krirebr - Tumblr blog

krirebr · 9 hours

Text

Beyond These Walls in Front of Me

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Andy brings you into a new part of your home. Part of the Trapped AU.

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

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here is the winner of the poll I posted last week, asking you all to help me choose the next part of this AU to work on. Of all the options, this was the one that was least fleshed out in my head, but I really like how it turned out! A quick reminder that this is an out-of-order AU, so this one is obviously after reader's first day but before Christmas.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who always tolerates me sending countless screenshots and answered my endless questions of "Is this too much? Not enough? Does it make sense??"

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

You woke up at the buzz of your wristband. Andy’s arm was slung over your side as he snuffled into your neck in his sleep. You took a moment just to breathe, to gather your strength for the day. You could afford that time, you hoped. You didn’t think it’d put you behind schedule. Then, you got up, exceedingly careful not to disturb the man who shared your bed. You had learned your lesson, there. It was time to start your morning routine.

You took a shower, and using all the products he liked, cleaned yourself thoroughly. Once you were done and dried off, you applied moisturizer to your entire body. You’d given yourself a manicure and pedicure yesterday, so your hands and feet shouldn’t need attention, but you still double-checked to make sure the polish hadn’t chipped. Then it was time for hair and makeup.

Andy liked the sort of ‘low-maintenance, natural’ look that actually took forty-five minutes so you didn’t have time to waste. You got out all your toners, primers, serums, powders, gels, stains, etc. Thank god for the wide counter and twin sinks because you needed all that room to make yourself perfect for him. You avoided looking yourself in the eye in the mirror as much as you could. You already knew what you would find there. Emptiness. You didn’t need to see it again.

Once your makeup was done and your hair was in one of his approved styles, you tiptoed into the walk-in closet that he’d left unlocked and put on the outfit he’d picked out for you last night. It was a dress. Of course, it was. It always was. You hadn’t worn pants in… well, you weren’t sure how long. Time was slippery these days.

You stepped back into the bedroom to find Andy just starting to stir. You closed your eyes for just a moment, bracing yourself, then went to his side of the bed. With a gentle hand, you brushed his hair back from his face, then placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sir,” you cooed. Your hand traveled down from the top of his head to cup his cheek, just how he liked, and he nuzzled into it as he hummed sleepily. He didn’t open his eyes though, so you slowly pulled back your hand and made your way to the bedroom door.

You held your wristband up to the sensor and the door unlocked. You knew that if you looked back, you’d see Andy’s phone on his nightstand, lit up with the alert. So you didn’t look back.

As you walked down the hall, you couldn’t help the way you sort of held your breath as you walked past the punishment room as quickly as you could. Andy had taken to leaving its door open lately, in case you needed the reminder. You kept your eyes forward and didn’t look inside.

Once you got to the kitchen, you immediately started preparing breakfast. Andy had mentioned last night that he was in the mood for pancakes, so you got out the ingredients, along with eggs and bacon, and got to work. Breakfast was the most stressful meal to make because the timing was so delicate. Take too long and it wouldn’t be ready when he came out, which would displease him. But make things too quickly and they would just sit and get cold, which you had learned quickly also made him angry. So you kept an ear open to the bedroom and hoped for the best.

It lined up well today because just as you were stacking the last pancake on the serving plate, Andy came out and wrapped himself around your back at the stove. He was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, so it must be Saturday. That meant you’d gotten to sleep in a little this morning. How nice.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, in between peppering kisses down your neck.

You didn’t shrug him off. “Good morning, Sir,” you said. “Breakfast is ready.”

He made a hungry little moan into your neck. “Everything smells so fucking good. Including you.” He finally let you go, picked up the cup of coffee you had ready for him, and took his seat at the table.

When you brought the food over to him, he tilted his head up in expectation. Without grimacing, you lowered your head and kissed him. He took control, as always, with a hand on the back of your head. The most important thing was not resisting him. You’d learned that the hard way.

Once he released you, you started to move away so you could make your own breakfast (oatmeal and fresh fruit like usual), when he grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Hold on,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Your stomach dropped. No. What had you done wrong?? You’d been trying so hard to be good! You were good. You were.

You nervously glanced at him to find him looking at you curiously. He held your gaze for a moment, then commanded, “Kneel.”

You froze, for just a second. This was new. You weren’t sure where it was going. Maybe he wanted you to keep his cock warm while he ate. You could do that. You could. You could do a lot of things if it kept you out of the punishment room.

You dropped to your knees at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes and a wide smile bloomed on his face. He gently cupped your cheek with his hand and cooed, “Such a good girl.” Then he straightened his hand and tapped your cheek twice with his fingers. “Get up, sweetheart.”

You stood up, visibly confused, and let him guide you onto his lap. He just held you there for a bit, just stroking his hand up and down your arm. When he finally spoke, he said, “You’ve been so good lately. So obedient. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been trying. How much you’ve improved.”

You didn’t need any prompting to say, “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. That’s why I think you’re ready.”

Your brows furrowed. “Ready for what, sir?”

The smile he gave you was gentle, proud. “To move upstairs with me.”

“Upstairs?” you gasped. You didn’t know how to react to that. Upstairs had always been a far-off future thing. Just do what he says so you can get upstairs had always been the mantra, but now that the time had come, what did it mean? What should you do?

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said. “Upstairs. We finally get to start our lives together.”

“I–” you started and stopped, suddenly overcome by fear. You didn’t know what was upstairs. You only knew the basement, only knew what to expect in the basement. “What do I need to do, sir?” you finally asked.

“Right now,” he said, his tone full of amusement, “why don’t you get me another cup of coffee? Then you can make yourself breakfast and when you’re done eating, clean up the kitchen. I’ll take a shower after breakfast, that should give you some time. Then I’ll bring you upstairs.”

You hated the relief you felt at knowing what to do. “Yes sir,” you said as you scrambled off his lap and headed straight to the coffee maker. Andy watched you with a satisfied grin on his face.

You turned around halfway up the stairs, Andy right behind you. “You’re sure this is ok, sir?” What if this was a trick or a test? What if he changed his mind when you got to the top and you’d be punished?

He just raised an eyebrow. “Are you second-guessing me, sweetheart?” His tone was still light, but you knew you’d messed up.

You shook your head frantically. “No! No, sir. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”

He brushed his fingertips down your cheek. “I know you will, sweetheart. Now, turn around and keep going.”

You did as he said and finished climbing the stairs. When you got to the top, you tried the door but it wouldn’t budge. You held your wristband up to the sensor but nothing happened. Oh god. As you started to turn around to ask him what to do, he crowded into you, pressing you into the door, covering you with his body so you couldn’t see what he was doing. But you heard the beeps of a keypad.

And then his arm wrapped around your stomach to hold you as he opened the door and he was nudging you onto the main floor.

The first thing you noticed was how bright it was. There were windows! Sunlight was streaming in. As soon as Andy let go of you, you ran to the nearest window and turned your face up into the light. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you swore you could feel the sun’s warmth through the glass. You hadn’t seen daylight in… you had no idea. You hadn’t been able to keep track of time down there, but months. It must have been months. Tears started to gather in your eyes and you tried to blink them away. He only liked it when you cried during sex or punishments, otherwise you were being manipulative. You couldn’t do anything that would rob you of this sunlight.

“Sweetheart,” he called from behind you. When you didn’t register that, he called your name, a hint of sternness sneaking into his tone. That got your attention and you looked over your shoulder. “Come here,” he said.

You pulled yourself from the window and went to stand in front of him. He put his hand on your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Now,” he said seriously, “being upstairs comes with a lot of privileges, but it doesn’t mean you can forget all your rules, ok? Or that you’re done training. I expect you to be just as good up here as you were down there. And if we have to go back downstairs, for whatever reason, I need you to know that it will be much worse for you. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, big and genuine and you thought briefly of how that smile would make you melt on anyone else. “You can call me Andy now, sweetheart. That’s one of the privileges I was talking about.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, the honorific so engrained in you it just tumbled out. “I mean, Andy,” you corrected yourself hurriedly, committing the new rule to memory. “Thank you, Andy.”

He cupped your cheek. “You're welcome sweetheart,” he cooed. “I am gonna miss the way you say ‘sir,’ though,” he added with a lascivious glint in his eye.

You stood as still as you could as he ran his thumb under your eye, collecting the tears that had gathered there. He looked you dead in the eye, and you couldn’t help but lower your eyes in response. “Come on,” he said, with a grin in his voice. “Let me give you a tour of the house.”

He took you into the kitchen first, of course, and immediately started extolling all its virtues, but you couldn’t hear him. And you could only see one thing. On the stove, in the middle of all the controls, was a digital clock. It read 10:37. It was the morning because of the light streaming through the windows. (There were even more in this room. There were windows everywhere.) And it was Saturday because Andy was home today and he hadn’t been home yesterday. It was 10:37 on a Saturday morning. Holy shit. Downstairs, you hadn’t had any indication of time passing other than the buzz of your wristband letting you know it was time to get up, or start a chore, or make a meal. But now, it was 10:37. And the next time you looked at it, you would know exactly how much time had passed since now. Time would mean something. You wouldn’t be adrift anymore.

You were crying. You couldn’t help it. Andy turned back to you, one hand still on one of the two stacked ovens that were built into the cabinetry as the other moved to his hip. “What’s wrong?” he asked harshly.

You shook your head urgently. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Tell me the truth, sweetheart,” he said, with that tone that said you were on your way to the quiet room, at the very least.

Your eyes darted around the kitchen frantically, trying to find an answer that would appease him. “No, it’s nothing. I’m alright. I just– It’s so much. I’m– I’m overwhelmed. I feel so much.” It was much more honest than you usually were with him, not counting the early days when you would scream what you really thought of him before you understood the consequences. But you didn’t know what else to say.

He took a few steps, closing the space between you and it took every muscle in your body to make yourself stand your ground, not flinch away. As soon as he was close enough, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Oh, honey,” he said, his tone so much gentler than before. “I know. I’m so happy to have you up here, too. This is going to be so good for us.” He just stood and held you, running a soft hand up and down your back. After a few moments, he asked, “Ready to see the rest of the house?”

You knew the correct answer, so you ducked your head and said, “Yes, Andy,” as he released you. He grabbed your hand tightly and quickly tugged you into the next room.

You absently took in the large sectional, the big TV on one of the walls, more windows, but mostly you were struck by how much bigger the living room was than its basement counterpart. You’d assumed, foolishly, apparently, that the square footage of where you’d been living roughly matched the main floor above it, but as you looked around you were sure that this floor at least doubled where you’d spent the last who knows how long. You couldn’t help the shiver that traveled through you as you wondered what else was down there.

There was a dining room and another sitting room next but you weren’t taking anything in, couldn’t describe anything about this house if pressed other than typical upscale suburban fare. It fit him. You had the sudden, chilling, thought that maybe it would fit you too someday. Soon. If you continued to become who he wanted you to be. Because you already were. As much as you’d tried to stay yourself, especially at the beginning, you felt all the ways he’d ground you down, all the ways you’d changed. You remembered how easily you’d slipped down to your knees just an hour or so before. Just because he’d told you to. You wanted to cry again, but you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t like that. And wasn’t that just all there was?

As you came upon the stairs leading to the next floor, you stopped dead in your tracks without thinking, your hand falling out of Andy’s now lax grip. The front door. It was just… right there. For anyone to use. Anyone to enter. Or exit. A thousand thoughts flew through your mind all at once. You could just run. Right now. Maybe with the element of surprise, you’d get a head start. There were hooks on the wall, and on one of them hung a set of keys, what looked like car keys with a few others. Grab them and run and maybe you could do it! But where would you go? You didn’t know this neighborhood, this town. You didn’t have anyone you could go to for help. You didn’t have any form of ID. Last you knew, Andy had all of your papers and cards locked up in his safe. And those were all the new ones he’d gotten for you. Your original identity, your real one had been destroyed. You knew. He’d made you watch him do it.

As you argued with yourself, on the verge of saying fuck it and making a run for it despite all the reasons not to, you noticed a small black sensor to the right of the doorknob, identical to the ones downstairs. The ones that your wristband would unlock only if it was an authorized time. The ones Andy controlled on his phone.

You looked up to find him already on the first stair, his gaze locked on you. Your indecision couldn’t have lasted that long. Just a few seconds, if that. But, as he stared at you, you felt like he could see every thought you’d ever had. You wanted to shrink back, maybe run down the stairs to the basement before he threw you there himself, crawl into the punishment room, and beg for mercy.

But before you could do anything, he held out his hand. “Ready to see the bedrooms?” he asked. His face was completely blank, his tone betraying nothing.

You tried to do the same, to not shake or look or sound guilty as you said, “Yes, Andy,” and took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs.

On the second floor, he brought you down the hall, bypassing several doors before pulling you into the room right at the end. It was huge, was your first thought. So much bigger than the room you’d spent the last who knows how long in. The walls were painted a light blue-gray, all the furniture – dressers and nightstands, a much darker gray. The bed was one of the biggest you’d seen, Californian King at least, maybe even Alaskan. It was covered with plush, fluffy bedding and lots of pillows, all in different shades of blue, with a light gray, stuffed, and quilted headboard resting against the wall. It all screamed luxury and relaxation. You were reminded of those home improvement shows you used to watch when you had the freedom to. They’d talk about how your bedroom should be a sanctuary, everything chosen to inspire relaxation and calmness. This was the sort of room they were talking about. You could have laughed, as all you could feel was the foreboding presence of Andy, standing by the door, watching your every move. You’d never relax in here.

You continued to explore the room, trying to act like you couldn’t feel his suffocating gaze on you. Your eyes slid over the ensuite to the two walk-in closets. You immediately noticed that there were no locks on the doors. Did that mean you’d be allowed to pick out your own clothes? And did that even matter if everything was chosen by him in the first place?

You turned back to find that he’d taken several steps closer to where you stood in the middle of the room. “I know,” he said, “that I should’ve shown you the other rooms first, but I’ve been desperate to get you inside our room, see what you look like in it.” His arms came up around you, pulling you tight to him. “You’re perfect. You fit perfectly. In this whole house. You feel it too, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said by rote, but you did feel it. You knew exactly what he meant. You fit perfectly, just like the nightstands, or the couch downstairs, all the tables and chairs. Just another piece of furniture that he picked out specifically to make his home perfect.

His hand came up under your chin, tilting your face so that you had to make eye contact. “I’m so happy I bought you,” his words chilled you as he went out of his way to remind you of your place here. “You were worth every penny.”

You closed your eyes for the shortest moment, letting yourself feel the horror. Then you opened them, met his gaze, and said, “Thank you, Andy.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki

#thank you for reading and sharing 💜#kris replies

151 notes · View notes

krirebr · 9 hours

Text

Oof, this is one of those where, as bad as Steve will be, he'll still be better than the situation with her mom! I just want her to have a break the poor thing. And Steve comes with a pool and milkshakes! So he can't be all bad, right? Right???

the girl next door 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you.

She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life.

You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above.

You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack.

You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again.

You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon.

Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you?

You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not.

You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless.

You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment.

🏠

When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back.

“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.

You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant.

“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...”

There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver.

“I made dinner,” you offer.

“I don’t want KD,” she snips.

“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.”

“Hm, wondered what that stench was.”

You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.”

“Doctor?” She grumbles, “eh... I forgot.”

She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her.

“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--”

“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.”

“I know, mom, but they can help--”

“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...”

You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind.

🏠

The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation.

After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it.

You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign.

“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?”

“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.”

You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.

As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath.

“Didn’t see him,” she mutters.

“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?”

Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.”

“Oh, everything okay?” He asks.

“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.”

“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.”

“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.”

“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.”

“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.”

“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.”

“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.”

“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.”

She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case.

“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.”

“I... I don’t...”

“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.”

“Oh, uh, okay.”

You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over.

“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.”

“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway.

She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone.

You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown.

A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around.

Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink.

“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.”

You nod and look down at the milkshake.

“Really nice of you,” you say.

“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.”

“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.”

His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?”

You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug.

“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.”

He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.

#dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #silverfox au #the girl next door #fic rb

130 notes · View notes

krirebr · 11 hours

Text

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: ~1k

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

Warnings: Dark elements, threats of punishment, implied punishment, it's dark fic but mostly by implication. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge. The prompts I used, from the Naughty list, were 23. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.” 12. “Smile pretty for me.” and 19. “No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.” Thank you for the fun challenge, Navy and Roo!

This was my first time writing for Andy, aside from his brief appearance in Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire, the winner of this poll. Big thanks to @paperweight91 for helping me figure out my take on him. This is basically just a long drabble, but I hope you all enjoy it!

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

You sat stiffly on the loveseat as Andy rummaged around under the tree. You pulled at the hem of your black, sparkly cocktail dress. It was much shorter than you were comfortable with, but you were used to that now—your comfort not mattering.

He made a noise of triumph and stood up tall, coming back to sit next to you on the couch. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package. “I know it’s a bit early, but I wanted you to open this one before we go to the party. Merry Christmas!”

You’d been dreading his office’s holiday party all week. All those people judging you, all those opportunities to mess up. You took the package and quietly said, “Thank you.”

He chuckled, lightly. “You haven’t even opened it yet. Go on.”

As you carefully unwrapped the gift, your fingers trembled, uncovering a medium-sized square jewelry box. You took a deep breath, girding yourself before you opened it. Inside was a delicate silver chain with a pendant that spelled AB in elegant script. It took a moment for your brain to catch up, looking up at him as your confusion gave way to dawning horror.

“I want everyone to know who you belong to,” he said, so softly, so sweetly. It was almost like he hadn’t just given you his brand. “Now is when you say thank you, sweetheart.” His tone was still gentle, but his eyes had started to take on that hard glint you were so terrified of.

“Thank you, Andy,” you whispered.

He smiled, his eyes softening again. “You’re so welcome, honey. Now, turn around so I can put it on you,” he said as he took the box from you. You did as you were told and turned to face the other way. He draped the necklace across your chest and fastened it behind you. His hands ghosted over the back of your neck and you suppressed a shiver. “There. Turn back around now.” You did and he gave you an appraising look. “Smile pretty for me, baby.”

You gave what you were sure was a strained, brittle smile, but he still hummed in satisfaction.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” His hand moved up to brush your cheek and you couldn’t help but flinch away from him. You regretted it immediately, but no matter what you told yourself, how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop your body from being afraid of his touch.

He sighed, exasperated, and turned away from you. “I don’t understand why you insist on treating me like the bad guy,” he said, dejected.

Because you are the bad guy, you thought to yourself, but you were smart enough this time to not say it. You’d finally learned that lesson. “I’m sorry,” you said, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away.

“If you were sorry, you’d stop being so ungrateful! No one else is gonna take care of you like I do.”

You nodded quickly. You needed to placate him and do it now. “I know! You take such good care of me. I know that.”

He stood up and turned on you with his hands on his hips. “Do you know that? Because you don’t show it. It’s not how you act. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

The way he loomed over you made you want to cower, but you did your best to control your body. That would only make things worse. You had no idea how to respond. Another apology would only make him more angry.

He looked at you expectantly, but at your silence, he just sighed again, running a hand over his beard. “Maybe we need to continue this conversation downstairs.”

You sprang up at that and threw yourself at his feet. Not that. Anything but that. “Please, no, I’m sorry, I’ll be better. Please, no. We don’t need to go downstairs.”

He bent over to grab your arms and lift you off your knees. “That’s good,” he said softly, back to being gentle with you. “I don’t want to go down there, either. You know I don’t. I just want you to be good for me. Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner. At the memory, you couldn’t help but go weak in his arms, letting him hold you, taking any comfort you could get. “I just want to have a perfect Christmas with you, sweetheart, show you how much I love you. I need you to stop resisting it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words falling out of you, too scared to think of anything else. You blinked back your tears, not wanting to ruin your mascara or get his dress shirt wet. He wouldn’t take kindly to being late to the party after all this.

He rubbed a gentle hand down your back. “Shhh,” he cooed. “You’re ok, you’re fine.” After another moment, he pulled away from you, looking you up and down. “Now,” he said, “take a deep breath and get yourself together. We’re going to go to the party and have a nice time, aren’t we?” You nodded, hurriedly. “Then when we get home, you can show me exactly how sorry you are, how grateful you are. Good?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said, quietly. You couldn’t make your voice get any louder.

He stepped back into your space and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. He kissed you slowly, languidly. You let him. You had to. You matched his movements with your lips as much as you could, but he never cared too much how passionate the kiss was on your end as long as you didn’t resist him. As long as he was in control. He pulled back and stroked his thumb down your cheek. This time you didn’t flinch away. “That’s right. There’s my good girl. Come on, go touch up your lipstick. We don’t want to be late.”

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling

#thank you for reading and sharing 💜#kris replies

365 notes · View notes

krirebr · 12 hours

Text

Welcome to Your Life

Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.75k

Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @saradika

We're All Monsters

Masterlist

A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵

This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.

Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.

As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!

You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.

You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.

Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.

“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.

“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point.

“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”

“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense.

He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried.

One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.

The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated.

He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”

Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”

He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.

“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.

The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”

She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”

He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”

You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.

“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.

Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.

The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her.

You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be.

These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?

There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.

Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.

.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad.

More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.

You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him.

Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.

“Shit,” he breathed.

“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”

“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”

You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”

“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.

Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”

“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.

He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.”

You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point.

Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”

You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???

But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room.

It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”

“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.

“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.

Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.

It was the most luxurious shower of your life.

When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you.

Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you–

“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.”

You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”

He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”

You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over.

“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”

The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?”

You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”

And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.

“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”

He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.

“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.

“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time.

He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger.

His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back.

“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking.

Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip.

You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @femefetalelevelingup

#thank you for reading and sharing 💜#kris replies

300 notes · View notes

krirebr · 14 hours

Text

Hahaha, me too! 😈

Poor reader's really going through it 🥺

Trapped AU Masterlist

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

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

Caught Up in Your Trap

You spend your first day in your new home.

Beyond These Walls In Front of Me

Andy brings you into a new part of your home.

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas

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

Continuing AU

#thank you for reading and sharing 💜#kris replies #comment reblog

336 notes · View notes

krirebr · 16 hours

Text

Trapped AU Masterlist

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

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

Caught Up in Your Trap

You spend your first day in your new home.

Beyond These Walls In Front of Me

Andy brings you into a new part of your home.

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas

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

Continuing AU

#thank you for sharing 💜#kris replies

336 notes · View notes

krirebr · 18 hours

Text

Trapped AU Masterlist

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

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

Caught Up in Your Trap

You spend your first day in your new home.

Beyond These Walls In Front of Me

Andy brings you into a new part of your home.

I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas

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

Continuing AU

#thank you for sharing 💜#kris replies

336 notes · View notes

krirebr · 1 day

Text

Oh. Huh. That's probably just a glitch. Nothing to worry about here! 😇😈😇

Whoops! Accidentally, suddenly, working on IKISKB 6. I'm sure everything is going just fine for those two crazy kids. 😈

10 notes · View notes

krirebr · 1 day

Text

Whoops! Accidentally, suddenly, working on IKISKB 6. I'm sure everything is going just fine for those two crazy kids. 😈

#i know i should know better #curtis everett #kris tries to write #kris loves angst