Tumgik
#dark!fic
rigorwhoring · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
SHOULD’VE BEEN A SON, pt. 2
MDNI, corrupt cop/dad!leon kennedy x fem!reader
word count. 3.1k
cws. daddy-daughter incest, noncon, somnophilia, revenge porn, aftermath of past noncon, reader gets recorded, p in v, unprotected, blackmail, leon somehow gets worse, mentions of police corruption, victim-blaming, overstim
note. i will repeat what i said on pt. 1 — you are responsible for what you consume. nobody is forcing you to read (appropriately tagged) fanfiction that grosses you out. anyway, it’s been rlly fun plotting out a series!! kind of deranged but fuck it we ball!!
tags. @bunnyclaire, @leonseyeliner, @sqiim, @xoxostarlet, @d10nyx, @ressespearlz, @shiawaseorii, @wherenymphsroam, @localkiss (i adore each of you omg)
index. [pt. 1] [pt. 2] [pt. 3] [pt. 4] [pt. 5] [Bonus]
Tumblr media
You were fucked. Thoroughly, resolutely, incurably fucked.
It came to you in the shower, somewhere between the scalding water and your stinging skin. Should’ve been immediate — but your head was spinning something horrible. Felt like you were being waterboarded. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him — no matter how self-preserving the RPD was, fucking your own daughter into the floor was a bit of a bad look.
You scrubbed your skin till it hurt to touch, and then for a few minutes after that. Scrubbed till you saw blood. The blood was good — the blood meant that you’d purged his touch from every bruise, denied him further entry into your body. Your lower belly ached something terrible — couldn’t he have been more careful? If he was gonna rape you, couldn’t he have taken care not to jam his cock against your cervix half the time?
Rape. That’s what had happened. You froze as it settled. Rape had been news reports mama switched the channel from when you were little. The mention that made your brows knit together in compulsory pity. The word that made everyone in the room stiffen up a little, including you. But now, it applied to you, too. Your mind instinctively tried to climb somewhere higher from it. Anything to avoid being a victim. Anything to avoid that label of helplessness, that incessant reminder that recovery couldn’t erase the past. You’d always be a victim, now. No matter how much you screamed, no matter how much you plead, he’d taken away the right to honest denial.
Begrudgingly, you shut off the shower. Had you thinking a little too hard. You grimaced as the biting air hit your skin, bringing forth what he’d done. So many of your marks were far smaller than they felt. You supposed it was mostly internal, wrapping a fluffy towel around yourself for warmth — when you suddenly caught sight of your face in the mirror. Between the bruising around your nose and the tear burns beneath your eyes, you looked just as you’d remembered mama. It took everything within you not to break the mirror right there — realizing the pattern your life was falling into was the last thing you needed right now. But seven years of bad luck and whatever your father decided to do to you over the mirror seemed shittier. You grimaced, huddling into the towel for comfort, and scurried back to your designated bedroom.
You glanced at the clock as you tugged on a fresh pair of clothes, silently reminding yourself to burn the previous. Two hours later than you’d expected. You’d been in that agonizing shower for over two hours, unable to process it to begin with. But, hell — at the expense of your comfort, you’d racked up your dad’s water bill a little.
Yeah, fuck you, dad. You raped me, so now that water bill’s gonna make your wallet hurt. Not as much as it hurt when he choked you. When he used you like a goddamn fleshlight. The more you thought about it, the more your gloating looked pathetic. Shuddering, you tried to curl up in bed, like your blanket was going to protect you from a trained cop. Like you still had any power left.
Tumblr media
Ten days, ten sleepless nights, and countless bouts of panic passed from the incident.
Life trudged on, somehow. You’d never been much of a socialite on campus — you weren’t going into debt for a country club, after all. Sleep didn’t come the night you were assaulted, or the nights that followed. When it did, it was fleeting. Scared of gracing you with its presence, of letting you bask in a moment of relief. Deprivation led you to avoidance and lethargy — but when you were presented with a 42% on a science exam, you knew that something had to be done. Thus, insomnia led you to the nearest drugstore. Emptied your pockets of cash and filled them back up with over-the-counter sleeping pills.
In part, you blamed your social circle, too. When you sent an intentionally vague message, begging for a temporary place to stay, nobody took you in. You saw through the excuses — their boyfriends came over on the regular. Practically freeloaded. It’d been going on for ages. You wished you could testify on if they’d changed, but after moving back home, you’d been largely cut off. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe you’d gotten a little off-putting since your father sexually assaulted you. If the latter was the case, you were happier. Thank God they’d cut you off before you’d given them a piece of your mind.
Still, newfound isolationism had done nothing for sleep — and now, you had no friends or family to call. Just half a grieving mind and an ample dose of paranoia. Your father was still taking the same patrols, lately — you’d jotted each time he’d come home down in the back of your textbook, snapping the lock shut the second his boots resounded down the hardwood. Something in your mind insisted that rape was inevitable, but you were doing everything in your power to prevent it. Safety at the slight cost of your wellbeing. Made you grimace when you thought about it.
“Fuck this,” you muttered after reading the same sentence for the seventh time. You’d gotten through a solid three paragraphs. Productive day. Time to treat yourself for it. You shuffled a couple of the bottles you’d picked out, dumping out three pills from one and one pill from the other. If this made you feel like you’d contracted the plague, at least it’d be an extremely relaxed plague. You popped them into your mouth and curled up into bed, gently humming with the relief that followed. Tomorrow, you’d keep searching for an adequate job. For an affordable motel. You’d make it out of here, soon.
Tumblr media
No click.
Leon’s brows knitted together in confusion as he stepped through the door. For the past ten days, he’d heard the hurried thuds of your footsteps once the front door creaked open, followed by the resounding click of your lock. But tonight, he was greeted by silence. A few tentative steps down the hallway didn’t reap any better results.
Being a cop meant adopting hypervigilance, and being a sick bastard meant getting good at it. He’d been observing the little facets of a situation you were just starting to pick up on for decades. Hell, maybe you should be thanking him — you weren’t the spoiled brat he’d largely ignored anymore. It didn’t get much worse than him, so there wasn’t much reason for you to end up surprised when you wound up assaulted in an alleyway. You’d stand up, press the wrinkles out of your skirt, and stumble away — hoping some scumbag didn’t knock you up.
Regardless, he found himself at your door, gingerly testing the knob. Your likeness had started to resemble a stray cat’s around him. Hell, a mouse, even. You practically ran away at the mere sight of him. So when the knob turned, cracking open the door, his eyebrows raised in surprise. But he wasn’t one to stop the crack from widening, raising his rough palm to push the wood aside.
There you were — the daughter who’d made herself scarce often enough to wipe her face from his memory. He remembered the tears, sure. The way they clung to your lashes. The little cries that went muffled by the carpet. But the shape of your nose and the pout of your lips had gotten a little muggy. Felt like some sort of karma — you were pretty enough to make his cock jump. Maybe that’s what God bestowed upon him for treating you like a whore. Forgetting his baby’s face.
It was a fine price to pay, he decided, stepping over to your bed. He kept the tapping of his soles light on the carpeted floor, wanting to take advantage of your inevitable groggy state — when he saw the bottles on the counter. You’d fucked with some sleeping pills. He had a decent idea of how many, given the fact that you were still alive and seemingly well. But that number differed — the lower dosages let you fall asleep, but it was the higher ones that kept you there. He grazed your forearm as a litmus test — nothing.
Nudging your forearm again with a bit more intent, he forced a chuckle back down his throat. You slept like a doll. Forcing women to their knees on the side of the road had been an acquired taste — their cries had taken even longer to internalize into something arousing. But having a warm body, benign to his touch and splayed before him, was a delicacy of sorts. One his treatment of women didn’t often allow him to be served. Unfortunately, you’d remained in his house, and he was due for indulgence.
Palming his pocket, he unlooped his belt with one hand and retrieved his phone with the other. Revenge porn felt a little classier back when it was on digital. But practically mattered, unfortunately, and he needed every pixel of your body he could get — and the fastest way he could, hypothetically, spread it. It wasn’t that you’d done anything wrong recently. Quite the contrary. You’d been good and quiet, and you needed to stay that way. You were a smart girl. A headstrong girl. Sometime soon, you’d get the nerve to leave — and sometime soon, you’d need a little encouragement to stay put and keep your pretty mouth quiet. He wasn’t above zip ties, but those could ultimately be broken. Porn sites couldn’t.
Swiping into the camera, he tugged against the bulge in his boxers for a moment, stifling a groan. Something about your sleeping form had made him hard enough to feel dizzy. Precum dripped down to the base of his cock with every breath you took, pressing his tip flush against his lower belly. Sticky. Like he was in high school again. His rough fingertips padded against your thighs, parting them as he knelt on your mattress. He made quick work of discarding your thin shorts — gently prodding your clit with his index through the fabric of your panties. Your breath staggered, eyebrows slanting a little — good. You reacted like you were being fucked, not raped.
He knew that he couldn’t pass this off as revenge porn if you reacted to it like you had the first time. Sure, men from the dredges of the internet might find your little pleas arousing, but the rational population would pity you. The reaction would be sympathy — motivation to leave and join with your supporters. You had to look like you wanted it, a bit. You had to whine a little, let your lips part, pant in ecstasy. Enjoying it is what brought judgment, and as he thumbed your clit, he knew damn well how to capitalize upon that.
Your thigh twitched, triggered by some sort of nerve within the bud. He knew that he couldn’t do much — you weren’t going to enjoy this if you were awake. But asleep? He felt another dribble of precum kick against his stomach as the wet oval in the gusset of your panties grew, vulnerable and pretty for him. He pressed his thumb against your throbbing clit, failing to still it as your cunt gushed with arousal. With one hand draped beneath your navel, he leaned forward, carefully prying your loose shirt from your body. Could barely be considered porn if your tits weren’t bouncing. You shifted in sleep, and he froze in half a second — but when you settled again, he successfully pulled the fabric away, leaving your breasts vulnerable to the camera.
He gently tugged the gusset of your panties away from your cunt, stifling another laugh. Just as wet as the last time he fucked you. Just as unaware. Slick glistened around your hole as he scissored you open, nudging your folds apart with his knuckles. Shallowly sliding his index into you, he retrieved his leaking cock with his other hand, nearly trembling as it jumped with your whines. Hard to control with the cellphone’s heaviness and the way your hole fluttered before him. Leon slotted himself against you, taking a strange caution to it. If you woke up when he was this far along, he’d have to hold you down and scrap the video. Rendering this useless outside of a good lay. He thumbed the ‘record’ button, nudging his swollen tip into you.
Leon loathed fucking you gently. Every molecule of his being wanted to ravage, to force, to tear you to shreds — but he was forced to hold himself back for the sake of the video. Forced to inhibit the urges that had darkened him so dramatically. Working each inch of his dick into your weeping cunt was torture — save for the way your entire being seemed to hum with unconscious pleasure. A raw, guttural moan rose from your throat as he stilled half his cock into you, hand shaking slightly as his fingers clenched for dear life around the cellphone. Your walls fluttered around him as you whined, subconscious begging to be filled again — and, fuck, who was he to say no?
Problem was, he couldn’t stop. His baby’s pussy felt a little too good when it was clinging to him like that. Wasn’t his fault that his hips started rutting into yours, that he couldn’t control the way his cock forced itself deeper into you. Surely, this was your fault — somehow, you’d willed him to do this. You were far too smart. Far too pretty. He grunted, letting your hips raise a little as his balls met the plush of your ass, a ring of slick forming around the base of his cock. Atta girl, putting on a good show. Stay good and no one’ll have to see it.
And you really did look pretty for the camera. Forced to watch you through it for quality, he silently adored the way your skin shone with sweat. The way your tits bounced with every empathic pump into you. The way your lips were slick with unkempt saliva. Shakily, he pawed at one of your tits, gripping the flesh as he kept the camera steady. Jesus, how had he gone without marking these up last time? You’d gotten these from your mama, too — for a moment, he contemplated waking you, just to inform you of that. Just to kiss that pretty mouth to stifle your bewildered cries, to pinch one of those puffy nipples—
Before he could process where his thoughts had led him to, he was cumming, cock jumping to stuff your cunt. Fortunately, he had enough cognition left to pull out, dick uselessly prodding your clit before he came across your stomach. He tried to regulate his own breathing, camera focusing on the white smeared below your navel. He hadn’t cum this much, or this early, since his twenties. That elicited a grin.
Still, in the wake of his own orgasm, he noticed the way you writhed. The way your hips raised and fell against nothing but the air. The sex tape was good, but it would be even less believable as rape if you came, right? His cum was smeared on your tummy, but if your own cum ended up between your thighs, you’d be written off as a whore. A slut that couldn’t get raped without cumming. And, naturally, he wanted the best for his daughter, so he gently aligned himself between your labia again with a grimace. Stifling a groan, he pumped himself with the same hand, fighting tears of overstimulation to get himself hard again. Eventually managed a heavy semi — fortunately. Save for you, that was less of a given these days.
Silently gasping a string of curses, he rigidly pumped into you, his own cum overwhelming his sensitive cock. His eyes watered as you whimpered in euphoria, fighting off another whine of pain. A few things became apparent in that moment — the most important one being that God was not on his side. For obvious reasons. He’d underestimated the utter torture overstimulation demanded, struggling to keep from writhing like you had. His cock ached painfully in protest, suddenly hardening fully again within you. Your body stiffened, a bead of sweat falling from your hairline to your ear.
Leon willed himself to keep fucking you, letting out another involuntary grunt as you clenched around him. It pained him to pump faster, but pained him worse to hold out for his overwhelmed dick. He never thought he’d welcome your own orgasm, but he did — breathlessly grinning when you finally cried out in the midst of your dream, panting as your own release dribbled out with his.
Without another moment to waste, he gratefully pulled out and stopped the video. Leon muttered something under his breath as he stuffed his cock back into his pants, unbothered to pick his belt back up. You’d put the pieces together tomorrow.
But if you didn’t, he thought, eyes slowly trailing to the polaroid on your nightstand. Wouldn’t this be for nothing?
Tumblr media
Before you processed that you were unclothed, you processed that you were sticky. You woke up sore. Sore and immediately confused. Your hair stuck to your temple with sweat, and your lips felt clammy. Like you were getting sick. You sat up, groggy, silently reminding yourself to refrain from taking so many pills.
And then you caught sight of it — your shirt, draped over the headboard. Right above your head as you motionlessly slept. A cold feeling resonated next to the soreness’ source in your lower gut, your head suddenly throbbing — heart stopping immediately when you caught sight of your unlocked door.
Rapidly realizing what had happened, you froze in shock, angrier at yourself than you were at him. You had a new system in place, didn’t you? One that was supposed to keep you safe. And you’d failed to keep it in place in exchange for rest. The single night you’d allowed yourself the grace of normalcy, it happened again.
In your disbelief, you caught sight of a polaroid — prettily mounted against the lamp on your nightstand. You squinted, blood running cold when you processed the contents of the image. Shakily, you grabbed it, taking in the sight of your nude body — painted messily with your father’s cum. He’d scrawled something on the back, letters blanked in places where the pen was running out of ink.
“Remember that I have the video.”
Another scalding shower confirmed the answer to you: you were fucked.
184 notes · View notes
Text
Unraveled 1
Tumblr media
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.
Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)
Note: I hope you all enjoy this random idea.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Tumblr media
One hand guides the fabric as the other turns the wheel. Your work is slow but steady, every stitch perfect, every seam precise. Your fare may be modest and your product simple, but its quality cannot be contested. Your labour as yourself is honest and plain.
The noise of the machine is your only company. The one-room shop nestled behind the butcher’s rarely sees a customer through its door. Instead, the orders are sent from the factories, returned with the printed adverts you disperse outside their doors. The writs are sent along with an envelope of pence and shilling and you complete each with equal diligence before sending them back bundled in paper and twine.
The operation isn’t especially fruitful but the profit is enough to subsist. Enough to guarantee your independence; a small apartment just above and a pot of stew to last you through each week. This humble existence is preferable to any marriage you’ve witnessed. 
The letters from your sisters reaffirm your spinster’s fate. You’d rather a hand wheel and a needle than a brood and broken back. A husband seems to provide several jobs at once, you’ll happily settle for one.
As your hands work from memory and your head wanders from tedium, the bell above the door gives a single sharp toll. You ease the wheel to a halt and leave the seam unfinished. You peer up above the black iron machine, reminding yourself to fix your hunch as a client enters. You can’t but wonder if he may have come to the wrong shop.
By his attire, he is a class above the factory women who require gray skirts and simple stays. His waistcoat is embroidered and his jacket is pressed and clean. He is tall, locks part tidily so his curls lay gracefully. His face is fresh-shaven, square jaw with a cleft, and shoulders broad and strong. He does not share the same sinewy gauntness as the labourers with the coal-dusted noses.
He carries a fine leather bag. Another clue to his status. His shoes, another. Polished and without creases.
You stand to greet him, “good afternoon, sir. Might I help you with something?”
His answer is not prompt. He takes in the finished dresses hung by the east wall and turns to examine the rolls of wool and cotton. At last, he returns his attention to you.
“Afternoon,” his deep timbre fills the small space, “you are the dressmaker.”
It isn’t a question, but you answer, “I am.”
He narrows his eyes as he approaches your desk, the sole fixture in the space. From without, the shop is just as bare. The blackened windows offer not insight into the business, its only suggestion the sign hung above the door, though the paint requires a fresh coat.
“And the shop owner?”
“That is me as well, sir,” you assert. The presumption is not uncommon.
“Ah,” he accepts your explanation without comment, “so, you will have sewn this.”
He puts his bag on the desk, nearly knocking your shears from the corner. You try not to flinch as they teeter near the edge and he pulls open the top of the leather bag. He pulls out a swath of grey. You recognise it and he rolls the cuff to show your initials sewn within.
“Sir,” you say precariously, “is there some issue with it? Is it your wife’s dress?”
“Wife? No, no,” he dismisses, feeling the fabric between his fingers, “rather I am in search of the dress’s owner. The initial must belong to them, yes? So you would have a name for the buyer.”
“Mm, no, those are mine,” you point at the letters, “as it is my handiwork.”
“That makes sense,” he frowns in disappointment. “So you wouldn’t know who would wear it?”
You rub your chapped lips together. You find your tongue sliding over them often when you work, turning them raw with the habit. The man’s lips are rosy and smooth, as well-kempt as the rest of him. He is no factory worker’s husband.
“I might… would you take it out?” You ask.
He obliges as you pluck up the metal cylinder from your desk and unfurl the tape measure from within. He shakes out the dress, holding it by the shoulders to reveal salt stains along the skirts and unleashing a dingy smell in the shop. You wiggle your nose at the stench but worse roils in from the butcher’s on hot days.
You take the measure of the sleeves and the waist, then to the hem. You scribble the numbers on a scrap and take that to compare with your ledger. The measurements are in now way defining but might narrow it down. He keeps the dress aloft and you return to him to check the thread along the seams. A few months ago, you changed the thickness as the factory workers complained of splits under the arms.
“Hm, it is a recent purchase,” you assure him and return to the ledge. 
He lowers the dress and approaches. You snap the book closed and turn your face up to consider him once more, “why do you need to know, if it is not your wife?”
“You are very discerning,” he remarks as he folds the dress and drapes it over his bag, “I’m certain then you can surmise the woman who wore this dress did not meet a kind fate.” He tugs up the hem and shows a tear trimmed in scarlet, the colour not obvious from a distance. “Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. I’m a detective and I’m trying to identify a poor woman found not far from here. I believe it is in your own interest that I discover her assailant.”
“I cannot say for certain which she is,” you turn over the scrap and re-open the ledger. You write down three names which match the measurements and hold the paper out to him. He takes it, his thick fingertips brushing yours. “Those are the ones which align with the dress.”
“Mm,” he hums as he tucks the paper into his chest pocket, “and your name? I couldn’t make it out on the sign.”
You recite your name flatly, “it isn’t on the sign.”
“It requires new paint,” he admonishes, “I could hardly find you.”
“I am aware,” you reply. “Thank you for noting.”
He’s quiet, “being a detective, however, I did indeed put together the clues.”
Is he making a joke? You cannot tell. He folds up the dress completely and puts it back in the leather bag. The smell persists.
“What are you prices?” He asks abruptly.
“Sir, I sew dresses for factory women, sometimes a few communion pieces, but I’m afraid I don’t do much suit work.”
“My sister requires a dress,” he sniffs, “as simple as it is, I can see your work is fine.”
“I have only wools and cottons,” you counter.
“Do you always turn away business?” He challenges.
“I wasn’t, sir, I’m only clarifying what I currently do. My prices are set for those fabrics,” you explain.
“I will pay for the muslin and velvet,” he waves his hand staunchly, “you will be paid for your labour. Can you sew with more than wool and cotton?”
“I can, sir, but you could find a ready-made dress in a market boutique if the dress is required promptly.”
“I can afford the time and coin,” he insists. “You are not a talented advertiser, are you?”
You’re taken aback by his bluntness. Often, his ilk have that demeanour. It’s why you’d rather the factory workers and the fish sellers’ wives.
“I suppose not,” you agree, “I would need measurements before I begin. You may send the numbers along with the fabric, then. And I would require a style. Perhaps your sister is a purveyor of fashion magazines?”
“I will send a messenger,” he shrugs. “Thank you for your time. I shan't get in your way any longer.”
“Good day, sir.”
“Good day to you,” he takes the bag from your desk and the shears fall to the floor with a clatter.
You skirt around to grab them as he bends and swipes them up first. You recoil as he closes the blades with a snap. He examines them before placing them back on the desk.
“Apologies,” he says, “and miss,” he looks at you, “take to heart what I’ve told you today. Keep away from the allies and perhaps you may consider locking your door.”
“Thank you, sir, your concern is appreciated.”
“Rather you might just keep those close, eh,” he points to the shears and his cheek dimples.
Again, you can’t be certain of his humour. You keep a placid expression, neither smiling nor scowling. He clears his throat and runs his hand down his jacket, gripping the lapel.
“Very well then, I’ll be off.”
He turns on his heel and marches to the door. You stay by the desk as the bell rings with his departure. Once the door closes, you cross the shop. You turn the lock into place, his foreboding lingering with the stale scent of dirty water.
🪡
Despite the unusual visit, your days roll on like a hand on a clock. The thought of the woman’s tragic fate looms like a shadow but fades. You have too much stitching to do to fret over that man and his ominous words. You assume his interest in your work thereafter was wholly feigned as he does not return.
That day, you pass off six parcels to Eustace, the driver who takes them down to the stacks to hand off to the floor bosses who will parse them out to the women they’ve been cut for. You pay him his toll before he climbs back into the seat of his cart, his horse kicking impatiently.
“Excuse me, sir,” another driver clops up along the other side of the street, a narrow squeeze between the slanting buildings. “I’m in search of a dressmaker. I believe the store is tucked behind the butcher’s and…” the man’s voice drifts off as his eyes flit to the meat sellers marquee.
“Right here, good sir,” Eustace responds, “wouldn’t ya know, she’s right here.”
You lift your chin to see past the cart and spy the driver. He removes his cap as his gaze meets yours. Eustache dips his chin as he adjusts his own hat and snaps his old mare into a canter. As you're left alone with the carriage driver, a vehicle rather lofty for a block like this, you fold your hands behind you.
“Sir, you hardly look in need of a work woman’s dress,” you say.
“Miss,” he ties the reins off and jumps down from his seat, “I am sent for you, not a dress.”
“For me?” You echo.
“Mr. Holmes has sent,” he crosses the muck and nearly slips. “He said he made an appointment for a seamstress.”
“An appointment? I wasn’t informed of the time,” you rebuff. “I’ve a shop to run, orders paid for. I can’t simply leave.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Holmes made mention of a fee,” the man feels around his striped coat, “he said a deposit would be needed.”
He takes out a brown envelope and hands it over. You take it, a small weight within. You look at the driver before you pull back the flap and peek inside. A large gold sovereign sits in the corner of the paper; a whole pound. That’s at least three days work.
You hold your breath, trying to maintain some composure. If that’s the deposit, what is he offering for the rest? You slip out the folded paper within, a page torn from a fashion journal. The dress is elegant if not extravagant. You don’t often do off-the-shoulder or ruffles like that but it isn’t beyond your skill.
You fold the flap closed again and lift your chin to face the driver, “I must lock up, you see?”
“Take your time, miss,” he says kindly. “Mr. Holmes isn’t expecting you to hurry.”
“Thank you, sir,” you bow your head and turn away.
You measure your steps along the facade of the butcher’s shop and curl around to the alleyway. You let yourself into your shop and tuck the envelope into your apron pocket. You take your sewing bag from under the desk and shake off the dust. You don’t often have reason to use it.
You open it up and pack away your shears, a measuring tape, pins with a cushion, your notebook, and a few other bits and bobs. Just in case. You grab a role of linen from against the wall. It’s heavy but you can manage.
You take the key from your desk drawer and switch off the overhead light. You lock the door and continue back out to the street. The driver puffs smoke from a pipe as he waits.
“Miss, allow me,” he snuffs out the pipe and puts it in his pocket. He nears and reaches for the roll of linen.
“It’s quite alright, sir,” you say.
“I insist, miss, can’t have a lady doing all that,” he takes it, not forcefully, and you let him.
As he goes to the carriage and opens the door, you give pause. You don’t know if you should be so easily swayed on a gold coin. Mr. Holmes hadn’t been entirely pleasant and you do prefer your simple work. Still, you can hardly turn your nose up at a pound. Not with the summer fizzling to a finale.
You lift your skirts and cross the street to the open carriage, “sir, might I have a name?”
“Gavin,” he answers, “and I have yours. Mr. Holmes made sure of it.”
“Yes, very good,” you say as you approach, another sliver of doubt trickling through. Mr. Holmes claimed to be a detective but is that really the reason he was strolling around with a dead woman’s dress? You gulp and look at Gavin then the carriage, “might I keep the window open?”
“Surely you can,” he agrees amiably. “Mr. Holmes lives quite a ways, shouldn’t mind the air. I’ll be certain to stay away from the stacks.”
“Thank you, sir,” you accept his proffered hand and he helps you up into the carriage. 
You settle on the bench as the door shuts and you open the window from within. You lean back, your hand grasping the top of your bag. You unclasp it as you feel Gavin climb up on the driver’s seat. You dip your hand inside and clutch your long shears.
You don’t forget all of what Mr. Holmes said.
174 notes · View notes
lambtotheslaughterr · 9 hours
Text
Rise : Chapter Ten
A Rafe Cameron Series
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
Tumblr media
WC: 2.5k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
CHAPTER NINE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tumblr media
79 days since the world ended
            It’s been roughly a month since you & the others left the lake house behind in wake of Rafe’s invasion. The gas inn Sayyed’s tank got the four of you nearly two hours north before it became low. There was still a can of gas left in the trailer, but it would be necessary to go out & scavenge more to keep his wrangler working. Fortunately, when Sayyed pulled off the main highway, easily maneuvering around abandoned cars, he happened to pull off near a cabin. It could be seen from the road, but only if one was looking hard to see it through the trees. It would be your new home if those even existed anymore.
            The group dynamic between the four of you changed drastically. Though you didn’t feel the need to prove yourself, your warning about Rafe’s plans gave the group enough time to get away, far away. And so Nuha & Sayyed were as warm towards you as Bear had been. You were wary of their change in attitude early on but soon enough thought nothing of it as the four of you lived with one another for the next month.
            On this day, it was especially warm. Sayyed guessed it was mid-July or so, which meant that the summer heat of the south had yet to peak. The days would only get hotter.
            You were down by a pond that was a five minute walk away from the cabin. Bear was out scavenging & you were waiting by the pond for him to return. The sun was just above the trees so he would be back any minute. Unlike the lakehouse, scavenging took longer here. Your cabin was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, despite direct access to a major road. Most scavenging days required a stay overnight in the woods. But scavenging was more essential than ever.
            Food & water was low, dangerously so. What you guys managed to take from the lakehouse only lasted so long, & the garden at the cabin hadn’t yet begun to produce anything. Everyone was on edge, & looking it. Nuha & Sayyed, who were already slim, were skinnier. You could see it in Sayyed’s face: his sunken cheeks, the clothes he wore hanging more loosely off him. And Nuha, you hadn’t realized how bad she had gotten until you two washed together the other week. When she took her top off you could see her ribcage, & her collarbone was especially more prominent than before. You had been losing weight too, but you still looked healthy as could be. You hoped Bear found something significant.
            “_____.” You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of your name. It was Sayyed.
            “It’s Nuha. I’m getting worried about her.” You swallowed nervously at his words. Of course he would notice her state, too.
            “Whatever Bear brings back we’ll give her.” You told him, “She needs it more than us.”
            Sayyed sat beside you, staring into the pond water, “What if it isn’t enough?”
            You knew where his thoughts & concerns were heading. You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Can’t think like that Sayyed. She’s strong. She’ll pull through.”
            “I hope you’re right.” Sayyed replied softly.
            The two of you sat there in silence for some time until you hear the nearby brush moving. A few seconds later, Bear appeared. By looks of it, he was carrying something heavy, but there was a relieved smile on his face. You shot up & took off for him, Sayyed was hot on your heels.
            “Finally brought something good.” Bear shared as Sayyed took the heavy duty bag from him. Sayyed placed it on the ground & unzipped it. Inside was a health-nut’s pantry. Liquid IV’s, sport drinks, multivitamins. The three of you shared wide grins.
            “This is amazing, Bear!” You rejoiced, hugging him.
            Sayyed gathered two bottles of the sport drinks, a handful of the liquid IV’s, & a bottle of multivitamins, “Thanks, Bear. I gotta get these to Nuha.”
            Sayyed took off back towards the cabin, & you helped Bear carry the rest of the stuff back inside.
            “We really needed this, Bear.”
            “Better yet.” He started as you handed him items to place into a cupboard, “There’s more where this came from. Whoever lived there was stocked on nutritional shit. I can go back, but it’d be easier if you came with, ya know, a second pair of hands & all.”
            You nodded in agreement, “Yeah, we’ll go the day after tomorrow.”
            With Bear’s lucky find, your future at the cabin looked hopeful.
            But hope was a silly thing to cling to.
Tumblr media
            Nuha plummeted overnight. You woke in a panic when Bear shook you awake. You followed him to the second floor. Inside one of the bedrooms, Sayyed was at Nuha’s bedside, helping her to drink some more water.
            “What’s wrong?” You rushed out as you looked at Nuha. Your heart fell. She looked bad. Her normally shiny skin had turned ashen & was beginning to gray. Her hair was a matted mess on her head & there were beads of sweat dotting her hairline. Her lips were chapped & peeling.
            “Bear…” You glanced at him warily, “Does she…”
            “She doesn’t.” Sayyed cut you off, “It’s not any of those symptoms. She’s dehydrated and malnourished. And this fucking heat isn’t helping.”
            You bit your lip, not wanting to point out to Sayyed how deathly she looked. Her eyes were closed & her breathing was shallow. You were unsure if she was sleeping, or even aware of the conversation happening around her.
            “What else can we do?” Bear questioned, “Everything I got today is gonna help, it just might take some time.”
            “She doesn’t have time.” Sayyed forced out, his voice strained as he placed a damp cloth on her forehead. “I can keep forcing her drink the liquid IV’s & to take the vitamins but…”
            It was too late…
            But was it?
            You glanced from Sayyed to Bear, gesturing to the hallway. Bear frowned at you but followed you out. He closed the door quietly behind him.
            “What is it?”
            “There’s another option.” Your voice shook as you even dared to think about it, “It’d take longer but it’s our best chance. Nuha’s best chance.”
            Bear said nothing, waiting for you to continue.
            You licked your lips, fearful of his reaction to your suggestion, “Adrianna. When we left base, Tobias loaded us up on basic medical care shit. Real IV’s. With hook-ups & everything. Adrianna has all of it.”
            “_____...” Bear lowered his head, knowing exactly where you were heading.
            “Just hear me out.” You stopped him before he could deter you, “We leave tonight. You go back to the health nut’s house, I’ll backtrack. Find them.”
            “Find Rafe?” Bear shook his head, “No, no. That’s a shitty idea.”
            “Not Rafe, Adrianna. We need her. Nuha needs her.”
            “It’d take you days to get back there, _____. Not hours, days.”
            “I know.” You nodded, “But I won’t stop. Not even for a brief water break. I’ll just keep running until I get there.”
            “Look, under other circumstances, I’d support it. But Rafe is unhinged. It’s been a month since we saw them, they could be long gone by now. It’d be a wasted effort.”
            “No.” You shook your head. Rafe wouldn’t leave the lakehouse with all that it had. Everything you guys needed would be there, & he wouldn’t pack everything up just to move again. You felt strongly on the fact that they would still be there. “They’ll be there.”
            “And how do you know that?”
            Because he said I could find him. But you didn’t say anything, “I just know him. And, if it’s me who goes, he may let me take Adrianna.”
            Bear shook his head, leaning against the wall to contemplate your words, “And if he doesn’t? Then we lose you & Nuha.”
            “Just trust me, Bear.”
            “I do. What I’m saying is I don’t trust him.” Bear frowned, “He’s a liar, _____. A murderer. Who knows how far gone he is now.”
            “We have to try.” Your voice cracked as you tried to keep it low, “We have to.”
            Bear stared hard at you, his lips pursed. Then he shook his head, “Okay. We’ll go. You head for them, I’ll go back to the house, see what else I can find.”
            “Thank you, Bear!” You hugged him & he returned it half-heartedly.
            “But we don’t tell Sayyed.”
            What?
            “You & I both know he won’t let you leave if he knows you’re going to Rafe. It’s best we just tell him you’re coming with me to the health nut house.”
            You didn’t want to lie to Sayyed, but Bear was right. Sayyed would never take a risk that involved Rafe.
            “Go get packed. I’ll let him know what we’re doing.”
            Taking Bear’s advice, you leaped down the stairs to head to your bedroom. You quickly changed out of your loose fitting pj’s & into an outfit that would be fit for the couple day hike back tracking. Once you were all changed, you went into the kitchen to stock up on a few water bottles, the little snack foods you all had, & a couple items from a med kit.
            Bear joined you in the kitchen shortly after in a change of clothes & his own gear.
            “Got everything you’re gonna need?”
            “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”
            As you too finished gathering your things together, Bear led the way out. You two walked alongside one another towards the pond where you two would split off.
            “What’d Sayyed say?”
            Bear shrugged, “Not much. He’s scared. But he didn’t argue. Just said to be fast.”
            You nodded, “And what are you going to tell him when you return tomorrow night without me?”
            Bear gave a half-hearted laugh, “Hadn’t thought that far ahead but don’t worry about it. Just get Adrianna back here, without Rafe.” 
            You winced internally. You knew better than to think you could bring Adrianna back & only Adrianna. But Rafe did have a soft spot for you. Hopefully he’d let you two go. Alone.
            “Be safe, Bear.” You turned to him. Bear ruffled the hair at the top of your head, “You, too. And if you’re not back by the time you should be…”
            “Don’t come looking for me.” You told him.
            Bear said nothing but you saw it in his eyes. He wouldn’t. He too wouldn’t risk bringing Rafe to where you all escaped to.
            “We’ll see you soon.”
            “Yeah.”
            Hugging once more, you split off. Bear heading west, & you south.
            A full moon hung over the woods as you stared into the dark depths of them. There was no going back, you reminded yourself. Nuha needed Adrianna. And you wouldn’t stop until you got to her. Rafe be damned.
Tumblr media
            Your body was aching, desperate to take a break, but you pushed forward. Time you had little of & there was a lot of backtracking to do. You were glad you have kept track of your movements with a map, sure that you were heading towards the lakehouse. The escape from it by car had been roughly two hours, but on foot, it’d take you over a day. The only time you would stop would be to sleep for a couple hours, then you’d be taking off again.
            But ultimately, the trek was easy, if not tiring & stressful. You didn’t have time to think of a real plan to get Adrianna back. After all, Bear was right. It’d been another month since you had seen everyone & Rafe along with the others could’ve likely grown worse. His soft spot towards you may have hardened indefinitely. And if you appeared, there would be no guarantee to how he would react or treat you. You were taking a major risk. But you told yourself that if you felt deep in your gut that you couldn’t trust him, or them, then you would not be leading them back to where the rest of you were hidden out at. Even if it meant never returning again yourself. But you had to try, for Nuha.
            Your couple hour nap in the woods had been restless, sleep never fully coming for you. But once it began to get just a little brighter out, you decided to finish the rest of the trip as quickly as possible to prevent yourself from overheating in the summer sun. If you were reading the map right, you were within ten miles of the lakehouse. You’d be there by midday. So, you hiked your backpack further up your shoulder & moved quickly.
Tumblr media
            When you reached the lake, you took to the woods. Not wanting to approach from the access road. You wanted to get a view of the lakehouse before moving closer, to even see if anyone was still there. As you stayed hidden along the trees by the shore, you slowly came near to the lakehouse. You crouched, peering through the bush to observe. At first, it looked totally abandoned. There was no movement from inside or outside the house. But as you crawled closer, you did spot a truck. Rafe’s truck.
            You swallowed. They had to be here. Rafe wouldn’t leave his truck behind.
            You weren’t one for religious practices, but you took just a moment to pray to a god, any god, to please make sure you’d be okay, that you’d succeed in recruiting Adrianna, & that you would make it back to Nuha in time.
            Just as you were standing up, preparing to step out & make yourself known to anyone who may be nearby, you heard a twig snap directly behind you, making you freeze.
            “Who the fuck are you?”
            You cautiously raised your hands, showing that you were not a danger. But you didn’t dare look behind you.
            The person behind you stepped closer, & you didn’t mistake the feel of the muzzle of a gun getting pressed against your shoulder blade.
            “I said ‘who the fuck are you’?” You didn’t recognize the voice though. This was bad.
            You fluttered your eyes closed, licking your lips, “I’m here to see Adrianna.”
            “Adrianna?” The voice sounded suspicious, “How the fuck do you know Anna?”
            This person was calling her Anna, too?
            “We’re friends.” You replied softly, “At least I hope we are.”
            Slowly, the person behind you circled to your front, & you finally faced with the man who was holding a gun to you.
            You briefly recognized him as one of the men who was with Micah down by the shoreline that one day over a month ago. This was not a friend, not someone you could trust.
            The man was rugged, the bags under his eyes prominent. He looked you from head to toe, clearly untrusting of you. When he finally met your eyes again, he smirked haughtily, “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
            You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the butt of his gun came flying towards you. And the next thing you knew, you were swallowed by darkness.
Tumblr media
i apologize in advance for the late update. there has been a lot on my plate in my personal life that i'm still currently dealing with, but i wanted to at least get this filler chapter in. it's a small one & pretty rushed tbh because my head wasn't fully in it, but i hope it is adequate.
as always, please share your thoughts w me via comments, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. they help more than you know.
thank you for reading!
beau<3
Requests are currently CLOSED.
Tumblr media
Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.
[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]
taglist: @jsrafesgirl @namelesslosers
if you want to be added to a tag list: follow my blog, interact with the work you want to be tagged for regularly, & follow the requirements to be added which you can find on my pinned post.
23 notes · View notes
blondwhowrites · 1 day
Text
A/N: Here you go loves. This is low-key a crack-dark fic. Also, Rafe is a dark asshole in this, so be aware.
TW for attempted assault, mention of sexual actions, and language. If any of this bothers you THEN DO NOT READ. If I missed any triggers please let me know in the comments. I REPEAT THIS CONTAINS SOME DARK THEMES SO DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE DARK SHIT
Rafe Cameron was a douchebag, and you'd die on that hill. From his stupid face to his weird-ass khaki shorts, he was a douchebag. You had also concluded that he was not sane because no sane man acted the way he did. You would also mention the obvious daddy issues, but everyone and their parents knew about that.
All you had wanted to do was have a nice time with your friends at some weird kook party Sarah had dragged you to. You'd done your makeup AND put on a cute little outfit. Usually, partying wasn't your thing. You didn't drink or do drugs because, unlike others, you wanted to live till your fifties. But in rare moments, sometimes you just wanted to dance the night away and down several bottles of Sprite.
But anyway, back to the main issue at hand.
"Hey! Get your hands off of her asshole!" You hissed, grabbing Rafe's arm and roughly pulling him away from the helpless girl. One moment you had been getting another sprite for yourself, and the next you had seen Rafe practically manhandling a poor girl who had seemed extremely uncomfortable. You knew the look in that girl's eyes—the look of fear. 
You turned to the girl, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Hey, are you okay?" you asked softly. You reached out, gently gripping her shoulders and checking for any sort of bruising. 
"This isn't any of your business, princess." Rafe hissed, his jaw clenching. 
Gently reassuring the girl, you shooed her off, seeing that her friends had arrived to help her away. You turned to Rafe, absolutely livid. "What the fuck were you going to do to her?"
He rolled his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his fucking KHAKI shorts, he shrugged. "Nothing she wouldn't have enjoyed," he answered.
That fucking asshole. You felt relief knowing you had noticed what had happened. Any later, and you didn't even want to think about what the poor girl would've gone through. "I knew you were sick, but I didn't know you were this vial of a human being." You spat, disgusted. "And I told you to stop calling me princess."
He chuckled, seemingly unaffected by your vile words toward him. He even looked amused, which sickened you to your core, no not that core you fucking pervert.
"I'll call you whatever I want, princess," Rafe said, leaning forward. His eyes narrowed at you. "Besides, you owe me one now, seeing as though you ruined my night of fun." 
His hand shot out, wrapping around your bicep. Your eyes widened, yelping as you were suddenly pulled through the crowd. "Let go of me!" you demanded, trying to pry his hand off of you. It was clear to see now that you had pissed him off, and a pissed-off Rafe was a dangerous Rafe. 
You hoped that Sarah, wherever she was, was having a much better time at this party than you were
Passerbys gave you odd stares as you were forcibly dragged through the crowd further into the mansion-like house. Of course, those rich assholes didn't even think to help you. The further away you got, the fewer people you saw mingling in the hallways. This must've been his friend's house. You faintly remember Sarah mentioning that the person throwing this party was Topper.
You tried to tug yourself out of his death grip on your bicep, but his hand only tightened his grip causing you to wince. That would certainly bruise.
"You know, princess," Rafe began, stopping in front of a door, throwing it open, and shoving you inside the room. "You've been a pain in my ass since your pretty little ass stepped foot on this island." 
You stumbled into the room, trying to regain your balance before you could fall. Your eyes darted around the room frantically. It was an office. 
"I think someone needs to learn that actions have consequences." Rafe's voice cut through the room. He stalked towards you, and for the first time since you had met him, you were scared of him. You had seen what he was capable of doing when he was angry. You didn't want to know what he had planned for you. 
He drew his lower lip between his teeth, smirking, his eyes raking you up and down. The action made you want to gag. He was looking at you like a piece of meat. You gulped, backing away from him, as he continued to stalk towards you. "It's not my fault you are crazy!" You hissed at him, glaring at him warily. 
He frowned at that, and you winced, knowing you had only managed to piss him off more. Your back hit the wall, and you internally groaned. You were cornered and completely defenseless. You sent a quick prayer to whatever was out there.
Rafe's hands slammed into the wall beside both sides of your head, effectively trapping you between his body and the wall. His body pressed against yours, and once again, you resisted the urge to gag. 
"Woah, buddy, have you ever heard of the saying, Leave room for Jesus?" You nervously joked, both hands coming up and trying to push him away. He didn't budge.
Instead, he rolled his eyes, leaning down to be at eye level with you. "You'd be a whole lot prettier if you kept your mouth shut." His hand brushed against your cheek, and you shuddered. 
"And you would be a whole lot more handsome if you weren't such a douchebag." You retorted once again, trying to shove him away. "Now get your disgusting hands off of me." 
Rafe caught your hands before they could shove at his chest again. His grip on your wrists was tight as he pushed them against the wall, pinning them down. "Such a brat," he tsked, his jaw clenching in unspoken anger.  "Maybe I can fuck that attitude out of you. I wonder what your Pogue friends would think if they saw you bent over that desk for me. Maybe I'll take a picture and send it to them."
The moment those words left his mouth, all the fear you had once felt faded away, replaced with an unbridled rage.
Oh, hell no.
Your knee jerked up, connecting to his crotch. Rafe stumbled away from you, his hands immediately releasing you to go cup his crotch in pain. His face scrunched up, and he hissed.
If only you had your phone so you could capture this moment. 
Your hands fell to your side, clenching and unclenching. "I swear to fucking God if you ever touch me again, I will gut you like a goddamn fish and dump you in the creek to rot!" You spat, storming up to him. You grabbed his collar, dragging him down until he was at eye level with you. His eyes widened, staring at you in a rare moment of disbelief. 
You balled your fist and punched him square in the face. Your fist would bruise later, but you didn't care. It was worth it as you watched him stumble to the ground with a loud thud. 
You stood over him, lips curled back in a snarl. "I will end you, Rafe." You warned, glaring down at him. Then your lips curled up in a smile, bowing at him dramatically. You scurried out of the office, going back to the party, to find Sarah. 
And the only thing going through Rafe's mind at the moment was a single thought. 
"She's mine." 
29 notes · View notes
perlelune · 4 months
Text
no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | Masterlist
Tumblr media
Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Tumblr media
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
Tumblr media
𝔦.
𝔦𝔦.
𝔦𝔦𝔦.
𝔦𝔳.
𝔳.
𝔳𝔦.
𝔳𝔦𝔦.
𝔳𝔦𝔦𝔦.
𝔦𝔵.
𝔵.
𝔵𝔦.
𝔵𝔦𝔦.
Tumblr media
Drabble #1
3K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 1 month
Text
captive
Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
Tumblr media
summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.
if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.
word count: 1.4k
a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.
Tumblr media
It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.
It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.
Loud. Much too loud.
You roll over, settling yourself on your side.
The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.
You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.
Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.
He always gets the room with the bed.
As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.
It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.
He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.
You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.
Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.
Tumblr media
Sleep doesn’t come.
His absence is starting to bother you.
You’ve been with him for an entire season now.
You’re getting used to him.
The sound of his voice. 
The warmth of his body.
The taste of his lips.
You can’t even sleep without him next to you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.
How was it possible? How could you be missing him?
He had taken everything from you.
Your family.
Your home. 
Your innocence.
He was holding you captive. He was a monster.
But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.
Doesn’t clothe you.
Doesn’t feed you.
Doesn’t protect you.
He did all of those things and more. 
Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?
Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?
You fucking hated him for what he’d done.
Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.
Tumblr media
It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 
Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.
“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.
“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”
You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.
His worn leather boots being kicked off. 
His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.
“How was the hunt?”
You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.
Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.
When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.
There’s a swoop in your tummy.
Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.
He’s got such a handsome face.
Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”
Of course you weren’t.
Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.
When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.
He takes care of you.
“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”
It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.
You’re being sweet to him.
He clears his throat lightly.
“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”
He’s not just talking about food and you know it.
You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.
Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.
“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”
With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.
You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.
“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”
The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.
“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”
Surprised, he turns around.
Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.
Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.
“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 
“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”
His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.
“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.
It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.
Now your heart was starting to do the same.
And then there was your mind.
What if that stopped fighting him too?
Part of you is afraid it already has.
Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.
“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”
“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.
Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”
He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.
“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.
“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”
Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.
You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 
And you shouldn’t be. 
He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.
You choke out a sob.
It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.
That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.
“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”
He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.
“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.
Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.
“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.
That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.
You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.
Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.
Tumblr media
divider credit to @saradika🤍
1K notes · View notes
duchesstypewriter · 5 months
Text
𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑵' 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬
PAIRING: Ghostface!Theodore Nott x Reader
SUMMARY: A killer is on the loose at Hogwarts and he has his eye on a prize, or victim — you.
WORD COUNT: 4K
WARNINGS: MDNI! NonCon/DubCon. Oral sex (male receiving). Death threats. Degradation. Breathe play. Physical violence. Dacryphilia. Reader's POV. It's really twisted so don't read it if you're uncomfortable.
A/N: It's the first time I've written dark content, my opinion is that it turned out pretty good. The title is inspired by the Def Leppard song of the same name.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A dark aura had covered Hogwarts ever since the horrific murders began to haunt the hundred-odd stone corridors, a mysterious and suffocating tension taking over the once magical atmosphere of the school. What was once a place of enchantment and wonder had quickly turned into a land of fear and distrust directed at each other.
The usual laughter and carefree conversations were replaced by hushed whispers and nervous glances over the shoulder to make sure no one was following behind, and any stare longer than deemed necessary was grounds for speculating that someone was the mysterious killer.
Walks around the castle were no longer unrestricted, with teachers forced to accompany students after classes and to the dorms at the end of the day, always with their wands in hand, wondering if the next victim was someone they knew.
But the most suspicious and unnerving part was that the killer didn't usually use magic in his attacks, but seemed to enjoy stabbing his target multiple times. It didn't take long for the whisper that the sicario must be a muggle-born to spread, leading to even more hostility towards the group, but you just figured that the evildoer had finer points of cruelty than a quick spell could solve.
In any case, you kept a considerable distance from everyone since the attacks began to persist, carefully scrutinizing any interaction you had, even with the teachers, and that's why you didn't doubt that Professor Sprout could jump out of a bush with a knife in her hand at any second to gut you to death — maybe you were such a good student that she was afraid you'd steal her job one day, as if you'd want to lead such a boring subject, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be more useful, but it wasn't as if teachers needed the help of a maniac to get killed or fired.
Still, it was extremely suspicious that she had left you alone in the greenhouse to pick up some supplies for the Venomous Tentacula, you thought it was quite appropriate for a premonition if she was indeed the killer, but when she took much longer than necessary to return and night descended on the school grounds, you knew you had to get out of there as soon as possible and that was exactly what you were determined to do, taking long, quick strides, but trying not to attract attention until you reached the not-so-safe, but still better than the dark, bare grounds of Hogwarts.
You were close, everything was fine, nothing would happen, no one would dare lay a finger on you, not with your parents being who they were, they would kill the culprit before he could hurt you, were the not-so-comforting affirmations you repeated in your head with every step towards the castle, the sounds of your well-polished shoes echoed eerily in the stillness, and every distant rustle or flickering shadow only helped to intensify your paranoia.
The distant snap of a twig that you wouldn't have heard otherwise if it hadn't been for your heightened senses made you turn your head quickly towards the trees that were swaying their leaves quietly as if taunting you, but there was no one in the darkness, and you pulled your cloak tighter against your body, hurrying your steps even though it felt like you couldn't move.
The icy breeze seemed to whisper secrets that only it could understand, and when one like a soft, mocking laugh reached your ears, a shiver ran down your spine, your heart racing in your ribcage at the same time as your pupils dilated in a clear response from your sympathetic nervous system that was preparing you to flight or fight, but it was when you turned your gaze in the direction of the castle that your mouth went dry and your eyes glazed over, but it only took a few blinks to be sure that it wasn't a figment of your worst dreams.
Standing a few meters away from you was an image that would surely be conjured up as your own boggart if you were lucky enough to survive the night. The rest of its broad and tall body seemed to blend into the shrouding darkness that insisted on covering the field, but the white mask seemed to radiate sadism directed solely at you, its eyes, piercing the obsidian void, fixed on you with a disturbing intensity, it was a presence that exuded evil.
The world seemed to freeze in that sinister moment, the desolation of the uninhabited field amplifying the pure dread that coursed through your veins like an injectable drug that was pumped harder with every beat of your frantic heart. The much-dreaded encounter moved from the realm of speculation to horrifying reality, leaving you paralyzed in a nightmarish standoff with the embodiment of your darkest fears.
“Well, well, my dear,” a voice boomed in your mind, making you shudder from the sudden headache that afflicted you. “It seems we've finally met, I've been looking forward to this moment, haven't you? You look so deliciously terrified.”
Your breathing became ragged, a little from the pain of each word, but also from the implication that he was watching you, you would be his next victim, there was no escape, “Who... Who are you? What do you want?”
The questions that left your trembling lips were empty and trivial, even idiotic, it was quite likely that the other victims had asked the same thing before being brutally butchered, but they were the only things your mind could think of, trying to buy some time to collect your thoughts and think of a way to escape.
“Oh, you can call me Ghostface, my dear, you'll have enough time to learn to shout it when I'm having fun with you in a little while,” this time the voice didn't sound in your head, and you could sense that there was an amusement in its tone, the sick fuck was having fun with it. “As for what I want, it's quite simple. I want you, and I've already got it.”
The frightening figure began to take large strides towards you, your stomach churning at the image, he looked as if he was going to devour you alive, but as if a light bulb had switched on in your mind, your hands reached for the holster of your wand, pulling to point it at Ghostface who was getting closer and closer, you were even willing to use one of the Unforgivable Curses, surely Azkaban was better than being eviscerated to death, but before you could conjure up a spell, a loud and angry “Expelliarmus!” rang out, sending your wand away hard enough.
“You fucking bitch,” your attacker's voice rang out with a venomous rage, one that promised to take its hateful time to hack you to pieces, making every fiber of your being shake with fear, but before his large hands could grab your forearm, you turned in a desperate, frantic run for your life towards the looming forest at the far end of the field. The darkness of the forbidden area offered uncertain refuge, but it was your only chance against a ruthless torturer.
Your lungs burned as you ran through the desert terrain, your legs felt like they would give way at any second if it wasn't for the pure adrenaline coursing through your veins, and Ghostface's sinister laughter echoing behind you was the soundtrack that reminded you that you just couldn't stop even if tears clouded your vision.
You were so close to the undergrowth that preceded the forest, believing that even death by one of the strange creatures that lived there was better than the feeling of a blade in your stomach, but before you could venture into the trees, a vice-like grip slipped around your waist and a cry of despair tore from your throat, kicking the air as your body was manhandled to face Ghostface, the mask hanging over his face, but it was still possible to see his malevolent eyes gleaming with a perverse triumph.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid whore,” he said angrily, using one of his hands to squeeze your cheek tightly, almost leaving a taste of blood when the soft flesh was pressed against your teeth, his other arm still holding your waist with an ease that showed you were exactly where he wanted you. “Haven't you ever watched horror movies? You never run into the woods.”
The tightness in your face slowly eased and you wanted to scream and spit in his face, but you were too scared to dare do anything that would hasten your demise, closing your eyes as tears began to fall like cascades from your eyes, the despair of the situation you were in beginning to sink in, your stomach churning as you felt like you might throw up at any minute, but your breath caught in your throat as you felt the icy blade against your cheek.
“You see, I was trying to be a nice guy to you, I got rid of that stupid professor so you wouldn't have to spend the rest of the afternoon digging pots of dirt, but you're so stupid that it took you almost an hour to realize she wasn't coming back,” he killed Professor Sprout. “Open your eyes!” He commanded, pushing the tip of the knife just enough against your flesh to leave a mark, but not hurt your pretty little face, not when he hadn't had enough fun yet, and you obeyed his command slowly, blinking a few times to keep the tears at bay, but they kept falling non-stop. “There you go, the fear in your eyes is so endearing. It's almost like a drug to me. I thrive on your terror, darling.”
There was an amusement in his voice, but also a softness that could make any other idiot relax, but not you, this behavior only served to show how you were dealing with a disturbed mind, one that could kill you at any second if you even dared to breathe wrong, it was a kind of psychological terror that you weren't sure he was aware of.
“Keep crying, darling, I like your tears,” he whispered as if in a trance, his eyes fixed on how red and swollen your eyes were, your face completely destroyed by your own despair and all of it caused by him. Oh, how he would have liked to remove the mask and lick away your tears, savoring every salty drop like an expensive wine, but he wouldn't end the fun so soon, he'd have time to do it later if you were a good enough girl to earn the privilege of surviving. “I've always dreamed of you crying and kicking while I arrange your guts before gutting you. I spent all day rehearsing in front of the mirror to say that to you, did you like it? I thought it was quite funny.”
You felt numb, taking a few seconds longer than necessary to grasp the words that left his lips as normally as if he had just said good morning — had you ever greeted him in the hallway? Was he a friend or a classmate? Was he an enemy or someone you had bullied in your school years? — but then desperate screams began to escape as you struggled in his arms, turning from side to side in an attempt to escape, but you were so much weaker than him.
“I told you to shut the fuck up, bitch,” he was clearly stressed with your bad behavior while he was genuinely trying to be a nice guy to you, he was trying to make things more comfortable, but you seemed to want to be treated like a whore so it would be. The grip on your waist tightened at the same time as he pressed the knife against your neck, no longer worrying if it would cut. “You'd better just open that filthy mouth of yours to beg for my cock or I'll kill every single one of your friends and make you drink their blood while I fuck you until you beg me to stop because you're so fucking sore, but I'll only stop when I’ve had enough of your pretty little cunt, do you understand it?”
You nodded affirmatively as he pressed the blade harder against your jugular, too afraid of his threats that sounded a lot more like promises, knowing that you had no chance against him other than giving in to his every depraved desire if you wanted to have the slightest chance of surviving. It was funny to him how your tough façade had crumbled so quickly, a little fear is always good for taming a slut.
“I asked you if you understood, you stupid whore,” his patience was wearing thin, you were lucky you had something he was interested in or your lifeless body would have been dumped to be found the next morning a long time ago.
“Y-yes,” you said in a crying voice, closing your eyes in the hope of waking up from that nightmare in the comfort and safety of your dorm.
But it wasn't your lucky day. The relief of having the dagger removed from your soft skin was quickly replaced by pain when he entwined his fingers in your hair and pulled your body hard to the ground, causing you to fall to your knees on the floor, the palms of your hands being used as a cushion, “You know what to do.”
You actually didn't know what to do. Your wide eyes shooting up to look at the man like a deer caught in the headlights, a sight that seemed to dissipate the impatience growing in his chest, but he couldn't be too soft with you or he'd send out the wrong message, “You're so pathetic. A little slut who doesn't know how to do anything, I bet if I look at your panties they're all wet from being manhandled, you're disgusting.”
Your thighs squeezed together, his words were having more of an effect on your body than you would have liked, but it wasn't your fault, or some sign that you were enjoying it, it was just a physiological arousal reaction caused by so much adrenaline in your system after being chased by a perverted maniac. It was a basic survival instinct.
The man lifted the black cloak he was wearing, revealing his school pants that were crumpled after the chase. It was a student, but you didn't have much time to run through the options of who the killer might be, there were hundreds of students anyway. Your attention went to how he quickly undid his buttons and fly, going down in a single pull to his knee to free his cock from his briefs as well, and you thought about running while he was at it, he'd probably fall before he got his pants up, but the knife in his hand was a constant reminder that he could kill you.
“If you want to stay alive, I suggest you stop testing my patience and start sucking,” he pointed the knife in your direction and you took a shallow breath, wiping your trembling hands on the checkered skirt of your uniform before bringing them to the boy's throbbing cock, it was hard, only confirming your theory that all the murders were some kind of perverted fun for him, probably he was some weirdo who didn't have a girlfriend to shag and this was the closest he'd ever come to sex, maybe he was some freak you'd rejected from getting into your knickers and that's why he was taking revenge.
In any case, you didn't had much time to think, your mind trying its best to dissociate itself from the traumatic situation you found yourself in. Your spit mixed with the pre-cum that soaked his member, giving some firm strokes that earned grunts of pleasure, and you opened your mouth just enough to get the head in, swirling your tongue around the slit, this time getting a better reaction, and one of his hands still held the sharp knife, but the other moved back to your hair to guide your movements and exert control over you.
“Don't test my fucking patience,” he grunted menacingly, tilting the knife just enough to catch your eye for a second and you knew better than to play with someone who could slice your neck.
So, despite your desire to shrink your head away in an attempt to preserve some dignity, you opened your jaw wider to slide his cock slowly into your hot mouth, savoring every second of the sensation that made him grunt, and it felt very much like a private paradise for him, “Fuck, that's it. I'm going to keep that pretty little mouth of yours very busy.”
His groan caught your attention, making you raise your puffy watery eyes to find the impersonal mask staring down at you, there was something truly sadistic about it, even knowing there was a human underneath it, it still seemed anything but, which made every slightest compliment, even those laced with degradation, a caress to your ego, but once again the thoughts were pushed out of your mind when he pushed down even further, making you gag and earning a dark chuckle.
“You better get used to it because my cock is the last thing that disgusting mouth of yours is going to feel,” his sentence was so impersonal, belittling your existence as if it meant nothing to him, and it really didn't.
He pulled almost all of his length out of your mouth before coming all the way back in, the tip hitting the back of your throat and making you choke and dig your nails into his thigh, desperately slapping in an attempt to get him to have mercy and let go just enough to get your breath back, but nothing happened, he just kept holding your head tightly against his pelvis, “You're going to stay right where you deserve to be, little bitch. I'll only let you go when you learn to breathe, get over it.”
The threat only made you more desperate, struggling against the firm grip he had on your head until the knife returned to your neck, but this time he moved the blade with enough determination to hurt if you dared to keep trying to break free, and your sense of self-preservation kicked in, you closed your eyes to try to control your breathing, still gagging from time to time until finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you controlled yourself.
“Was that so hard, you pathetic little thing?” He laughed as if the situation was funny, pulling his penis out again and you took a desperate deep breath, only then realizing that tears were flowing freely all over your face, drool dripping down your chin, and when he placed a hand on the back of your head, you leaned into his touch, finding some little comfort, but not for long. “Open up.”
There was no arguing, it was an order and you obeyed, making the boy smile with satisfaction under his mask, he was breaking you into his perfect little fuck doll. His hands went back to tangling in your hair, hurting your scalp as the abuse of your throat returned, this time more relentless, picking up pace with every little gagging sound as you tried only to focus on your breathing so as not to disappoint him yet again, so as not to be punished, but the sensation of your tight, wet, hot throat made him almost lose himself in the delicious sensation, the moans filling the oh-so-silent surroundings.
You were lost in your mind that didn't even register what time it was, or the possibility of someone finding and saving you, in fact, the whole situation was so humiliating that a part of you hoped that no one would ever see you like that, just silently wishing that he would use you however he wanted and then leave you free to return to the castle and send an owl to your parents begging to be transferred to Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny.
“Don't you dare touch yourself or I'll kill you,” was the stinging slap in the face that snapped you back to reality, taking a few seconds to register that while he was fucking your face, one of your hands had wandered down to your panties to touch yourself, how humiliating, quickly bringing them up behind your back, you'd pissed him off enough already.
His thrusts continued violent and swift as he found the perfect spot deep in your throat to aim for, moaning animalistically as his orgasm approached, and he didn't need much more than to look at your fucked face, the pretty popular girl letting herself be used as he pleased in the dark of the forest, how disappointed your parents would be, they might even disown you, but he didn't care, fuck your perfect life, you were made to be a cum dumpster and he would make sure of it, his load being pumped onto your tongue and down your throat.
“Swallow,” he commanded harshly when he finally caught his breath, taking his softening cock out of your abused mouth. “All of it.”
And so you did. Swallowing what felt like a reward for you, a proof that you had been good, that you deserved to live, opening again to show your tongue to the masked man who had finished buttoning his pants, and he crouched down to examine, but still looking so much taller and mightier than you, hooking your mouth with his thumb and giving a slight painful tug, the knife menacingly running its blade down the length of your neck, threatening to tear the skin at any second.
Your eyes quickly met his, and a wave of courage caused by extreme tiredness ran through your body, making your limbs act before you could think straight when one of your hands reached up to gently touch the frightening mask, almost as if it might bite you, but the boy made no mention of removing your touch and despite knowing that it was risky, that, logically, you would be a dead woman when you saw the killer's face, you lifted your mask, expecting to find menacing eyes and an evil smile, but what you saw was a small, infatuated smile so innocent that it contrasted with the earlier actions.
Theodore. Your boyfriend, who gently removed the knife from your neck to use the blade to pull a strand of hair back behind your ear, there was concern and tenderness behind his gaze, “Did you enjoy playing psycho killer and his helpless victim?”
“Almost as good as gutting those bitches,” you gave a mischievous smile that reached only your boyfriend's eyes, leaning into his touch for a sweet kiss. “But if I remember correctly, Mr. Ghostface, you promised you'd make me scream your name, I hope you'll keep it.”
Theo laughed at your words, “You're incorrigible,” there was a perverse humor, but it belonged only to the two of you, like a unique proof of love, some people liked cheesy declarations, you liked killing people, there's nothing wrong with that.
With a flick of his wand, he freed himself of his Ghostface outfit, picking you up in his strong arms, you looked wrecked enough to tell people back at the castle tearfully how Professor Sprout had been brutally murdered and you'd had to run for your life. Your head rested against Theo's chest, closing your tired eyes, he would take good care of you as soon as you were in his dorm, and you muttered tiredly, “When can I hunt you down too?”
“Whenever you want, pretty girl,” he left an affectionate kiss on the top of your head. How could he be so lucky to have you?
3K notes · View notes
Text
𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐰
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
HE WANTS TO SEE YOU NOW | SOFT!RAFE CAMERON X READER | IMAGINE | 
PAIRING: Soft!Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Your clingy boyfriend gets his friends to take you out of class cause he wants to see you now.
WORD COUNT → 643
WARNING(S): Clingy!Rafe, High School AU!, Kelce and Topper are in this,
AUTHORS NOTE: love Clingy Rafe. Omg thank you for making it to 1000+ notes
PART TWO | RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST | OUTERBANKS MASTERLIST | TAG LIST |
Tumblr media
Rafe Cameron was notorious throughout the halls of Outer Banks High School. His reputation as the school psycho was well-earned, and his mere presence struck fear into the hearts of both students and teachers alike. But behind that tough exterior was a softer side that only one person got to see—the person who meant the world to him, Y/N.
Y/N was Rafe's anchor, his source of comfort and happiness in an otherwise tumultuous life. They had been secretly dating for months, and their relationship was intense and passionate. Rafe couldn't stand being away from Y/N for too long, and that often led to some impulsive decisions.
One sunny afternoon, Rafe was sitting in his usual spot at the back of the classroom, his eyes never straying far from Y/N, who was sitting a few rows ahead. The bell rang signalling for their next class. But god did he hate his next class, Y/N being much smarter than him is in the honors class while he, Kelce sit in their chem class. Rafe's mind raced with thoughts of her, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on the lesson. He knew he should be paying attention, but the longing to be with Y/N overwhelmed him.
Rafe's best friend, Kelce, noticed his restlessness from his seat. Kelce leaned over and whispered, "Man, you've got it bad for Y/N, don't you?"
Rafe nodded, his eyes never leaving his phone, which is open to his lock-screen of Y/N. "I can't help it, Kelce. I just need to see her, to be with her."
Kelce chuckled. "You're like a lovesick puppy, Rafe. Why don't you just go talk to her after class?"
Rafe shook his head. "I can't wait that long. I need her now." as he packs his things and leaves the class.
Kelce and turned to Y/Ns friend who overheard the conversation exchanged glances. They knew when Rafe got like this, there was no talking him out of it. They also knew that Y/N was equally infatuated with him, and they couldn't deny their friend a little happiness.
After a quick, silent conversation, Kelce hatched a plan. He waited for the perfect moment when the teacher's back was turned, and then he made his move. Kelce texted Topper who was currently in Y/N’s class and tells him his plan and straight away the blonde stood up and walked over to her desk.
The teacher was momentarily confused by Topper's actions but quickly returned to the lesson.
Topper leaned in, on the left side of Y/N, and whispered, "Rafe wants to see you. Now."
Y/N blinked in surprise, not quite sure what was happening. She whispered back, "What? Why?"
Topper glances down at his phone, now amused glances again at Y/N and he replied, "Just trust me. Rafe's getting antsy, and I don't want him causing any trouble."
Y/N sighed, realizing that she couldn't deny Rafe anything when he was in this mood. She nodded and quickly packed up her things. The teacher, now fully engrossed in the lesson, didn't even notice as Y/N slipped out of the classroom with Topper.
Outside the classroom, Y/N asked, "Where is he?"
Topper pointed down the hallway, where Rafe stood, leaning against the lockers with an impatient expression. His eyes lit up when he saw Y/N approaching.
Y/N rushed into Rafe's arms, and he held her close, pressing a fervent kiss to her lips. "I missed you so much, baby," he murmured.
Y/N smiled, feeling her heart swell with affection for her clingy boyfriend. "I missed you too, Rafe."
Kelce and Topper watched the couple with fond amusement, satisfied that they had successfully orchestrated a reunion between Rafe and Y/N. Rafe might have been the school psycho, but he was also head over heels in love, and that was something they could all appreciate.
As Rafe and Y/N walked hand in hand down the hallway, oblivious to the world around them, Kelce turned to Topper and said, "We might have to do this more often. It's good for Rafe's sanity, and it's kinda sweet."
Topper nodded in agreement. "Yeah, who would've thought our psycho friend would turn into such a softy when it comes to Y/N?"
The two friends shared a laugh before heading off to their next class, leaving Rafe and Y/N to enjoy their much-needed time together.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
anawritez-posts · 2 months
Text
𝗕𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗘𝗺𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲:
summary: Tom comes back to see you asleep on top of his blankets. A/N: because I sleep like this, I had to be my delulu self and write about it.
masterlist | taglist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The dim light of the common room cast a warm glow on the tapestries and ornate furniture. Y/N lay peacefully on Tom Riddle's bed, her face buried in the softness of his pillows. Tom entered the room, his sharp features softened by the sight of her. He rolled his eyes when he saw her sprawled across the bed on her stomach, above the blankets.
"Doll," he sighed, crossing his arms, "you can't possibly be comfortable like that."
Y/N stirred, blinking her eyes open to see Tom standing there. She stretched, a lazy smile playing on her lips. "It's too hot in here," she mumbled.
Tom smirked, "It's your own fault for wearing a jumper in this weather." He approached the bed, bending down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Y/N grinned and reached out to pull him closer. "Well, I was waiting for you, you know."
Tom arched an eyebrow, "Oh, were you now?" He teased, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. He slid under the covers and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. but Y/N begins to kick off the blankets still hot until he embraced her. "I was trying to put the blankets on us."
Y/N groaned playfully, clinging onto him tighter. "Too much effort."
He kissed the top of her head, "Lazy." But his tone was affectionate.
She grinned, her eyes fluttering closed. "Your cold skin is perfect, though."
Tom chuckled again, a low sound that reverberated through his chest. "Well, if you're comfortable, then I suppose my efforts were not in vain."
She nuzzled into his chest, sighing contentedly. "Mmm, much better."
Tom chuckled, feeling her warmth against his cool skin. "I can't let you freeze," he murmured, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back. "Are you comfortable now sweetheart?."
Y/N nodded sleepily, her grip on him relaxing. Tom chuckled again, a low sound that reverberated through his chest. "then I suppose my efforts were not in vain" Tom continued to hold her close, the quiet of the room enveloping them. As she drifted back to sleep, a small smile lingered on her face, knowing that in Tom's arms, she was finally comfortable and safe.
Tumblr media
874 notes · View notes
blueicequeen19 · 5 months
Text
Camping Trip
Tumblr media
Warnings: Somno, non-con, unprotected sex, creampie, JJ stealing Rafe’s girl, Rafe claiming her anyway 😮‍💨
I didn't want to come on this camping trip but my girlfriend insisted. The idea behind it was appealing; kayaking through the marsh, partying, then camping for the night, then going back to civilization. The cops left us alone as long as we cleaned up our mess before we left. All the way out here, there was no need to worry about disturbing anyone else or getting a noise complaint. I think this was their way of letting us get everything out of our system. The drugs, alcohol, and sex never stopped flowing at these events. Out here we weren't Kooks or Pogues. We were all alike and just trying to forget for a weekend. Everyone was out in the open, naked and fucking. Or drinking. Or smoking. It was the wildest weekend of the year. But it was torture for me now.
I couldn't relax knowing that the one person plaguing my mind was here and she was here with Rafe fucking Cameron. We were supposed to have some sort of truce with Rafe for Sarah. She didn't want the drama and the retaliation that always followed. And sense one of the rules for coming out here was no fighting, my hands were tied. For the most part.
When we'd been loading the kayaks on the water, I'd seen Rafe's tent lying on the sand waiting to be packed so I nonchalantly bent down to grab something and sliced the side with my knife before he came back. He was more pissed off over manual labor than to notice the giant hole. It wasn't until a few hours ago that he finally noticed and threw a fit. Of course he didn't suspect me because I was the one helping them set up camp. Rafe wasn't made for the outdoors like I was so he didn't have a clue. And when I offered to let them share our four person tent, he was hesitant but he agreed. Especially after I mentioned the risk of sand fleas from sleeping outside.
Y/N saw through my bullshit though. I could tell with the way her eyes tracked my every move, narrowing slightly when we'd lock eyes. My girl isn't stupid so why is she hanging out with this moron?
It was getting late by the time Rafe was drunk enough to be tolerable. My girlfriend was currently passed out in the tent, her buzz keeping her that way as I crawled in next to her. Rafe's one stipulation about sharing the tent was that the girls slept in the middle. That was fine but I couldn't bear to wake my girlfriend so I left her on the side, maneuvering myself between her and Y/N. Both girls were in their bikinis since the night air was still pretty hot and humid while I had nothing on but a pair of basketball shorts. Y/N had laid down a while ago but Rafe was passed out by the fire, where he'd stay for now.
I let my eyes descend her body, marking every detail to memory from the scar on her hip to the freckle on her chest. I want to lick every inch of her the cum on her face. She was exquisite and fucking mine.
I moved closer so her side was pressed to my chest, her hand next to the raging hardon in my shorts. I lost myself in watching the way her tits rose and fell with every breath before I finally pulled each scrap of material to the side to reveal her perfect nipples. They were already hard as I gently blew air across them. She didn't stir so I began to circle one with my point finger, willing it to get as hard as possible. I move to the next one, training my eyes on her face while making sure to listen for movements outside. Her thighs clenched together before falling open, welcoming me as I finally flicked her nipple with my tongue.
God, she tasted good.
I was so hard it hurt and her hand was against my dick, the ultimate form of torture. I didn't stop licking and sucking her peaked little bud until her head fell to the side, exposing her throat to me.
I felt like such a fucking creep but I couldn't help it. This girl made me crazy. I needed her in all the worst ways. Everytime I fucked my girlfriend I had to imagine it was this girl just so I could get off. It was wrong but I was only with her to make Y/N jealous.
I leaned into her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her skin and the shampoo in her hair. I resisted the urge to mark her pretty throat. Rafe would lose his fucking shit and the truce would be over if I left a hickey on her. It was tempting but I pulled back just as she stirred again and her hand brushed against my cock. I sucked in a breath through my nose before reaching down to free myself from my shorts. My cock rested against her hand and I watched as precum wept from the tip, onto her delicate fingers.
I grit my teeth before reaching down to wrap her hand around my cock and slowly use her hand to jerk myself off. I was on the verge of moaning and cumming from this alone so I took her nipple into my mouth again to try and distract myself from the best handsy I'd ever gotten.
Finally, I pulled away and let her hand drop before I moved to the foot of the tent. There was still no movement from outside so I carefully widened her legs further to get a look at her plump, wet pussy, the fabric of her bikini bottoms were damp with her arousal. I positioned myself on my stomach between her thighs and pressed my nose to the fabric, savoring the way she fucking smelled. I needed to get it together or I was going to run out of time.
I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning when I slowly pulled the fabric to the side and found her slick with arousal, just like I knew she would be. She was waxed and so goddamn smooth. I used my hands to open her up and present myself with her clit. The swollen nub was already darkening in color, ready to be sucked.
I stuck my tongue out flat and swiped it from her entrance to her clit, her taste making me almost blow my load right then. I watched her face for signs of movement as I did it again and again. I tried to take my time while I tasted her when really all I wanted to do was feast like a starved man. I needed to die in this pussy.
When I sucked her clit into my mouth and her legs tightened, I stopped, my eyes trained on her unmoving face. I moved lower, teasing her entrance with my tongue and her brows finally pulled together, the first sign of consciousness I'd seen on her.
I thrust my tongue inside her sweet, wet pussy and her toes immediately curled. I couldn't stop fucking her with my tongue. She was so wet that it was running down my chin, onto my chest while it absolutely just poured out of her like a fountain. Finally a soft hum left her lips and I froze for a moment before carefully moving to my knees as I tried to listen for Rafe outside.
"R-Rafe--." She moaned softly, sliding her legs together and turning on her side. Fire blazed through my blood, my hands balling into fists as I grit my teeth so hard, I feared they might shatter. She's dreaming about fucking Rafe.
I didn't think as I rolled her the rest of the way to her stomach and tucked her thong bikini to the side after shoving her legs together. I straddled her body, freeing my cock again and watching it drip all over her nice ass before I guided it through her slick. Pissed off didn't even begin to describe how I was feeling now. It took every ounce of strength I had left to resist the urge to bury my cock in her in one hard thrust but I didn't.
I eased the tip in as I leaned over her back, blood filling my mouth where I've bit my lip. The tight, wet heat of her pussy washed over me, her walls already pulsing as she pulled me in deeper. I leaned down next to her face, moving her hair out of the way as my pelvis became flush with her ass, and kissed the shell of her ear.
"Who's cock is inside you right now?" I can't help but growl, as I start to roll my hips back and forth. Her breathing picks up, her body reacting to mine as I fuck her with short thrusts, attempting to avoid the slapping sound of skin on skin. Her hands fist the sleeping bag next to her head and I grin before looking between our bodies to watch my cock pull out covered in her white, creamy substance before driving back inside her. I lower myself to her back and drag my tongue up her spine, leaving goosebumps all over her skin as I find her ear again.
"Who's fucking you right now?" I growl, her pussy walls quiver hard as she nears her release. Fuck, I'm right there too. I need to pull out. Rafe can't know I was here or I risk throwing away the truce between the Pogues and Kooks but fuck, I don't think the devil himself could stop me right now. A darker part of me wants to mark her insides with my cum just to claim her then watch it drip. Fuck what Rafe thinks.
I cover her hands with my own, her fingers immediately locking with mine in a tight grip. Every inch of her is drawn tight as she approaches her release, her brows pulled together as she fights to maintain the ruse of being asleep. I want to fuck her harder, faster, but I know we’ll get caught if I lose control.
"I should roll you on your back and make you watch as I fuck my cum into you. Sluts like you deserve to be filled up and left." I keep my voice low in her ear and a small gasp leaves her lips, her eyes finally fluttering open to gaze up at me. I'm not sure if she's afraid or pleading. Afraid I'll stop or pleading for me to continue. She looks hot regardless.
"I--." Her whisper is cut off as she cums hard, practically soaking us both as her eyes roll into the back of her head and she trembles beneath me. I growl, driving myself into her harder as cum shoots deep inside her whether I want it to or not. I grab a fistful of her hair, my mouth at her ear as I cum and cum and cum. It's so much that I can't stop.
"Look at me. Look at who's fucking you, who's cum is inside you." I snap in a low voice but she shakes her head, refusing to look at me.
"Look at me or I'll stop. I know you're gonna cum again. Open your fucking eyes and say my name." Her lips tremble just as her eyes snap open and another orgasm washes over her. The fire in her eyes morphs to one of raw desire just as her lips part on a breathless moan and I hear what I've been dying to hear all night.
"J--." Her mouth clamps closed again as she shakes hard beneath me. I fuck her through it until my own body is shaking from overstimulation and I have no choice but slow to a stop.
Her eyes are heavy for a few moments before they narrow on me, that fire back. I lean in to kiss her, wanting to feel her lips just once but she turns her head, jutting out her chin.
“My cum is leaking out of you and you won’t kiss me?” I rasp in her ear, feeling her body tighten and my cock jerks inside her.
“I hate you.” She bites out, watching as I slowly pull out. I can feel we’ve made a mess and for a few seconds I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. I don’t want to pull out. I’m not ready for this to be over. If anything I want to keep going until the sun comes up and we have no choice but to face Rafe.
“You can hate me all you want but you loved every second of it.” I grab Rafe’s towel and clean her up the best I can before she slaps my hand away and does it herself.
“You’re a piece of shit. I thought you were Rafe.” She hisses, grabbing one of Rafe’s shirts and yanking it over her head, her eyes glancing at my sleeping girlfriend that I’d forgotten about.
I open my mouth to argue when I hear steps shuffling in the sand right outside the tent. There’s the distinct sound of vomiting and gagging as we both scramble to right ourselves and appear to be sleeping. I give her my back and quickly throw my arm over my sleeping girlfriend just as the zipper is pulled back.
“Fuck.” I hear Rafe grumble as he drops down on the sleeping bag next to me. There’s shuffling and I hear her gasp. My teeth grind together at the sound of their heavy breathing. He’s so drunk that he’s gonna fuck her with me in here, not even realizing she’s already full of me.
“Rafe..” I hear her whisper then she gasps as he no doubt buries himself inside her.
“God, you’re so wet. Miss me, baby?”
1K notes · View notes
youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months
Text
“Made for me.” // Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader
Tumblr media
Thank you everyone for 1K followers, I am so grateful for all the support I've received for my fics, it's kind of an emotional moment for me cause I never thought I'd get this far, so here is the fic from this poll! this is short since I did not have much time and I do not want to delay my 1k celebration fic further! <3
MDNI // DD:DNE // reader discretion is advised.
Summary: As far as Aemond can remember, he had liked you, not in a way a brother loves his sister, no, in a way a man loves a woman, finding out that you were soon to be betrothed to a Tully for alliance, he feels devastated, until he decides he can prevent it, by ruining you.
WARNINGS: heavy noncon to dubcon, mindbreak, mindfuck, canon typical incest, creepy aemond(?), possessive aemond, dark!aemond, jealousy, obsession, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, virginity loss, mentions of blood, purity culture, medieval age standards (no smut until 18+), cum eating, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, porn with little plot. + not proofread.
block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.
WC: 3k
For as long as Aemond can remember, he had always been smitten with you, his little sister, someone very dear to him, he had loved you since the moment you were born, immediately becoming someone he swore to protect.
He was rumoured to have some romantic feelings for helaena, which wasn't entirely false but if anyone were to look closely, they would realise that the longing gaze he holds for helaena is nothing compared to the one when he looks at you.
As he grew into a man, these feelings developed further, and as he watched you grow into a woman, desire managed to get a hold of him. He remembers the first time he felt carnal attraction towards you, it was your sixteenth nameday, you had worn a beautiful green dress that showed a little cleavage, something his mother would've been against but she let it slide that time, he remembered as you bent over in front of him to get something from the table, giving him full view of your tits which he immediately looked away from.
That night he had rushed back to his chambers as fast as possible to tug on his length at the thought of you.
He was never the same after that, every touch ignited a fire in him, when you would lay on his thigh as you both sat beneath the godswood while he read, he had to fight the urge to take you right then and there, taking your maidenhead in front of the gods to bind you to himself forever.
As the years passed, his feeling for you grew stronger and stronger.
Tumblr media
“Aem!” There was your sweet voice calling him once again, his gaze lifted from the book on the table to your form which stood a few metres away from him, you smiled when you noticed his gaze was on you, walking over to him so you stood next to him, peering down on the book he was reading.
“What are you reading?” you ask curiously, voice leaking with inquiry, he looked down at his book before glancing up again, “Just a book about our history, valyria.” he tells you and you lean down slightly over his shoulder, your platinum blonde locks falling over and curtaining the side of his face as you read the text.
“Would you read it to me?” you inquire and he nods, before you shoot him the bright smile that never seemed to leave your face, and pull the chair beside him, causing the wood to make a noise as it glid against the floor, and sitting down on it.
He began reading and you listened to him for quite a while, before your eyes started becoming droopy and closing as sleep tried to overwhelm you, it wasn't because you were not interested in the history, no, it was due to the fact that your older brother's voice was extremely comforting.
He chuckled when he tried your efforts to keep yourself awake and closed the book, “Sister, you must not fight when sleep finds you, go to thine chambers and rest.”
“But brother! You have just gotten to Aegon's conquest.” you pout, and he chuckles, “I shall read it to you tomorrow, now go rest.” he manages to convince you and obey his word.
Aemond sighs as he watches you walk away, you were the Apple of his eye, everyone knew, he had been protective of you since you were younger, though he developed certain type feelings, the kind that a brother shouldn't develop for his sister, but alas, targaryens have queer customs, after all, his elder sister was married to Aegon, their older brother.
It was only time until mother betrothed you both, and he would wait patiently for that, he would often imagine how married life with you would be, it would be perfect.
Tumblr media
But all those dreams were crushed when he finds out that your mother was planning to betrothed you to a tully, to get their alliance in case of Aegon's claim for the throne. Angry was an understatement, he was extremely pissed off, and what did you do? You gladly accepted it, even managing to look happy at the proposal.
Just then he remembers his elder sister's words. ‘If one possesses a thing, the other will take it away.’
He could not have that.
He can not have you be taken away from him, that too by an undeserving house such as tully.
You knew something was extremely odd when Aemond came to your chambers at night, he never did that, always deeming it inappropriate for a lady and a man to be together after the moon has risen unless they were husband and wife. So it was extremely shocking as to what he was doing in your chambers, knowing he took the secret entrance since the guard did not mention Aemond at all when you entered.
“Brother? What are you doing here so late?” you ask as you approach him, he is sitting on the chair near the fireplace, turning his head to the side as if to acknowledge your presence, the light bouncing off his face making his features look much more angular and intimidating.
“I have missed you, dear sister.” he stood up and turned to face you, and you peered up at him confused, “I had heard about your betrothal to a tully, though I do not remember his name, I came here to wish you pleasantries and a prosperous marriage.” he tries his best to not scowl.
You smile widely.
And that immediately sets him off.
“Thank yo-” before you could finish your sentence, Aemond grabs you harshly by your cheeks, pulling his face towards his own, “You're happy? You're fucking happy?” he growls as his breath fans your face, “Aemond-” before you could say anything, the same hand that was gripping your cheeks goes to your hair, pulling your head back, your hands fly up to his to make him release his grip as the tug at your strands were incredibly painful.
He doesn't say anything but slams his lips against yours, moving against yours in a frantic rhythm, your eyes widen at this and you push at his chest to pull him off, but he uses the grip on your hair to further push you against him, and soon you're all flush against him, weakly trying to pushing him off while the hand in your hair keeps tightening as the other holds your waist gently.
A true contrast.
He pulls away to breathe and he looks at your teary eyes, as you look at him, “Aemond- you're scaring me.” you say weakly, shaking as his eye narrows, “I love you.” he blurts out and you look at him shocked, “But- we're siblings–”
“We're also targaryens.” he cuts you off, and lets go of your hair.
You squeal when he lifts you up roughly, before making haste over to your bed and throwing you on it, and before you can get up, he traps you in his arms.
“I do not wish to see you married to someone else, you have been mine, since the day you were born, sister.” he whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to it. You gasped when you felt his hand grope at your clothed breast giving it a tight squeeze and you tried prying his hand off to no avail.
“Aem- please stop-” you beg but he doesn't listen and his eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, “Sister, tell me the truth have you not felt anything when you stay with me? A warm feeling in your heart?” your breathe hitches as he asks you that question, and you look away from him, feeling ashamed that you held feelings for him, they very well hidden, you felt ashamed whenever you would feel heat pool between your legs as you watched Aemond do quite literally anything.
He undoes his breeches and pulls his cock out, undeniably hard, “If I ruin you then mother won't marry you off to him, besides, no one would want a woman that is ruined, especially by her own brother.” he says and you sob, shaking your head and you gasp as you feel his dick pressed against your core.
Your silence gave him the answer he needed, he tore your dress apart, the stitches popping off with a noise, as he changed his grip and undoes your clothing.
You try to push him off and hit his chest, in defiance, but he is much stronger than you, pinning your hands above with his one hand as the other pulls off the shredded clothing, with your final strength, you deliver a hard kick to his crotch which causes him to groan and plop on the bed next to you in pain, and you use that change to try and scramble up and off the bed but to your disdain, he immediately recovers and pulls you down with a tight grip on your leg but pushing them apart, placing himself between them and then wrapping his hands around your neck, the grip cutting off air circulation rapidly as you struggled against him.
“Fucking cunt.” he says before spitting on your face and you cry, you feel your brain go dark as you start loosing consciousness at the lack of oxygen only for him to let go, cause you to take a deep breath on relax, snapping you awake at once.
“Sister, look how much you are leaking, way too much for someone that pretends like they hate it.” he rubs his cock against your folds, coating it in your juices and he groans, before he leans in, kissing your neck and then your breasts before pulling back.
“Brother please- ah!” you gasp when you felt his hot fingers press against your bud, rubbing it, making you squirm as you grip his hand and try to push it off but his grip stays firm and you eventually give up, hands falling to your sides and gripping the sheets below as he plays with cunt.
He knew you'd eventually break.
He did not want to hurt you or force you.
But you weren't making it easier and he did not have much time either, so he had to resort to this.
You reach your peak with a loud moan of his name which went straight to his cock, he leaned down and kissed you once more, holding your legs apart by force and then grabbing his cock before lining it up against your entrance, slowly pushing the thick head in, your hands shot up to his shoulder to grab them, nails digging into the skin as he rips you apart on his cock, bullying into you without mercy, his hand covering your mouth as you let out painful whines to shush you up. You whimper when you feel him fully sheathed inside you, feeling too full, your cunt clenching around him painfully tight to push him out but he stays there.
“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you were made to.” he whispers in your ear before pulling his hips back and snapping them forward, causing you to let out a scream, although it was muffled, at the pain. The orgasm before had only helped a little, he was too thick and big.
At first he starts slowly, pulling back and snapping one at a time, trying to give you time to adjust until you whimpered his name, which made him lose any and all control he had as his pace became faster, brutally slamming his cock inside you as you whined and moaned beneath him.
The sound of wet slapping noises soon fill the air and the smell of sex starts taking over, your mind becomes all hazy at what was happening to you, you watch as Aemond takes one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling on the nipple, drool spilling all over it while his hand gropes the other, massaging it. Your hand travels to his hair and you arch your back, shoving more of your breast in his mouth, making him groan in delight.
He pulls back with a pop and you look at him gasping and wide eyed as he thrusts into you, eyes dropped as slight drool leaks from the sides of your mouth, letting out moans when he hits that sweet spot inside you.
“Fuck- you're so perfect, made just for me.” he grunts, supporting himself on his hands above you, hair curtaining around your face as you stare directly in his eye, watching him close it in pleasure, gasping when he feels you clench around him.
“You're mine right?” his eye opens and he looks at you intensely, you nod, agreeing with what he was saying, your mind losing all of its ability to think rationally the moment he entered inside you, you felt your stomach tighten.
“Use your words.” he commands and you gulp, “Yes only yours— ah! Fuck aemond!” you throw your head back as your second orgasm hits you, moaning out loud and he let's out a shaky breath before you felt his thrusts become sloppy, “Fuck, I'm gonna fill this cunt up, watch my seed take root in your womb, you're mine, mine to fuck, marry, breed, you'll give me many heirs won't you?” he goes off, voicing his thoughts and you feel warm and turned on at his words, “Yes- brother, I'm all yours, only yours.” you say, grabbing his cheek and rubbing a thumb on his scar and he finishes inside you with a loud moan, pushing himself to the hilt as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum inside you.
He pulls out, still somehow hard and lays down beside you, and you feel so empty without him inside you, so you whine, “Aem- I need you.” you pout and he looks at you wide eyed, and you don't know what comes over you, but you find your patience running thin as you wait for him to do something, so you take matters into your own hands, getting on top of him, grabbing his blood soaked cock before rising your hips and sitting down on it.
“Sister?” Aemond asks questionably, as he grabs your hips, watching you bounce on top of his cock, breasts moving up and down as you moan loudly into the chambers, only his name, on repeat and that's when he finally understands what happened.
He broke you.
He fucked your mind.
He should feel bad, knowing how now you're seeking him and his cock out like a bitch in heat but he doesn't, he feels more accomplished at that, knowing you desire no one but him. He moans when he feels your cunt spasm around him as you reach your peak, and instead of stopping, you continue riding him, wanting to bring him to his peak as well, you take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, making him grip it and play with your nipple.
“Brother please! Please cum inside me, I want you to fill me up.” you beg and Aemond groans at that, “Want- want you so bad! please haa, I need to have your children.” you moan and Aemond felt himself reach his peak harshly at that, filling you up once again.
Aemond changes the position, getting on top of you again, cock still inside and you give him a small smile before grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss, his lips move passionately against yours, before he pulls away, kissing down your neck and to your breasts, he pulls out and slowly trails kissing down to your down, watching as his loads of cum leak out from you, he pushes his tongue out and collects his juice on his mouth, before shoving it inside again, engulfing your cunt in his mouth, you grab his hair and grind your hips against his face, moaning his name loudly as he works his mouth, his nose shoved against your clit, creating friction whenever he moves his head, and soon enough, you reach your peak once again, “Brother!” you moan as you arch your back and he groans into your cunt, lapping up at the juices being secreted from you, before pulling away from it, placing wet kisses on your inners thighs and coming up towards you again, and kissing you, shoving his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste both your combined juices, and you groan into the kiss at the taste.
You both spent that night just like that.
Tumblr media
Your mother was horrified when she had heard about this, and tully had walked in on the conversation, scrunching up his face in disgust and calling off your betrothal, you stood with your arm wrapped around Aemonds arm as he explain his mother what happened, looking away and hiding in his arms as she yelled at him for ruining and spoiling you, before inevitable deciding to betroth you both as result.
And you both were married, two moons later.
The maesters were extremely confused when you went into labour earlier than what they had predicted, they thought that it was going to be a stillbirth, yet they were confused to see when a healthy silver hair babe popped out, crying and cooing. They considered it a miracle but only Alicent and Aemond knew the truth.
Aemond stood there with his child in his arms as he gazed lovingly upon him, a son. You smiled at him as he cooed in high valyrian.
“Maester, When can I take her again?” That question caught the maester off guard and he cleared his throat before speaking up, “I would suggest waiting 6 weeks until she is fully healed, or 3 moons time.” and Aemond hummed.
The maester leaves the room, leaving you, aemond and the babe alone, the baby cooing at his father, small hand entangled in his hair.
“After you heal, I shall put a babe inside you again, dear wife.” He comes down and sits next to you and you smile, “As you wish, husband.” you tease and press a kiss on his lips.
———
3K notes · View notes
stargirllanaa · 1 month
Text
୨⎯ "Bad Liar" - R.C
Tumblr media
❥ Masterlist
Warnings: NONCON smut, Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, abusive relationship, Domestic violence, mentions of drinking, rafes pretty bad as usual
Summary: You snuck out to hang with the pogue’s… bad idea. Idea is from a comment on this post.
A/n ✎: OMG thank you for 200 followers!! I started writing Rafe like 3 weeks ago but the overwhelming support has been so motivating <333 love you all sm! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed!!! Btw my request are open again, don’t be shy ;)
Wc: 2.1k
18+ MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!
You quietly entered your house, locking the door behind you. It was 2 am, and you had just driven home from the other side of the island because you had to sneak around to hang out with your friends. Your boyfriend Rafe didn't like your choice of friends, often calling them ‘dirty pogues’ and claiming that they were all ‘trying to turn you against him,’ and that pissed you off.
Just because Rafe had a problem with Pogues didn't mean you had to, and frankly, his reasoning for hating them so much was stupid; because of his issue with them, you were frequently isolated. Still, you wouldn't let Rafe stop you from having a social life outside of him, so you would sometimes sneak out late at night, go to the cut, visit your friends, and return home like nothing had happened.
You did feel guilty about going behind Rafe's back, but what could you do? You weren't going to cut all your friends off because Rafe told you to. It wasn't like you were cheating.
You made sure to cover all of your tracks. Knowing Rafe had your location, you left your phone at home every time you snuck out. You always left at night so you could text Rafe ‘goodnight,’ and he wouldn't suspect anything from you not responding, and you would always make it back in three hours at the most just to be careful. You knew if Rafe found out about you sneaking around, he would be furious; you had been disobeying his wishes for months and lying to his face.
As you crept up your stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, you couldn't help but smile; even though you hated to admit it, you and Rafe never had fun. I mean, you two had ‘fun’ in his way, like going golfing, parties, ‘Rafe stuff,’ but you two would never do anything you wanted to do, and with The Pogues, it was the opposite; you got to get messy, get drunk on the beach even do girly things like braid Sarah's hair or have Kie paint your nails, things that you could never do with rafe. It was a relief to do something you enjoyed.
You opened the door to your bedroom, which was pitch black; you had turned all your lights out before you left; you felt around on the wall for the light switch, flipping it upwards. The lights momentarily blinded you, but you jumped when you saw the manlike figure on your bed. When your eyes finally focused, it was worse than what you expected.
Rafe was sitting on your bed, staring directly at you; his face was unreadable and emotionless, which was terrifying. Your boyfriend was usually expressive, the type to lash out when angry; you had never seen him this calm, and you certainly didn't expect him to be calm after catching you going behind his back.
You stood frozen in the doorway, unable to tear your gaze away from him or move. This didn't feel real.
“Where were you?” Rafe asked, breaking the silence; his voice was monotone, empty of emotion as he sat on your bed, just looking at you.
Your throat felt dry, and your tongue heavy with unsaid words. You struggled to find your voice and form a coherent response, and the utter shock and fear rendered you speechless.
“I don't want to repeat myself,” Rafe mumbled under his breath; he was allowing you to come clean and save yourself from whatever he had planned if he caught you in a lie.
“I was…” you blinked a couple of tears back, thinking of what to say. “I went to the gas station… to get some.” you looked up and then back at him, fidgeting with your hands. “snacks.” you lied, voice cracking from nerves.
Rafe smirked, slighting, breaking his calm facade. Did this amuse him?
“Right.” Rafe nodded, looking at his lap as if he was thinking about what you just said. “So you went to the gas station, right?” he asked, awaiting a response.
You nodded, but you couldn't stop the tears from glazing your eyes and your whole body from trembling.
“And you left your phone at home?” Rafe questioned you, head tilting slightly and his eyes narrowing.
You completely forgot that since Rafe was waiting for you in your room and most likely saw your phone on your nightstand. Your lies were falling apart before your eyes.
“I forgot-” You mumbled quietly, still standing in your doorway. You hoped you weren't loud enough to wake anyone in your house, but you were too scared to get closer to Rafe.
“Y/n,” Rafe muttered, pushing himself off the bed, now standing in front of it. “I'm done with the lies. Alright?” the blonde sighs, now talking with his hands. “I've been here for,” he looks down at his expensive watch, taking in the time. “2 hours,” Rafe admits, fist clenching to his side.
Your face fell when he said that, he had caught you; he had to know; there was no excuse or lie you could think of to justify why you were at the gas station for 2 hours in the middle of the night. Your heart started to beat faster, and your tears finally spilled over; you weren't just scared, you were terrified; you didn't want to admit to hanging out with the Pogues, but what else could you do? You had tried lying and failed, making the situation worse, and Rafe probably already expected the worst. I mean, you were sneaking out in the middle of the night. That would look like cheating to anyone.
“And I don't see any snacks either.” Rafe sighs as he combs his finger through his hair.
He was right; you didn't even think of that; you were a horrible liar.
“So I'm going to ask you one more time.” Rafe’s posture was stiff, and his hands were shaky, “where. Were. you.” his tone was sharp, and his breathing was speeding up as he waited for your response.
“I was at the chateau…ok?!” You blurted out loudly, quickly covering your mouth after realizing your door was still open. “John B’s place, it was me, Sarah.” his eyes rolled when you mentioned his sister, “Kiara, Pope, JJ.” You were now half whispering and hyperventilating simultaneously; your tears were prevalent as you told your boyfriend everything. There was no point in lying anymore, he had caught you, and he was pissed.
“We were just hanging out, and I'm sorry; I know I should have-” You were just saying anything that came to mind, trying to improve this situation, word vomit.
“Come here.” Your boyfriend mumbled, cutting you off; his voice was low and shaky.
You shook your head. ‘No,’ you didn't want to be anywhere near him right now; you had just admitted to lying to him multiple times and didn't want to face the consequences.
“Ok,” he shakes his head before running his hand through his hair again and saying something under his breath that you didn't quite catch.
Before you knew it, he was charging at you. You tried to run out the doorway, but as soon as you turned, one of his arms was wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his stiff chest, and with the other, he used his hand to cover your mouth in one swift motion before using his foot to shut your door.
“You were lying to me.” he hissed into your ear, pushing you against your wall, back facing him. “Calculating plans behind my back.” he used the hand that was around your waist to grab a chuck of your hair, forcing your head to snap to the side. “To hang out with dirty Pogues.” he was now gripping your hair so tight you felt it might come out of your head. “And probably sleep with them behind my back.” His voice didn't raise once as he automatically assumed the worst.
You couldn't deny his claims; his hand was over your mouth tight, your parents were right upstairs, and he knew that.
“How many times? Huh?” Rafe questioned you, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact, and when you looked into his eyes, they didn't look normal; they were dark. “How many times did you fuck those disgusting Pogues while you pretend to be asleep?” he was dead serious.
He slowly moved his hand from over your mouth, waiting for you to respond, but when you let out a loud cry instead, he quickly covered it again before slamming your head against the wall, which was also noisier than he expected.
In Rafe's mind, he couldn't accept the fact that you and another guy could just be friends, especially not you and a Pogue; in Rafe's mind, you 100% cheated on him, and there was no convincing him otherwise. He was disgusted; who knows where those pogues had been or who they had been in? They were filthy and grimy; who knows what you could have given him.
“You're disgusting.” Rafe whispers in your ear before flipping your body around to face him, stuck between him and the walls.
“I can't believe I trusted you.” His hand was now grabbing at your hair again, gripping the top of your scalp and using it as leverage to push you down on your knees in front of him.
You fought back, trying to stand straight, but Rafe quickly overpowered you. And before you knew it, you were kneeling before him like he wanted.
“I'm going to let go of you, and if you make any noise…” he paused momentarily, looking deeply into your eyes. “I'll kick your fucking teeth in.” he threatened, voice still shaking. “Understand?”
You nodded to the best of your ability with his tight grip on your hair and face.
When he let go, you tried your best to stay quiet, letting out little cries and whimpers, but not enough for him to fulfill his threat. The tears hadn't stopped since he'd caught you, and you were so fucking exhausted from all the fun you had earlier and now the pain, accusations, and tears. But when you looked up to see Rafe unbuttoning his pants, you couldn't keep quiet.
“No-” You protested quietly, as you started to hyperventilate, tears now fully clouding your vision. “Rafe-” You couldn't even catch your breath. You were panicking.
“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe demanded quietly, but his tone was still harsh as he pulled down his pants.
“I can't breathe-” You were cut off by Rafe pushing your head, causing it to slam against the wall; you immediately rubbed the back of your head to soothe the pain as you cried harder.
Rafe was getting more annoyed with you by the second, jaw ticking every time he looked at you. He grabbed your chin roughly, pulling your face closer to his crotch.
“I told you to shut the fuck up.” Rafe sneered as he used his other hand to pull his boxers down and begin stroking his cock right in front of your face.
You couldn't stop crying. You couldn't believe this was happening; just an hour ago, you were out with your friends, having fun, not even worried about your boyfriend. You had gotten away with sneaking out so many times already; how could you have known today would be any different?
“Open your mouth,” Rafe demanded as he held his cock right in front of your lips.
You tried to turn your head to the side, but Rafe wasn't having it. His grip on your chin got tighter and tighter until you tried to cry out in pain, but as soon as you opened your mouth, he got what he wanted.
His hand holding your chin was back on your hair as he guided your head up and down at a quick, harsh pace. Sounds of gags and rafes and low moans filled the room. It was music to his ears but traumatizing for you.
“Fuck y/n.” Rafe moaned out, “I'm gonna miss this.”
You were a little confused, but if you were being honest, you were barely listening to Rafe anyway, too emotionally broken to pay attention to whatever he was saying.
“Can't be with a bitch who would fuck a pogue,” Rafe grunted out.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!
Wanna see more? Check out my fic Sweet little lies.
Also tagging @necroflame (bc I lied about the post time to many times 😭) and @fabienne6656 for the idea!!! Thx bye..
593 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 28 days
Note
Can I request a part 3 to "unrequited"?
A/N I honestly was not planning another part to this story. I'm just gonna... leave this here. (Pls don't hate me guys. This is so genuinely the only path I could think of for this story that I liked.)
Unrequited pt. 3 (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Um. Alastor is dark/yandere in this part. Uh. Unhealthy relationship. Yeah.
Word Count: 2,094
Previous Parts:
Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)
Unrequited Pt. 2
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Tumblr media
Alastor had cornered her in the hall. The years, the games, the challenges, none of it was fun anymore. It all came to an end tonight. There was no other option, not when she could die tomorrow. The angels were coming, and they were coming for the hotel.
"I don't want you here tomorrow."
"What!?" Y/n exclaimed in utter shock.
She hadn't known what to expect when Alastor had stopped her as she made her way downstairs to the bar. Everyone was supposed to be having a drink together, celebrating their afterlives that there was a chance they might loose. She didn't know what to expect but, she certainly hadn't expected this.
Alastor had been acting weird lately. He was always weird but ever since the day with Husk in the hallway, he'd been weird even by those standards. He was always finding something for Y/n to do that put her near him, always watching. It was irritating. They had been fighting a lot and Alastor still had yet to apologize to Husk.
"I don't want you at the hotel tomorrow. You are not coming near this fight."
"What the fuck, Alastor?" Y/n nearly stamped her foot on the floor, she crossed her arms and glared at the demon, "I... these are my friends. This is my home. I will do what I can to protect it."
"No, you wont. You wont be here." he paused, "I will use our little deal to make sure of that, if need be."
Y/n scoffed. Her anger was a fiery, radiant thing. Alastor found himself thinking she had always reminded him quite a bit of a lioness when she got like this. The thought had been an accident, he couldn't afford to be distracted. Not when these were the stakes. Alastor pushed it away.
"You fucking... literally why? Like, what? I... sorry, just taking me a bit to process this: the demon who tricked me into selling my soul to them is now going to use that contract to take me, a valuable asset, out of a war which we cannot afford to loose?"
"Yes." Alastor nodded.
"Because?" Y/n prompted in irritation after a moment.
Alastor sighed.
"Y/n, think about what could happen if you are here."
"The same thing that could happen to any one here!" Y/n threw her arms up in exasperation, gesticulating her frustration as she spoke, "The same thing you're forcing on Husk and Nifty, have you had this chat with either of them?"
Alastor didn't respond. It was all the answer she needed.
"Yeah, I didn't fucking think so!" she scoffed, "So it's okay for everyone to risk their lives -- it's okay for you to risk your life even, but not me? Its okay for you to force my friends to risk their lives, but you're going to force me to stay out of it? Listen to yourself, you sound ridiculous."
"We don't need your help. You're slow, you will only hold us back."
The comment he had hope would dampen Y/n's spirit, bend her will into submission, only added to her fire.
"I'm... that's bullshit and we both know it. I might be small, but so is Nifty. Everyone has skills they can offer. I know how to fight, how to survive, and we will have angelic weapons for Christ's sake. Like, I really don't understand what the issue your having is here."
"Y/n, just... no." Alastor shook his head, a hand to his temples, "No. You will not be here tomorrow. I forbid it. I'm sending you to stay with Rosie."
"What am I, your kid?" Y/n sneered.
Alastor looked over at her, his hand falling from his forehead.
"Just please, Y/n." he took a step forward, pulling her hands into his. Alastor took a deep breath. "For me."
Y/n's eyes went wide. Alastor could see the conflict, the swirling emotions. Anger turned to grief, mixed with gratitude, and became anger again. A never ending cycle.
His heart pounded against his chest, it fought him valiantly for release. It had been so long. So long since she'd looked at him with anything other than disgust, so long since she had let him touch her like this.
Y/n settled on confusion as her dominant emotion and pulled her hands from his grasp. Alastor mourned the contact, his hands still held up in the air where hers had met them as Y/n took a step away.
"Why."
It wasn't a question. Y/n commanded information and at the end of the day, he may own her soul but she owned his heart. Alastor felt like in some way, she always had. He couldn't bear the thought of loosing her but, he didn't know if he could handle the rejection either. There was no way, no chance, she would believe him if he told her too much of the truth but, lying wouldn't work either. It would have to be a careful balance, a calculated withholding of information. Too much was riding on tomorrow, on tonight, on this very moment.
"Because I don't want you to die."
Y/n's brow furrowed even further, their eyes growing wider still as she stumbled another step back. Her back was nearly against the wall now, there wasn't anywhere else she could go.
Her eyes flitted around the space fervently. Her lips formed words that never left her mouth. Alastor watched, stress eating him alive. At last, Y/n did something. She brought her hands to her head and sunk to the floor, her knees pulled into her chest.
"What are you doing to me." she muttered softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear.
For what felt like the thousandth time, Alastor felt a little piece of his heart fracture off. He didn't know how much more he could take of this before there was nothing left to break, nothing left to loose. She looked up at him, her hands still holding either side of her head and her eyes wet with tears.
"Why do you care?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. There was an insistence in her voice, a pleading. He stood in indecision for a moment, frozen by want, by need, by fear. His body took over as he took a step towards Y/n. Alastor kneeled down in front of her.
With great care, with a familiarity and gentleness Y/n hadn't felt from him in years, Alastor untangled her fingers from her hair. He held her hands in his once again and this time, he wasn't going to let go.
"Because I care about you."
Shock at his own bravery emanated from his chest. Alastor held his breath.
"You..." Y/n's eyes hardened, "I wish you'd stop messing with my head like this. Its not funny."
"Y/n, I'm not messing. I am not playing a game, I'm not..." Alastor sighed, letting go of one of Y/n's hands and running his hand through his hair as he looked to the side.
Taking a deep breath, he turned back to face her, grabbing her free hand once again.
"I don't know what I can do to prove it to you, that I'm not. But I will keep you safe. No matter what, you will not be here tomorrow."
"Please, Alastor."
His heart stopped. He couldn't recall the last time she'd asked him for anything that wasn't to leave her, Husk, and Nifty, alone. He couldn't recall the last time she'd seemed to fragile in his arms.
"Please, they're... they're my family. I can't..." a single tear rolled down Y/n's cheek, "I can't just leave them."
"I..."
There was a moment, a split second where he almost agreed. Alastor's eyes narrowed. He dropped Y/n's hands and got back to his feet. She adjusted her position in response, nearly kneeling before him.
"Please, Alastor. Let me help them. Let me do what I can to protect my family. Please. I'll do anything you want... I'll..."
It almost worked. Alastor felt his purpose waver again. Then the fear came back. He had already lost so much. His mother, his humanity, his own soul and free will. Alastor refused to add Y/n to the list of things that were so far out of his reach. He just couldn't. He didn't care if she hated him for the rest of eternity, as long as it meant she was safe at his side.
"No." he shook his head, his heart hardening, "You forget, you already have to do whatever I want. You forget, I own you."
Y/n's scream of anger as the shadows took her was muffled as she was sucked into their portal. Alastor stood, watching the spot she had been in for a few moments and then, he doubled over in pain. It shot through him in spikes, in daggers. It was the first time he had told her that. Not once before had Alastor ever said those three words to Y/n, not even when they had first made their deal. I own you.
The guilt, the regret, all of it underpinned by the overwhelming love. It had been trapped for so long, so sheltered and pushed back in the recesses of his mind that it had twisted. The love had become obsessive, dangerous, hungry.
With a breath, Alastor stood straight once again. Pushing his composure back to the surface, he smoothed his hair and went down to the bar to inform everyone of his decision. He may have forced Y/n to do something she didn't want to, fracturing things further than he'd believed possible, but he wasn't going to blame her for it. Alastor was used to being the villain and hopefully, in this case, he wouldn't have to be. Hopefully, they would understand.
Y/n gasped for breath as she was let out of the shadow portal. Panting on all fours, slowly she brought herself back together. Y/n had met Rosie before, once or twice. She knew she was a kind soul at heart, a reasonable person, and she knew that Rosie's cannibals were the main force of their army tomorrow. All she had to do was convince the overlord to let her join them, and it would be okay.
Taking a deep breath to restore her confidence, Y/n looked up. Her heart dropped.
"No."
She got to her feet, looking carefully around the decrepit old radio tower.
"No. Nonono."
Her breaths becoming panicked, she ran to the door. It was locked. Taking a step back, she kicked it harshly. The firm wood didn't budge.
Driven by adrenaline alone, Y/n ran to the windows and began to hit them with all her might. None of them so much as trembled.
"No!"
She looked wildly around the space and, spotting Alastor's chair, picked it up. Y/n hurled it at the window. There was a crash and for a split second, there was hope. That was until she realized it was the chair that had broken, not the window.
"No! No!"
Turning back to the door, she hurled her body repeatedly against it. Each time, she got the biggest running start she could. Each time, there was no change at all, nothing happened. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes, she was long past panicked now.
"NO!"
After about twenty minutes, Y/n was out of breath and exhausted. Her whole body hurt and her face was sticky with tears. She sat at the door, her back pressed against it and her knees pulled into her chest. Burying her face in her legs, she sobbed.
Everyone was at the hotel, except for her. Everyone was preparing to fight for and protect what they loved, except for her. What would they think? What would they say? Much more importantly, would they make it out?
A sudden fear gripped her, a fist around her heart. Would she ever see any of them again? Y/n's sobs redoubled.
"Fucking..."
She sniffed, her panic and grief quickly fixing itself back in the shape of the familiar anger. She could see him in her minds eye, that moment his eyes had softened, that moment she thought that maybe he had been telling the truth all along, that they really had been friends, that he really did care.
"I hate you Alastor!" she screamed to herself, alone in the dark, "I hate you and I will continue to hate you until the day I fucking die again!"
----
A/N I love an irredeemable villain and doomed, misshapen love. I'm sorry to anyone who wanted this to end up happy.
557 notes · View notes
motherofdogs1010 · 14 days
Text
Of Messiahs and Seeds I (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...
Warnings: eventual 18+, dark!fic, eventual forced marriage, eventual NONCON, eventual pregnancy, dark!Paul Atreides, more to come as story progresses
A/N: Reader is inspired by Daenarys Targaryen with dragons and Sailor Moon's Silver Crystal lol, so I hope you all enjoy!! Terra is similar to Earth, I imagined Lord York to be Tyrion Lannister so please picture that
Tumblr media
😈 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😈 Banner by @vase-of-lilies
Part II
Tumblr media
"Terra Millennium stands as a enomely in the universe for their rejection against the Empire", the hologram records said. "A two-century long battle was waged for the planet through the Great Houses yet the people won through the help of someone they have since called 'The Conqueror'."
Paul had heard of the Terra Millennium, their planet one of lush greenery, vast oceans and an abundance of resources that the previous Emperor had tried countless times to harvest just as House Harkonnen had done with the Spice on Arrakis, but alas, no one had ever been successful in mining Terra Millennium. He had heard that they experience something called 'seasons', he wondered what that was.
Just as he had done with Arrakis, Paul sat in his private room, watching hologram clips of Terra Millennium as his fleet flew to the planet to finally land conquest through the help of the Fremen.
"Anthropologists have never been able to stay long on the planet or among the people, but what has been gathered is the people have rejected the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, labeling it as hertic literature."
Terra Millennium was an odd planet with an odd people who had unusually long live spans, being able to live into their thousands without a single wrinkle or grey, they repented against the Bene Gesserit, the use of the Spice; he had heard of the people of that land believing solely in the ruling Queens because of a crystal, one of immense power that was sought after.
"Characterized by their white hair, the ruling House of L/N have upheld the traditional values of the planet, which has a population of over 1 billion. Only female heirs have been able to inherit the throne and it is rumored that a single crystal that is worn by every ruling Queen is said to hold immense power that has granted its people longevity, peace and prosperity."
A knock interrupted his research, Paul seeing Stilgar walk in followed by Gurney.
"Muad'Dib, we have touched land on Terra Millennium", Stilgar said, "they have responded to our communication message."
"What did they say?" he asked, Gurney chuckled.
"They said if we proceed with our mission, they will see it as an act of war", Gurney said, "they're real hard asses here."
"You've been, Gurney?" Paul asked, curious.
"Once", Gurney replied, "I came with your father on a diplomatic assignment, but that was with their previous Queen Helene. This one is new, just coronated a few months ago."
He thought back to the new dreams he had been having of a woman whose hair was the color of white that hung down near the ground in large curls, whose eyes were hard and the color of lilac with the roar of a great beast that rung in his ears when he would awaken from his dreams.
Unlike his dreams with Chani, these felt different now that he had drunken the Water of Life. His visions of the woman consisted of a gentle breeze sweeping through her hair, it curling around her as she was dressed in a long, white silk dress that clung to her body and trailed in a long train behind her with woven golden in the upper bodice. She stood on a tall pillar of crystal, a tall scepter in her hands that she was raising above her head as the breeze picked up.
Tumblr media
Soon, the dreams melted in a great war as crystals encapsulating him, a bright light that blinded him yet filled him with warmth and security.
"Show them the full might of the Empire", Paul said, "after all, they are in the presence of the Muad'Dib."
And it was those eyes that greeted him when he finally set foot on the pavement of Terra Millennium with its tall structures that were made of variously colored crystals.
Tumblr media
Neo-Queen Amaris was the regal name Y/N had chosen to go by when she took the throne a mere few months ago. Of course, she went by her name, Y/N in private with those closets to her and only by her regal name with others.
Y/N had heard the rumors of the new Emperor wanting to claim her home, her people; he wanted to bring her planet into the vastly growing empire that he ruled under as a supposed Messiah to the Fremen and Bene Gesserit: Muad'Dib. Everyone had heard of how he supposedly liberated Arrakis and the Fremen people, marrying Princess Irulan as a political move to secure his position as the new Emperor.
Only a few days ago did a message come into their Communication's Hub from the Emperor about finally claiming Terra Millennium for not only himself but for the Fremen as it would be their 'Green Paradise'.
War will come to Terra Millennium if you refuse to submit, the message read.
"My Queen", her advisor, Lord York, said as she sat on her throne. "Reports have come in that the Atreides fleet has made contact on the landing pad near the Capital. Scouts have seen the Atreides Army beginning to get ready."
Lord York was a man of small stature with a head full of bronze curls and dark brown eyes that always looked calculated as if he was already ten steps ahead.
Y/N looked over at Lord York before bringing a hand to the crystal that hung around her neck on a chain that could never be removed from her neck before slowly standing up from her throne that was encrusted in gemstones.
"I believe it is time we greet them", she said, looking over her court. "After all, hospitality is what our people are known for."
And it is not like they have any chance of having their weapons working; outside weaponry not from Terra M had no chance of working and she wondered what their reactions would be once they realized this.
"But before we go", Lord York said, "may I make a suggestion?"
Y/N made a motion to the man, who gave a nod and said, "I believe it is our Queen's best interest to wear your ancestor, The Conqueror's crown and scepter to greet our guests. It would show the great strength you possess, a message to not only the Great Houses but the Emperor as well."
"That sounds like a great idea."
Tumblr media
"You are the presence of our Neo-Queen", a man said with a thick facial beard, "first of her name, descendant of our goddess Selene and The Conqueror, wielder of the great Silver Crystal, Mother of all, Neo-Queen Amaris."
Paul watched as the man motioned to the woman he had been dreaming about, he could see that as the breeze came that she wore no shoes; all the Terrians didn't despite their silken clothes as they stood amongst the tall crystal structures. They had landed as close to the Capital, finding that there was a landing pad despite the relatively isolated nature of the planet.
"I welcome you, Paul of House Atreides", she said with a stoic expression. "But now you must leave."
The woman, their Queen Amaris, looked upon them with a hint of annoyance as she held a large scepter in one hand that was as tall as Duncan Idaho had been with gold and gem embellishments, but what was curious was that at the top of the scepter where it looked as if a missing piece was needed. The crown she wore on her head was large, glittering in diamonds and curved up into a point as she stood there, her hair having a few small braids that pulled the framing hair away with kiss curls on her forehead.
"Leave?" Paul said with some amusement.
Irulan stood next to him dressed in a silver mesh outfit, a metal hair net that connected over into her dress that held down her short blonde hair. Paul was glad that he Voiced the woman to stop talking, she would not stop and frankly, he had no desire to try and pursue a romantic relationship with the woman after Chani chose to leave further into Arrakis.
His mother stood amongst them, holding the bundled form of his sister, Alia.
"I did not realize a Emperor could have poor hearing", Amaris said, "you are not welcome on Terra Millennium nor do we plan on allowing for you to colonize us. Terra M remains alone."
Paul took in the way she spoke, her accent one he had never heard before and the formal way of speaking. He noticed the large gem that hung around her neck, it sparkled in the sunlight as she stood there and looked to be the size of a her palm.
"Also, we did not apperciate your Bene Gesserit coming", she continued, "spreading their heretic language, you will find them in the Prisoner's Bay."
"You don't believe in the Muad'Dib, the Kwisatz Haderach?" Paul asked.
"We believe in our Queen, may her reign be as prosperous as Selene", the bearded man said.
The Queen just looked at him with contempt, he saw her lip curl a little in annoyance.
And it was that look that made something stir deep in Paul and made him feel something that he never felt before. She looked at him as if he was a bug ready to be squashed underneath her foot
Tumblr media
He wanted to possess the woman in front of him, at all costs and he didn't care who he had to kill... he was going to.
677 notes · View notes
perlelune · 4 months
Text
no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | i.
Tumblr media
Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
Tumblr media
Birdsong fills your ears as you meticulously unearth the last few weeds in the soil. Careful to not damage the stems, you pull gently while barely disturbing the dirt. The last step is pruning. With ginger motions, you cut each crooked branch pointing in the wrong direction. Beads of sweat drip down from your forehead into the soil.
The heat from the sun is unforgiving today.
But you welcome the labor, even with the sweltering weather. Time flies when you spend it in the garden.
It’s a welcome distraction, the kind you’ve sorely craved as of late. Idleness does you no good. It often ends with you curled beneath your blankets, drowning in a puddle of your own tears.
Each day you wake up hoping none of it was real.
The harsh reality swiftly claims its right however.
It’s everywhere. All the painful little reminders. 
The empty chair at the dinner table. All the spots he loved in the house, now desolate without him. His untouched room, lacking the messiness he usually favored.
And there’s all the times you turn, words tingling on your tongue, hoping he’ll be there to listen to you as always.
Then you remember.
Your brother can never listen to you again. And neither will you listen to him.
You’ll never hear his stupid laugh again or his crazy stories.
And your whole life you’ll turn, hoping to see him standing right there, beside you, but he will not be here.
Your grip on the shears loosen. They hit the vibrant green grass with a quiet thud.
You lift your eyes to admire your handiwork.
The garden looks nice; the flowers are thriving. The roses in particular.
They have bloomed wonderfully this year, having blushed to a gorgeous scarlet.
Your heart sinks. 
If only Sejanus were here to see it. Your brother spent most of his life helping you tend to this garden. Whenever he wasn’t busy at the Academy or with the various tasks Strabo had for him, your brother was here, with you.
You both worked in silence, basking in the warmth of the sun and the pleasure of each other’s company.
The garden turns into a watercolor rainbow before you as your eyes well up with tears.
“We have company, sweetie.”
You swivel towards the familiar airy tone your mother often uses. She often emphasizes the importance of poise and decorum in every situation. Even in the current situation, your mother’s held her head high. Still, you don’t miss the subtle red rims around her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks. 
Like you, she’s suffering. While you may not share blood with your family, having been adopted when you were three, your bond with your mother has always been as strong as if she gave birth to you.
Confusion has your brows collide into each other.
“Company? We weren’t expecting anyone.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, gripping your shoulders. Heartbreak flashes in her eyes, the same soulful ones as her departed son. “I’m hurting too, but you can’t hide forever.”
She cups your face and advises, “Go put on a nice dress, and wash up some. You have dirt on your face.” Disapproval pinches your mother’s features as she gauges your disheveled appearance. She sighs. "You know you don’t have to do that. This is what we have staff for."
Help. You suppose your mother refers to the Avoxes who tend to the yard sometimes. The sight of them fills you with rage and disgust.
Just one of the Capitol’s many crimes against its own people. Who would even clip someone’s tongue as punishment, then have them serve their tormentors?
It’s beyond vile and sadistic. But what else to expect from a place that openly sponsors child murder?
At times, you feel as if you’re living amongst beasts masquerading as human beings.
Still, you feign nonchalance. Some opinions cannot be voiced aloud, even to your parents. Especially to your parents.
"It calms me down," you explain, shedding your gloves and removing your wide-brimmed hat.
“Sweetie…”
She gives you yet another lecture on proper ladylike behavior. As usual, you only listen with half an ear, checking out about five minutes into her querulous spiel.
You’ve heard it at least a million times before. Still, you indulge her like the dutiful daughter you are.
She then reminds you to get dressed. You don’t have to be told twice.
You head to the back door connecting the garden to your room. 
While you do as you’ve been instructed, inquiries crowd your mind. Your parents haven’t been too fond of visitors lately. Besides, what kind of company requires you to dress up?
As you head to your massive closet, you wonder who’d visit your family at such a time. 
Your mother’s refrained from entertaining altogether and your father’s poured all his energy in his business, turning down most social calls. 
You randomly pick a dress, a pale blue one with a sweetheart neckline, before making your way downstairs.
Faint chatter echoes from the sunroom near your father’s office. You follow the hushed voices.
Astonishment rushes through you when you realize who’s having tea with your father.
You haven’t seen him since reaping day.
“Coriolanus?” you gasp.
He stands to his full height at the sound of you calling his name. Your surprise multiplies. 
He seems so…different, yet you can’t pinpoint what exactly about him elicits that impression within you. After all, he's still the same tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed, dashing young man you knew before. 
But something has changed. You can feel it.
Even the air around him moves in a different way, it seems.
He makes his way to you, surprising you further by grabbing your hand and brushing his lips over the back of it.
“You look lovely,” he mumbles, cobalt eyes finding yours.
Warmth rushes to your cheeks. You don’t remember Coriolanus ever being so…chivalrous. 
“T-Thank you,” you stammer.
“I’ll let you two kids catch up,” your father states, nodding at the blond before taking his leave. 
“How are you holding up?” the young man asks, escorting you to a nearby bench. 
It occurs to you that he’s still holding your hand, his long slender fingers curled around yours. Cheeks aflame once again, you draw it back and tuck it in your lap.
Coriolanus’ brow twitches at your tiny gesture.
“I…Dad said you were the one who brought the box with his things. That was so thoughtful of you.”
A subtle smile spreads on his lips.
“It’s nothing.”
“No, it means a lot,” you insist, shaking your head. “Any part of him it’s…it’s important to keep it.”
You fidget as he studies you, his crystalline gaze unreadable.
“But you have the most important part with you all the time. In the end it’s all we have, right? Our memories.”
Your heart swells with warmth.  He’s right, you surmise. After all, every memory of your brother is yours. Forever. They will never be taken away.
You’re a little taken aback though. Who knew Coriolanus Snow to be so sentimental? 
“Thanks, Coryo.”
His mouth tenses at the nickname but his tight-lipped smile expands. You used to call him that when you were little, having witnessed Tigris do it. It stuck and he never corrected you.
“I missed you. I think the last time you came to our house you were like seven or eight, right?” A soft giggle leaves your lips. “Janus had to drag you there. He kept asking and you always said no.”
He shrugs.
“All the other kids were picking on him. I didn’t want to make it worse for him.”
Your voice softens. “But you never did. Pick on him I mean.” They may not have been the closest but you remembered how much it meant to Sejanus at the time, that at least one kid in his class wasn’t harassing him for being from a district. While some thought he was merely upholding the grace befitting his name and status, you believed otherwise. You’ve always been convinced that beneath the sturdy layer of indifference he drapes over himself, Coriolanus is kinder than he seems. He was kind to you after all.
He spoke to you many times, even playing with you when many other children wouldn’t. Over the years, you grew a bit apart but he’s always been sweet whenever you ran into each other. 
“So, what have you been up to?” he asks, changing the subject.
You sigh. “Not much,” you admit. “Gardening, reading, going to class. The preparations for the wedding take up most of my time anyway.”
His jaw ticks as a slight crease appears on his forehead.
“A wedding? Are you helping someone plan their wedding?”
“No…It’s for my wedding actually.”
Your engagement ring glimmers, catching the sunlight as you show it to him.
Coriolanus’ frown deepens.
“You’re engaged? I didn’t realize.”
Enthusiastic, you nod. “Yeah, he’s amazing. We met at Uni. Dad doesn’t like him too much though.”
This seems to catch his interest, his head leaning sideways.
“Is that so?”
“His family’s from the districts…and Dad said his breeding will drag down to our name.”
Just saying it boils your blood. How hypocritical of your father when the Plinth house had its roots in District 2. Sometimes, it stuns you how far your father’s strayed from the plight of his own people, going as far as sponsoring and financing the barbaric practice the Hunger Games are. 
Sejanus never stood for it, rightfully so. 
It’s one of the many reasons you miss him. He never embraced the horrors of Panem, fighting against your father’s plans for him at every turn. In the end, it even got him killed. 
“He just wants what’s best for you." He pauses, plucking your hand from your lap. His long fingers twine with yours. His tone dips, oozing concern. "I do too. You deserve the best. I hope you know that.”
A wave of emotions engulfs you. You don’t notice you’ve begun shedding tears until he reaches up to your face, using his thumbs to collect them. 
You give a watery smile.
“Thank you. For everything. For the box. For coming.”
He traces your tear-stained cheek with his finger. 
“I should have reached out more," he says, glistening blue eyes locking with yours.
Your hands cover his. You never expected in a million to hear such words leaving Coriolanus’ mouth. He’s always been so…aloof.
This is the kind of change you can only welcome. You often hoped Coriolanus would open himself more to others.
“It’s okay. We can catch up now. Make up for lost time," you chime.
His lips twist upward. "Right. We have all the time in the world."
Struck with the abrupt realization of your closeness, the way he cups your face being easy to misconstrue for an onlooker, you scoot backwards and clear your throat. 
Flames tickle your cheeks.
You’d be lying if you said you never harbored a little crush on the handsome heir of House Snow growing up. He on the other end, never seemed to notice you, his attention always on girls like Clemmie or Arachne. It makes sense, you suppose. They are, after all, cut from the same cloth. Bonded by generations upon generations of hoarded wealth and an elusive code of rules and conduct you never fully grasped.
The mere way you hold a cup of tea gives you away. 
But it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re older now and about to get married. You can’t wander the wistful lands of childhood fantasies anymore. 
So while keeping a careful distance, you offer solemnly, “I… Dad is attending this fundraiser tonight…to funnel the promotion funds for the next Hunger Games." Your brow furrows as disdain coats your tone. You can’t believe plans to repeat this ghastly tradition are being set in motion. "I didn’t want to go but he wants the family to present a strong front." 
You pointedly omit to speak of your father’s blackmail and all he threatened to take from you if you didn’t show up, starting with the roof over your head.
See how well you fare as district trash, how long it takes you to crawl back home and beg for scraps.
You discard Strabo’s harsh warning to the deepest recesses of your mind. While you know he loves you, he also doesn’t tolerate any misstep from you. They took you in after all, saved you from a life of misery. Otherwise you’d have grown up an orphan. Instead, you get to live a lavish, easy existence in the lap of luxury, now the heir apparent to the Plinth fortune since Janus has passed.
You’re grateful, of course, for all they gave you. You just hate having to forsake your origins and partake passively in the slaughter of innocent children. Once you’re at the helm of the company, you’ll do everything in your power to stir up change. Every tidal wave begins with a small ripple. Perhaps one day all those tiny ripples will come together and form a tsunami, one that’ll wash away the sins of the Capitol and too many years of injustice.
"You should come. I could introduce you to my fiancé,” you offer.
Hopefully seeing both of them in one place will cement which one of them is your past and which one is your present. You don’t like the way a single touch from him flustered you so easily.
While you’re thrilled to resume your friendship with him, you and Coriolanus can never be more than that. 
Besides the obvious matter of your impending nuptials, the two of you are so different. There has to be someone out there for him, some lucky girl that’ll make him so happy. And you bet he’ll make her happy too. 
One thing's for sure however. That girl isn’t you. 
Coriolanus sizes you up before giving a slow reply.
“I look forward to it,” he says.
2K notes · View notes
witchywandaaa · 6 months
Text
 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 : 𝘐𝘐 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ — 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵; 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦…
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — w𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ — 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵!!, 𝘵𝘰𝘱!𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬!𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 (𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘨!𝘱 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢, 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 (𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦?, 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 & 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ— 𝟮𝗸
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ —  𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰���� 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩!
(ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ ʜᴇʀᴇ)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜
Her hands pushed you into the wall, your palms catching yourself from you going face first into the wall. It got harder to breathe; you started feeling the effects of fear creep in, and your adrenaline wasn’t going to be able to help you out of this situation… 
Due to the aftermath of Wanda using her magic to convert a town in the middle of New Jersey into 'Westview', she had caused the unlocking of deeper abilities (due to the usage of dark magic), opening up a portal where the Scarlet Witch could take over Wanda's body, and do all the dark things Wanda would never do but the Scarlet Witch would. The truth was, the Scarlet Witch’s friend, Agnes Harkness, had dared her to explore her magic and, well, see the deeper things she could do with her power... When she searched the multiverse, she had come across you. You had a loud brain, and it was annoying to the telepathic witch, yet so captivating, and then she saw your face, and your eyes, and your body, and those legs. You had captured the witches attention unknowingly, and perhaps the insomnia you had was due to the constant thinking the witch was doing for you...
She watched as you went to the store, she watched when you arrived home, when you talked to your friend on the phone, when you showered, she watched as you struggled to sleep, your tossing and turning, and when you decided on turning on the laptop, that made you squint when it turned on, the bright light blinding you.
Presently, when she whispered a few words to herself to teleport back to her home, she had created a spell to find exactly what you were doing, and an visage of you logging into a certain chatroom website was shown to her, so the Scarlet Witch had made herself an account on this website, in hopes of finding you, and when she did, she just couldn’t leave you alone. She found herself wanting to explore her powers like Agnes said, but not exactly how Agnes intended it. Wanda The Scarlet Witch wanted you eagerly, and she wasn’t certainly going to let you slip away, especially when you looked as gorgeous as you did, so fuck-able, she just wanted to have you to herself.
Her hands were on your hips, her eyes grazing over your backside, before a hand went to slap your ass, causing you to gasp. Then her hands gripped onto your hips as her front pressed into your back roughly and her left hand pulled you from the wall, finding a grip on your neck and her other hand on your abdomen.
You tugged away from her, pushing yourself into and away from her in attempt to escape.
“Don’t fight it” She whispered, her voice raspy in your ear, sending goosebumps to form on the exposed parts of your skin. “I know you want me to fuck you”
Her lips placed rough kisses on your neck, sucking and biting causing moans to spill from your mouth, her lips curled into a smirk, then her hands slipped into you shorts, your body froze. Her eyes dropped down watching as you reacted to her long fingers rubbing your clit desperately. You writhed, trying to get free from her grip, but you couldn’t tell if you actually wanted to run when the new feeling of her rough fingers against you causing you to buck your hips. Your mouth let out strained moans. Her lips kissed the skin behind your ear, bitting your ear lobe, and your eyes flickered shut, head tilting in desire for more.
“Why don’t you step out of those shorts and let mommy fuck you properly honey?”
She let go of you, and your heart raced, your mind working at a million a second, and a new found adrenaline you had caused you to quickly run to the window, trying to pry it open and escape. You could practically hear her roll her eyes and sigh from behind you, and it felt like the world was in slow motion, with you begging for the window to open even by a bit so you could throw yourself out. But to your luck it was stuck. You felt your face flush in realisation that you weren’t going to get out, and the tears that welded up in your eyes falling onto your cheeks as you heard slow footsteps behind you, causing the floor boards to creek.
Then you suddenly felt a pair of arms pull you up and push you on the ground, you whimpered out as you felt your knees bruise. You eyes looking up at her pleadingly, pleading for her to not hurt you. But she had other plans.
She bent down, her hands went to tug your shorts off, and then your panties, you tried to pull away from her but the flash of red in her eyes gave her a new unnatural ability over you.
“No! Please-!” You struggled, you knew it was wrong, you knew you were potentially going to die tonight but your body reacted in ways that yearned for her touch.
“Get up” She ordered, you obeyed instantaneously.
Her fingers slipped into you almost immediately, causing you to stumble onto the wall behind you. The Scarlet Witch laughed, her eyes watching moans erupt from your mouth, as your body involuntarily moved closer to her, causing her fingers to go in deeper. Her eyes darkened and her lips pressed flat.
“Naughty girl… all hot for mommy huh?” She said as she felt how wet you had become. Your eyes flickered shut as you felt her body press against you, the rough texture of her red and black suit against your naked chest? 
Your eyes flickered open for a brief moment to notice your shirt had disappeared and so had your bra. You looked back into her eyes, terrified, her hand caressed your face, as she added another finger roughly pounding into you. 
“Ah-“ You moaned out, your thighs betraying you as you felt your body go limb, and her fingers inside of you felt like a rush till the pain was overwhelmed with pleasure. Her lips connected with yours kissing you roughly, and you could taste the desperation on her lips, and you wondered if she could hear your thoughts like she was rumoured to have, if she knew all along you wanted this as much as she does.
“Fuck you look so good like this- getting fucked by me, you look better when you let me” She spoke.
You felt yourself orgasm all over her fingers, and she smirked, increasing her speed. As your legs began to turn into jelly, she took her fingers out of you and pushed the two into you mouth, watching you give in a suck her fingers. 
“Do I have to hold you down, or will you be able to follow simple instructions now shlyukha?”
“No!-“ Your voice was muffled against her fingers, she pulled them out.
“No what?” She tilted her head as she towered over you, you felt nervous under her gaze.
“I can follow instructions” You spoke almost immediately, you didn’t want this is be harder than it already was, your knees were already bruised from fighting her, and you knew there was no point in it. And besides, you really were enjoying it…
She let go of you, and for a brief moment you looked down to notice hand prints on your hips. Her eyes glazed over your bedroom, and with a smirk her eyes settled on your bed, the laptop you were once communicating with her on sat on your bed-stand. She walked over to your bed, sitting comfortably on it, and then gesturing you over.
“Come sit on my lap baby”
Your face blushed a shade of dark red as she sat on your bed half naked, you walked over, your legs still shaky. 
Her hands pushed your hips up, watching you as you positioned yourself on her, your hands gripping on the bed stand, gasping as you felt her slowly enter you. Wait? What was that inside of you?
“Ride me” She whispered out, her lips leaning over to your ear, your body shivered at her words.
“I know you want me, so show me. I’m already being fair by not punishing you for the stunt you pulled earlier…“  She said, her eyes pierced into yours, and you noticed the pretty green colour of them that you didn’t notice before, well, because they were red before.
Your body wanted her so badly, your mind was at conflict with the way your body was feeling, your mind was telling you to run, fear for your life, and you didn’t know if that was what made this whole experience so euphoric, the mixture of pain and pleasure, the mixture of danger and desire. You had never felt such intense pleasure, and the fear only enhanced it. 
Her hands hung loosely around your hips as you bounced up and down at a moderate pace, moaning out softly at the feeling of her inside of you, stretching you out. She groaned out. You watched the pleasure on her face.
You let go of the stand, bouncing up and down as she placed rough kisses on you neck, and her hands fondled your breasts.
“You can go faster” She said, watching you with amusement as you bounced faster, your moans getting louder, before you returned back to the comfortable pace.
She groaned even more, desiring more from you, and then she gave in, grabbing onto your hips as she thrusted in and out of you. You gasped, as you gripped onto her shoulders, your nails digging into her back as loud moans filled the air. 
“Slow down” You manage to mutter out.
“Oh baby- you can handle it” She dismissed, you felt tears fall down your cheeks again, as her strap was rough inside your tight pussy. The Scarlet Witch was having a great time though, her hands all over your body as the sound of pleasure left your lips as you orgasmed over and over again, it made her feel more powerful, the fact that she was fucking someone so pretty like you, and making you such a mess for her. 
Soon her pace slowed down and your breathing was back to normal, you caught your breath as you felt yourself come down from that continuous high, and you bit your lip as you found yourself wanting more. However, your moment of zen was cut off when you looked ahead and into the red eyes of the Scarlet Witch, her mind reading yours, as a smirk grazed her lips. Your heart raced, her hands were on you bed, holding herself up as you sat in her lap the strap still inside of you. 
“You get even more gorgeous after I've fucked you, you know that?” She spoke, her hand went to push a strand of hair behind your ear, you looked back at your body frozen, eyes wide.
“Do you still want more? Hm?” She whispered out, leaning over to kiss the corner of your lips roughly. You gasped as you felt her strap move inside you.
You nodded shamefully. She smirked, chuckling darkly at your never-ending neediness.
“Use your words- tell me what you want” She commanded.
“I want more” You practically whispered out, avoiding her gaze.
“More of…?” She spoke, tilting her head as she watched your nervous expression and your cheeks flush pink.
“I want you to fuck me more, mommy” You admitted. 
“I like that on your lips, it turns me on, can you say it again?” She responded, bitting her lip.
“I want you to fuck me more mommy...” You spoke again, more confidently this time.
Her lips curled into a smile, and her hands pushed your back into the bed.
“Open your legs for me baby.” She spoke, her voice seemed excited, and as you slowly parted your legs, her eyes darkened with desire. “Yess- just like that, good girl” 
She moved her head towards your centre, licking a stripe down your folds causing your body to jolt up. Her hands gripped on the back of your thighs as she lifted your lower body up slightly, her eyes on you as her mouth fucked you. Breathy moans left your mouth, and your back started to ache at the position she had you in. You could feel her tongue inside of you, as your head started spinning…
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・
You opened your eyes, half of your naked body was covered with a blanket, that was coming off due to your tossing and turning in your sleep. There was a soft breeze in the air, cold and prickly to your skin though. Goosebumps formed on your skin, due to the curtains being left open, letting in the air from outside in from an open window, which you did not remember opening. Events of the previous evening flooded your mind once you turned to look at the laptop, which shut on your bed-stand. You felt your heart race at the remembrance of that night, and you began to question your own sanity, and if it actually occurred… 
But you got your confirmation when you noticed a familiar pink post-it-note, that was supposed to be in your drawer but instead it was on top of your laptop. Walking over to get a closer look, you plucked it off the laptop, and read it. 
‘I hope to see you soon, perhaps we could do this night again? -scarletwitch89’
Did you just have a one night stand with 'The Scarlet Witch'?
1K notes · View notes