiny form, Robert looks you in the eyes, "Are you?" He really had the nerve to involve your son. Robert is caught off guard by you swatting his hand away.

There must’ve been something the other woman must’ve said to make you act up.  Surely his training hadn’t been left in vain. Robert could spot in the corner of his sight a certain nosy neighbor peeping through blinds. He pretends to not notice and stares at the wind chimes instead. Robert opens the front door, expecting you to play along. You walk in first, giving him a glare before heading inside.

Robert closes the trunk of his car before following. You slam the door in his face. Now you were in for it. He makes his way in. From what he’s noticed so far your training had been in vain. He expects you be waiting for him each time he’d arrive. But not even a shadow had been cast.

Robert walks around your new home only to notice there wasn’t a sound. Not a peep. He wouldn’t like it if you tried running off again. Perhaps this time breaking your legs would send a message. He opens each door until he’s reaches the master bedroom. He swings the door open. There you are, curled up on the bed, with your hands in your face sobbing hysterically.

What in the hell was it this time? He hadn’t a clue, and he was starting to get annoyed. This emotional dilemma had to stop. He yanks at your arm with an iron grip, dragging you to your knees. Your head shoots up. He stares down at you with a scowl on his face, “I think you need a reminder of where your place is…” his voice is a deep grumble. Tears begin to welt again. This time from fear. You had really done it now.

Robert let’s go of your arm, leaving an angry bruise behind, “By the time I get back there better be food on that table. I don’t keep you here so you could sit on your ass all day.” he growls. Robert had a chain hook waiting for you in the kitchen. He had one screwed to the floor in each room of the house. As soon as he latches your ankles to the ceramic tiles. He doesn’t care to leave you alone. He had already given you an order, and expects you to carry them out.

He knows within few days before your tantrum would die out, his calculations are never wrong. He pats Andy’s head before leaving for another mission. All the doors of the house are locked from the outside. No way of escaping. Robert’s hands begin to itch while driving. He smokes to get the jitters to stop. Nothing worked. If there was any use that Robert put his pent up anger into, it had to be work. He considers himself a man who takes great care into what he does for a living, and boy is he damn good at it too.

Originally posted by horrorseason

It was late at night, Robert still hadn’t returned. Was this another test? You lift yourself from the cool tile of the kitchen floor. Andy had offered you his blanket but you kindly refused. Poor little angel wanted to keep you company. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. But he was willing to negotiate sleeping on the couch instead. He insisted. You swear that kid would make a damn good lawyer someday. You watch over him as he dozed off. Sleepless nights were a new norm. Your attention had quickly been seized by the door unlocking.

Robert steps inside. He’s covered from head to toe in blood. His face is caked in it. He kicks off his muddied boots before walking over to Andy sleeping. You tug on the chains. Ignoring the pain of the metal digging into your ankles. Robert crouches down to the sleeping child’s level. He looks over his shoulder and smiles, dangling a knife for you to see.

You fall to your knees in a prayer and beg him to stop. He holds the blade in front of his lips and shushes. You quickly silence yourself, dropping your hands to the floor. Robert twirls the knife in his hand before facing Andy. In a swift motion he jabs the knife down. He made you look as he killed your baby. Blood from his small body drips down the couch. A stream of crimson travels down the wooden flooring.

Originally posted by leonseff

The bottom of your dress soaks up in Andy’s blood. You lift your hands up to cover your mouth. Only to realize now the crimson liquid is now smeared across your face.

You scream and scream. Until Robert shakes you awake. He holds the sides of your arms tightly, “Snap out of it!” he orders. You weren’t in the kitchen. Robert must have carried you back to the bedroom after he’d returned. You voice hitches, “W-where is he?”

“Kid’s asleep. Even after all that.” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. You turn to him and whisper, “Can I see him? Please?” you’ve never sounded more vulnerable. He lets out a long sigh before turning on the lamp. He retrieves a pair of boxers from the ground. Robert unhooks the leather binding and switches it with a chain. He leads you to Andy’s room. You held your breath as you twist the door knob open.

A small creak of from the hallway lights shine in. It shines on a familiar face. Andy doesn’t flinch from the gleam. He must’ve been fast asleep by now. You approach his sleeping figure. Careful not to make any noise from the chain dragging behind. You reach for his plump cheek and touch it. He’s warm. When you notice he’s still breathing you let out a sigh of relief. You place a gentle kiss on his temple before following Robert back to bed.

As you laid on your side you couldn’t help but think about your situation. It was hard to sleep under the amount of stress you were in. You felt an arm creep to your side. Robert was in the mood for a midnight snack. He lifts your silk slip on halfway up. He pushes a thick leg in between yours, letting one of yours rest on his thigh. Robert stokes his tip along your folds. He collects what little wetness was there to prep him. He pushes his entire length in without warning. You wince from the intrusion. His thrusts rock your bodies back and forth.

All you could do was stare blankly at the wall ahead, waiting for him to finish off. A few agonizing minutes later his fingers dig into your hips as he pounds his way to climax. He spurts your rear with his arousal. Robert wipes himself off on your skirt. He lies on his back consumed in pure bliss. You pull the strap of your now ruined dress up. Robert’s ragged breaths turn into soft snores. You were very much still awake, wishing now that you never woke up.

Nightmares are a common thing. After all, you live in one.

Easy Money (Part 6)

Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non-con, Kidnapping, Hostage Situation, Domestic abuse.

Author's Note(s): I hate using the word "daddy" with all my heart. So, what better way to express my hatred than to write about it?!

Robert is thriving in a state of blissful marriage. You on the other hand, not so much.

You would wake up, make him breakfast, pack lunch, all while he watched some rented porn. During the climax scenes Robert would pat his lap, signaling for you to get on your knees as he enjoys the rest of his show. After finishing off he usually leaves for ‘work’. He’d only ever let you wear a sundress or an array of slip-on garments. All for easy access. Some of them were slightly used. You never questioned where there came from. Not after noticing bits of blood sprinkled on them. You’d rather not think about it for very long. It made it all the more bearable to wear.

A white-picket fence life was never your thing. Yet here you were, living in the fucked-up version of it.

As Robert began sliding his work shoes on, you wait for him to leave. Only then could you get comfortable. You dare not to look up. In case he catches your gaze. Eye contact always led to him staying longer. You turn around and begin sweeping the living room floor. You stop as soon as you realize he hadn’t moved. Were you forgetting something? You look up. Although his expression hadn’t shown his anger his arms were crossed, “Don’t I get my kiss?” he tilts his head to the side.

Scared of what he might do next, you lean in to kiss his stubble cheek. Before you could retreat from the peck, he quickly turns his head to the side and traps you and a firm kiss. His hands grab at your rear. His long fingers start pulling up your skirt. His digits prod against your opening from behind. You squirm from his unwanted embrace. But seeing you struggle only encourages him to continue. 

You were repulsed from the taste of him. He reeked of cigarettes and musky cologne. Being in his presence alone had irked you, the sooner he’d leave the sooner you’d be left in peace.

Daily chores were all you could do. Your work had been handled by Robert through the phone, he was the sole provider in the house now that you weren’t working. He had stolen the only documents of your company and locked them in his ‘office’.

So, the only option ever given to you was the role of the housewife. Andy would help you with what he could. He was the perfect companion and a very patient child. He’s always eager to please and enjoys doing the dishes with you. A part of you hoped that once he got older, he would accomplish great things. All he’s ever wants to do is help people.

You were vacuuming the bedroom when you hear a crumpling sound. Turning off the machine you take a look at what had been caught. It’s a small book. A journal he kept hiding in plain sight. Part of you hoped it had evidence of his heinous crimes. Each page had a written date, almost like a… journal? No, there were titles for each section of the book.

Training.

Obedience.

Care.

Punishments.

Was this some sort of training book? He made a book dedicated to molding a wife. But why?

The first entry was written around the same time Robert kidnapped you and Andy. After living an entire year with this monster, the contents of what this book had made you downright terrified. He narrates it from his own point of view. How to capture and lure one’s ‘bait’. You couldn’t believe it.

Then it hit you. This wasn’t for Robert’s own enjoyment. It was supposed to be some sort of training manual. Something that he wanted to pass onto your son. He was making sure Andy would one day use this book on some poor woman. A chill ran down your spine. You’ll be damned if he ever taught your son to be a monster. There will never be a cycle for as long as you’re still breathing.

“Mama.” Andy’s voice chirps. He holds a small plastic shovel in his hands. Today you promised him to play outside. You held him close, clutching onto him until he whined from the pressure. You let go of him carefully. As if he were made of glass. You cupped his chubby cheeks, “As soon as he gets home, okay?” never bothering to call Robert ‘dad’ let alone ‘daddy’. Only when he was physically around. There would be hell to pay if you didn’t address him properly.

You and Andy had been out in the sun all day. You held him by his underarms as he leapt over a sprinkler. Of course, you wouldn’t be alone. The ankle monitor you wore had been a courtesy from one of Robert’s clients. He kept his shed door cracked open. Which meant from time-to-time Andy’s attention would go to his father you would try your best to distract him. But after a while he finally spoke up, “How come daddy doesn’t wanna come out?” he points to the shed.

Originally posted by foreverfreo

Robert’s back is faced towards you. Cooped up in his own world. For some reason your angel wanted to be a part of it. Over your dead body, “He’s really busy baby. It’s not good to go in while he’s busy.” you rub his small back. You notice his complexion is redder than before. Sighing at a possible sunburn, the daily struggle of having a child with an Irish father. You went inside to retrieve more sunscreen.

For some reason your Andy was too stubborn to take a hint. Because as soon as you step back out with sunscreen on a tray and drinks Andy decides that he wants to spend time with dad, right in his serial-killer lair. You almost drop the platter on a table as you made a run for the shed. You’ve dreaded for this day to come. How were you going to explain to him that his ‘hero’ killed for people for a living?

You slam the door open, causing Robert tilt his head around. Andy is sat on his lap. Robert isn’t annoyed at all by the soaking-wet child making himself comfortable. You briefly scan the place for anything dangerous or out of the ordinary, then look back at him in confusion. It really was just a normal shed. Having nothing wrong with it is exactly what made it so odd. You approach him warily. He always knew when you were watching. That’s how his little mind games usually start.

His eyes are hooded as he licks his lips. You know realize why. Your summer dress had been drenched from the activity from earlier. The fabric clung to your curves. Your wet hair stuck to your neck. He scoops Andy up in one arm. His gaze doesn’t falter even the slightest. Robert was like a hungry wolf. A beast that was holding your little lamb hostage. You cross your arms to hide what little decency you had. He gives a crooked grin, “Hey sport, why don’t you let me and mom chat for a bit, hm?” he places him on the ground before shooing him off.

Andy nods, “Okay daddy.” he stands on his toes to give his father a quick hug before leaving. Your poor boy had no idea what went on when his parents were ‘chatting’. You wait until your son makes it past the door, closing it behind him. You pay attention to the noise outside for a moment. Soon the sounds of his small steps are quiet. You let out a relieved sigh then turn around.

You’re face-to-face with him. He glances at your chest “Drop ‘em.” his voice is stern. Slowly, you pull your arms away. Revealing your now see-through dress, nipples already hardening from the friction. Your shoulders sink in an attempt to hide the peaks.

A large hand of his reaches to pat your temple, brushing back the hair from your face. It glides to the back of your neck where goosebumps develop. Robert darts his tongue out to swipe at his pout, “Is my kitten cold?” he always had a playful way with his words. You nod. His hand on the back of your neck pulls you into a kiss. His tongue poke against your bottom lip, motioning for access. You part your mouth open. He wastes no time delving in.

Every part of it was an act of possessiveness. Both of his hands now cup the round of your backside to rake up your skirt. With a yank the wet fabric was off of your damp skin. Robert had bunched it up your waist. He lifts you off the ground and you automatically wrap your legs around him. The kissing doesn’t break until you reach his desk. He plops you down. His head tilts to the side of yours where he starts to nip at the exposed skin.

His mouth drags from your jaw to your neck, to in between your breasts, until he bends down to your skirt. He lifts the damp fabric. You instantly part your legs for him. He hums in approval before giving a long, wet kiss against your folds. His lips wrap around your crease as his nose brushed against your bundle of nerves. He knows you love that.

It was different this time around. You could actually see him in action. You never took notice to how his long his lashes were. How prominent his features are underneath all that facial hair. How some freckles were developing from staying outside too long. Your mind went to putty when he got started. You hiss when he licks a long, hard stripe against your bud. You can’t help but lift your hips up for a better angle. His open mouth welcomes it. He pokes his tongue in and out of your opening. Practically moaning into your mound.

Your dripping folds with a mixture of his spit creates lewd squelching sounds each time his tongue muscle would plunge itself in and out. Your eyes grow wide from the sight. Your legs begin to quake. A tap to his shoulder lets him know that you were almost there. He yanks his pants down while standing back up. He practically lunges towards you.

Robert pulls your hips against the end of the desk. He prods against your slick opening before entering in one hard thrust, causing the entire desk to shake. Your nails dig into the fabric of his white tank. The bastard didn’t wait for you to adjust. That must’ve been the reason why he went downtown prior.

He pulls out before shoving his entire length in again. His strength alone sends you back against the desk. He crouches against your frame. You wrap your arms around his waist. Your hands slide under his shirt. Your nails dig into his pale skin in retaliation. Leaving angry red scratches. He hisses from the sensation, letting out a deep, guttural groan. He loves a kitten with claws.

He drags his length out until only his tip remained inside then slams it back in again. Just to hear you howl. Never once leaving you empty. He pulls your hand against his mouth before sucking on your digits, signaling you to touch yourself. You now wet pads reach for the hood of your clit. Massaging it in small, frantic circles.

Robert grunts, “Does it feel good baby?” he waits for a reply. You nod at him frantically. Robert isn’t satisfied. He slaps away your wrist away from your bud, “I said does it feel good?!” his voice is deeper, more demanding. Robert stops thrusting all together, waiting for an answer.

Your thoughts were cloudy as you frantically search for the right words, “Y-yes..” you whine from a cock-drunken haze. He slaps against your bundle of nerves, “Who makes you feel this way? Hm?!” his hand strikes your sensitive hood again, denying you the pleasure of finishing off. You gave in, as always, “You do! P-please!”

“Please what baby?” he wanted to hear the title he’d given himself. Hear you call him that special word. A name you absolutely hated to call him.

“P-please daddy make me feel good!”

Like music to his ears.

“Now, what do you say?”

“T-thank you,”

“For what?” his hand wraps around your throat. You’re a mumbling mess. His entire body weight is flush against yours as he pistons his hips. At this point, the pressure might as well break the legs off the table.

“Thank you for fucking me how I like it…aAh!” you grunt from the sensitivity. Tears trickle down your cheeks.

Robert’s thrusting is harder than ever. Skin slapping against each other could be heard only the slightest from outside. Your walls pump his seed out. His forehead is pressed against yours. You don’t bother getting up. Still winded from the aftermath. The bottom of your dress is still hiked over your waist. Your now filled cunt hangs off the end of his desk. Your breasts glisten with sweat.

All over your chest were small bruises left behind. You pry yourself up with an elbow. You reach down to cover yourself. Robert chimes in, “Wait. Don’t move.” he fumbles around, looking for something. He turns to you with a Polaroid camera in his hands. He holds it to his eye, leaning in to get a good angle, “Smile.”

You’re not amused. He could care less if you did it or not. Actually, having you pout would be cuter. He snaps a photo, and the flash goes off. He gives the fresh photo a shake. He raises a brow and whistles, “My, my, what a slutty little wife I have…” Robert pockets the photo as he lifts you from the table. Your legs are a bit shaken after wearing them out. Like a newborn fawn trying to take it’s first steps. It was hard walking while your thighs are clenched together. Harder than it looks.

You grip his arm tight. He enjoys the sight of you squirming because of him. A swell of pride strains his pants. He’s right behind you. Stalking close by. He presses his arousal against your backside. His hands are at your hips to hold you in place. He grinds his erection hard enough for you to feel it. His voice is a whisper, “Here. Let me.” he reaches for your skirt. A knee parts your legs while his palm presses in between. On hand holds your folds open with his fingers while to other is cupped underneath, catching the spunk dripping out. You grunt as more escapes for Robert to collect.

He holds it to your face for you to see. You can only think of one thing: Shame.

That’s when you hear the door knock, “Mama?” Andy politely calls. You were grateful to teach him that at an early age. After a while of not hearing anything, he opens the door. You shove yourself from Robert’s grip. Almost falling to the floor in the process. You slide up the straps of your dress before the door completely opens. A curious little Andy misses his mommy and daddy.

You usher Andy to go out, promising him you’ll be out in a minute. You turn around to glare daggers at Robert, “Could you please not do that? Or at least hold back while Andy is around.” you scoff before leaving. Robert clicks his tongue.

Little did you know it was Robert who invited him in.

Hidden Treasure Masterlist:

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

Part 1 - Seeking Shelter - 🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703992502564405249/hidden-treasure-part-1?source=share

Part 2 - The Arrangement - ❌ https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703992629016346624/hidden-treasure-part-2?source=share

Part 3 - Dearly Beloved - 🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703993189958369280/hidden-treasure-part-3?source=share

Part 4 - Consummation - 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704000784183984128/hidden-treasure-part-4?source=share

Part 5 - Jealousy - 🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704001527627628544/hidden-treasure-part-5?source=share

Part 6 - Punishment - 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704009614548697088/hidden-treasure-part-6?source=share

Part 7 - Possession - 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704010151457325056/hidden-treasure-part-7?source=share

Part 8 - A New Friend - 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704010655292899328/hidden-treasure-part-8?source=share

Part 9 - A Funeral - 🔞 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704013534572478464/hidden-treasure-part-9?source=share

Part 10 - Runaway - 🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704013905688674304/hidden-treasure-part-10?source=share

Part 11 - Crashing Down - 🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704014073024610304/hidden-treasure-part-11?source=share

Part 12 - Hidden Treasure -❌❤️ https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704019532282527744/hidden-treasure-part-12?source=share

Deceitfuldevout's Marvel Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-Shots:

An Eye for an Eye - Dark!Helmut Zemo x Sheild!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704581646926626816/an-eye-for-an-eye?source=share

Sold - Dark!Suagrdaddy!Baron Zemo x SugarBaby!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704641875247874048/sold?source=share

Trust - Dark!Stucky x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649373631528960/trust?source=share

Red Daughter - Dark!Steve Rogers x ExHydra!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649377217724416/red-daughter?source=share

Sleeping Beauty - Dark!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649380328882176/sleeping-beauty?source=share

The Passenger - Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704662523144765440/the-passenger?source=share

Smile - Dark!MidnightSons x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/716976143318876160/smile?source=share

Ruining America's Sweetheart - Dark!Steve Rogers x Sidekick!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/726011254129524736/americas-sweetheart?source=share

Series:

Brooklyn Baby - Dark!Billy Russo x Rawlins!Reader: 🔞❤️🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/728281624940331008/brooklyn-baby-masterlist?source=share

Deceitfuldevout's The Iceman Masterlist

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

Series:

Easy Money - Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/708439020662882304/deceitfuldevouts-easy-money-masterlist?source=share

'Easy Money' Masterlist:

Dark!Robert Pronge x Heiress!Reader

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

Part 1 - Easy Money: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706183176153923584/easy-money-part-1?source=share

Part 2 - Breaking and Entering: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706183378711511040/easy-money-part-2?source=share

Part 3 - Money Maker: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706295047580270592/easy-money-part-3?source=share

Part 4 - A Reunion: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706295259765850112/easy-money-part-4?source=share

Part 5 - Your Worst Nightmare: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706379812461281280/easy-money-part-5?source=share

Part 6 - A Barbed-Wired Picket fence: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/706379816368226304/easy-money-part-6?source=share

Pity Party

Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Runaway!Reader

Word Count: +2,232

Warning(s): +18, Non Con, Mentions of emotional neglect, Stalking, Kidnapping, Reader is sheltered and has no survival skills, Lloyd being a total creep. Also corny alerrrt.

Author's Note(s): Inspired by yet another Melanie song and idc. Didn't spell check and still don't care! Not a Lloyd fan just bored and started writing.

You were sick of having to take orders from your parents. Sick of trying so hard to be the perfect child. Attending every dance recital, achieving perfect scores, getting into a great college. Only for them to disregard the one day you ask from them. It's one thing for your parents to forget a tournament or anniversary, it's another when it's your birthday.

You cried all morning, locked up in your bedroom. As you lit the candles you thought, did they even care? Hell, did they even bother to see if you were alive?! And no, this wasn't just a small thing. It was the only thing you asked for this year. No presents, no extravagant party, just for them to show up. But when your father cancels last minute for another 'emergency' meeting, it broke your heart. They would never learn. You blew out the candles, wishing to never see them again.

Sometimes you were positive they were purposely going out of their way to avoid you. That's why you've saved them the trouble of doing so, packing only a backpack before sneaking out. You'll save them the trouble of dealing with your existence. That's how you landed at a park all the way across town. Seated on a swing set as you cried to yourself. A forever nomad in your own world, with parents who never understood you.

You check your phone, It was only a few minutes this cursed day was over. Since the day you were born your parents had decided everything for you. Everything from the day you were born had been planned out. From the start to the finish. You could predict exactly how each day went by in your sheltered little life. But tonight would be worse than you could ever imagine. He'll make sure of it.

Stalking you in the dead of night was a lone wolf. Lloyd made sure to hide in the shadows whilst keeping a close eye on the unsuspecting woman. He takes a dab of his pen. Breathing as much of the concentrated water before showtime. He tosses it to the ground, still keeping his eyes on the target. Now what's a girl like you doing out here?

In his eyes, You weren't a grown woman with her own independent thoughts. But a stupid, stupid girl who didn't know any better. He'd set you straight. It'd take some time but you'll learn fast. Shit..what time was it? 11? 12? He checks his watch. About ten til midnight.

He notices a heavy look of sleep had crept on your face. You fight against the urge to yawn. He'll fix that. A pretty little thing like you should have a fixed curfew. Can't let any of the bad men find you. God, forbid you found anyone else like him. He grins from ear to ear. Already imagining you all tied up and stuffed in his trunk. His favorite role play.

What you wore made him audibly groan. He could see the top of your blouse unbuttoned. You wore a loose-fitted summer outfit. One that amplified your figure. He takes note of how your knees press together. Stern on remaining shut. It was a telltale sign of innocence. You must've been raised a lady. Were you a virgin? He sure hopes so. He's never had one before and part of him hopes to soon.

The streetlight reflects off of you in an angelic way. Why the hell were you doing here at this time? More specifically, what the hell were you doing on this side of the city? You hung your head, letting out faint sobs. He sees a backpack and puts two-and-two together. Poor thing must've run away from home. But don't worry, he'll take you in. He'll take you over and over again.

Who knows when another opportunity like this may happen? He had this primal urge to do one thing and one thing only: Hunt. He's a natural-born predator. Trained in the art of stalking prey. You've given him no choice. Teasing him at this late hour. He needs to act on his needs first before anything else. You'll understand soon enough.

"Hey Sunshine." There he was, your very own boogeyman. He starts off with his soft voice, almost sounding concerned, "Are you lost?" the voice is coming from in front of you. Looking up to see the stranger. A man, seemingly in his thirties, dressed in business casual attire, "You waiting on somebody?" he leans in, almost a little too close for comfort. How the did he manage to get so close without making any noise?

"N-no sir." You lean back. Something about him hadn't felt right. In fact, nothing about him felt right. He reeks of danger. He smiles at your response, as if you had given him the right answer, "Good. Then no one will come looking." stepping forward.

"Wait! Wait my parents! They're waiting for me!"

"I thought you said you didn't have any family." his voice sounded more like an accusation. You clutch the chains of the swing, "I...I--"

"I-I-I is not a good answer." he pokes fun at your stutter.

Your eyes grew at the man's response. You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights as your feet now touch the ground. You're off in a split second, making a dash for the street. You felt a strong pair of arms push you from behind, causing you to fall to the ground. You scramble to sit up, turning around to see the perpetrator.

There he stood close to the shadows. Basking in it's embrace as he gazes down at you. He smiles, his eyes squinting slightly. Everything about it seemed nerve wrecking. Although you grew up sheltered. It's didn't take a genius to know danger was--is here. You look up at him with beady eyes and trembling lips.

He notices your eyes starting to water. Oh...you poor thing. He can't help but chuckle at your reaction. Of course, you wouldn't know what to do. You weren't prepared to ever receive this sort of treatment. But today's your lucky day. As you begin to crawl back he takes a step forward. He crouches down to grip an ankle, yanking you across the ground. You wince from the friction, skin now burning.

You flip over to crawl away. That's when he pounces. His body now flush against yours. He coos in your ear, "Now where do you think you're going hm?" his voice raspy with lust. His body now pinning yours to the ground. With one hand around your neck and the other lifting up your skirt. Your fingers dug into the dirt, trying to drag yourself away from the perpetrator. He caught both your hands together and pins them. Hearing his belt unbuckling causes ice to run through your veins.

Lloyd secures both yours wrists in a firm grip while fastening them in place. He huffs, "There." panting from the struggle. His hair now a mess. Fixing it can wait. Right now he wants to enjoy his prize. He reaches underneath your skirt, securing his hands around the waistband before pulling down. He groans in disbelief. Never had you felt so weak. This was it, the day you've dreaded since you were a little girl.

Never had Lloyd seen such a pretty pussy. All for him. He sloppily tongues at your folds, dragging his pink muscle along your hole, brushing against the bud a few times before returning to the crease. He collects a thick wad of spit before hacking it on your cunt. Your thighs shook from the sensation. Heat suddenly began to pool at your core. What was he doing?? What in the world was that!?

Moments later you feel a whole new sensation. Something much bigger. No..no! Your eyes began to bulge as he starts to push. This man was going to kill you. If he keeps going he'll rip you in half!

"N-no! nononononononono! W-wait! Please!"

You let out a panicked cry. There was no way that could--would fit. For a moment you couldn't hear or feel anything. Hell, you couldn't even think of anything other than what was about to happen. This man was going to take what he wanted and there is nothing you can do to stop him. You should've never ran away from home.

You felt a deep pit in your stomach. That's when he began to push in. It all happened so fast yet felt like an eternity at the same time.

He began to grind his hips in a rhythem that matched his preference. But there was something about your snatch that has him absolutely whipped. His fingers dip into the flesh of your hips. He starts to pick up pace, plowing in and out your abused channel. Cursing to himself to keep going, almost caving into the warm embrace., "Fuck!" he groans. You felt amazing. He was thankful for how responsive you were.

His rough hands grip your neck, securing you in place as he thrusts deeper in. He strikes your breasts a few times before continuing onto your mound. His fingers spread your folds to tug at your poor bud. Causing a high-pitched squeal to escape your lips. For a moment you felt light headed, spots began to blur in the corner of your vision. This is how your fate would end. There would be no knight in shining armor in this story. He never considered himself to be prince charming. Then another wave of pleasure hits you. Causing all air to escape your lungs.

Your pussy milked him dry. He could physically feel his balls draining each time you'd orgasm. Lloyd wanted more. He needs more. He lifts you up and into his lap, thrusting his thick cock into your leaking channel, “C’mon now princess…open up for me.” he juts his hips up, “Ride me. I said RIDE!” his hand swats at your rear. Causing you to recoil from it. No matter how much you squirmed, you couldn't release yourself from his iron grip.

With his stamina It wasn't going to end anytime soon. You might as well comply, carefully lifting your hips up and down with the little energy you had left. He hums from the sensation, "Hmm that's right. Don't fight it." he licks his fingers, rubbing at your poor bud just to feel you cream. He swings his head back, holding back his groan, "Oh fuck!" his face now a vibrant flush. His voice is raspy, "You were stupid enough to run away. Even more for choosing this side of the city."

"P-please let me go-"

"Shut up." he grips your jaw, growling, "Shut the fuck up or I'll take your ass next." he can feel you tightening around him, "Yeah...yeah take it just like that. Like a fuckin whore."

"M-m'notawhore..." you whine. He yanks back your hair, eliciting a cry from your lips, "Ow! Ow! Please stop!" you sob. He growls in your ear, "You're a whore if I say you are. You speak when I tell you to, and when I tell you to jump all I wanna hear is 'how high'. If you say anything else I'll kill you right now." he sneers, gripping the sides of your face until it hurt. You whine from the pressure, letting out a deep sob.

Lloyd shoves you to the grown before thrusting back in. He absolutely indulged in that glassy look in your eyes. A light of hope dying inside. Your arms flail to cover your intimacy. You squirm from underneath him.

At that moment, he hadn't even realized it began raining. Soon enough the water began to flood the park. And this...this monster. This beast decided it would be him to take you. Whether or not you'd be compliant didn't matter. He ruts into you like the behemoth that he was. Thick wads of his spunk leak from your sore channel. You softly cried as you collapsed to the ground. Finally giving out.

He catches his breath. His nose brushes against the back of your neck, licking a stripe against the exposed skin. Salty yet at the same time sweet. He thought for a moment you would've died. You sure sounded like it. The flailing and squirming around with your little tantrum. What felt like forever only took several minutes. Seven minutes of your life you can never take back.

Lloyd looks at his wrist watch. About a minute til midnight. Right on time. He had to wrap this up anyways, can't have your parents waiting. See, he would've brought you home, all you had to do was comply. Lloyd was hired by your old man to track you down. His little lesson may have gone a bit overboard. But how would you ever know if not the hard way. His way.

"Please just...bring my baby home!"

That was the last thing your mother said to Lloyd before he left in search of you.

Whatever your parents didn't know, couldn't hurt them. Shit...he'd have to come up with one hell of a story. A decoy body maybe. Sure, you'd hate him at first. Maybe even forever. He couldn't care less. Don't you see? This was for your own good. Sluts like you had to learn somehow. He takes a drag from his pen, knowing full well he wanted a cigarette so fucking bad.

He chuckles at how easy it was to break you. Not so strong and independent now are we? It took your parents 20+ years to make the perfect girl. Their protégée child, It only took Lloyd several minutes to break you.

He surprised even himself for what had happened. You're supposed to be his mission, and he never fails a mission. His record had been spiff-clean since becoming a private contractor. He chuckles, as if it would change anything. His reputation was nothing less than impressive, a little hiccup wouldn't ruin him if he covers his tracks.

He lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal style into his car. Carefully securing you in the back seat. It was easy with you already out. He sprawls you across the backseat since the doors only open from the outside. He sits in the driver's seat and starts the car.

Lloyd finger combs his wet hair back, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. He takes note of your shivering. Groaning with annoyance as he turns on the heat. He knows he's not pussy whipped. He just likes toying with you that's all, right?

Fuck it. He's going to keep you. He deserves something special this year. After all it was his birthday.

Haunting You

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Housekeeper!Reader

Word Count: +1,574

Warning(s): +18, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, Forced pregnancy. Ward is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I got this idea after listening to Beyonce's haunting music video.

You've been best friends with Sarah since childhood. When your parents decide to move away, she insisted you live with her family to attend the same college. With their blessing, you find yourself living with the family as a personal housekeeper. It's a reliable source of income that's kept you busy.

As soon as school was out, you decide to pick up another job at a local diner. You were given a key to their home due to you working late shifts. Ward insisted it was too dangerous, he assigns Rafe as your personal driver. But when you go missing one night, the entire town has their eyes set on the Cameron family.

A search party is held the next morning and following nights after. Rafe is the only one who doesn't attend. Only returning after spending the weekend probably partying. Ward scolds his son for being so careless, but Rafe didn't seem to care. No matter what he does, his father always seems to find another flaw in him. He shows more affection towards his daughter's best friend than his own flesh and blood. He'll be damned if he's second best to some Pogue.

It's been months since your disappearance. So when the police inform the Camerons that your investigation had been labeled a cold case, Ward had to be the one to break the news. After the last and final search party, Ward consoles his daughters. Rafe on the other hand, was nowhere to be found.

Typical, unreliable Rafe. In fact, none of it even bothered him. Someone who he's been responsible for the past year suddenly goes missing and there isn't even the slightest bit of concern. Nothing. If it weren't for Topper's party, he would've been a prime suspect. Ward knew of your friendship with Sarah, that’s why he agreed to hire you in the first place. You were a good kid. Until the day his son informs him that you ran off with some merchandise. Ward ignored all of Sarah's pleas and files a police report, from then on the rest was history.

Ward had kept himself cooped up in his office. Tonight had been a thunderstorm warning he could hear the heavy rain pattering against the windows. He listens to the strong, sharp wind. It resembles a faint cry, no...plea. It sounded almost like you. Like he could hear your cries from down the halls. As if you were still here. Calling, pleading for help. This wouldn't be the first time he's felt a presence in their house. He swore he heard it first coming from the vents. Surely it would go away the next morning. An hour had passed and it was still there.

A faint, ghost-like howling. Ward knows he isn't alone. Wheezie was out for a slumber party, and Sarah was at a friend's place. He could've sworn he saw Rafe stepping foot inside right before the storm hit. But nowadays it was hard to tell. His son barely set foot inside the house. Not unless he was rummaging for supplies or extra cash. To the point where even his father grew suspicious of his activities. He wasn't on Pogue territory, and none of his Kook friends had seen him recently. His jeep was still parked out front, so where the hell was he?

Ward searches for his son upstairs. He makes his way inside Rafe's room. His son wasn't there, the only clue being left is his phone tossed aside on the bed. Knowing Rafe, he'd never step outside the house without it. This time there's another shrill cry, more audible is heard coming from behind Rafe's bed. It sends shivers down his spine. Ward pulls it back, revealing the vent connected to it. He knows where it leads to.

See, the Cameron estate held a few secret rooms. One of them had been in his office. Another in the library, and the last room being an underground storage unit, built years ago by the first owners. He makes his way to the basement, where the entrance to the bunker was. To his surprise, there was a faint light at the end of the staircase. Finally, the voice halts. Whoever this intruder was, they're certainly not welcomed to squat in his house.

Ward picks up a lamp left at the end of the stairs. He follows the faint noise until he reaches the source. For a moment, they sound like Sarah's until he listens more closely, no, he was sure they were yours. But how? You'd been missing for months. He shines the light at the silhouette. His burning question finally being answered. That night their family joined your search party, everyone had been there. All except one.

Ward knew he should've spotted the signs. He knew something wasn’t right when his son of all people suggested that you, his old classmate, work with them. It wasn’t like his son to help hire employees. Let alone a housekeeper. He should've kept more distance between the two of you. That night, Rafe was supposed to pick you upand he did. The housekeepers who had left for the night. So there was no one who saw him dragging you down the basement stairs. During all these months he'd been cooped up down here. All this time, Rafe knew.

Ward didn't want to admit it. If he could just sweep this whole incident under the rug, then maybe it would fade within time. But there you were, sobbing, rocking yourself back and fourth. He notices you were holding something. A bundled blanket. It starts moving. That's when he realizes there was no turning back from the damage Rafe had done.

A small fist raises in the air as the babe cried out for its mother. You were nearly drained, your face losing color as each minute passes. Drenched in sweat and still sore from the after birth. There was no time to spare. Ward had to think, and he had to think fast. Out of all the things Rafe could get himself in, why? Why did he bother someone like you of all people?

You were a good kid. You made everything around you better, and in a way, more complete. Ward noticed the way his son used to look at you. He should've stopped this sick obsession before it could take root. Never in his life would he predict such an outcome. You look up at him with pleading eyes, “P-please…please help us!” A small cry came from the covers. At that moment Ward realizes his son had gotten himself into something he couldn’t reverse.

What you had suffered was unfortunate, but he couldn’t risk losing everything he’d worked hard for. "P-please Mr. Cameron h-help me you have to hurry before he comes...!"

He throws on an act, "Honey, who?" Approaching you with fake concern.

"I'm so sorry I should've stayed far away--I should've never gone in his room if I knew he would--" you can't help but get choked up. Ward gently held your shoulders as he pulls you in for a hug. After a moment you gather enough courage to look him in the eyes, "It was Rafe. All along it was him!"

Ward felt horrible for what he was about to do, "Oh sweetheart..." he picks up the lantern and takes a step back, "I can't risk losing my family because of one mistake,"

That's when your entire world came crashing down. As if your heart had broken into a million pieces. This was the man who had watched you grow up with his children. Who you thought embraced you as one of his own. He sighs, "It's a small sacrifice to protect my family, I hope you'll understand now that you have one of your own," He makes his way up the stairs, ignoring the echoes that bounce off the walls as you plead, scream for mercy.

You let out a final shrill cry, "I hope this follows you for the rest of your life! Like a curse, I hope this haunts you for the rest of your life!" It was the last thing Ward hears from you before leaving. He meets Rafe at the entrance. His son drops the medical supplies in hand. He had had been sporting a fresh bruise on his face. One of the many you'd given him during these past months. Even now at your at your most vulnerable form.

Rafe had the audacity to look at him as if he'd just killed someone. Ward sighs, "Care to explain?" giving his son a moment to find the right words. Rafe isn't phased, not even in the slightest. He's not upset that he'd got caught. He's more nervous that his father found out about a the kid he had behind his back.

Rafe looks his father dead in the eyes, "I love her," smiling at his proclamation of 'love'. it was at that moment when Ward felt pity for his son. He should've known better when Rafe decided to go under the radar. Nothing good ever came from it.

As mad as he was, Ward couldn't blame the child born from such circumstances. So, the Cameron men decide to hatch a plan. Later that summer, the Camerons decide to hold a grand solstice celebration at their manor, inviting almost every single Kook in the area.

They decide to hold the event at their house. It was a coverup plan. An excuse to show off their newest renovations, which indirectly helped cover their tracks. A perfect distraction for the Cameron ladies of the house. Ward let them redecorate the inside in preparation for the party. It gave Ward and Rafe time to rearrange the old vents away from the noisy basement. All while Rose and the girls were kept busy with the décor.

During the event, Rafe took his time introducing his son to each and every last member of Kook society. The whereabouts of his mother seemingly out of the picture, abandoning her own child and leaving Rafe a single father. They took pity on him and the situation he'd been forced in. Rumors spreading that he'd been seduced by some lowly Pogue. He decides to step up into the role and embrace fatherhood, playing hero for safe face. Of course the Kooks ate his story up. Who doesn't love a happy ending?

Ward sees his son selling the story and can't help but feel much more relieved. Way more than he had been in months. But just to be sure, he kneels down to the nearest vent and places his ear against it, nothing. He hums a tune before downing his champagne. There would be no more 'hauntings' coming from the Cameron house.

Deceitfuldevout's Outer Banks Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-shots:

Haunting you - Dark!Rafe Cameron x Housekeeper!Reader: 🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/724231421939548160/haunting-you?source=share

Country Club Films - Dark!Camstar!Rafe Cameron x Reader x Dark!Pimp!Barry: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/740607355743535104/country-club-films-darkrafe-x-reader-x?source=share

Play Me a Tragedy

Dark!Ivar x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +2416

Warning(s): +18, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, Raiding, Forced pregnancy.

Author's Note(s): Y'all should know by now I'm all for the dramatics.

You and your husband, King Ivar, have been invited to a play. Accompanied by your children to celebrate your wedding anniversary. Filled with entertainment, games, and a feast. But it wasn't just any day, no. This was the day your entire world fell apart. When you were taken from your home, and everyone you loved. All to celebrate what was you considered to be the worst day of your life.

There had been stories told throughout the feast. Every last one of them stroked your husband's never-ending ego. Within only a few years, Ivar had gained a large mass of devoted followers who were willing to die for him and his cause. With that kind of power given to a mad man such as himself, of course it would go to his head.

Ivar convinced the people of Kattegat of his new world order. That if they follow him and him only would they achieve Valhalla. It was more a cult if anything. He made his people believe that you were his very own 'deity'. He claimed that you were made especially for him by the gods. That the two of you were destined for one another, as a way for Ivar to justify his actions. Even after being given the title of 'Queen', you had no say in politics. You were a glorified broodmare. There wasn't a single day that passed where Ivar wouldn't claim ownership over you. He would dress you himself in the finest silks and jewels during the day. By nigh. he would ravage you until the morning.

After the birth of your first child, you had finally broken. Willingly following his orders, knowing that there would be no one else to protect you and your child. Ivar was glad to claim you were finally his. Body and soul. Now proven with his cub. He would remind you everyday to be grateful that it was him who found you first. In his own words, "Who knows how it would end with any other man, this is what's best for you.", That you should be thanking him. Deep down you knew if it were another warrior, they'd tear you apart. After all, it was your husband's status that gave you access to such a luxurious life. A gilded cage fit for a queen.

Today he was obnoxiously louder than usual. His voice booms throughout the dining hall. The entertainers had saved the best story for last. 'A Tale of a Fallen Kingdom.' they called it. There were actors in costume to represent Ivar and his warriors. It only took a moment to realize which day they were reenacting.

The narrator clears his voice before beginning, "Five years ago, to this day..." he states, "King Ivar and his men visit a Kingdom, untouched by war and plague." it was then when the crowd decided to spew their distaste towards your people. Spewing insults and curses at your country's flag. Your brows furrow as your eyes widen. Had that much time really pass? Surely it hadn't been that long...it felt as though you'd been 'married' for almost a decade. But then again only a year with Ivar felt like forever.

It was almost unreal how accurate their clothes were. It had been a while since you'd seen someone dressed in your people's clothes. From the stage setup, to the costume design. It was like a memory had been extracted and put on display. You tear up at the sight of it. Truly missing your home more than ever. Part of you wasn't sure your family were still alive. There was a young maiden dressed in modest clothing. Not just any garb no, it was specifically designed for a lady in waiting. A title you were given from being the general's daughter. There your character stood, following the other meek women of the royal court.

You were portrayed as a ditzy, clumsy little thing. Who couldn't fend to save her life. Scoffing at the display, you turn to face Ivar who had found it all amusing. You roll your eyes. Did he truly find this mockery entertaining? It was obviously a political tool. Then your mind began racing. Was this truly how the people of Kattegat view you? That you were willing to betray your own people so easily. All to become Ivar's own personal whore. Your blood began to boil. This wasn't a love story but a tragedy. The young man dressed as Ivar lets out a triumphant laugh. Your counterpart had depicted you as an absolute moron, who craved the attention of a man that would give a second glance.

You scoff at the display. Out of all your ladies in court, you were the most educated. That's how you captured Ivar's interest. He had been fascinated by your intelligence. It was rare for women in your kingdom to seek an education, let alone willingly. Your parents supported you furthering your studies alongside the men. No one would question their general's only child.

Ivar used to sneak in a few pieces of literature for you to read. The next time he summoned you was for a game of chess. To his surprise you'd beaten him, his entire demeanor had shifted. He partially blames himself for underestimating a woman of these lands. But then again, not many were educated here. It was at the moment where his final decision was made, he had to have you.

Soon enough the audience follows with boisterous laughs. 'Ivar' releases his crutches before making an exaggerated dive for the woman. She squeals, "No no~you handsome heathen!" squealing as the man began to 'ravage' her. You felt a deep pit of despair, falling ill at the sight of their performance. Ivar on the other hand, was ecstatic. He indulged in the portrayal of himself, covering the growing smirk behind his cup. As the narrator continues, "How will the poor maiden survive such a world?" announcing it to the crowd.

It was then when the women clings onto 'Ivar' as if her life depended on it, "Please! King Ivar! Take me! Take me away from this boring life! Make a woman of me!" the woman boasts as she rips her blouse open, "I'm yours!" She lifts her skirts in a seductive manner. You felt sick to your stomach. This is not what happened, not at all. You had a life, a family that you were taken from.

You remember clawing at his face, hard enough to break skin. Ivar hisses from the sting. He lifts your shoulders and slams you against the ground. You felt dizzy from the impact. Air escaping your lungs as you cough to catch breath. Your vision blurs for a moment before realizing he'd already ripped through your blouse. He skillfully cuts through the garment, lifting your skirts to make way.

You despised Ivar's efforts at keeping a heroic image in public. Angry tears fell down your face. Because you, of all people, knew the truth. You have scars to bear with. From the leather bindings that burned into your wrists during that cursed wedding night, to the following months after. How he'd bound you to bed like an animal, until he was sure you were with child.

Ivar chuckles at your eldest son's discomfort. Seeing his parents being depicted as very passionate lovers. He rubs his head, "Someday you will also become a man." causing the four year old to gag. Ivar doesn't wince when your second born sits on his lap. She adores her father. Of course it was easy being the apple of his eye, and at times, she uses it to her advantage.

Every time you'd scold her, she'd run into her father's arms. You on the other hand despised his efforts at keeping a heroic image. When it was clear as day he was not to be trusted. The same hands that held your daughter close, were used to slaughter hundreds.

Seeing such a mockery being displayed to your children made your heart shatter. Tears began to trickle as you sob in silence. Your daughter notices and leaves her father to comfort you. Ivar is too absorbed into the play to pay attention. He lets out a boastful laugh, clutching his sides as the crowd roaring continues. It was during the king's coronation when the Northmen attacked.

Ivar and his men raided the other surrounding kingdoms. As a peace offering they were invited to the ceremony. Little did your leader know what sinister actions would play out. Ivar and the young king had been in talks for a peace treaty.

You held your girl close, shielding her from the next scene. It was the day he had taken you.

You and the other maidens just so happened to pass by the dining hall. It was at that moment when Ivar swore time itself had stopped. He had been mesmerized by your presence. You, a noble maiden had captured the heathen king's heart.

For the entire evening he hadn't cared for anyone's attention but yours. Ordering you to halt everything to give the King your attention. His obsession was obvious to everyone but you. He followed you around like a love-sick puppy. To the point where the King himself appointed you as his foreign advisor.

Ivar had tried everything to woo you. From the promises of riches, to land, to the title of noblewoman. All of which you politely declined. Stating that you were happy with you life the way it was. Part of you knew he wouldn't stop until you gave him the attention he so desperately craved. So much so that he decides to take matters into his own hands.

Suddenly the stage began to erupt with an array of ribbons thrown into the air. To symbolize the arrows lit aflame. Flashes of that night came to you in small doses. You're no longer in Kattegat but now residing in your kingdom, before it was burned to the ground. You could see what was once your home, burning right before your very eyes. Hearing the echoes of your people's screams. The day your life changed forever.

There Ivar was, crawling towards you as you ran for the door. "Help! Help me! Someone please!" you ran as fast as you could. The gates began to close. There was not a moment to waste. You ran because your life depended on it. But it was too late, the guards on the other side began to pull harder for the gate to close. Soon enough it had shut.

You slam it as hard as you can. Until your fists began to bruise, "Please! Someone help me! I'm the commander's daughter! Please!" taking a breath loud enough so that they can hear you, "Don't leave me!" sobbing against the metal doors. As you turn around to find Ivar had caught up with you. He grins from ear to ear covered in blood from the fallen soldiers. With a look in his eyes that said: You're mine.

On the other side of the border your father and his men fought to defend the kingdom's last line of defense. "Sir!" a solider ushers for your father, who scolds him, "Not now boy!" he swings his sword at a heathen climbing the walls. But the man insists, "It's your daughter." causing the general to halt, "What is it boy?!"

"She's missing."

"What has happened?!"

"She left for the market this morning."

Those words alone made his blood run cold, "No..." It was that day when your father had made the ultimate sacrifice. Either let the gates down and weaken the kingdom's last defense, or lose his only child. Soon enough, Ivar had already reached the gates, halting his army from furthering. He demands to speak with your father to make a deal, “General, will you let me wed your daughter?”

He scowls at such a command, “When it rains fire.”

Ivar hums, nodding at the man's proclaim, “So let it be.” He raises his arms in the air, signaling for his warriors to shoot. Hundreds of arrows are lit aflame and shot into the sky. It took three days and nights until your kingdom had finally surrendered. Ivar had won. Your kingdom had lost.

This was the ‘Great love story’ of King Ivar and his queen. Your remember the pain and betrayal felt was immeasurable. Those strong feelings from years ago all came down at once. Like something inside of you had finally tipped over. You finally reach your breaking point, bowing your head in shame. Crying to yourself as your daughter tries her best to comfort you. But her soft heart could no longer take the sight of her mother weeping, as she wraps her arms around you and cries.

It catches the attention of your husband. It was then when his mood had shifted. He couldn’t help but feel like a deep pit had been dug in his belly. Ivar swishes the ale in his mouth, swallowing it as if it were bitter.

He sighs, standing up from his seat, “Halt!” he commands. The room goes silent. There isn’t so much as a whisper. Ivar gathers the actors, lining them up in a row for interrogation. He orders the guards to bring the writer responsible for the play. Soon enough, a timid man is put on stage. It was then when you had to beg your husband to spare his life. Ivar lets out a huff, "You should be thanking my wife for sparing you. Don't let it happen again." with that the celebration had come to an end.

You left as fast as you could. Sending your children off to their rooms before returning to your dreadful marital chambers. You ready yourself for bed, hoping that Ivar would return much later. When you hear his footsteps approaching you don't bother to look him in the eye. You help your husband remove his leg braces; since he's only ever let you do it.

When the two of you are finally in bed, Ivar reaches for your waist. He wraps his arms around your body as he held your bodies together. He presses his nose against the top of your hair, whispering, "It was the gods who led me to you my love..." he sighs, breathing in your scent. He hums, "The healers have already informed me." he brushes his hand flat against your mid drift. He feels for the swell of your under belly, one of his favorite things to do. If he could stay like this forever, he would. Ivar reassures you with soft whispers, "There there my love, it is in the past..." as he gently wipes the tears away, cooing as you cried the rest of the night in his arms.

Deceitfuldevout's Chris Evans Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-Shots:

Poison Apple - Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Goth!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704554242553380864/poison-apple?source=share

Trust - Dark!Stucky x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649373631528960/trust?source=share

Red Daughter - Dark!Steve Rogers x ExHydra!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649377217724416/red-daughter?source=share

Sleeping Beauty - Dark!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649380328882176/sleeping-beauty?source=share

The Passenger - Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704662523144765440/the-passenger?source=share

Ruining America's Sweetheart - Dark!Steve Rogers x Sidekick!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/726011254129524736/americas-sweetheart?source=share

PIty Party - Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Runaway!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/715180927034294272/pity-party?source=share

Series:

Easy Money - Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/708439020662882304/deceitfuldevouts-easy-money-masterlist?source=share

Trust Fund Baby - Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/707813567777439744/trust-fund-baby-masterlist?source=share

Highest Bidder

Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader

Word Count: +3,066

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Loss of virginity, Human auction, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Misogynistic remarks, Insults, Just plain abuse, Robert is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. Inspired by @mypoisonedvine Robert Fischer fic go check it out!!

You couldn't stop checking your phone for an update. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he bail? Part of you had hoped so. It would make things a lot easier. Years ago, if someone had told you that you'd be auctioning off your virginity, well, the first thing you'd do is laugh in their face.

That was before everything went to shit. Your parents ended up in neck-deep debt trying to pay off your college, borrowing money from some sleazy loaner company. Soon having no choice but to debate on filing for bankruptcy. Everything they've worked hard for, gone. You didn't want them to worry about that anymore.

This wasn't a huge deal for you. Personally, you've never had any luck with guys and would rather get this over with. Growing up you were always the awkward, ugly duckling of the friend group, so a boyfriend was out of the picture. Only sharing an innocent kiss with a childhood friend, but that was a long time ago. It was only after you reached your 20's where you began to bloom.

He'd bought your outfit and covered the cost of everything. He wants you ready and waiting for him, all wrapped up like a pretty present. He's very particular about these things, even making a list of errands to run before the big day. He requested for photos of the hair and makeup you'd be wearing for the evening. Scolding you every time you did something he disliked. He wouldn't even try hiding it. You reread his previous text message: Change the makeup. It makes you look like a cheap whore. You scoff at the response...how rude.

Even before all of this he would try to test your patience. Sending messages like, 'Do you know who I am? You should be more grateful that I'm giving you this much attention," or "Anyone would be lucky to be in your position,' which made you physically roll your eyes. This morning, he had given you a call as a reminder of where you would meet. He send you the hotel address with money for a cab.

He made sure to give you call in the afternoon as a reminder of what to do after arriving, ending it with, "I don't want to hear any complaining when I get there." before hanging up. You grumble a stray of curse words, this had better been worth it...

You couldn't believe your eyes on how luxurious the hotel was. It's entrance had been decorated with marble and brass statues. There wasn't a drop of it that didn't scream 'money'. You sheepishly sign in, allowing a worker to carry your bag to the room. It had taken a while before you could reach the top. Part of you was impressed, he had really gone all out.

As soon as you enter the room there was this sort of romantic ambiance to it. From the lighting, to the breathtaking scenery of the city. It was all so...dreamy. But this was no dream. You were going to have sex for the first time with some old, rich geezer, gross. You take note of a shopping bag left on the bed, opening it to find a lingerie set.

You held the fabric, inspecting the material. White lace, with hints of glitter that shine in the light. At least the old man has good taste. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, humming at the sight of it. Not bad...hell, you looked fantastic.

Suddenly the door knob jingles, then a heavy knock follows. You leapt from the bed, approaching to open the door for him. But before you could reach the knob it slams open. A man enters, sporting a well-tailored suit, dressed to the nines from head-to-toe. His hair is combed back, a few strands dangle against his forehead. As you scan the man's face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

There's a light rosy hue to his cheeks. You first notice the striking blues of his eyes and how long his lashes are. He looks like he'd have no problem at all searching for someone. So what is he doing paying for someone like you? For a moment, you were in awe of his presence. Staring back at the man like a deer caught in headlights.

The meeting today had taken its toll on Robert. He was supposed to meet with you hours ago, but there had been an emergency with the company's shareholders. He could practically feel his blood boiling, to the point where it felt almost difficult to breathe. He tugs his tie off and yanks for his shirt to open, a few buttons go flying. He lets out a huff, scanning the room with his blue orbs for something, more specifically, someone.

"So you're the one I've been talking to eh?" a hint of humor in his voice, "Let me guess, you're a good girl caught up in the wrong crowd? Is that it?" he taunts, "I'm sure you've 'never' done this before," the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sinister grin. His eyes are emotionless. Cold as ice. Yet why did they seem so comforting? As if you've seen them before.

He drops his suitcase at the end of the bed, turning towards you. He eyes you up and down, as if he were deep in thought, "Give me a spin," and of course you follow his orders. He raises a brow, "Come here," he commands. You stare back at him, unsure of what he'd just said. Robert sighs, he doesn't have time for this. He's slightly drunk and exhausted from work. Right now he just wants some hard, animalistic fucking.

He tugs your underwear to the side, examining his prize. He bunches up the waistband of your panties before yanking the fabric down. You held your breath, now riddled with anxiety. This was a bit too...casual for comfort. He fists the fabric, holding it to the side while the other hand held your hip.

His voice is deep, much deeper in person, "Hold it for me," he wants to get a good look at his purchase. His thick fingers slide down your pubic area, grazing against the bare skin, he hums, "Even waxed yourself like I told you to, good girl." he slaps the side of your hip, as if he were examining livestock. Your stomach coils at the realization. Never in your life have you felt so...objectified. Still, now wasn't the time to back down. He pushes you against a desk. Until you were now leaning on the table.

He spreads your folds with his thick digits, examining them closely. He held your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You let out a whine from the sensation, bucking your hips from the sudden discomfort. He retreats his hand before flipping you over. His chest now against your back. He pushes you against the table, bending you over for a better view. He was in no rush.

He rubs his fingers over your bare slit. His thumb caresses your bundle of nerves. As soon as he retreats you finally snap the fabric back in place. Now lowering your head with embarrassment. He grips your chin, lifting it until you're face-to-face, "No don't hide from me now..." he plops himself on a chair, tilting his chin up, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get this off?"

If you weren't getting paid you would've scoffed at his rudeness. It was obvious he was into power play. Being in total control of everything. Now wasn't the time for letting your emotions emotions get involved. You help him remove his coat and tie, even unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He's still wearing his pants, now unclasped. He stares you down, a smirk now lingering on his cold features, "Take off your clothes,"

When you start to quickly unclasp the garter belt, Robert's voice booms, "Stop." he orders, "Do it slower," he leans back in the recliner, already palming his erection. You shyly unclasp your belt, letting the straps fall off each shoulder. His hand grazes on an exposed breast, sending shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, "Oh...don't tell me you're that sensitive?" a crude remark. Your brows furrow, why did he have to tease you so? He notices your obvious discomfort, "Don't worry darling, your only job is to fuck," as if that would make things better, "Do you know how to suck cock?" he questions. You give him a hesitant nod, "No...I've never done it before this is my first time--"

"I didn't ask for a whole life story,"

"...No," your lips press in a thin line. He was really pushing it, "So you've never had sex or sucked cock before, tell me, what have you done?" he pulls out his member, already hard and leaking. It's tip was flush pink, the same as his lips. He spits into his palm before working himself up, he knows you're nervous. He wants you to be intimidated by him. He pumps his shafts with slow strokes, "Tell me, what gets you off..." he sighs.

You look down to your feet, suddenly his voice booms, "No, do not look away," to which you began to tear up. His voice is soft now, "Sweetheart, look at me," he huffs. You look up at him now with tearful eyes, he groans, "Oh...that's it..." stroking his cock faster. A finger points directly at you in a 'come hither' motion. You walk towards him, still eyeing his shaft. How was that going to fit?

You felt warm despite the lack of clothing, there's a pooling sensation between your legs. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His tongue darts against a breast. He teases the bud with his teeth. He made sure it was swollen and sensitive before giving attention to the other breast.

You never knew it could feel this...good. As soon as your hands reach for his hair he instantly stops, Robert remembers the reason why you're here. It wasn't to see him. You only wanted one thing, and he doesn't have time to play pretend. He just came here to collect what he's owed. At the end of the day, you were just a hired whore. He swats both hands away, giving you the cold shoulder. He lifts himself from the seat, throwing you against the carpet. You're confused at the sudden mood swing. It frightens you. Where the hell did that come from?

"It's a shame, you were doing so well," Robert sits up, his leaking cock now presses against his abdomen. He's pissed. He paid you for your time, you were suppose to focus only on his needs. Every word that came from his mouth dripped with anger, "It seems like you need a reminder on whore etiquette," he knows you've probably fucked a few before him, this was all part of your little roleplay act.

"I'm not a whore!" you detest lying, what made him not believe you? Forget it...this wasn't worth an argument, "You know what? You can take your money back asshole! Fuck this and fuck you--" a hand grips around your neck. He'll have to show you a thing or two of what comes with selling yourself out, especially to a complete stranger. You've always knew deep down that you'd regret your first, but this was downright terrifying.

This man, he didn't even see you as a person. As a human being. To him, this was all a transaction that was paid for, "What did you think that website was for? It's a human auction. Not just your cunt. Meaning I own your ass for the next few hours," he leans in, pressing his nose against yours, he growls, "Remember your place..."

Robert pulls you up by the hair, throwing you onto the bed. You scramble to get away but he's much stronger. He began to wrestle you. To which you land a slap on his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. You pause, now too scared to move. He touches the tender skin, it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. Which just so happens to be an important meeting, "You little bitch..." he grips your jaw until it aches, forcing your mouth to open.

He takes the opportunity to spit inside, covering your mouth and pinching your nose. You felt like you wanted to gag. Finally, after fighting to hold your breath, you swallow. He grins, "See? even if you try to fight me, I always get what I want..."

You, of all people, should know this about him. Instead you try putting up a fight, "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!" thrashing around. Both of his hands now pressed against your throat. He scolds, "If you want it to hurt I'll make it hurt like nothing else..." he flips you over, pressing his body against your own, making it harder to breathe.

He lets his pants slide down. Tugging off his boxers. He spits a wad into his hand, that should be enough to get comfortable, for him. But for you? Well, he wants it to hurt you. Otherwise, how will you learn? Whores like you deserve to feel pain. That's what you get for teasing him in your photos. He growls into your ear, "Time to try my pussy..."

He yanks down your panties before pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He muffles your cries in his palm. You couldn't hold back the tears. This man is going to break you! As retaliation you tilt your head to the side and bit into his forearm. He grunts from the pain, it only encourages him to carry out your punishment. He thrusts harder, grinding down his hips to reach as deep as he could go.

You sob from the pain, going limp from shock. All you could do was cry into his hand, bracing yourself against the cushioning below. You turned your head to face the mirror, taking a good look at your own sad, pathetic reflection. You were being dominated by a complete stranger. How did it get to this point? When did you become so pathetic? So desperate to the point where you became a whore for hire?

He held you close to his chest. He knows now you're too tired to fight him off. He kept jutting his hips back and fourth, moaning in your ear with a deep grumble. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It repulses you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were of skin-to-skin slapping, Robert's insults, and your muffled cries.

"Fuck....fuck m'gonna cum..." he grunts. He rubs his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scented perfume. He drags his face across the soft, supple skin. He can tell by the shimmer that you applied an expensive lotion earlier. Of course you wanted him, what woman wouldn't? He's handsome, rich, successful, he's the entire package.

So why were you begging for him not to finish inside? You were just being stubborn, that's all. He'll have to remind you of who's in charge, "I bought this pussy fair and square. If I want to put a baby in it, then bitch, I will," he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting until the skin breaks. He doesn't stop thrusting his hips. Plunging his cock deep inside to coat your womb. He moans, furrowing his brows from the feeling of your velvety walls.

"You think you're better than me huh? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to get knocked up, yeah fucking right" he huffs, "You just wanted an excuse to be whore..." His voice becomes hoarse, as the pleasure began to increase, "Fuck...fuck I'll buy you a big house just so I can fuck you in it...hm...yeah you'd like that wouldn't you?" he doesn't stop his vigorous thrusts, "I’ll fuck some babies into you hm? You'd like that? I’ll give you a baby with blue eyes…something to remind you of me…" he flips you over, locking an arm around your neck.

All you could do was whine as you wait for the inevitable. Robert licks a stripe against your ear. He grunts with satisfaction, "Want you to remember this for the rest of your life....every time you think about your first time, you'll be thinking of me...." he fastens his pace. All you could do was stare back at your reflection. A tear trickles down your cheek. You couldn't help but agree. It was true, this moment would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Robert knows it. That's what gives him such an ego boost. He felt like he was on top of the fucking world. He growls in your ear, "Remember this, I.Fucking.Own.You." before unloading his spunk deep inside. He muffles a moan in the crook of your neck, bowing his head down to feel the bliss of it all. Fuck, he never came so much in his life. Was it the adrenaline or the pussy? He doesn't care. All he knows is that it's money well spent.

He slowly begins to pull out, hissing from the pleasure your pussy gave. He moans at the sight of his shaft dipped in a crimson tint, "Fuck me...if that isn't a sight for sore eyes..." he's made sure to mark his territory. He flips you over, you're too scared to even look at him.

He slides his hand from your stomach to your pelvis, "Hold on...I want to see it.." giving your lower abdomen a light push, forcing the rest of his seed out. It's mixed with a string of red. His lids are hooded, there's a twitch to his features. He grins, "Fuck...guess you weren't lying about me being your first..." he chuckles, "And here I thought you were just another lying whore..." playing with your emotions.

Robert lifts himself from the bed. He retrieves his belt on the floor, tying your wrists to the bed post. He doesn't want to risk you running away from him. Not while he still had a few hours left. He fixes himself in the mirror, coming his hair back to how it was before. Making sure that there wasn't a single strand out of place. He admires himself in the mirror. He felt like a fucking champ. Like nothing in the world could stop him, and so far there hasn't been.

Robert knew this was a good idea the moment he saw your profile online. He'd been tracking you down for quite some time, it's been a while. His obsession growing with each message sent. He had to own you. Mind, body, and soul. It was a good idea to install the hidden camera in the hotel. He could only stare at you from his office, viewing you changing into the set he'd purchased, admiring yourself in the mirror. He had to wait another agonizing hour before work was finished.

He notices the way you'd tried being presentable, all for him. How you would constantly check your phone just to see what his orders were. Submissive, compliant, needy. So fucking needy. That little pussy of yours needed his cock to break it in. He doesn't want it to end, he tosses a few bills onto the mattress, you don't even flinch. Your mind had already escaped.

Robert leans in, caging your body with his arms, "Why don't I keep you as my little plaything, hm?" he knows you've recently graduated. But what use was a degree compared to what he could give? What greater reward than being his pretty little housewife? You might as well put those looks to use. He plants a kiss against your lips, humming in satisfaction, "Need a good girl to balance me out..." he begins to rant, "And if you ever think of leaving me, I'll send a video of us fucking to your parents,"

But the thing is, you never told him who your parents were. It was then when the pieces began to fall into place. How could you be so stupid? His username was R-Morrow.

This was no other than the owner of Fischer Morrow, the man responsible for your landing parents in deep debt. Of course they trusted him, because he's your childhood friend. You lift yourself up and face him. Your voice in disbelief when you question the identity of the strange man, now with a tearful look, "R-Robbie?" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, head turning to the side as he looks your way, "Did you miss me?"

"...Why? I-I don't understand..." you began hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. Your childhood friend had taken your virginity. At one point, he was your entire world. He approaches you, no longer a lanky young boy but a man. He cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. He sighs, "Don't you remember the promise we made? To find each other?" his eyes bore into yours, "I could only dream of it, but now?" he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, "Now you're finally mine..."

Naughty Little Thief

Dark!Jackson Rippner x Theif!Reader

Word Count: +5,416

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Theft, Stalking, Manhandling, Forced Oral (m receiving), Forced Stripping, Forced grinding, Unwanted orgasm, Classism, Verbal abuse, Partial loss of virginity, Rimming (f receiving), Public sex, Humiliation.

Author's Note(s): I'm bored at work and wanted to kill some time before studying. Here's more Cillian content.

It's the holiday season, and you end up pickpocketing the wrong person. He makes sure you'll regret ever crossing paths with him.

You felt bad for what you were about to do. But he didn't seem like he was financially struggling. So of course, you decided to pickpocket the stranger. Deep down you hated it, but there was no other choice. It was either this or going hungry tonight. At the end of the day it didn't matter, money was money. That was the mindset that's kept you alive for so long. You spot the chosen victim, he's a businessman, seemingly in his thirties, wearing an expensive tailored suit. Jackpot.

You wind your way through the crowd of shoppers, scurrying towards the unsuspecting man. You're right beside him, giving a light pinch to his left side. As soon as he turns to find the source, you quickly reach into his right pocket and pull out his wallet, scurrying into the crowd to disappear. That was almost too easy. You could tell by the texture alone that it was expensive. You turn it around and read the embroidery on the flap, 'J. Rippner'. A man who has good taste.

But before you could open it, someone grips the back of your neck. A large leather hand digs into your skin. You cry out, dropping the wallet as both of your hands reach for the stranger's. He turns you to face him. It's Rippner, and he's pissed, "Where the hell do you think you're going? Hm?"

"I...I.." you were at a loss of words. He drags you by the arm into the nearest alleyway. You look around for someone, anyone who would see what was happening and stop him. No one, of course. Who would help a thief like you? He slams you hard against a brick wall, your head throbbing in pain from the impact. It takes you a while to catch your breath as all the air had escapes your lungs. He uses his body to trap yours between the cold stone, caging you with him.

He growls, "You wanna steal from me you thieving little bitch?!", he's fuming, "I should drag your ass straight to the police station," he hisses, his features twisting with anger. You could tell by those cold, piercing eyes that he was not an easily forgiving man. Yet still, you tried to persuade him, "W-wait! Please! I'll do anything! I-I swear!"

Jackson pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering up at down your quivering form. He's thinking of something that would satisfy his growing hunger, "Show me your tits," for a moment, you couldn't believe what he had just said, brows furrowing in confusion, "I-I'm sorry?" you look at him as if he'd grown two heads. He leans in, now grumbling, "Show me those tits, and I'll decide if you're worth letting go,"

His hands grip the front of your jacket as he unzips it. He rips open the buttons off your blouse, ignoring your protests. Finally reaching a lacy bralette hidden under all those layers. He whistles, "Well I'll be damned, you weren't expecting anyone, were you?" he mocks. Your fingers dig into his arms, but it was futile. You bare your teeth at the man holding you hostage, "Go to hell you perv!" that remark only worsens your situation. He drags the fabric down, revealing both your breasts to the winter air.

You gasp, trying your best to cover them. A leather gloves reaches to twist one of your buds. His voice is stern, "I'm sorry, what was that?" pulling harshly at the sensitive nub. You yelp from his touch, retreating in hopes that he would halt his actions. You were wrong, instead that bratty tone from earlier, landed you a harsh slap on the chest. His gloves didn't ease the impact. He delivers strike after strike against your bare flesh. Until both buds began to peak on their own.

He fondles them in his hands, eyeing his work, "Nice tits..." he gives both of them a squeeze, pulling them towards him, "Very responsive..." his deep voice now a purr. All you could do was glare back at him with tearful eyes, trying your best not to cry. You hadn't expected a complete stranger to be so cruel. You, a literal thief.

Jackson dips a finger into your mouth. When you try to bite down, he delivers a light tap on your jaw. Holding the back of your head with an iron grip as he points in your face, "Don't even think about it, I'm not joking I'll drag your sorry ass bare naked down the streets," he threatens. His hands reach around your waist. He yanks your pants down to your ankles. Exposing your bottom half to him.

He takes a look at the panties you were wearing. Staring back at the teddy bear print and smirks, "How adorable..." his fingers slide in between your legs, caressing the now slick folds though the fabric. You turned your head to the side to see if any onlookers would pass by. He notices and angles his body to cover your form. He whispers in your ear, "Shh...I just need you to help me, and I'll help you, then we're even," it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

He reaches around the waist of your panties, slowly sliding off your underwear. He groans at the sight of it, licking his gloved digits before sliding them up and down your slit. You whine from the light, sensual touches. He reaches for your opening, collecting any wetness. His breathing increases, as does yours. He captures your bud in his hand, teasing it until you almost lost footing. You grip his shoulder for balance. He chuckles, "Oh you like that, don't you?" he teases. That earns him a harsh slap.

You were done being his little plaything. No more, you weren't going to whore yourself out to anyone. Especially not to some trust-fund baby. His head whips the other way, strands of his hair now dangling against his forehead. His cheek twitches, as if there were a battle going on inside him, "Oh, you've fucked up now..." both his hands are around your neck, squeezing it as hard as he could. You try fighting back, fingers digging into his wrists.

But it was futile, there was no way of stopping him. When your vision begins to blur and grip starts to weaken, he lets go. You cough hysterically, trying your best to breathe again. He waits until you're done with the dramatics. He grips your chin, eyes boring into your own, "That, was a warning," he pushes both your shoulders down until you're on your knees, "This, is your punishment," slotting his foot in between both legs.

He forces you to sit on his leather shoe, tilting your head to look him in the eyes, "Get yourself off," he commands. By now, you know not to disobey his orders. You try testing the waters, the cold leather felt uncomfortable against your bare mound. It was almost unbearable. It takes a while before you collect any slickness. Your ears getting warmer despite the weather.

Rippner chuckles, he retrieves his foot before you've had a chance to finish. He examines his now wet shoe. He sneers, "Really? You're seriously getting off on me using you like this?" a cruel grin plays on his face. He presses his shoe against your bare pussy, he mushes it against the opening, "Of course you'd like that...you're nothing but filth..." his cruel words made you blink back tears. They feel hot gliding down your cheeks. It almost makes him feel bad for doing all of this to you. But then again, you did just try to rob him.

He sighs, "We've got to do something about that mouth of yours," he suddenly unzips his pants, pulling out his half-hard cock. Your eyes bulge at the sight of it, pressing your lips shut in protest. He held his girth in one hand and your hair in the other. Jackson glides his shaft across your face, his leaking tip smears precum on your cheek. He mockingly taps his cock against your lips. His voice is raspy, "Does this make you squirm?" he knew exactly what he was doing to you with those words.

He pinches the bridge of your nose to cut off any air supply, forcing your mouth to open. He doesn't waste any time shoving his member deep inside. His tip now touching the back of your throat. It makes your eyes water. The corners of your lips rip from the stretch of his girth alone. How it could fit, you hadn't a clue. Both his hands grip the sides of your head, as he begins to buck his hips. He groans, "Oh fuck...you feel fucking amazing..." moaning with each thrust.

He stops himself from going any further. He wants to cum inside, but not in your mouth. No, he'll save it for some other time. He pulls you away from his cock and you're an absolute mess. Spit and tears everywhere. He lifts you by the shoulders, pressing you against the brick wall, again. He aims his tip against your cunt. It takes you a moment to process what was happening. Then in a split moment both of your arms shoot out, "N-no! Not there!" You cried, "Anywhere but there!" your voice starts to break.

Even after losing everything, you still didn't want your first time to be with a complete stranger. He could do whatever he wants, just not that. His long fingers wrap around your neck, adding a bit of pressure as he whispers in your ear, "Oh? And why is that?" genuinely curious. Your answer is faint, almost silent. He didn't quite catch what was said, "I'm sorry, what was that?" he held your jaw in place so he could look at you in the face. There was no way, not at your age. Did he hear you correctly?

You were starting to get pissed off, "I said I never fucked before, asshole!" that had you receive a harsh slap on the ass, "Ow! Ow okay! I'm sorry, just stop already!" that explains a lot. How you managed to leave his gloves and shoe soaking wet. As much as Rippner wants to pump a load into that sweet pussy, he decides to save it for later. Instead, he flips you over, your bare chest now against concrete.

Jackson bites his lips. He can't believe he's getting on his knees for someone like you. He parts both your cheeks, spitting at your rim to get it nice and wet. He flattens his tongue, lapping it against the tight ring before thrusting it in. Your knees began to buckle, you use the wall for support. Pressing your face against the brick. He bobs his head to a rhythm, and you can't stop moaning. His tongue reaching deep inside the muscle. His free hand reaches to rub at your clit, while the other pumps his cock.

After a while he stands up, aiming his now leaking tip against the rim, "This is going to hurt, a lot," he starts to enter, pushing inch by inch. You squeal at the stretch. A gloved hand muffles your cries. He began to give short, small thrusts. He grunts from how tight you were. Almost climaxing from the squeeze you gave. He quickens his pace, wrapping his other arm around your waist for better leverage. From there he went on autopilot, ignoring your pleas to slow down. He simply couldn't, he doesn't want to.

Finally, he releases a load deep inside. You felt his hot spunk coating your insides. Your head felt heavy after already reaching your own orgasm. His head hung over your shoulder. His breathe felt warm, "I've been eyeing you for a while, little mouse," It's true, he's been watching you for some time. You had first caught his eye when his chauffer was stuck in traffic. He watched as you went into action. It was remarkable, that talent of yours.

He's been planning this for some time. Today he wanted to see you up close. He had to know more about you. Even asking his ride to drop him off a few blocks. Jackson purposely took this route knowing that he'd get robbed. He needed an excuse to talk to you, his little specimen of interest. He knew the exactly how you would steal from your victims. Although he couldn't feel the hand reaching into his pocket, it was pinch you gave to his side that indicated him the wallet had already been stolen. That was his sign to take over the situation.

His arms are still wrapped around your upper body, hands now playing with your tits, "I'm Jackson by the way, Jackson Rippner," he tells you while still buried deep inside, "You've been targeting this street for a while now, you live around here?" no answer. You downright refused to entertain him any longer. He gasps, "Oh...that's right I completely forgot..." he grips your hips, slowly pulling out his member. He hisses from the feeling. It's almost too good to stop.

He retrieves a napkin from his coat pocket and hands it to you. When you refuse to take it, he isn't mad. Although you were testing his patience. He helps you get changed, satisfied that you kept his load in. Your panties were probably soaked by now. Once the both of you were decent, he asks you again. Yet still, no answer. For that he lands another slap on the same spot. You yelp from the impact, "Here! I live here!" "I know that, but where? This is a shopping district, there aren't any homes in this area, so, answer my question: Where do you live?"

You look out the alleyway to a place across the street. He pulls you in, with an arm now wrapped around your waist. From a distance it seemed as if the two of you were lovers. You guide him to where you've been living in the past few months. Right across the street in a small, worn-out vehicle. Jackson raises a brow, "You live...in a car?" he sounds genuinely surprised.

It's the dead of winter. Not exactly the perfect time to be stuck out on the streets. But it was all you had. You turn around to face him, "Yeah well, some of us don't have daddy's money to get us by..." you scoff. He likes that answer. Good, you wouldn't have anyone to miss you. He grins from ear to ear, tilting his head, "If that's the case, you're coming with me," He drags you to a mysterious black car with tinted windows. Your feet drag against the pavement. You' we're too exhausted to fight back.

It felt uncomfortable trying to find a sitting position. Jackson hops in right after, sitting unbearably close to you. He held you close, like a lover would. He sighs with adoration, "You don't have to worry about your things because I'm keeping you," he taps the tip of your nose, "But no more stealing? Got it?" he'd rather not draw any negative attention your way. Jackson then hums a holiday tune, which one you didn't care. All you could think of was how much you regretted ever stealing from him. He held you close to him, stroking your hair before giving a chaste kiss, "Merry Christmas to me, eh?"

Savior (Part 2)

Dark!Emmett x Reader

Word Count: +1,289

Warning(s): +18, Dub con, Non con, Kidnapping, Use of toys, Object insertion. Oral sex (f receiving), Emmett a lil freak.

Author's Notes(s): I've always had a feeling that Emmett would be secretly kinky, lmk what you think!

You've been held in captivity for three months now. Captured and kept like an animal, all by someone you once held to a high standard. Before this, you used to think of Emmett as this image of an all-American family man. To think that looks could be so deceiving.

His mood swings were like fire and water. Each day was different than the next. If it was a good supply run, he'd take his sweet time making love to you. But if it was bad? He'd rut into you like it was his last day on earth.

It wasn't hard for Emmett to drag you down into the factory's basement. Even after your ankle had healed, he was still much stronger. He kept you locked in what was once a supply closet-turned bedroom. It took him a while to gather the supplies needed to make it more comfortable. Like an owner decorating their pet's cage. He had kept you as his little plaything to use and abuse as he pleases.

Emmett would only take you out when it was absolutely necessary. Either for a quick bathe, or bathroom break. He'd make sure to replace the metal cuff around your ankle, for a leather collar around your neck. Every part of the routine was a humiliating reminder of where your place was. You were his property, to serve and to use. Emmett on the other hand, loved taking care of you.

Every morning would start out the same. You would always wakeup because of his early morning 'cravings'. A sudden feeling of thick digits sliding up and down your folds would stir from a deep slumber. His thick voice, still hoarse with sleep whispering in your ear, "Shh...pretty girl...'just wanna feel ya..." his cock already stiff against your backside.

You couldn't see anything in the dark. How on earth could he manage to get this far? The only thing you could do was feel around. You could tell it was Emmett's warm body presses flush against yours, He always made sure to strip himself naked every night, before joining you in bed. His leaking tip rubs itself on your lower back. He couldn't help the way you made him feel. Seeing you sleeping soundly in that slip-on he'd found, well, that stirred something in him.

You could feel his thick beard scratch your neck and shoulder as he starts to line himself up. He lets out a soft sigh, his breath is warm compared to the cool winter air. He cages your body with his, so that you won't get away. His fingers dig into your soft, supple hips. His calloused hands slide under your slip-on camisole, as his fingers graze the bare flesh. You would've been freezing if it weren't the heat emitting from his body. His bare chest now presses against yours. He sighs, "''M sorry baby...I couldn't help myself..." he moans while thrusting up and into your channel.

He always knew what spot to hit that made you crumble. His hand found it's way to your bundle of nerves. He starts to rub it, making your toes curl. He grunts against your shoulder, letting out a deep moan before finishing inside. Emmett climbs out of bed, his cock now slicks with your arousal. You didn't bother looking up, still annoyed that he hadn't waited until the sun was up. You grumble a few curse words before turning your back towards him. He chuckles at your adorable reaction, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek before getting dressed.

Emmett woke up early to start his day off right. As soon as he reaches the convenience store, he wastes no time filling up his satchel. He takes note of the things you liked. Speaking of which, what did you like? He knows almost everything about you. All except your sex life. He thinks long and hard about it, maybe he should try spicing it up a bit.

You check the time on the digital clock, he's late. As much as you despise him, there was a part of you that worried of him not coming back. If something were to happen to him, what would you do? There was no way you could tell what was going on, not with the door being locked from the outside. Emmett was supposed to be home by now. Where the hell was he?! You hated having to worry about him. It made you feel all the more powerless.

An hour ago, he was supposed to come through the front door and ask for a kiss. Followed by you setting up the table and talking about today's activities. Emmett would then place the found dinner on the table. He would take his time, explaining how his day went. Suddenly the metal door clicks open. You scurry back onto the bed, pretending to sleep.

Emmett approaches the bedside, giving you a few light pecks, "Hey...pretty girl..." his voice is a soft whisper, "Did you sleep well?" he leans in, warmth radiates from his body. You glare at him, "You're late," trying your best to sound angry with him. He nods, "I know dear, and I'm sorry for that," he clutches the bag in hand, "I found a few things for 'ya," he states.

Emmett flips the bag over, emptying its contents, he doesn't bother looking up, "So you won't miss me," he already knows what your reaction would be. Your eyes widen at the collection.

There are an array of similar shaped dildos, silent vibrators, and plugs. Your thighs clench at the sight of it. You let out a deep breath, trying to control the rising nerves. Emmett speaks up, "I know women have their own needs, and if you ever want to--" "Don't," you grit your teeth. He understands now, the problem wasn't your sex life, it’s that you hated having sex with him. He doesn't blame you. How could he after everything you went though? He leaves without saying a word. It took you aback when Emmett decides to spend time away. Sometimes he would be gone for a few days straight without telling you. This was unlike him.

As soon as Emmett returns from another trip he walks straight towards his room. He pauses for a moment after hearing something, no, someone. It came from your room. He slowly opens the door, the sounds became much clearer.

There you were, laid back in bed with your eyes shut blissfully. Soft moans escape your lips as you pump the silicone phallus in and out your channel. Emmett held his breath. He was in awe from the sight of it. He slowly drags his mask down and out of the way. Noticing the faint smell of sex in the air.

He watches as your body writhes against the toy. Your hips jerk a few times, a gush of arousal erupts from your opening. After a few slow thrusts you finally gave out. You laid back in bed with tired huffs, still inhaling the scent of Emmett's shirt. It seems as though he misjudged you, the entire time he'd been worried about you not wanting to be with him. When in reality, you were already his. To think, all this time he'd been so worried, "Baby..." he calls. You look up at him, shutting your legs closed.

He smirks, a hand already palming the growing tent in his pants, "Miss me?" there's a hint of amusement in his voice. You look back at him with a look of lust, giving a small nod. Your knees began to part, revealing the now glistening slick of your folds. Emmett couldn't stifle his moan. He gets on his knees, inspecting the affect he had on you. He did this to you. A feeling of pride swells in him, "You missed me?" to that you faintly nodded, still worn out by the few orgasms from earlier.

His face is right in front of your folds. He flattens his tongue against your slick entrance, giving it a long stoke before returning it to his mouth. He can practically taste how much you've missed him. He's missed you just as much. It just wasn't the same during these past few days. Emmett couldn't take it anymore. It was part of his nature to empty his load in a warm and welcoming cunt. He was simply wired that way. Hunt, mate, breed, and repeat.

Emmett delves his tongue deep inside your womanhood. His lips wrap themselves around your mound. His nose brushes against the now sensitive bundle of nerves. Your thighs twitch from how good it felt, throwing your head back and moaning. Oh, how you've missed this. He looks up at you, capturing the sight of you now playing with both breasts. Emmett gives your clit a few flicks with the tip of his tongue, before wrapping his lips around it. He suckles the now sensitive bundle of nerves.

His finger pads collect your arousal. He starts to thrust them in and out of your channel, soon picking up speed. He doesn't stop pumping his fingers until you've climaxed. Even after, Emmett keeps going until another wave of pleasure hits. Both of your hands tug at his hair, pulling him in. He loves when you do that.

He finally parts from your mound with a 'pop' sound, licking his lips before giving it a peck. Emmett can't keep his eyes off you. His heart leapt in his chest as he watches your tuckered-out form. Both of your legs are still parted. Your inner thighs are sore from the burn of his beard. He's still in awe. You've never looked more beautiful.

At that point, he's ruined you for anyone else. You'll never be able to get rid of him. Not in body, mind, or soul. You were going to be his forever, he'll make sure of it. Then an idea hits him. Emmett rushes out of the room, returning with a satchel in hand. He dumps its contents onto the bed. You inspect each item. You held a pair of panties in front of you, the fabric was missing on the crotch. He looks down to avoid your glare, as if he weren’t the one sporting an erection.

If he can snatch a vibrator off a store rack, then he can look you in the eyes dammit! You silently inspect each item, finally explaining to him of the ones you liked. Emmett couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He pockets the panties, maybe for another time.

Happy Purge

Purge AU: Soft!Dark!Mike Kiernan x Student!Reader

Word Count: +2,068

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Stalking, Kidnapping, Power Imbalance, Use of blood as lube, Mild gore, Purge day.

Author's Note(s): I was thinking about this and coincidentally it's kinktober haha!

It's been almost a decade since the first purge. A lot has changed since then. You remember a time when people didn’t have to worry about looking over their shoulder. Even the morning after was gruesome scene. There was an official purge cleanup crew for that reason alone. You couldn’t help but stare at the clock on the wall.

If you could squeeze in just one last assignment, you'll be free for the weekend. Suddenly, you hear your name being called. It breaks you out of your train of thought, turning to your instructor and apologizing, "Yes Professor! S-sorry..." now embarrassed that you've been caught by him. Professor Mike Kiernan

According to his students, Mike was more than an exceptional teacher. Every last one of them adores him. If not, well then he'd have to look out for tonight. You on the other hand, have always felt there was something off about him. As if he were harboring a dark secret. Maybe it was the building nerves. After all, tonight would be the start of the annual Purge Day.

Mike ends class an hour early, giving his students enough time to reach home safely. You on the other hand, take the opportunity to finish up remaining school work. Mr. Kiernan was also in charge of study hall. He notices you're the last student left and approaches your desk, "Forgetting something?"

You look up at him with your pen still in mouth, taking it out to speak. That's when the realization hits. "Oh sh—shoot!" Quickly correcting the slip up. You had completely forgotten. In about thirty minutes the sirens were going to ring, after that the Purge would commence. You lived a little more than half an hour away. How on earth would you make it to home on time?!

Mike notices your fidgeting, poor thing. You were so caught up in school work that you'd completely forgotten. Always so responsible, one of his best students. So kind and generous. You were always a good student, helping anyone that needed it. Was it bad that he wanted to keep it all for himself?

"Do you need a ride home?" he offers, "It's not safe out there, especially not for a young lady like yourself," kind, genuine words. Your phone is almost dead, and you had no point of contact. So you take his offer, "Thank you professor Kiernan, Seriously," You grateful to have someone like him. He walks you to his car parked on the edge of the lot. He takes his time walking to it. You on the other hand, were in a hurry.

You felt almost embarrassed by the way you held the door handle eagerly waiting for him. To unlock it. He chuckles, clicking the button of his keys to open it. You hurry inside, not wasting a second hopping onto the seat. As he began to drive off you could hear the first warning bell. There would only be two more before the final sirens. Your eyes are glued to the red sirens attached to each public building, the blaring makes you feel sick.

When the car makes a sudden turn off the main road, you begin to grow suspicious, "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't the way to my house..."

"I know, but it's too late for that now," he answers, "The third alarm is about to go off, we won't make it in time," his eyes are still glued to the road. You gather enough courage to speak up again, "Professor....professor where are we going?"

"I live nearby, you're more than welcome to spend the night," he answers, "The last thing I'd want is for those animals to harm a student of mine," he reassures. Mike lives in the more rural side of town. There's a growing feeling you have that something was wrong about all this. But what other choice do you have? It was better than being out there alone on the streets.

As soon as you arrive to Mike's home, he activates the security system. When he first bought the house, the first thing he did was install a Purge-proof security system. He walks into the kitchen, rummaging for something, "Would you like some tea?" he opens the pantry to fetch some herbs. While it boils he gets some jam and toast for it. As soon as he finishes up, he places both cups on the table.

You notice that Mike hadn't taken a sip from his drink. Your eyes widen with fear, "You haven't touched your cup..." there's a pause. Then he realizes his mistake, "Ah, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous," he switches the drinks, "Here, have mine," he takes a sip from your cup to insure it hadn't been spiked. It calms your nerves knowing that there was nothing to worry about.

Mike had kept his promise that you would be safe here. It's been a while since he's had anyone over. He tries his best hosting skills, a round of charade, following by a board game. It was honestly one of the best purge experiences you've had yet. A great distraction from the events occurring outside. He insists on watching a movie to kill the time, you agree. Why not? Besides, Mike's company wasn't so bad.

It was during the middle of the movie when you needed to use the restroom. He points you to down the hall. On your way back, you notice a door had been left open. It was most likely the master bedroom. When you reach the knob to close it, you accidentally take a glimpse inside.

That's when you notice what was there. No....there's no way...You enter his room to get a closer look. Mike smiles to himself. To think that he'd been so worried about everything, and for what? You seem to be enjoying his company. He was right all along, there was something more to your relationship.

He hears you rushing down the hallway, there's an angry look on your face, "What the fuck are these?!" you toss the photos on the ground. Pictured in each and every last one of them is you. Some of them were taken while on campus, others were downloaded from social media posts. He smiles, "Now I know what you're thinking, but if you just hear me out--"

"Not a fucking chance!" you back away from him. He's confused, why now were you acting out? It was going so well between the two of you! Can't you see how much he cares?

"Don't you see the love and dedication I have for you?! And you know it too!" he nears, "I know you feel the same way..." his voice sounding more desperate, there's a deranged look in his eyes that doesn't meet his smile, "Tell me you weren't thinking the same thing, when you waited for me after class," he held a hand to his chest, expressing his love for you.

He's finally letting you know how he's felt for a very long time. You were at a loss for words, there's no way he actually thought--between the two of you? He's delusional. To think you and your classmates actually trusted him. You're pissed, "Get it through your fucking head! You're my professor! That's all you'll ever be!"

After hearing that Mike's smile fades. He could feel heart shattering into a million pieces. Maybe it was a mistake, bringing you here on your own terms. If he knew this was how you would react, then he would've just stuck to the original plan. He knows he could get away with it too. After all, it was Purge day.

Usually, he'd go against something like this. But what other choice does he have? It quickly turns into a fight or flight situation. You knew he was stronger than you, so there would be no point in fighting him. What other choice did you have other than running? Mike is much faster than you realize. He's quick to grab you before you've had a chance to alert the security system.

Mike drags you across his home. He stops by a door located on the side of the staircase. He almost rips the hinges off when he pulls you inside. You fought with all your might, scratching, pushing, hitting wherever you possibly could. To him, they felt like nothing. He's dealt with worse. In the struggle, you're sent tumbling down the stairs.

Mike uses his body to shield yours from the fall. He cradles your head against his chest. Yet still, you were fighting him, after everything he's done. You scurry towards the other side of the basement. As far away from him as you could possibly be.

Mike sighs with annoyance, "You have no idea what it's like..." he lifts himself off the floor, his hands now balled up into fists. He doesn't know how much longer he can hold himself back, "You have no idea what it's like seeing you every day, and not being able to do a damn thing!" he charges, slamming you against a wall, he leans his head closer to yours.

Still there was that look of admiration in his eyes, "We could've been so happy together," Mike grabs you by the throat, pulling you into a deep, searing kiss. In retaliation you bit his lip. He winces in pain, "Will you just...stop fighting me?!" his anger gets the best of him as he slams you against the wall. You're left stunned after getting the wind knocked out of your lungs.

Mike is quick to catch you. He panics, "Please! I don't want to hurt you!" He yells over and over again, "I love you! I love you! Please! I love you!" there are tears in his eyes, "Just please...let me love you..." he sighs against your neck, placing a kiss on the bare skin, "Look at what you do to me..." he grinds his bulge against your clothed mound.

You could practically feel how big it was, even through the many layers of clothing. It makes your skin crawl, how he's played the role of a caring professor and community member for so long. Could he even see himself right now?! "Look, whatever you want, a house, a baby, I'll give ya," Mike never knew he even wanted those things, not until he met you. Don't you see? You're all he's ever needed.

You fought him like a trapped animal. His feisty little wildcat. You use both fists to land a few good hits on his face, over and over again. Hitting his nose with a 'crunch' sound. But still, it doesn't stop him. Mike can't seem to understand why you were trying to escape. It was useless fighting him. This would be so much better if you just gave in. Because eventually, he's going to get what he wants. He pulls you into another forceful kiss.

For that, you headbutt in right in the face. Mike winches, pulling away from you with a now bloody nose. He throws you to the ground. Then pounces, caging his body on top of your own. He begins to unbuckle his belt, dragging his boxers down to free his cock. He spits a wad of blood in his palm, that'll do for now. He doesn't want to waste anymore time. Purge would be ending in a few hours, and he'll make sure to use every last minute of it.

He knows how the law works in this area. If a couple lived together for over a year, then it would legally bind them together as husband and wife. Mike doesn't mind that idea at all, 'My wife...you're going to be my wife," he sighs. Your stomach churns after hearing that, "No...no please, this isn't what I want!"

"You don't even know what you want" Mike starts lifting up your skirt, he's eager, almost giddy, "But I do," yanking down the waistband of your panties. He forces his member deep inside, groaning from the sensation of your walls pulsing. You scream from the intrusion. It resembles a cat's howl.

Tears begin to form, now blurring your vision. Your claws sink deep into his chest, as he began thrusting in and out of your channel. He doesn't stop, not until he finishes. He has only one goal on his mind, to plant his seed, leave a legacy behind, "Take it, take it..." he mumbles over and over again.

"Professor?" a student asks, causing Mike to break from his trance. His student asks the question again, "How was your purge?" genuinely curious. What did Professor Mike Kiernan, of all people, do to earn those nasty bruises? He's still wearing his sweater from yesterday, now caked in his own blood. The first thing he did the morning after, was drag himself out of bed and straight to lecture. He couldn't help but grin, "Well, ran into some trouble, but, no worries,"

His students and coworkers felt bad. They all said the same thing, how Mike was the last person who deserved something like this. If only they knew. After a long day of lectures, he finally drives home. He passes by the Purge's official memorial road. There are numerous photos of people who had either lost their lives or went missing.

When he sees your photo, he can't help but smirk. He parks his car on the side of the road, approaching the stand. He pockets the picture for keepsake, smiling to himself as he returns to his car. It's been a long time since Mike has looked forward to coming home.

Perhaps Purge wasn't so bad.

Scream

Ghostface!Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count: +2,835

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Breaking and entering, Home invasion, Signs of depression, Stalking, One-sided roleplay.

Author's Note(s): I wrote a lil sum sum for kinktober.

You tell your long-term boyfriend Neil that the two of you should take a break. He doesn't take it well and tries to mend the relationship in his own special way.

You've been dating your boyfriend Neil for almost two years now. He knew something was off in your relationship, he just didn’t want to admit it. From the sudden shift in behavior, to dodging his sexual advances. It was going so well in the beginning of your relationship. Hell, your sex life was more than amazing. If it was a slow day at Gumshoe, Neil and you would have a quickie in the backroom. So why now the sudden shift?

It wasn't until you revealed to him the long kept secret, you had stalker. That's when everything started to make sense. For the past two years you've had to deal with said stalker. When you began receiving calls from him, that's when you made the decision to move a town over, landing a job at a local video store. Where you eventually met your now boyfriend Neil Lewis, and the rest was history. Sure, he had his immature antics, but you loved him, nonetheless.

After a long shift at work, you decide to call it a day. Neil assures you he'll be fine alone, since it was slow on afternoons. When you arrive home to find a bouquet of flowers, you assume they're from him. You smile, picking up the beautiful assortment. But it quickly fades when after reading the note: You will never get rid of me.

You don't know how it was possible, but somehow, he had found out where you lived. You dreaded this day would come. The first thing you do is call Neil. As soon as he hears you crying from the other side, he rushed home. You didn't feel safe alone anymore, not with a stalker lurking around. It got to the point where you'd have Neil inspect the house before going to bed.

Neil felt bad about being the only person you could trust. On the other hand, he indulged in you relying on him for safety. He felt like your very own knight in shining armor. He suggested you stay at home while he worked. Everything was fine during the first few days, weeks, but as soon as it became months your relationship began to strain. You were going insane with Neil around 24/7. Sure, he's a great guy, but he was also the only other human interaction you've had in months. You needed some time for yourself.

But whenever you were alone, another incident would occur. Which led you crying straight into Neil's arms. He would try his best to console you, wiping away the tears and promising to keep you safe. Soon enough, his company felt almost suffocating. He could tell right away that the spark between you had faded.

At first, he'd try distracting you with sex, but it got to the point where you lost interest in that as well. He once caught you faking it. That was the final straw. Neil sat you down in the living room to have a talk. Your big mistake was telling him how you really felt, "I just think it's taking a toll on our relationship, I feel like I'm being suffocated!"

"What are you talking about?! Do I not give you enough space?!" his brows furrow. What were you saying right now? According to him he's given you a little too much. You scoff, "Yeah, down the hall," crossing your arms in a fit. Neil couldn't believe what was coming out of your mouth right now. He genuinely believed things were going well between the two of you.

But the look on your face says otherwise. There are tears in your eyes. You're fed up with Neil's excuses to keep you inside all day long. It was starting to make you go crazy. Constantly looking over your shoulders for safety. Of course, he'd never understand, always so damn immature. Maybe it was best the two of you parted ways, "I just don't feel like there's anything left between us, not like before," it took a lot for you to say the truth.

Neil's eyes widen with disbelief, "What are you saying?" he couldn't believe it, the words coming out of your mouth, "What I'm saying is, maybe it's best we'd take a break," Only for a while, but who knows, maybe this was it. Neil's fists ball up, his jaw clenches. There's no way in hell you're breaking up with him. You don't even know how crazy he is about you.

"What do you want me to do?" breaking the ice. You give him a look of disappointment, "It's more complicated than that--"

"Then tell me! Please!" he goes on a list of things that may have led to this moment. Your answers were short and simple. When he tries to find out the source, you reply again with, "It's more complicated than that,"

"If it's not my personality, or looks, then what is it? What do I need to change?!" there's a long pause after, you then speak up, "Well..." raking your eyes below his belt. It bruises his ego. Was he really that bad? His mind began to race, thinking of the worst possibilities. He was sure now that you were dead set on leaving him. He sighs, "You want space? Fine," he twists the knife, "Don't come back to me crying wolf," with that he leaves, returning to the store.

Out of all people, Neil was the last person you'd expect to say something so insensitive. You crumble to the floor with a sob. How could he?! After everything you've been through! You locked yourself in the bedroom, mourning the loss of your relationship. You didn't want it to end like this, but it seems like Neil had no problem with it.

You drag yourself out of bed, making your way to the kitchen downstairs. As you descend down the stairs you notice a slight breeze on the first floor. Had Neil left a window open? Then an eerie feeling begins to swarm your mind. You rush down the hall to make sure the front door had been left closed. There, standing right in front of the entrance, was a masked stranger. Attempting to pick open the lock.

You stumble, falling back. You're frozen with fear, as you stare at the intruder. Hoping, praying that he wouldn't see you. He's still trying to open the front door. You make a run for it, rushing towards the living room for the phone. It rings, you answer it hoping that it's Neil. A raspy voice on the other side answers, “Ready to be my pretty little victim?”

"H-how did you find me?!" you choke back a sob. Why? Why you? Out of all people. How did this even happen?!

"I told you before, you're never getting rid of me," a reminder, of the years you've spent living in fear. You don't even notice that you've started crying, "M-my boyfriend is upstairs!" bluffing in hopes that he'd stop. Instead, a chuckle can be heard on the other side, "If that's true then I'll cut him to pieces," he threatens. Your bottom lip shakes, "Please...what do you want from me?!"

"I wanna hear you scream..." the sound of a window shatters. You cry out, turning to where it came from. There he is. The man responsible for making your life a living hell. You cry out loud, "St-stay back!" eyeing the large carving knife, "P-please...put that knife down...I'll come with you..." you were actually trying to negotiate with him. But he doesn't want that, no, he wants you to at least put up a good fight, "Run,"

And so, you did, rushing up the stairs as fast as you could. He's hot on your trail. He then decides slows down. What was the rush? It's not like there was a phone upstairs. He wants to take his time enjoying your little game of cat and mouse. He whistles a tune, visiting each room in search of a familiar petrified face. Finally, he enters the master bedroom.

He approaches the wardrobe and rips the doors open, you weren't there, then came the closet, shoving some clothes out of the way, not there either. That could only mean one thing: You were hiding under the bed. He walks around it a few times. Right before making his way to the door to leave. You try your best to muffle a cry. He made it this far, there's no telling what he'll do next.

Suddenly a pair of hands grab both your ankles, dragging you out from underneath the bed. You scream, kicking at the assailant. He brings his knife to your neck. His voice sounds almost amused, "Your boyfriend can't save you now..." that's when the waterworks begin. If Neil were here, he'd protect you with his life. You begin to cry, "Neil...Neil..." sobbing out his name.

The man in the mask mimics you, "Neil...Neil...." he taunts, "Neil! Save me Neil!" to him, it's all amusing, "Seriously, listen to yourself, dumb bitch," his gloved hand digs into your neck. He enjoys watching you squirm beneath him. He grins his crotch against your mound, groaning at the sensation, "M'gonna fuck you stupid..." he's waited for this moment for a long, long time, "Imagine how he'd feel knowing that his girl got fucked," He held the knife to your throat, thrusting his hips forward just to see you squirm. He leans in, "You're going to let me use this pussy, yeah?" only nodding harder when you shake your head. It was funny to him, how you still thought you had any say in this.

He starts to cut away, careful not to nick flesh. You could hear his breathing becoming heavier by the second. He grips each breast in hand, squeezing until it hurt. He slaps the flesh, watching in admiration as it bounced back. Fuck he's horny. He can't stop grinding his crotch against yours. Finally grabbing you by the neck he growls, "Where did you put the lube?"

"We don't have any--" choking as his grip became tighter. He tuts, "Liar, I know you keep it here," it sounded as though he were clenching his teeth. You're at a loss for words. How the hell does he know that? Your eyes widen, "H-how did you...?"

"Do you know how many times I've jerked off outside your window?" he's been a fan of yours for a while. Usually, he'd take his time indulging in that sweet cunt of yours. He loves it when you sit on his face, feeling your tight pussy squeeze on his tongue. He needs to fuck you right now like he needs air to breathe. He lets you retrieve it at the nightstand, twirling a knife in hand.

He jerks himself off a few times before adding a dollop of lube on his girth. He doesn't realize it's affect until after it kicks in. His hips buck in the air, "Fuck..." He groans. So you grabbed that bottle. He's not complaining. He makes sure to lather it all over your pussy, circling the nub a few times. That's when you really felt it kick in. You grab the bottle, only then realizing your mistake.

See, this bottle was different compared to your regular lube. It gave the user a tingling sensation. He lathers it on both breasts. You mewl from the sensation. Fuck, it made you feel like some sort of bitch in heat. You throw your head back when he starts pushing in, fighting the urge to moan. Neil groans, this was way better than in his head.

Although Neil wouldn't admit it, he's gone through some of your belongings. He's noticed your habit of browsing on your phone before getting in the mood. What was it that made you this riled up? So, him being as curious as was, decided to look through your phone. What he found surprised him, and it takes a lot to do that.

He discovered numerous erotic fantasy books, some of them were downright dark and graphic. He can't help but stifle a moan, palming his crotch as he read through them. So, this is what you were talking about? Well, if it's a fantasy that you want, it's a fantasy you'll get. He should've seen the signs a long time ago. How could he be so blind?

Neil notices the way you'd clench your thighs during horror movie. Watching as the helpless final girl gets captured by the villain. It was your favorite storyline, and you didn't even know it. But Neil does. He notices how you were always a horny mess after a real scary movie. How you'd pull the waist band of his pants down before the ending credits. He knew everything about you as a doting boyfriend should.

Neil has been there for you since the beginning, watching over you. Making sure you were safe. He keeps fucking you at a rapid pace. He slides down the mask down just enough so that his mouth could capture a nipple. He could taste the cherry lube on his tongue, swirling it around a few times before releasing it with a 'pop'. His hand reaches down to pinch and pull on your sensitive nub. He then uses the other to press down against your abdomen.

He loves it when you cry out for him. It gave him a huge ego boost. You still believe that he's a total stranger. His poor, sweet angel. Don't worry, you've never betrayed him. But see how easy it was? Anyone could just break in and you'd be helpless to defend yourself. That's why you needed him, as much as he needs you. Don't you see? He's head over heels for you.

Neil would always make sure you'd make it home safe. He even sent flowers to your door as a romantic gesture. You on the other hand, didn't take it so well. It hurt seeing you throw them away. Neil tried numerous times to court you in his own, special way. But instead, you called the cops on him. How could you?

On the day you moved away, his entire world fell apart. He thought it was finally over. Until one day you stumbled straight into his store. Neil took it as a second chance to make things right. But as each day passed by, he felt like his grip on you started to fade. He had to make sure you would always come back running to him. He didn't mean to take it this far. He just wants you see things differently, his way.

As much as Neil wanted to cum inside, he couldn't leave any evidence behind. He yanks the rest of your shorts off, emptying a load right on them. He has to wait a moment and catch his breath. That really took a toll on him. You always got him this excited. He spreads your pussy wide open, admiring the way it twitches. As if it were begging to be filled again. He snickers behind the mask as you turn your head to the side, now embarrassed.

His fingers sink deep into your pussy. He pumps them in and out at a rapid pace, his other hand vigorously rubs your bundle of nerves. You came, hard, squirting on his hand and the carpet below. Your body went limp from the intense orgasm. He chuckles at your reaction. How adorable. He carries you bridal style to the bed, tossing you on it.

He rummages through your nightstand to retrieve something. He turns to you with the device in hand. Your eyes widen at what he was holding, shaking your head vigorously, "N-no...w-wait! Please!" twisting your legs shut in protest. If you think you're going to get off that easily, think again. He's going to take his sweet time pulling out each orgasm from that sweet pussy.

It's been a few hours since then. You were left tied to the bed, mumbling in incoherent sobs, laid out in a puddle of your own arousal. A faint buzzing sound from the vibrator still going on. You were gagged and bound, heaving through a now wet fabric. Neil 'arrives' home to find the window broken. He rushes upstairs to your room. When he sees you tied to the bed, he springs into action, "Baby?!" he removes the fabric, "What happened?!" sounding as sincere as he possibly could.

It was hard fighting the urge to smile.

Your bottom lip trembles, soon a loud wail escapes, "N-Neeilll!" bursting into tears. As soon as he unties the restraints your arms shoot up and wrap around his neck. You held him close as if he would disappear any moment. You try not to choke on each breath, "I-I w-was so scared..." weeping into his shoulder. His arms wrap around your body, "Baby! Baby please don't cry...I'm here, I'm always here," He is. Whether you wanted him to or not. Neil made you a promise years ago.

'You will never get rid of me.'

Struggle

Soft!Dark!Neil Lewis x BestFriend!Reader

Word Count: +1,857

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Misogynistic remarks, Manhandling, Play fighting gone wrong.

Author's Note(s): I was inspired by a soundgasm audio

You and Neil were childhood bestfriends. As thick as thieves. He had been there for you since day one. You grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools, and eventually became co-owners of gumshoe movie store. Neil was always the one who wiped away your tears. He was your shoulder to cry on after a nasty breakup. One of the perks of living with your best friend are movie nights. You and Neil would pick out some movies to share.

He knows you love them as much as he does. His was up first, then yours would be after. You would switch the order every weekend. Neil's choice was alright, it was one of those old western movies. You on the other hand picked something newer. One of those action movies with a powerhouse female lead. You thought it was going well. That is until Neil scoffs, you turn to the side and look at him, "What's wrong? You don't like it?"

"No it's just...do you really think she could take them all down in hand-to-hand combat?" out of everything the movie had, that was his biggest concern? Your brows furrow, "Are you saying you could take her on?" now sitting up. Neil tilts his head, "Well, I mean yeah? She's a twig, it'd be hard not to win," he's dead serious about it too. You don't take his remarks seriously. It's not like he meant it, right?

That's when you felt the need to speak up, "Neil it's just a movie, and besides, size doesn't matter in a fight," when you turn your attention back to the screen Neil looks away, "Size doesn't matter?" he's taken aback. He pauses the movie, "Let me get this straight: You're confident that size doesn't matter?" he wants to test this hypothesis out, "Because I'm a lot stronger than you," it's not that Neil thinks he is, it's that he knows so, "I don't mean to sound insensitive but, there's also a biological factor,"

You turn towards Neil and raise a brow, "You're that confident you'll win?" previously, you've won the last several fights against him. But then again, you were both nine years old. He nears, "I bet I could pin you down in less than ten seconds," he wants to test out that theory. So, You decide to test it out, getting into position, "Three...two...one-" but before you've had a chance to even find solid grounding, Neil already has you pinned to the couch.

It stuns you, for a moment you were left in disbelief. How did he? When did he? It was so fast you hadn't even seen it coming. You try lifting yourself up but Neil shoves you down with a light 'thud'. When you try to sit, he does it again, only harder. This was nothing to him. He didn't even seem tired. For a moment you question yourself. Had Neil been holding back the entire time? It was almost surprising how strong he was. "C'mon...fight back, I said fight back..." Neil hovers over you. Both of his legs now straddling your sides.

He manages to trap both your wrists together in one of his hands. You try to pulling them free but his grip is unbreakable. You've never noticed how strong he actually was. Sure, he'd let you sit on his shoulders during concerts, or even lift you up in a hug, but this was the first time you've really noticed his concentrated strength. It took little to no effort pinning you down. He leans in, now face-to-face, "Do you give up?" he taunts, "Just admit that I'm stronger than you...there's no use fighting it..."

You didn't want to lose that easily. You kept twisting and turning in an attempt to escape. It was futile. Neil had won fair and square. His hands began to roam under your shirt, playfully caressing your rib cage. He brushes his fingers against the bare skin. You couldn't help but giggle at the ticklish feeling, "O-ok ok! You win!" a burst of laughter erupts from you. After a moment, Neil finally stops. He takes in the sight of you, staring at the peaks forming on both breasts. He licks his lips, ducking his head down. He places a few kisses on your jawline, then down the side of your neck, all the way to your shoulder.

They quickly turn into wet kisses, then suckling. It felt ticklish. Neil had always been overly handsy around you. Even sharing a first kiss in grade school. His hands grip your hips in a tight grasp. You grab his wrists and start to pull, but it was like trying to move metal bars. His brows furrow, obviously annoyed now. He pulls both your arms above your head before tugging at your shirt. It didn't take much for him to drag it up. He knows you detest wearing a bra indoors. He doesn't mind that at all.

You gasp, "Neil! What the hell?! S-stop!" At that moment you did something you never thought would happen. Never in a million years would you have imagined putting your hands on him. You slap Neil across the face. His hair falls down to his forehead. There's a visible red mark on his cheek. His jaw clenches. For the first time ever, Neil Lewis is at a loss for words. You scramble to the other side of the couch, attempting to fix your disheveled clothes. You look back at your best friend in disbelief.

His pupils are blown with lust. His cheeks are a flushed pink as he darts his tongue out to lick his lips, "Let's make a bet, if you can break free, I'll let you go," he captures your ankle, pulling you across the couch towards him, "But if I manage to keep you pinned..." he cups your mound, digging his finger into the slit, "I get to tryout this pussy..." he's dead serious too.

You couldn't believe it. This isn't him. This isn't the same Neil who would comfort you after a nasty breakup. Or be the first one to wipe away those tears away whenever someone tried to hurt you. This wasn't just anyone saying it, this was your best friend. He may have a reputation of being a notorious prankster, but this was taking it too far. You start tearing up, "Neil, you're scaring me..."

He snickers, playfully swiping at your tears with his tongue, "C'mon, keep fighting," he shook your shoulders, "Fight back if you don't want it," his expression changes. It contorts into a snarl as he starts tugging at the fabric of your clothes. You try to fight him off. Neil grins with delight. This was all a game to him.

It was entertaining to Neil, watching your feeble attempt to stop him. He rubs his hard on against your mound, bucking his hips a few times with a moan, "Yeah keep struggling, no matter what you do...I'm bigger than you...stronger than you..." he juts his hips again, only harder this time, "Fuck you have no idea how much this is turning me on..." his voice is much deeper. There's just something about the thrill of it that turns him on. No matter how much you twist and turn, or how hard you try, it was nothing compared to his strength.

Neil may be on the leaner side but he could manage in a fight. His free hand reaches under the waistband of your panties. He lets out a gasp, "Oh fuck..." rubbing his digits up and down your slit to collect any slickness. He yanks down the fabric with ease, taking in the sight of your folds. Neil moans, "Already so wet, yet I haven't even touched you" he clicks his tongue, inspecting your now glistening folds. His eyelids are hooded as he examines the slickness sticking to his fingers, "My, my, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted this..."

Neil lowers his head to your mound. He whispers, "Lemme just..." he flattens his tongue against your core. He gives a long stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, wrapping his lips around it with a moan, "Mmm..." his eyes are blissfully shut. His lashes flutter with pleasure as his brows furrow in delight. Fuck...you taste so good. Everything about you is so fucking perfect. Neil never saw a flaw in you. All those ex's were dumb as shit for dumping you. But no worries, he's here to make up for it.

His fingers slide in with little to no resistance. He began to pump them vigorously in and out your channel. Your toes began to curl from the angel he hit, throwing back your head in pleasure. Neil releases your clit for only a moment, "Fuck...you're enjoying me using you huh?" he teases, then returns to tasting you. He adds more pressure to that sweet, spongey spot inside.

You came, hard. A gush of arousal hits Neil's face as he sucks in your bud. He's having the time of his life, moaning through your climax. He parts, now licking his lips, "Who knew you were such a slut?" he chuckles. His cock twitches at the sight of your tuckered-out form. He's eager to finish what he's started.

Neil frantically unbuckles his belt. He lets his pants slide off, reaching into his boxers to pull out his semi-hard cock. He gives it a few tugs before aiming the leaking tip at your entrance. Neil had never been more desperate in his life to feel a woman. He's only ever imagined this moment while lying in bed late at night. But now? He's not going to waste another second. He buries his cock deep inside, muffling his moans into your shoulder, "M'yeah...just stay still and be my cocksleeve, yeah?" Neil thrusts his hips at a more rapid pace.

You could hear him choke out, "Fuck...fuck...fuck..fuck!" Neil was right. He is too strong. All you could do was lay there as he took what he wanted, staring blankly at the ceiling as he chases his high. He suckles and kisses against your skin to mark what was his. He sighs, "So good...so good for me..." he playfully licks against your mouth, parting your lips with his tongue. His hands held your head in place as he dips it inside.

After he's finishes inside Neil doesn't let you go, no. Instead he manhandles you onto his lap. You're still pierced by his cock. You could practically feel it still twitching inside. Neil catches his breath, he has an arm wrapped around your waist. He leans back against the sofa, pulling you in with him. He reaches for the remote to play the movie. Unbothered by what just happened. You're splayed across his chest with your shirt still on.

Every now and then Neil lazily juts his hips up just to feel you gripping him. He rubs small circles on your lower back, reaching down to squeeze your ass. He doesn't look away from the T.V., not even after he hears you sniffling. You choke out, "I-I hate you..." those words don't bother him. He knows you can get a little emotional and doesn't think too much of it. He places a kiss on your temple, "No you don't," he's sure of it.

Blessed Be The Fruit

Soft!Dark!Sergeant!Tommy Shelby x Maiden!Reader

Word Count: +1,620

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Hints of misogyny, Loss of virginity, Mild gore (blood), Cunnilingus, Mentions of past kidnapping.

Author's Notes: This is a one shot. It's a fanfiction that has a few ideas from the handmaiden’s tale that are altered cause it's my fic lol.

As the population decreases, the government has no choice but to intervene. Every citizen is now required to marry past a certain age. Those who were part of the military or government, were given a registry of approved wives to choose from. Often the families of the women were forced to participate. Yours was one of them. It was a week after you turned twenty when an officer knocked on your parents' door. He will inform you of the news. A husband has finally chosen you.

You read the profile of your soon-to-be husband, Sergeant Tommy Shelby. He'd served in the British army for a few years, returning home as a decorated solider. His first wife had been murdered, the second divorced. Your eyes rake down the list. A widower who'd been married twice. He'd lost his youngest daughter to an illness, his first son in a local gang's crossfire. Charlie is his last remaining heir. He can't risk losing him, what Tommy needs now is a spare. 

You remember your earlier days of scouting. Should any family find themselves under bankruptcy, their daughters will be forced into the draft. A law passed by the government to decrease the poverty line. You along with the other women were kidnapped and forced to attend months of dreadful etiquette classes.  

Training you on how to walk, talk, behave, and care for the home. In simpler terms, you had to learn how to sell yourself as someone interesting enough to marry. You were a brand, put on display for any eligible bachelors. Only at the graduation ceremony did you feel relieved. Finally allowed to return home.  

Every family that had been in the registry was part of the working class. They'd been forcibly placed in the registry because of debt or bankruptcy. It was the government's solution to decrease the amount of poverty. Their daughters would be used as sacrificial lambs. Otherwise, they'd be rounded up and forced into imprisonment, or worse. How could you say no with such a severe punishment?   

He has given you a week. A week to come with him willingly or face the consequences. It rained on the day of the wedding, the ceremony itself was cut short by how dangerous the weather became. Your now husband wastes no time dragging you away and into a car. He wastes time returning home. Tommy led the way to the bedroom. There were certain things to expect on your wedding night. A contract that now legally binds you to him.  

There is a list of conditions that the each of you were to follow. One being him taking care of you and your family, as long as you promise to give him an heir. However, many it would be. There was one last thing to seal the contract, marriage consummation. Mandatory by law, punishable by imprisonment. You remember the advice given by the elderly women who worked for the registry program. As soon as you spot the bed, covered in white sheets, your breathing hitches.   

Tommy faces away from you, stripping himself of his coat. You remove each strap and let the dress slip off. You approach the bed, now splayed in only a white lace set, relaxing on your side. You tilt your head. Now gazing at your new husband with a playful smirk. If only he knew what was going on inside that little head of yours. How badly you wanted to break free.   

A happy husband means an easy life.   

That's what the elders had taught you. He turns around, taken aback by your sudden eagerness. His cold eyes rake your figure. He starts to approach the bed. Your seductive expression starts to crack. You find yourself now trapped under his cold, hard gaze. Still, there was too much at stake.  

Appeasing your husband is what keeps the house in order.   

This wasn't just a marriage consummation, it's a test to see if your husband wants to keep you. Everyone you love and care for will pay for one mistake, and that terrifies you.  

A good wife must tend to all his needs.   

That's when he gave the orders, "Present," to which you immediately began removing the rest of your garments. A procedure all the wives had practiced for. You feel a calloused hand holding your hip in place. Both hands digging into the soft blankets below. It takes everything in you not to burst into tears. Because good wives hide their pain well. He spits into the palm of his hand, spreading the slick on his length. He starts to pump himself, tugging on his cock a few times. But only enough to get it hard.  

Tommy doesn't want to waste any more time. He presses his tip against your entrance, dragging it up and down your slit. He spits at your entrance before pushing in. Tears form in the corners of your eyes. You held back a scream, digging your nails into the bed. He places an arm to each side, shifting his bodyweight against yours. A grunt of discomfort broke from your lips. It felt like he was breaking you in.  

There's only one thing that Tommy needs from you. Tonight, he's going to make sure it happens. If not, then he'll breed you every day until you take. He doesn't want to stop from there, no. You'll give him another one, then another after that. As many as he can make from that tight cunt of yours. Just the thought of it has him moaning, "Fuck...so good for me...my wife..." he juts his hips, finding a rhythm, "You will obey me," he fastens his pace, with both hands now grabbing your hips in a firm grip, "Your only job is to give me an heir," Tommy starts to lose himself in the pleasure.

It had been a while since he's had a good fuck. His brows furrow from how hard you were squeezing him, "Fuck...such a tight cunt..." he groans, he hovers over your naked form. His body heat spreading to your back. A thick wall of muscle traps you against the bed. He growls in your ear, "It's going to be like this every day...every day until this womb gives me an heir," a promise he's going to make sure comes true.  

Tommy's grunts became louder as he was close. Sweat trickles from his body to yours, the intensity of it reduced you to a whining mess. He splays his body flush against yours. A stray of curse words escapes his lips, "Fuck...fuck so good...so good for me..." he dips his head in the crook of your neck, muffling one last moan before bottoming out. He doesn't remove himself, no. Tommy kept you plugged with his spunk. He pushes his length in as far as it could go before pulling out.  

He flips over right next to you to catch his breath. When he hears sniffling, he turns his head. What made his little wife upset? He turns you over. Your eyes are red, there are tear tracks that trailed down each cheek. Spit had dribbled down your chin and onto the bed. Tommy had a gift for reading people. It was obvious you were trying to keep a plain expression. He hovers over you now with a stern look on his face. Tommy is determined to find the source of your worries.  

That's when he felt it, the small wet patch on the bedding. Blots of crimson were in stark contrast to the white sheets below. You cower under his gaze. Frozen by fear yet still, you try to please him. But Tommy could see it clearly, and he wouldn't have it. He reaches below your knees, pulling you closer towards him. He lifts your lower half, until your bare slit is close enough to his mouth.  

Suddenly, an unfamiliar sensation has you gasping. Tommy flattens his tongue against your core, dragging it up and down your slit. He takes his time, suckling and kissing at your sex. Practically smothering himself in it as he thrusts his tongue inside your spent cunt. You press a palm flat against your mouth, muffling any whimpers that would escape. Now this wasn't something you were prepared for.  

Tommy wraps his lips around that bundle of nerves you whine. Your hole twitches with need, he'll fix that. Tommy slowly stretches the now slick opening, collecting any slickness he would need. He latches his mouth around your bud while thrusting his fingers in and out. Faster and faster, until a wave of pleasure has you arching your back. A gush of arousal splashes his chin, but he doesn't stop. Not even after you're pumping at his fingers in a vice grip. He keeps thrusting them at a rapid pace, until you've come undone again. He retreats from your drenched sex with a triumphant 'huff'.  

You were exhausted, trying your best to catch breath. All you could do was stare at Tommy though hooded eyelids. He's sporting a cocky smirk, "I'm sorry dear wife," he interwinds his fingers with yours, holding them in place, "Do you forgive me?" licking up the slick on his lips. A flush of pink is spread across his face and ears. His icy blues are now overpowered by the large iris'. You could only give a faint nod, too tired to react as he pulls you in.  

There the two of you lay, sprawled naked across the bed sheets. Your head against his chest as he brushes his hands though the locks. Tommy lets you rest for now. He sighs, "understanding now that you weren't a willing participant. All for the sake of 'societal standards'. He won't give you a harder life than it already had been. "Blessed be the fruit," he announces, marking the end of the night.  

First and Last

Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader

Word Count: +3,234

Warning(s): +18, Non con, ANGST, Domestic violence, Mentions of overdose/overdosing, Drug usage, Addiction, Forced drug usage, Heavy domestic violence, Forced breeding Accidental OD, Really long because I don't have a life.

Author's note(s): I wanted to post this before my trip. Idk if I want to make this into a 2 part series maybe if its good than ye 😃

You run into your soon-to-be ex-husband at a friend's party. He's determined to get a second chance. But some things never change. 

You met Tom in college. Both of you were part of the same friend group and would see each other often. He was persistent in pursuing you. Eventually mustering up the courage to ask you out. You said yes because you fell for him first. But it was Tom who fell harder. He was your first love, first kiss, first everything. After a year of dating, he finally pops the question. Everything seemed to be going fine at first. 

That was almost a decade ago. He's not the same man you fell in love with. Something inside him changed. There were times where you were unsure whether it was the drugs talking or how he truly felt. He would try to hide it but failed miserably. You can't remember how many times you've found his stash, which always resulted in an argument. You were sick of his excuses. It eventually got worse with his intake. He would arrive home half sober. You were sick of seeing him waste away like this. You remember finally deciding that enough was enough. 

After catching him at home for the fifth time, you decide to take action into your own hands. In a fit of anger, you retrieve his hidden stash and flush it down the toilet. When Tom found out his reaction wasn't what you had predicted. Not at all. He dragged you to the bathroom and demanded to know where his supply went. It was the first time he'd ever laid his hands on you. Instead of apologizing for bringing them home, Tom held you in a chokehold until you told him where they were.  

Never in your life would you imagine Tom of all people reacting in such a way. When you finally confess what had happened, he loses his temper. It terrified you how strong he became while under the influence. You were no match for his drug-fueled rage. Your wrist is still sore from how he held you down last week. There were bruises that were still healing for all the times before. But this one had been the worst punishment yet. He left you there on the bathroom floor, naked and sore. Tom hadn't bothered to look your way. He zips up his pants before leaving in search of his next 'fix'.  

That wasn't the first time he put his hands on you, but it was the first time you had left him. You received a string of desperate phone calls, voicemails, text messages all from Tom. You returned home to find him on his knees with a bouquet in hand and tears in his eyes. He apologized and promised to be a better man for you. That was shortly lived. When you arrived home from a late shift, you caught Tom using it again. This time it was different, you found Tom overdosing. You lunged towards him, "Tom?! Tom!" cradling his head in your hands, holding him close. It was the first time you've caught him. A part of you feared this wouldn't be the last.  

Tom had tried to make it up with sex, but you couldn't be around him anymore. You felt almost revolted how he didn't care. Having him around only reminds you of the pain. This time instead of throwing a fit, yelling, or crying. You simply packed all your things and left. What could you do with a man who refuses to change? Leave. You left for your mother's place, finally accepting that it wasn't your fault. 

The divorce papers were mailed to him. For a while now, Tom knew there was something wrong with him. He was just too stubborn to admit it. You'd spoken with a lawyer and there was a court date issued. In a few months from now, you will no longer be referred to as husband and wife.  

For the first time in years, you've finally let the feeling of guilt go. No longer were you going to let this define who you were. You weren't a failure as a wife. Because it was never your fault in the first place. Soon enough you were doing the things you loved again, even began to pick up a few new hobbies. That spark of joy began to return. You started dressing up in nicer clothes, going out, actually spending quality time with friends and family.  

Sometimes there would be a moment when you'd feel for Tom and wonder what he'd be up to. But then again did you really want to know? It would usually be the same thing, him being higher than a kite. Still, you couldn't help but mourn at the loss of your marriage. When you were young and promised to love each other until your very last breath. You still loved Tom, but he loved other things more. 

You were looking forward to your old college friend's New Year's party. A healthy dosage of socializing to get you out there again. You had the opportunity to catch up with everyone there. It felt as though no time had passed. You danced around, joined in some games, things were going well. But there was a lingering feeling that someone, somewhere was staring at you.  

That's when you spot him, Tom, sitting quietly at the end of the room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him twiddling his thumbs. There's a part of you that regrets not filing a restraining order. Tom always had a habit of showing up unannounced. You weren't in the mood for whatever he had to say. So, you left his sight, down the hall, to the nearest restroom. 

You sat on the counter, removing your heels for a moment. A groan escapes your lips as you rub both feet, knowing very well they would ache in the morning. Shit, you were really gonna feel that. You splash your face a few times, hoping that it would combat the summer heat. Completely unaware of the sound of the door opening. It was as if you knew who was behind you, turning around to find Tom leaning against the door. You gave him a glare, "Get out," you were in no mood for his emotional ambush. He ignores your request and calmly states, "I just want to talk to my wife," 

"We're not--" 

"Legally, yes, we are," he corrects. Always so condescending. It was one of the things you couldn't stand. How he would belittle your intelligence. It was the little remarks he'd make to shut down any effort you gave. He made you feel unwanted. He was the one who decided to push you away first.  

If only he could see past his own selfishness that you truly wanted to save this marriage. But in order to do so, he would need to admit that it was an ongoing problem. You didn't have to worry about a mistress, no. You had to worry everyday about finding him dead. You've caught him overdosing a few times. It eventually took a toll on you. To the point where you lost weight from the stress. Tom rakes his hand through his locks, "Of course you don't want to see me, nothing ever satisfies you," a snarky remark to try and get under your nerves.  

With the amount of alcohol in your system, it worked, "Are you kidding me?" you scoff, "Don't you dare lie to me Thomas, I tried everything, everything to fix us, can you say the same?" you growl in his face. Maybe it was the liquid courage that gave you a whole new attitude. Whatever it is helped with confronting him. His reaction, however, was not what you expected.

He smothers you into a deep kiss, pulling you into his embrace. You try shoving at him in an attempt to catch breath. Finally breaking free from his grip. For a moment, he's seems visibly hurt. You scold, "What you wrong with you?!" it wasn't fair. After all the hurt you've been through, Tom still tries to insert himself into your life.  

You deserved better. You try to shove him away. Instead, he shoves you against the wall, "Can't you see..." he presses his sweaty cheek against the crook of your neck, "You're my everything..." his voice sounding more desperate with each word. You scoff, "No, Tom, you can't do this..." tears began to brim, threatening to spill. His eyes are filled with worry, "No...now, baby please don't cry..." his expression is saddened but there are no tears. He kisses each cheek, ignoring your sniffling. Tom held you in place by the shoulders, "I couldn't stop thinking about you," it's true. You were his first love.  

Tom had longed to see his wife again. To feel her, touch her, caress and worship every part of her. He wanted to make things right, truly. But she just got up and left him. Like he was trash. What made her so high and mighty? He's so sick of seeing you always playing the role of a saint. For once he wants to see you get downright nasty with him. His breathing became frantic, "Can't you see? I'm addicted to you," there's a mischievous look on his face that you were more than familiar with.  

You place a cautious hand in front to create distance, "Tom, listen to me, you’re high right now, you're not in the right--" you were muffled by his hand, "No! No! Listen to me!" his voice booms. His sudden mood swing scares you. So much so that your nails dig into his wrist. He hisses in pain, "Stop it! Just stop!" he grits his teeth. When he releases his grip the first thing you do is make a run for it. But before you could even set foot out of the restroom you're pulled back by the hair. You fell on your back, hitting the marble floor.  

It sends the air out of your lungs. That's when you start crying, shriveling up into a ball, begging for him to stop. This was how your arguments always ended. Tom crouches down, "Oh...baby I'm so sorry..." He grabs a towel, pushing it against the bottom of the door to ensure that it's soundproofed. He then pulls you into a hug, locking his arms around your waist. Tom rocks you in his embrace, "Please...please don't cry shh.." He doesn't want to see anymore tears spill. He's thankful for the music being loud enough to muffle your cries. He lifted you onto the counter.  

You look down at the floor, refusing to look him in the eyes. Tom presses his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter shut, "Let me make this right..." he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bag, "Here... this'll help with the nerves," he swipes his fingers on his tongue before dipping it in. He swirls it a few times, coating the digits with the white powder.

When he brings it to your mouth you turn away with disgust, smacking his hand off, "Get it the fuck away from me! You fucking tweaker!" you claw at him. He's hurt by your words. How could you? He really is trying to stop. It's harder than it looks. He's tried just about anything you could name to fix his marriage. Nothing, not a damn thing worked. Every time he'd come running back to that same euphoric feeling. When you left, he started using it again, more than ever.  

If only he could get you to try it out, then maybe, you'd understand. He presses you against the counter, using his bodyweight to hold you in place. You sob, "Please...please Tommy...don't do this..." he grips both of your wrists, ignoring your pleas. He looks at you with a maddening look in his eyes. You knew he was out of it. There was always that nothingness behind his irises. To think that this man was once your devoted husband.  

He muffles your cries with a clean hand. He has an idea for the other. Tom hisses, “M’gonna make you take it, make you feel really good...” he reaches in between your legs, pushing aside the lace. Tom brings the snow coated fingers to your folds. He bites his bottom lip, concentrating on finding your opening. He slowly starts to insert them, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop. Tom starts pumping his coated fingers in and out of your channel.

You let out a muffled scream under his palm. Stray tears falling down and landed on his wrist. He felt almost bad, but you'll understand soon enough where he's coming from. Just wait and see. You'll love it as much as he does. Fuck, every vein in his body felt like it was on fire. It's easier getting hard while using, too easy. His dick almost hurts form how hard it was. He spat a wad on the tip, coating it with a bit of snow before hovering it over your folds. He presses it against your opening.

A wide grin spreads on his face, "Sh...please...don't flinch sweetheart I just wanted to feel... can I feel my own wife's pussy?" He moans. A mewl escapes your lips. Tom chuckles, he knew you'd love it as much as he does. His hands grip your neck, he doesn't know how strong he's squeezing, not while he's using. It felt nice feeling you clench on his length. He’s on an adrenaline high right now. He’s not going to stop anytime soon.

He rapidly thrusts his hips in and out your channel, indulging in the feeling. Two of his most favorite things combined. Oh, how he’s missed you. Tom picks up his pace. He leans down to plant wet, sloppy kisses across your bare neck. He retreats his lips, groaning against your ear, “I promise you I'll make up for everything, I'll even give you a baby like you've always wanted...” He knows it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to be. A mother.  

Your eyes shoot wide open as you scream into his palm to stop. Tom pops a pill in his mouth. He swishes it around a few times before forcing your mouth to open. He removes his palm only for a moment, before shoving it inside. It's too much, too much...You felt like you were flying, no, falling? Your heart couldn't stop beating and every single last one of your limbs felt like jelly. A visible vein bulges on the corner of your temple. Only a faint gargle leaves your lips, "F-fuck...T-tom...please..” sniffling for him to stop.

He coos, “M'gonna give you a baby, ok? then we'll be a happy family..." He sighs in admiration. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. Always so compliant. Don’t worry, he’s going to make sure you’ll never get rid of him, “This was mine the day I put that ring on that finger..." He finishes with a roar, coating your insides with his spunk. Tom is almost satisfied, almost. He doesn’t want to waste a single drop. He carefully removes his cock from your channel, plugging you back up with his fingers.  

Tom takes the small baggie. He coats it with your arousal. A deep moan escapes his lips, "Just hide it for me, yeah, can you do that love?" Two of his fingers are buried deep into your channel, he scissors them apart a few times, testing the waters. Then he starts to push it in. You were too buzzed to even fight him off.

His fingers have always caressed that spot you just couldn't quite reach. Tom sighs, “Beautiful...fucking beautiful...” words that he hasn't used in years. Tom throws his coat on the floor. He carefully places you on it, taking no note of the blank expression on your face. He hadn’t noticed your eyes rolling back. He pressed his head against the door to hear if anyone was lurking. If the coast was clear, he could leave.

He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before leaving, placing a tie on the doorknob to ensure no one would wander inside. Tom prepares his car for the both of you. If you were thinking of escaping him, think again. He would keep you hidden until you were surely pregnant. You’ll have a part of him with you forever. He returns to the house with a pep in his step, opening the door to find you still lying on the ground.

That’s when Tom finally notices the faint frothing on the corners of your mouth. He crouches down, “No...” he should’ve seen this coming. You weren’t used to any kind of drug. You’ve never smoked a day in your life. Tom pulls you into his arms, “No no no no...no please...” he shook your unconscious form, “Please! Stay with me!” he shook harder, “Please! Fuck!” Finally breaking down. Tom couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without you. For it to actually come true was his biggest nightmare, “Please! Don’t leave me!” He rocks both of you back and forth.

Tom tries his best to control his breathing, reaching into his pocket. He calls the one person he knows would help, "Lenn...I'm in deep shit," he chokes. Tom prays that his brother can make it on time. For years now, Lenny had been the one covering up for his little brother. He could hear Tom on the other end of the phone, “She--she’s not waking up...” That’s when Lenny races out his office in search of his twin, "Tom, listen to me, where are you?"

Whatever shit his little brother has gotten into this time, he better hope it doesn’t ruin his record. Lenny hadn't spent years in law enforcement just to lose it all in one day. If word got out that the local detective’s own brother was a tweaker, he’d have to kiss that promotion goodbye. However, Lenny isn’t going to let him get away so easily. Unlike Tom, his brother is colder, more calculated than emotional. He's always surpassed him in every way possible. Well, almost. Lenny hates to admit it, but Tom had the one thing he finally beat him at, you.  

You were the color added to his life. Without you his world was just...black and white.

Until Death (Part 2)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +2,021

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Branding, Forced breeding, Gun violence, Mild gore, Hints of misogyny.

Author's Note(s): I know this is over the top. I am on my period and only seek *violence*.

During the next few months, it had only worsened. Rafe was starting to feel comfortable around you now that his father isn’t keeping tabs. It was about time you had some marital training. From now on, no more hanging around those Pogue friends of yours. It was about time you started acting like a part of higher society. He won’t have you embarrassing him.

He’s let you get away with more than enough snarky remarks, and if you kept that stubborn attitude there will be consequences. Those days of rebellion are over now. He came up with the perfect routine to follow. As head of the house, Rafe expects certain things from you. To serve and obey like a good wife should.  

It took some time and effort but eventually you learned. Whatever it takes to ease that temper of his. You remember the first few weeks of training. When Rafe would chase you down the halls of the manor with a riding crop in hand. He wouldn’t hesitate to bend you over his lap if needed. He absolutely loved to play ‘cat and mouse’, taunting his prey before going in for the kill.

Rafe took pleasure in watching that flicker of hope burn out. When he would arrive home from a long day of work, he wants you waiting patiently at the door. As soon as he steps in you get to work, greeting him when he enters. You place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Rafe isn’t satisfied by your lack of effort. He doesn’t try hiding the obvious frown, “Sweetheart,” his voice is stern, “That’s not what I taught you,” he’s waiting for you to get it right.

When you lean in again, he wraps his arms around your waist. Rafe takes the opportunity to lift you a few inches from the ground. He places you back down with his hands still cupping your rear. He grips and squeezes at the flesh before delivering a harsh smack. Then Rafe finally let’s go. Now sporting a cocky grin on his face, “I’m starving, what’s for dinner?” he can afford a private chef but prefers a home cooked meal instead. It was his way of keeping you busy at home. He loves watching you on camera playing housewife.  

You walk with him the dining room where dinner awaits. It instantly improves his mood. Dinner was quiet. Mainly because Rafe did most of the talking. He would start with how his day was, then extensive detail of how his office life was, followed by how happy he was to be back home. You’ve already tuned him out. It took a while to realize he’d been calling your name.

By the time you’ve realized it he’s already lost his temper. He slams the dinner table hard enough to break out of that daydream you were currently in. You look up from your plate to find a very pissed off Rafe. You let out a string of apologies that are quickly shut down by him, “Don’t, not another word out of your mouth until we’re finished,” A quiet Rafe is never a good thing.  

Although you were exhausted from the multiple tasks today, you wanted Rafe to hear you out. So, you try to make up for it the only way you know how. Dressed in a seductive camisole that was hiding a lacy two-piece. As soon as Rafe spots you he’s at a loss for words. This time it was different, you decided to take charge by straddling his waist. You brought his hands to your hips before fastening your pace. Rafe stares back with hooded lids. There’s a look of hunger in his eyes. That’s exactly where you need him. Desperate and wanting.

He lifts his head to catch a breast, teasing the other with his free hand. You moan with pleasure, raising your hips faster to catch the rising orgasm. Rafe could feel you were close. His hand dips down to find that bundle of nerves. He gives it a few rubs before tugging at it. You instantly melt into a puddle of pleasure. Your head falls back as you felt the wave of pleasure hit. After coming down from your high that’s when you realize the slick between your legs. Rafe came, hard.

You were stuffed to the brim with his spunk. He held you close, gently turning the both of you onto the bed. Your head now pressed against his chest. Rafe doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t want to. He seemed much more relaxed than earlier. That when you decide now would be a good time to tell him, “Rafe…" you start to plea your case, “I miss my parents,” you just wanted some space. It was something he’d been dreading of since the beginning. Rafe knew very well you were a free spirit. It would take some time to break that out of you. He needed to make you more reliant on him. So, for the past few months he’d been tampering with your birth control.

Yet no news of a pregnancy was made. He assumes it was from stress. What was stressful he hadn’t a clue. He gave you everything. What more could you possibly want? He huffs, “Fine,” grabbing your jaw to face him, “But I’m coming along,” he’s not going to risk you falling out of line. The last thing he needs is for you to embarrass him. Tears of joy stream down as you kiss him repeatedly. He couldn’t hide the grin on his face. Not when his adorable wife was so doting over him.  

As each day passed, Rafe began to grow weary. He was nervous taking you out for the first time. His suspicions only grew when you start to pack a few bags. To his knowledge this was supposed to be a short trip. He chose the very day you were going to leave to start an argument. He'll be damned if he's sending his wife back to the cut. What if you ran away? Or worse, you running away with some Pogue. He'd grown suspicious for a while now.

It was the day of your trip. After waiting for Rafe downstairs, you try searching for his whereabouts. To your surprise, he was still sat at his desk. You couldn't believe it. He hadn't even bothered to pack his bags. Hell, he even had the gall to be upset. This wasn't fair, you were the one who was supposed to be in a bad mood.

Rafe starts, "Where is it?" he states. You roll your eyes, "Where is what Rafe?" as soon as he stands you step back. Already prepared for the worst as your hands fly in front, "Rafe..." tears begin to brim. You blink them away. It''s not like they would help. You sigh, "Where is what--" that's when he pounces, Rafe grabs you by the arm and pulls you to his desk.

He slams you against it with a 'thud'. All the air escapes your lungs. At that moment you start to cry harder. He growls in your face, "Where the fuck is it?!" Rafe had grown suspicious when you stopped wearing your wedding ring. He wants everyone to know you're off limits. You try to catch your breath, still attempting to muster up some words, “It doesn’t fit me anymore…”

“Bullshit,” "N-no! I swear! It doesn't fit me!" you're a sputtering mess. Tears and spit ran down your face. Rafe doesn't buy the act, not one bit. He wants you to prove to him your loyalty. He flips you over, pulling up your skirt before yanking down the garment. He aims his leaking tip against your folds. He fucks you against his desk, grunting into your ear a string of curse words and threats. Rafe reaches for something next to him, “You won’t wear the ring? Fine,” he picks up a wax stamp, still warm from earlier.

Still hot to the touch. Rafe presses his entire bodyweight on top of yours to prevent you from escaping. He traps your hand under his, isolating your ring finger from the rest. That's when you begin to panic, “Rafe! Rafe let go! Let go of my—“ You spot the tool in his hand. Now you were certain that he intends to burn you with it.

You thrash against his larger body, trying your best then break free form the grip he has on you. He takes the heated brand, hovering right above your digit. He then presses it tightly against your finger, ignoring the wail of agony escaping your lips. The smell of burning flesh consumes the room. A part of you wants to hurl from the stench alone.

When he pulls it away you cry harder. Rafe is in awe as he stares back at his initials now permanently burned into your finger. Fuck, he's never been more turned on in his life. Rafe thrusts his hips at a faster pace. He came with a roar, emptying a load deep inside. That's when he pulls something from his pocket. Your wedding ring. Rafe presses his lips against your ear and whispers, "Here, you won't be needing this," he drags the ring down your abdomen and past your mound. He coats the ring with your arousal before pushing it inside.

His fingers reach as far as they can go. Your breath hitches, feeling his thick digits stretching you. A whine escapes your lips. You clung to the desk for dear life. Rafe leans back in his chair, lighting up a cigarette to get a good view of his girl. He feet give your legs a light kick to part them. His cock twitches at the sight of his spunk leaving your womb. He watches as you attempt to push the ring out, evening offering to help get it out.

If the treatment wasn't humiliating enough, he would always find a way to make it worse. You turn around, now leaning against the desk with parted legs. His hands reach in between your legs. As one of them pushes a few fingers inside, the other toys with your clit. Rafe retrieves it with that same triumphant look after getting what he wants. This was the final straw. Your finger stung, you were tired and in unimaginable pain. Yet still, that spark of anger over came all senses, "Keep it, I want a divorce," with that you left his office.

You could hear Rafe's steps approaching and make a run for it. You beat him to the nearest guest room, locking the door behind. Rafe continuously slams at the door, "Don't even think about it! You're not leaving me! Do you hear me?!" Rafe screams your name at the top of his lungs. It startles you. When he starts to kick the door that's when you attempt to hide. Quickly finding a place under a bed. After a while the sound of Rafe's voice starts to die out. Hopefully his anger would subside, and this would all be over with. But all he could think of was how to get through this door.

A wave of relief is shortly lived. Until the sound of a gun firing is heard on the other side. Rafe shoots the door a few times until the lock finally breaks. You muffle a sob when you spot his feet standing right in front of the hiding spot. He calmly calls for your name, "Baby...please come out..." his voice is calm, too calm, "Don't make this harder for us," as if it would help. What other choice did you have?

You held out a hand. Rafe bends down to pull you out from underneath. He held you tightly, as if you'd disappear at any moment. He never sounded so desperate in his life, "You're not walking out on me," his grip tightens, "You will never leave me, do you understand?" he expects you to answer. Of course, you caved in, "I--I understand..." a stray tear escapes. Rafe's expression quickly changes. He swipes it away with the back of his thumb, "I love you, you know that, right?" his voice breaks, yet there are no tears.

That day you had to explain to your parents that you'd fallen ill. But don't worry, Rafe would take care of you. Through sickness and in health as promised.