#is this soft!robert pronge hour | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babyjakes · 4 months

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devils roll the dice.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | sex tape + medfet

pairing | hitman!robert pronge x innocent!reader

warnings | extremely dark, the darkest thing i've ever written (we've entered dead dove do not eat territory; please heed ALL warnings.) canon-level mature themes: kidnapping, torture films, murder. implications that reader will be killed. robert is cold and ruthless. innocent!virgin!reader. filming of illicit sex tape. reader is blindfolded and gagged. restraints. medfet elements: robert's little setup is giving vintage white tile exam room, exam table, stirrups, those gd black gloves, speculum use. clit focus (puff puff content incoming.) vibrator. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. mocking and degradation. robert puts a cig out on reader's leg. written in 3rd person idk.

word count | 1,485

an | i'm kind of sitting here like wtf, ,, what is this and how did it come out of me lol. a little nervous to post, but i trust you guys to make responsible decisions about the media you consume!!! i'll probably never write something this fucked up again but for whatever reason it was just flowing out of me tonight folks, please again i'm begging you go read the warnings, like a second time through wouldn't hurt lol, and i hope you enjoy!!

Bringing its bitter end to his lips, Robert used one hand to draw in a deep breath of his dwindling cigarette, the other lazily holding a black magic wand in its designated place. He was nearly an hour into the day's filming session, and his subject was reaching a level of exhaustion and misery that made her more annoying to play with than anything else. But knowing he needed to milk at least a little more footage out of her before putting her back under and calling it a day, the man kept at the task. He tried to remind himself that he should be enjoying himself; considering the kinds of commissions he generally had to choose from, this particular case was a treat. A pretty little virgin, as soft and pure as the early spring rain, with the most stunning body the criminal had ever had the privilege of defiling. He could spend another thirty minutes at his station, watching as all the life and dignity were drained out of his poor little victim like blood dripping to the cold tile floor.

Through the musty cloth rammed between her battered lips, the poor girl's cries were escalating as her tormentor swirled the curve of the wand's slick bulb over her burning clit. Robert knew what her worsening wails meant; with a callous grin, he pulled his cig from his mouth just in time to press its smoking end to the girl's inner thigh as she came. With the howl she let out, he was thankful for the buffer the gag provided. "Noisy little bitch," he laughed as her juices sprayed out against his gloved hands. "That's it, slut. Fucking take it."

Glancing at the camcorder sitting off to his side, Robert considered his options. As much satisfaction as he derived from seeing how many orgasms could be wrung out of the poor thing before her body knocked her out as an act of mercy, his sadistic tendencies were getting bored of the monotony. Tossing the used cigarette to the floor, the man slowed the wand to a stop. He rolled away slightly on his stool, tossing the condom that was wrapped over the toy's head into the large black trash bag sitting in the center of the large room's floor. This far into his career, Robert had his methods down to a science. There was a way to keep everything clean, everything untraceable.

It was the whole purpose of his "worksite"; it provided a secure, controlled environment for the entire job to take place in, from start to flatline finish. The "set" was by far his favorite portion of the space, and understandably so, as it's where his sick imagination got to run wild for hours, days on end. And his clients were just as enthusiastic about the vivid stage he had put together for their subjects to shine on. It was somewhat inspired by a vintage gynecology office. He had the classic off-white exam table, equipped with a daunting pair of metal stirrups that were always positioned just a little wider than what would be comfortable. A sturdy set of restraints were of course a must, and to make sure the camera picked up on every agonizing detail, he had installed an adjustable surgical light overhead that could be aimed and drawn in to illuminate any area or action he chose. He hadn't struggled to gather all the tools and instruments he could ever want, either. A few of his buyers were licensed professionals themselves, opening the door to acquiring inventory from the big-name brands in bulk.

The other corners of the room had their designated uses as well: one with a filthy mattress for the unconscious victims to waste away on as heavy drugs pumped through their systems, another with large plastic sheets covering the floor, walls, and ceiling where the poor souls were hosed down (inside and out) before a bullet to the temple inevitably ended their long days of suffering. But most of their waking hours were spent on that dreaded padded table, the very spot where Robert's most recent capture was using the few moments he spent away from his station desperately trying to regain control of her breathing.

He returned to his position swiftly after switching out his soiled pair of black gloves for fresh ones, not wanting to waste any of his or his client's time. The sight of the girl's abused sex was enough to make the man drool; it had been quite some time since he had seen such a marvelous-looking cunt, so glorious in its messy destruction. Knowing he should share the beautiful sight, he took the time to adjust the camera, zooming in from a full-body shot to focus solely on the spot between the victim's legs. With the humiliating inspection he was preparing to perform, he wanted to be sure his buyer got to see each drop of come the poor girl let out, every twitch and spasm he would pull from her helpless body.

"Now let's see here," the man breathed as he brought his gloved fingers up to gently spread out the ruined-looking pussy before him. Noticing the way his subject winced as her puffy folds were pried open, he couldn't help but laugh in dark delight. He drew his attention to her throbbing clit, noting how much it had grown in size from all those unwanted orgasms he had forced out of her. Its hood was completely retracted, leaving the poor bud exposed to the open air. In a moment of perverted curiosity, Robert pinched the hardened nub harshly between his fingers, earning the prettiest sob he had heard from the girl all day. He chuckled once more, rolling and pulling at the knot of flesh for a few more seconds of additional torture before finally moving his hands away.

"What do you think? Should we try for one more?" he mused mockingly as he grabbed a plastic speculum from one of the drawers built in beneath the table, unwrapping it and tossing its trash to the side before pausing to grin deviously over his victim. Glancing up at her head, he realized it was still covered with a black hood he had put on her at the beginning of the shoot. The buyer had requested for her to be blindfolded like this for a decent portion of the film, offering the explanation that she was "afraid of the dark," and that he wanted to see her in as much pain and fear as humanly possible. The hood had served its purpose for the day, but now, Robert wanted the poor girl to see each and every way he was going to be violating her body in real time. In one swift motion, he reached up and pulled the pocket of fabric away, exposing her stunning tear-stained face. "Hi sweetheart," he greeted viciously. Just as he was hoping, her cries worsened as she saw the dreaded tool in his hands. He had a certain liking for holding up the devices he was preparing to use to see his victim's reactions; after all, he got off on fear and dread just as much as his clients did.

"Time to open up this pretty little cunt and see what kind of damage we did," the man enthused as he forced the tip of the instrument into the girl's drenched opening. By now, she had been well stretched out and ruined by her captor's horrific methods. Grappling with his usual lack of restraint and self-control, Robert had barely made the drive back with the girl tied up in his trunk without pulling over and popping that perfect little cherry on his own time, without a single camera properly rolling.

Turning the speculum as it was fully inserted, the man took great pleasure in squeezing the handle to force the tool open, each tiny click that sounded only stretching the poor thing's aching walls out to a further, more painful degree. "There," he sighed in satisfaction as the last notch was reached. Pulling his hands away, he gave himself and the camera a few seconds to enjoy the view of the girl's milky insides, so worn and sore from the days of torture she'd endured.

"Alright. One more," he finally hummed, using his gloved fingers to collect some of the plentiful slick dripping from the speculum before dragging them up to find that adorable little button he loved bullying so much. Her fading sobs were revived in an instant, her throat growing hoarse from all the screaming she'd done. But as much as she cried, Robert was determined to get one final orgasm from her before putting her back under for the day. After spending so much time making that pretty pussy as puffy and sensitive as possible, he deserved to see it coming all stretched out painfully over his instrument of choice.

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years

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Angel Of Death, Chapter 18

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, violence, mentions of murder, knife violence, blood, character death.

Charles woke up in the middle of the night, having had a nightmare about Robert. The only thing that terrified him more than the nightmare was the insane feeling that he wanted to run to his mother and Ransom; hurry straight to his bedroom, so that Ransom could scare the monster away. He hated to admit it, but Ransom had grown on him in the short time that he’d known him.

The little boy sat in silence as his wits came back to him, his need for the sneaky man dissipating as his thoughts pulsed through his head. He looked around the large room and sighed to himself. It felt too quiet. There was too much space. And it wasn’t home. He found himself sad to admit that Ransom’s estate felt more and more like home every day, so being away from it now, felt weird.

So, with a sigh he got out of bed and padded down the hall to the bedroom his mother was supposed to be staying in. But instead of his mother’s soft breathing, he heard crying. He was about to push the door open and go into the room until he heard a robotic voice.

“You say one fucking word after I ungag you and I’m walking right into the room down the hall and slitting his throat, son of mine or not, Nicola,” the voice warned, “You’ve stunted the only attachment I have to him, so I don’t mind starting over if you start acting up. Is that understood?”

Charles froze, knowing that his father had to be on the other side of the door.

You were right in pulling the two of you away from Ransom. The little boy’s mind raced as he thought about Ransom. He wondered if Ransom would already be dead if the two of you stayed. Charles backed away from the door slowly, and once he was sure he was a safe distance away, he ran to the kitchen, knowing that was where you had dropped your purse as soon as the two of you arrived and Ransom had shown you around.

Your phone was in your purse.

Ransom had been a nervous wreck ever since he left the penthouse, he lent to you and Charles. He’d been sitting in his office, finding his bed far too uncomfortable without you sleeping soundly in it, and he’d been looking over every single piece of information about Robert Pronge he could find.

Frank was at a desk not too far away in the corner, looking over more information, as Mary having fallen asleep on the couch hours ago, seemed to be upset even in her slumber at the sudden loss of her quick friend.

Ransom had found out a lot of information about Robert Pronge.

The most important was that he was more dangerous than Ransom had initially thought.

He was the Paretti’s information liaison when he was with them, but he specialized in interrogations and torture. Nicola’s father was a man who liked to keep his circles tight when he was in power, and he trusted Bobby with everything. Information, security, enforcement…and even keeping Nicola in line.

Robert Pronge seemed to have things made in the Paretti crime family. He was the son that Nicola’s father never had, and it appeared that one day he’d be the one to inherit the family business. And things seemed to be going well on the outside, until Nicola was sent to Italy and he was fired without any real words or harm coming to him.

No, Robert Pronge was a rare bird in the Paretti family. Too dangerous to live, too rare to die. He had information on Paretti that saved his ass, but not his job. And ever since he’d been taking security jobs and some murder for hires just to keep himself limber.

Ransom jumped when his phone rang.

In the corner of his eyes, he noticed that Frank had done the same.

And when he saw that it was Nicola’s burner, his eyes went wide and he gripped the phone, answering it, “baby…what is i-“

“R-R-Ransom…”

Ransom’s heart dropped. It wasn’t Nicola. It was Charles. The little self-assured child sounded scared. He could hear the crying.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, jumping out of his chair, “where’s your mother? Are you at the penthouse?”

“I-I ran out of the penthouse…” the little boy admitted, “I left mommy there with him…he’s hurting her…and I ran! I can’t help her. He-help me! I’m scared, Ransom. I ran out and I’m in the stairs…”

Ransom gestured to Frank, “Call the Wakandans now! Call all of my allies. Pronge has her in the penthouse. Charles is in the stairwell.”

“I-I have to go back for mommy!” the little boy hiccupped.

“Charles, I need you to listen to me. I don’t want to scare you, but I need you to know this,” Ransom said in firm tone, “Your father is a bad man. If you go and try to help your mom…he’ll kill you buddy…I need you to keep coming down the stairs…you hear me? I need you to run as fast as you can away from him until you get outside. When you leave, press the code 423 on the door okay? That’s my code and I get the notification to my phone. It’ll let me know your safe. Repeat it back to me. What’s the code?”

“4-2-3.”

“Right!” Ransom encouraged, “you’re doing good, buddy…and then I need you to run across the street and hide in the bushes. Turn the phone on silent just to be safe. I’ll call you when I’m there, okay? And we’ll save mommy.”

“Together?”

“Yes, Charles,” he said quickly, “We’ll save her together…now I need you to do what I said, okay? Your mom would want you to be safe. So we need to do that for her, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The penthouse was quiet. Almost too quiet as Ransom walked in after having Curtis pick the locks. He felt his breath becoming shaky the closer he got to the bedroom. Ransom had managed to convince Charles to stay downstairs once he’d arrived, and he was feeling like that was the right choice the further he got into the penthouse.

His heart dropped to the ground when he pushed the door open only to see a beaten and bloody Nicola, completely naked and tied to the bed frame. You were completely on display towards the door and Ransom could see the spend leaking from your abused hole.

He felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest as he looked at the woman he’d quickly fallen in love with. You were a far cry from the woman he’d met just a few weeks ago. You looked more like a woman from the battered woman’s shelter, and less like a dark temptress who would steal his soul if you spent a night in bed with him.

And that was when Ransom’s attention went to the man who was sleeping soundly beside you, as though it was entirely too normal a situation.

Robert Pronge.

His eyes were closed, and he looked almost peaceful as he had his arms wrapped around you. Ransom felt sick to his stomach at the sight.

“Drop the weapons or she dies.”

Ransom froze and Robert’s eyes snapped open. A knife suddenly appearing at Nicola’s neck. She groggily opened her eyes, the bruises not giving her much room as the text to voice feature was utilized on the cell phone.

“Nicola.”

“I was wondering how long it would take for my bastard to wake up and go running to you,” the robotic tone said in a monotone voice, “I was making my little slut scream so good. So loud. Wasn’t I princess? It was like we were back in the good old days…back when we conceived him. Hell, I’m pretty sure I put another one in you tonight…don’t you think?”

You only shrugged, but it wasn’t good enough for Bobby. He slapped the groggy woman into full consciousness, and you began to cry. The tears mixed into your cuts, the saltiness of it making your cheeks burn.

“S-sorry,” you whimpered, not sure on who you were even saying you were sorry to, “so-so loud.”

“Good girl!” the voice replied. But Bobby only tightened his grip on you, pressing the knife firmly into your throat. Your eyes went wide as you looked to Ransom, unable to move or even fight off your aggressor as he used you as a bargaining chip, “But as I was saying, Drysdale. Put the weapons down. Or I slit my little slut’s throat…”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Nicola…” Ransom said softly as he stared at you. More tears fell down your cheeks as you felt like he was lying.

You knew it.

This as the end of the road.

Yes, Robert wanted to restart a family with you, and obviously he was psychotic and had wanted to renew whatever relationship the two of you had started all of those years ago, but this was a dead end. And there was no way out. If there was one thing you knew about Robert, it was that if he didn’t get what he wanted, no one did.

That included taking you out.

“R-Ransom,” you stuttered, “I-I’m not okay. It’s not going to be okay…”

“I’ll let you go!” Ransom bartered, looking at Robert, “You let Nicola go, and I’ll let you walk out of here alive. Just take the knife away from her throat and untie her.”

“I’m not making it out, Ransom,” you cried. You whimpered when you felt the knife digging into your throat, “T-take care of Charles.”

“He’s got no way out, Nicola,” Ransom said firmly, looking at Robert, “the only way you make it out alive, Pronge is if you let Nicola go! You hurt her…you’re fucking dead.”

Bobby smirked, and you closed your eyes, knowing that with those words, Ransom had sealed the final nail in your coffin. You felt the pressure of the knife on your throat, and then a searing hot pain for a single moment before it disappeared.

A loud bang.

Voices sounding all too far off.

You struggled against your bonds only for a moment before you felt weightless.

Ransom’s face was in front of yours.

And suddenly you could reach for your throat.

You couldn’t breathe. It felt like you were being pushed under water and you were drowning. Ransom looked scared as his gaze went over your neck.

Red became the prominent color of your world.

A deep, scarlet that seemed to be filling your focus.

You were bleeding out in Ransom’s bed, but all you could focus on was his eyes. Not the worry in them, or the sheer terror.

Only how clear those blue eyes were.

And as white noise filled your head, you closed your eyes thinking of his own beautiful blues.

Chapter 19, The End

Tag List: @lohnes16, @lala415

#angel of death #mob au #mafia au #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #knives out au #knives out #robert pronge #the iceman #iceman #mr freezy

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slothspaghettiwrites · 3 years

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What would happen if the prison found out about Robert and Justin’s relationship and the warden tried to separate them? New cell mates, different rec and lunch times? Robert would be pissed

I think for the most part, the warden doesn't give a shit. He doesn't fuck around with inmates usually because why would he? The guards haven't really had an issues with Robert starting fights since Justin arrived so they are mostly left alone.

It's only when the warden is sure that Robert is smuggling in contraband(which he is let's be honest) that he steps in and decides to fuck with Robert. Justin gets moved to a whole different block just out of the blue. He tries to put up a fight, but they handcuff him and drag him into a cell on the other side of the prison. The whole damn prison knows who Justin is, they don't fuck with this kid, they pretend they don't even see him. He is a ghost in his new cell block.

The first time they see each other is a week later, Justin's doing calisthenics; push-up, sit-ups, lunges. He's working up a sweat in hopes it helps calms his anxiety down release some of the fear he is constantly leaving in.

"Fuck me, princess, should had you puttin' on a show months ago."

Robert is ten feet away with two fences between them. Justin's quick to jump up and rush to his side of the fence. He hates that his breath hitches at the sight of Robert, hates that his heart aches, but he's so relieved to even get a glimpse of his daddy. He can see the anger simmering under the relaxed way he leans against the chain link.

"Daddy, I didn't do anything, I swear."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Warden tries to squeeze ya know what to do right baby?" Justin nods, of course he knows what to do. "This will get all sorted out soon."

"Do you need anything?" Justin blushes as he asks, he know what anything could mean.

"Nah, not right now. You keep working out. Wanna see how strong you can get, princess. Can't wait to fuck your tight little cunt again. Bet'll be just like that first time all over again."

#sloth asks #nonnie #justin capshaw x robert pronge #the train to hell just got a whole lot hotter #prison au #what is going on with me today?#is this soft!robert pronge hour?

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stuckysdumbbitch · 3 years

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the unpaid price

Summary: You and Justin owe big money, so going with the sketchy guy doesn’t seem like a bad idea, right?

Pairings: Sexworker! Justin Capshaw X sexworker! reader X dark! Robert Pronge

Warnings: 18 + content, noncon, sexwork, smut, gay sex, rough sex, spanking, degradation, misogyny kink, anal sex, humping, implied kidnapping, slight blood, minor violence (being knocked out), implied poverty.

Well sheesh

You could feel the cold biting into your skin as you clutched Justin’s hand tightly. It had been almost an hour, and no car seemed interested in the both of you. He shivered, clad in short denim shorts and a white crop top; an outfit that was not suitable for a cold autumn night and seemed to fail it’s purpose, gain customer.

You saw his lower lip beginning to pout, staring at the dark street filled to the brim with other coworkers; they at least had a man paying for them.

“Do you think we will make something tonight?” Justin suddenly asked you, and you blanked. He squinted at you, trying to see you clearly in the shitty lighting; he needed new glasses. “I haven’t eaten a full meal in two days.”

“Of course,” you answered briefly, clutching your purse tightly as you pulled Justin into a tight hug.

A loud honking interrupted the moment, and an expensive car popped right in front of you. The black Audi flashed at you and Justin, and you quickly obeyed the man’s gesture to come near.

“Hey there,” He sang when you perched yourself on your the window, Justin shyly behind you. “You two come in a pack?”

He was tall and broad, hair long and wavy. His squared glasses sat on the bridge of his nose as he leaned forward to viciously ran his eyes through your body.

“Yes sir,” you mumbled, hands tracing the soft curves of your black silky dress. He observed Justin too, before grinning widely.

“C’mon, you can ride shotgun doll.”

So you got into his car; It was nicer than the ones you had been before. You fiddled with the hem of your dress as he begun driving, jolting when he placed his big hand on top of your thigh.

“So does the pretty boy just sucks, or does that ass also work?”

You were too entranced on how big his hands looked on your thigh, you didn’t answer. Justin was quick to shift, arms covering his tummy.

“Whatever you like sir,” He responded, voice slightly grumpy as he watched the man’s hand tracing higher and higher up your leg. He hated whenever men touched you; that’s why he always offered himself first, so he was way fucked out to see you get fucked.

You heard the man snicker, finger dangerously closing to your core.

His fingertips grazed the lace of your thong, pulling in aside to feel inside.

“For a whore, you aren’t that much wet.” He commented crudely, trying to find your clit while his eyes scanned the road. Yet he didn’t seem mad, he was intrigued.

“Don’t call her a whore,” Justin bellowed, furrowing his brows. The man chuckled at his attitude, and you wanted to scold him for treating the client like that. The man turned into the thick dark forest of the night, he went deep enough to a clearing with a lake, where the moonlight reflected against the waters. You shivered at how empty the place looked.

“My name is Robert,” He begun, untying his seatbelt and parking the car. “But tonight, the twink will call me sir and you will call me Daddy, got it?”

You nodded, looking at him with interest. There was something off with him. You couldn’t give it much though, because he was tugging you into his lap in the blink of an eye. His hand roamed down your thighs, feeling the soft skin carefully as you felt the growing bulge on his pants.

“Hop in the front sit, slut.” He called Justin, and the brunet obeyed quickly, eager to take care closely of what the man would do to you.

“I think we should discuss safe words…” you stuttered, Pronge’s hands bunching the dress over your waist.

“Oh, you know how to talk?”He taunted, pushing you roughly against the steering wheel so your ass was raised in the air. He did a quick work of pulling down your panties, spreading your lips apart to take a good look inside.“Not for long, gonna fuck you dumb.”

A sharp slap fell against your cheek and you hissed, embracing the wheel for comfort. You heard a zipper go down, and a wide head pressing against the skin he just slapped.

He pushed your legs apart and forced you to sit back down where you though he was going to spear you in, but instead the length was between your folds. The veiny shaft rosed against your clit and you almost moaned.

“C’mon slut, rub yourself all over my cock.” He whispered in your ear, holding his dick against himself so you could feel more friction. You bucked your hips against him, feeling how your clit rubbed perfectly against his veins. You didn’t even budge when he tore open the top part of your dress, boobs spilling out freely so he could wrap a calloused hand around it. You knew how to put on a show, get good money. Your hands traveled to grasp the side of his head, knitting into his hair, while your lips parted to let out an almost pornographic moan.

Just before you were about to came, he pulled you over his cock to sink in perfectly. You moaned, in pain from the stretch but also in great pleasure. His dick pressed against that sweet spot inside you. They were never this good, just sloppy man who kept rubbing your labia in hopes something happened. He groaned deeply, pulling your hair to arch your back as he thrusted deeply into you sloppy core. The car was filled with both of your moans, and Justin was almost left forgotten until-

“Undress yourself bitch, gonna fuck that little peach next.” Pronge bellowed, fucking your fast and furious. Justin obeyed, tearing his clothes off until he was only in his bright white briefs. If you weren’t being fucked so hardly, you could almost notice the tears prickling his eyes with humiliation.

A strong hand moved your jaw so you could face Justin through your clouded vision. Robert held you down by your waist, frantically spearing up into you.

“Wanna kiss the pretty girl, fucking bitch?”

The only answer was a gasp as he knitted his hands through Justin’s soft curls, clashing your lips together. You quickly kissed him sloppily, trying to comply your best. Spit drooled from your lips, and Justin licked it greedily. In your dream induced state, your walls fluttered around Robert’s cock, soaking it with your plentiful squirt.

“Squeezing me so tight, little girl.” He groaned into your ear, pulling you close to his massive frame. “gonna break you, pretty girl.”

He grunted, rapidly turning his body around so your face planted onto the headrest. You grasped the cool metal when he landed another slap on your flesh, the rough denim rubbing with the area. Justin observed worriedly how you winced in pain, lower lip pouting as he so desperately wanted to help you.

Robert hold your hips, pushing you closer until you felt his hip crushing into your ass and his zipper chafing the skin around your entrance. His hot load shoot inside your tender walls, painting them white.

“C’mon dumb bitch, get your ass here.” The man growled, pushing you carelessly into the backseat. Justin obeyed, placing himself in your place as Robert reclined the seat.

You bend down, panting and tired, to peck a quick kiss in Justin’s soft lips. it was reassurance, to tell him everything was going to be okay, but Robert quirked up at the gesture.

“Need kisses to stop crying? fucking little bitch,” He taunted, pulling the briefs harshly across his plump cheeks. His ass was pale and bubbly, slightly bruised from a client that wanted to spank him.

“I’ve got lube,” you panted moving to grab your bag, but Robert pushed you back. You frowned, getting slightly annoyed.

“No why, we got enough here.” He gave you a smirk, lips thinning to show his sharp white teeth. His hand reached down to pull your thighs apart, and you winced at the introduction of two fingers in your sore entrance. “Look at that, perfectly wet.”

He smeared the mixture of his cum and your slick on Justin’s tight muscle; the younger man was shaking as Robert pushed two digits into his mouth. He almost gagged at the thickness, spitting into the fingers.

“I think you should use lube-“ you tried to say, a quick backhand with his hand covered in spit shutting you up.

You gasped, holding the stinging surface. The signet had clearly left a mark.

“That’s it,” Justin groaned, trying to reach over his clothes. “We are leaving.”

A loud hysterical laugh filled the room, and you and Justin faced each other, fear and confusion coating your features.

“You little bitches aren’t going anywhere,” Robert explained, hand traveling down to grab something under the seat. Your eyes went as wide as saucers when you saw it; shiny and black. A gun. “You aren’t so brave right now, huh?”

Justin was shivering. Your puppy was scared, but you were too. There was no use in comforting him when you were shaking like a leaf.

“You gonna fuck yourself on my cock, or I’ll blow your brains out.”Robert whispered in Justin’s ear, hot breath fanning over his face.

“No.”He cried through sobs. A true moment of stupidity. Robert was slightly shocked, but chuckled nonetheless. He delivered a quick spank to his pink muscle, making the boy whimper.

“I’m gonna fuck a tight ass tonight, where is you or your little whore I don’t care.” He growled, but Justin laid still. “You gonna fuck yourself on my cock or I’m gonna fucking kill this slut with my dick down her throat.”

Justin’s eyes widened through his glasses, and he nodded quickly, even wiggling his ass back against the shaft that laid between his cheeks. Robert grinned at you triumphantly, pressing his blunt head into his tight hole. Stretching his snug walls with his well endowed cock, the older man couldn’t keep his gaze off your shivering figure, the small whines of Justin being completely ignored.

He watched how tears fell down your eyes, that were based on the boy’s pained expression. Your dress was tattered, blood and slickness oozing out of you, staining the leather seats. Your body glistened with sweat, and your makeup had been ruined.

When he least noticed, he was thrusting into Justin, hermetically wrapped around him. So he stopped, pushing the gun through his curly hair to signal him to move.

“Tell me how much you love it,”he ordered darkly, voice filled with lust and raspy.

And he did; he clenched tightly and moved his plump ass against his hips, Robert peppering slaps on his pristine white skin.

“F-feels go-oo-od,”he lied through gritted teeth. And although it was fake, the man grinned. “Feels good sir. N-Nice and full.”

With all the crying, Robert felt himself come undone quickly. He held onto Justin’s hips, pulling him close and deep before spilling himself inside with a groan.

He must have seen how you relaxed when he finished, so he slammed the grip of the gun against your puppy’s head. His eyes went droopy before he fell head-first into the seat, glasses sliding off his nose. You heaved, more tears springing from your eyes like a faucet turned to its full capacity.

“Please,” you begged, voice hoarse. “please don’t do this, just let us leave- we won’t say anything!”

He pushed Justin’s unconscious body into the passenger seat, and begun crawling towards you. Pressing yourself against the door, you felt him hovering over you. His body heat was suffocating, almost unbearable as he spoke with a scent of whiskey and cigarettes lacing his tongue.

“Why would I let you two go? two pretty little whores.” he taunted, cupping your face in his dirty hands. “you gonna be the perfect momma for this little brat, gonna make you a respectable woman.”.

#justin capshaw x reader #robert pronge x reader #robert pronge #justin capshaw smut #justin capshaw #mr freezy fanfiction #mr freezy x y/n #mr freezy smut #dark!fic #fanfiction

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needleandhammer · 3 years

Text

Prism

Pairing: Robert Pronge x Reader; featuring Jake Jensen

Warnings: 18+ only, dark fic, non-con touch, kidnapping, it's Freezy so yeah

Notes: Happy spooky season! I cannot believe the writers I am following have led me onto the Freezy Train 😳

For a year, you worked alongside Jake. He came through your office suite to set up new computers one morning. Designated the unofficial tech responder, you reached out to him often, asked questions politely and endlessly until he resigned himself to visiting your office multiple times per week. Somehow, the two of you ended up having lunch together as he listened to you grumble about coworkers adverse to seeking technological solutions on their own. Then going to happy hour together. Then texting each other; Jake followed your lead until the two of you could speak in memes and emojis.

Your friend abruptly left his job a few months ago. With no response to your text messages, you swallowed down the disappointment of losing touch with a friend when adulting kept your circle so small already. You only hoped he was okay.

Now, after a late night at the office, your coworker Carter lies unconscious in your peripheral. The person responsible for knocking out Carter stalks toward you. You’re scrambling around your desk trying to keep distance between him and you, this stranger with scraggly hair hanging over a pair of thick spectacles.

You’re so startled, mind trying to salvage some kind of escape plan that you haven’t even tried yelling for help. You hurl a solid glass paperweight at him. Air rushes up your throat – a scream working its way out when you see him dodge and strike forward at you. His hands circle your wrist, you’re yanked against him and a painful blow to the base of your neck sends you sinking into blackness.

---

You wake with a start. Where are you?

Your hands roam, grasping lightly across your body in search of any new injuries while you breathe past the lingering pain at the back of your head. At least it wasn’t bleeding. Assured that you were able to stand and move with relative ease, you’re on your feet and tiptoeing to the door of the bedroom. Your shoes are gone, dammit.

You swallow hard, breathing deep against grogginess and the aching pulse at the base of your skull. That fucker isn’t here so you need to act.

Go out that door.

Wait. You need something. A weapon. Anything.

A shaky breath forces your stark fear at bay as you look around the room. You make it to the open closet door.

A pink color halts you physically and mentally. Pink. You collapse to your knees and grasp at the cotton fabric. The word printed on the pink shirt triggers a breathless sob that you can’t control.

Petunias

Oh gods, did this deranged man kidnap Jake too? What can he possibly want with you and your friend? Is Jake in some kind of trouble? Questions bombard your mind, tangling into nothing that makes sense. Your head aches. Your limbs feel weak. Has it been long enough that your body has weakened from lack of nourishment?

Beneath another shirt, you discover a scraggly object. It’s chestnut colored, wavy strands that sends a creeping shivering down your spine. You quickly drop the Petunias t-shirt over it, as if to hide some vile creature from sight, and peer around the room again.

Damn it. No light décor or metal objects you can arm yourself with. You’ll have to be quick.

The door gives a creak when you swing it open, revealing a small galley kitchen.

Your heart skips – dread douses you – you freeze when you see the figure standing opposite you at the far end of this small building. He turns, arms falling from the curtained window, to look at you.

You reel backward; your hands reach and claw for something, anything that might help you in this horrible circumstance.

Right back where you started. You made it barely a foot out of your prison.

Your captor descends upon you. You shriek, push and shove against him but his weight follows you, presses you down on the bed.

His palm stifles your cries while he easily restrains you.

“Awake are we?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to hear his voice. You close your eyes. You don’t want to look at him – afraid that your eyes are deceiving you.

He tsks. “Don’t be a brat. We can make this part quick.”

Growling, you shake his hand away and snap at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? Let me go.”

He scoffs at the additional impolite names you call him.

Panting, you glare at him. “What do you want?”

“You gonna play nice?”

You try to headbutt him.

He sighs in irritation.

Your wrists are snuggly wrapped and tied to one bed post. You lean away from him as much as possible where you sit on a corner of the mattress, cutting him with a glare.

He still hasn’t answered you. That cold dread weighs down in your gut as you force another question out.

“What did you do to Jake?”

“Jake?” His smile grows.

“Don’t play with me! That’s his shirt. He – he has a family. His sister and niece, they’re…” Your words die on your lips as he starts laughing.

“Oh, sugar,” he says with a fond look your way. “Time to break the bad news to you. Your buddy Jake is…Well, you wanna take a guess?”

“You hurt him?”

The cold smile does not waver. You swallow down the lump in your throat. You already know the answer.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hanging,” he purrs at you, waiting for your next guess.

You’re not ready to accept it, despite the tangible evidence in front of you. Despite the bright t-shirt lying in the closet. Covering the brunette wig. It can’t be true.

This man’s face, his nose, his lips. You feel like you’re going mad as you keep being pulled back to those blue eyes. The glasses are gone; you can see his full brows, the aquamarine of his irises. That laugh that sounded wrong, even though the tenor flows through you in familiar waves.

His hair is now a natural deep brown. It's shorter, lacking the gel that previously held it up in blonde spikes. The wig must have just been a precaution for when he showed up at your office. And his facial hair is grown out more evenly and that alone could have transformed the man you thought you knew.

He disappeared months ago.

You study his eyes – you know their exact color – and recognize the mirth glinting beneath dark lashes. But your heart starts racing when his signature crooked smile doesn’t appear. Instead, a hard smirk twists his face into a stranger.

“Jake…” Maybe you hope invoking his name as you know it will make this all go away - will make the world make sense again. Maybe you want to cling to an impossible salvation.

He scoffs softly, a quiet murmur of your name on his lips, almost remorseful. Almost.

“The name’s Robert.”

Gone is the awkward, clumsy colleague you had grown close to. The man you formed a slow companionship with during late office hours sharing fast food while ranting about administration or complaining about the local asshole that stood at the corner of your block shouting right-wing rhetoric to people trying to get to work.

Gone is Jake Jensen, the cute nerd you called friend.

Robert Pronge closes in, looms before you. His fingers skim your jawline before he grips your face tight, deliberate.

“I couldn’t leave you behind,” he says, dipping even closer so his lips graze your cheek. You grow stiff at the gentle affection. His grip loosens enough that you can drop your gaze.

“I…d-don’t know you.” You don’t know this man. “I don’t.”

Robert watches as you press your forehead to your hands. He supposes it’s normal - you haven’t arrived at acceptance of reality yet. Your frame clenches with stress, the physiological response to danger. Robert has witnessed this countless times with countless hits.

A breathy chuckle tickles your skin. He knew you well enough at this point. “You’re a smart one, sugar.”

“No, no, no…”

“And you know now that ole Jake Jensen. Never existed.”

Faced with this man’s remorseless confession, you steel yourself for the inevitable.

“Are you – are you going to kill me?” You raise your eyes. You'll look at this man's face one last time, you won't be deceived in your final moments.

That dark chuckle returns.

“You think I risked showing up in town just for a quick kill?"

He cages you in, enclosing you between arms thick with muscle.

"No, sugar. Wouldn’t wanna waste a sweet thing like you.”

His mouth is on yours and for several seconds, the heated, hungry pressure stuns you. Confuses you. You squawk at the sensation of him probing for a deeper taste, and start twisting out of his hold.

Strong fingers tighten in your hair and make you whimper in pain, stilling enough for his tongue to delve into your mouth.

A quiet moan of satisfaction rumbles through Robert when he accesses the hot taste of you for the first time.

Robert decided long ago. Once his mask is peeled back – that blonde, chirpy mask – he’s taking you as his. And he’ll make sure you get to know the real him intimately.

------------------------------------------

A/N: Hurrah! I have been wanting to write a Jekyll and Hyde inspired fic for a while. Tis the season and all, so I present to you all: "Jensen and Pronge." muahahaha. I am trying to plan this out as a multipart fic. 😏 I'm gonna try to make this soft!dark bc that's the kind of shit I'm into.

#robert pronge x reader #dark!fic #non con #tw noncon

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smutsonian · 3 years

Note

okay but,, imagine if the reader had been a complete brat and gone out without letting Lee know. He waned her before about the dangers out there and that he wont always be there to save her. This gives him an idea. Lee decides to scare her by locking her up in a prison cell with Robert Pronge. Lee lets him do whatever he wants for the next few hours and even sits himself in a chair to get a better look..

ababahhaha aAhaha ahb WIAT LET ME BREATHE GOR A SECOND

lesson learned

lee bodecker x reader x robert pronge

warnings: dark, noncon, voyeurism, slight angst, posessive lee, creepy robert, not proofread!

word count: 1.4k

a/n: idfk how to do the keep reading thingy on mobile. Also I TRIED AND OMFG I JUST REALLY LIKE SOFT DARK CHARACTERS OKAY?!

masterlist

You asked Lee if you can go to the store later but when he told you that he’ll be doing extra shifts, you told him that you can go on your own. Lee didn’t like the idea of you going out on your own and he decided to give you a speech about the dangers of the outside world.

“Anyone can hurt you!”

“Anyone can just take you. In a blink, you’re gone. Taken away from me. Do you want that? Do you want someone to take you away from me?”

“No.”

“So don’t go out without me. Don’t go out by yourself, got it?” He was so angry and adamant but you really wanted to go out. You needed to go to that store.

So you decide to ignore Lee and go to the fucking story anyway.

Of course, Lee finds out. He’s the sheriff and everyone basically works for him. So it’s not a surprise that someone tattled on you.

He drove straight to the shop, guiding you back in his cruiser, almost as if you’re being arrested but he let you sit on the passenger’s side. He was quiet throughout the ride which was scary because he’s usually mouthy when he’s mad but when he’s quiet…

He’s really really mad.

Your anxiety only got worse when he missed the turn to your house and straight to the station.

He stopped the car before quickly getting out, walking towards your side, and helping you out. Even mad, he still guides you.

You follow him inside, frowning when he grabs your arm before pushing you inside a cell with a strange man. You ignored the man, watching Lee as he closed the gates before getting a chair and placing it just in front of your cell.

“Such a pretty little face…” the strange man says from behind you. Your skin prickles when you feel him getting closer to you and you glance at Lee with tearful and frightened eyes.

“L-Lee what’s ha-happening?” You watch Lee’s jaw clench and unclench before he adjusts himself on the chair.

“I told you not to go out on your own, didn’t I?” He asks, giving you a glare.

“You did.” You confirm.

“But you still went out.” He hisses.

“But I still went out…” You repeat, bowing your head in shame.

“I’m sorry, Lee… I just really wanted to buy—” You try to reach for the paper bag but then Lee grabs it through the gaps of the cell before tossing it aside.

“Doesn’t matter what you needed to buy, darling. You still disobeyed me. I’m not making rules for my own good here, sweetheart. I’m making them for you.” He shakes his head in disappointment, making your heart clench in regret.

“I’m sorry, Lee! I really am!” You cry, not aware of the hungry look that the strange man behind you is giving you.

“I won’t do it again. I promise!” Your hands clamped around the bars, reaching out to Lee. He grabs your hands before giving each a kiss and letting them go.

“Oh, you won’t do it again. I’m pretty sure of that…” He smiles before loosening his belt.

“I learned my lesson, Lee. I won’t do it again. Please let me out…” You whisper, eyes blurred with tears as you begged him. You could see conflict in his eyes as if he’s fighting with himself.

“Oh, you will learn your lesson, sweetheart. I know it’s hard to teach you some manners but this time, I’m pretty sure you’ll learn.” He nods at the man behind you before you feel yourself being dragged back to the stranger’s chest.

“That’s Robert. He’ll help you learn a simple lesson, sweetheart.” Lee smiles before leaning back against his chair.

“Nice to meet ya, pretty face!” The man behind you, Robert, cheers before tearing your clothes apart. You were too shocked to react and you only snapped out of it when you felt his rough hands palming your breasts.

“L-Lee!” Your voice cracks at Lee, desperate and scared.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s scary but you have to learn!” Lee frowns before nodding at Robert once more.

You feel a kiss on your cheek before his hot breath fans your ear.

“This’ll be quick, baby. Just gotta teach ya a lesson like your daddy told you…” You whimper when your hair is yanked backward and a stinging sensation fills your body when Robert forces his cock inside you.

Your screams seemed to turn Robert on because he only went faster and harder, ignoring your sobs and seemingly enjoying the scratches that your nails are giving his arms. He uses your breasts as a handle to keep your body against him while his hips continue to rut into you.

“Ow!” You cry out when you feel his teeth biting into your neck when a loud bang comes from the metal bars.

“Don’t fucking bite her, Pronge!” Lee’s voice was strained and you looked at him, seeing him stroking his cock while his eyes continued to glare at Robert.

“My bad…” Robert chuckles before wiping the skin that he bit and placing a kiss on it.

“Sorry, baby…” He continues to rut into you and you see Lee matching the rhythm that Robert is using to pound into you.

Robert easily manipulates your body so you’re on your knees and he forced your face down against the floor only to be yanked up so a pillow could be placed against your face.

“Gotta keep that pretty face comfortable…” Robert chuckles before patting your cheek and crawling behind you.

“Ready or not…” Robert sings before seething himself inside you with the same rhythm as before only this time, his cock enters deeper, hitting a spot that always made your legs shake.

“Slap her ass,” you hear Lee’s quiet voice and you look back at him who seems to be close with how his hips are jerking against his hand.

Robert smacks your left cheek hard, earning a loud yelp from you. He continued pounding you from behind, groaning and pleasure as your walls started to clench around his throbbing cock.

“You can cum, baby,” Lee’s voice reaches your ear. You didn’t want to cum on Robert’s cock but his hand finds its way to your cunt, fingers playing with your clit, eager to pull a release from you.

He didn’t have to wait long because soon, you were a crying mess while your whole body shakes on the floor as Robert continued to pound into you.

Just when he’s about to cum inside you, he’s pushed out of you by Lee who quickly shoved himself inside of you, thrusting a few times before cumming inside of you, releasing thick and warm coats of his seed.

“Ahh fuck!” Robert exclaims, finishing himself off on your ass.

“You fucking bitch…” Lee growls before wiping Robert’s cum off your ass with a white cloth.

Lee helps you up, wrapping his jacket around you before pulling you close. He tilts your head towards him, a finger on your chin before asking.

“You learned your lesson?”

You only nod at him, eyes tired as they fluttered shut. Lee presses a kiss on your forehead before guiding you up.

“That’s my girl.”

Robert stands up, patting his pants clean before smiling at the sheriff.

“Hey if you wanna help with teaching your girl some manners, you know where to find me,” Robert laughs at the glare that Lee gives him.

“In your fucking dreams”

“Fucking your girl is a dream,” Robert sighs dreamily, looking at your sleeping form against Lee.

“It’s a one time favor, Pronge. Now get the fuck out of here. Our deal is done.” Lee brings you back to his cruiser as Robert follows the both of you.

He stares at your form on the passenger‘s side while Lee closes your door.

“Call me when you need someone dead. I like your method of payment.” Robert snickers.

Lee didn’t like how Robert seems to be infatuated by his girl. Lee couldn’t blame him but you're his. You’re Lee’s and nobody else’s.

“Fuck off, Pronge.”

“Whatever.” Robert steals a glance at you one last time before leaving.

Lee enters the car before driving home. He looks at you before smiling. He knows you only love him. You’re good like that. You just have to be taught some lessons from time to time.

But he’s sure as fuck that he won’t be asking for Robert’s help anymore.

Lee looks at the bag that you were holding earlier and he feels his heart skips a beat when he sees what’s inside.

Candies

“Oh, my baby…” Lee smiles at your sleeping form before pressing a kiss on your nose. He wouldn’t have to worry about Robert.

part two-ish

————

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @empath-bunny @belovedcherry @white-wolf1940 @the-soulofdevil @mianorth @littlegasps

Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000 @bluemusickid @heyiamthatbitch @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @slytherinandoutasgard @chrisevanisliterallysir

Chris and seb: @harrysthiccthighss

#lee bodecker x reader #robert pronge x reader #lee bodecker reader x robert pronge #dark fic #lee bodecker oneshot #dark lee bodecker #dark robert pronge #dark lee bodecker x reader #dark robert pronge x reader #dark!fic

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years

Text

Psychotic Trio

Summary: Freezy and Cherry bring work home with them….

Pairings: Robert “Mr. Freezy” Pronge X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, implied kidnapping, weapons (gun), murder, a man tied up, unprotected sex, cream pie, implied sharing, nicknames (Pretty Girl/Baby Girl) 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.1k

You thought it was strange that Robert and Cherry were at the house today. What was even more strange was the fact that they were both in the basement. It was quiet. Too quiet. Remembering when you were trapped down there and no one could hear you scream. You pace around upstairs, attempting to ignore the door to the basement.

When you’re stuck at home it’s easy to get things that need to be done, completed. And your eyes keep looking at the door, until finally you’ve had enough. Slowly your hand turns the door knob, and you hear both of their hushed voices. Someone made sure the basement has been made soundproof.

Not wanting to startle them you quietly walk down the stairs. When you see the two of these menaces standing in front of a tied-up man, whispering amongst themselves while the gagged man mumbles and wriggles around with wild eyes at you. Both Robert and Cherry turn to look at you.

“Pretty Girl,” Robert begins but you stop him.

“I thought I told you two not to be bringing work home with you,” you continue walking down the steps, allowing Robert to give you a dirty kiss. The tied-up man looks between the three of you.

“She’s my fucking Pretty Girl,” he informs the tied-up man. “He calls her Baby Girl,” his head flicks towards Cherry. “You thought she would fucking help you, ya cunt.”

Elbowing Robert in the side a bit you look back up at him. “Please clean up your mess when you’re finished. And no more bringing work home. You understand?” with a nod from Robert you look over at Cherry who nods as well, giving you a quick kiss to your temple. “Supper will be ready shortly.”

Cherry laughs at the man continuing to talk with muffled words. He reaches over pulling down his gag, “You got something to say to our girl?”

“You’re all fucking psychotic.”

“The fuck did you just call her?” Robert rounds his eyes at him, and you place your hand calmly on his arm.

“Baby, he called us all that.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he called me and Cherry boy, but you? He won’t fucking talk to you like that. Why don’t you tell my Pretty Girl why you’re fucking here,” he looks at him wickedly. He refuses to answer, and you drop your hand from Robert. He harshly slaps him across the face. “I fucking told you to tell my Pretty Girl why you’re fucking here. Is your bitch ass scared?”

His brown eyes roll up to look at you. “You’re taking the law in your own hands. This isn’t how…” “Just fucking tell her. I’m tired of looking at you,” Cherry, clearly annoyed looks at a table full of different weapons, pondering which he is going to use.

“Kidnapping.”

“What did you just say?” you’re not sure you heard him right.

“That’s right, Pretty Girl. This douche bag fucking kidnapped a judge’s daughter. Held her for ransom. He didn’t get the money, but we got him. The girl is safe.”

Very rarely do you get overtly angry. “How old was she?” you look between the two men in your life, and neither want to answer you. “How old?”

“Seven,” Cherry reluctantly tells you. Your anger towards this monster flares up. You look between the two men, and you know why they do this. Pulling out the pistol on Robert’s side you shoot him in the head.

“Fucking bastard.”

Robert and Cherry are silent. Nothing is said for what feels like hours, but it is most likely a few minutes. “You okay, Pretty Girl?” Robert’s soft voice is present.

“Yeah. I get it. Why you do this I mean. The girl is okay?”

“She’s fine,” Cherry answers, turning to look at you.

“You sure, you’re, okay?” Robert’s eyes look over your body. You being so calm, and you laugh, nodding your head. “Cherry, clean this shit up.”

Robert grips tightly to your legs, hoisting you over his shoulder. “Baby, what are you doing?” you laugh.

“I didn’t realize how fucking hot that would be to see you join us.”

“What?” you laugh as he continues carrying you through the house, throwing you down on your bed.

“Now my perfect little slut, I’m going to fuck you dumb,” a glance down and you see his swollen pants. His movements as he adjusts your body are harsh and quick. Ripping and pulling off every bit of your clothes, feverishly you return the movements on him. Adrenaline kicking in. You rid the world of a disgusting man who would put a child in danger.

Robert’s large muscular body lowers more over you, settling more of his weight on top. Your hands hold him tight to you, and his lips kiss all along your body. Spending extra time on your ice cream cone scar. Leaving marks throughout your skin and you’re nearly breathless. “Babe-baby. Please I just want to feel you in me.”

“My perfect fucking cunt wants my cock buried deep in her, huh?” enthusiastically you nod your head. His hand snakes in between your bodies, “She’s crying for my cock, Pretty Girl.”

Using his hand to rub the tip through your folds, your hands grab his tight ass, pulling him closer to you, “Please. Just fuck me.”

Brutally he drives into you. Giving you no time to adjust to his girth, and you chirp at the feeling, thankful that his demanding self made you made her slicked up with your arousal. His thrusts are so hard the headboard beats into the wall, causing the picture frames to rattle. The moans and breath that fall out of your mouth are desperate, making his hips charge into your harder. “Fuck, Pretty Girl! She’s squeezing me so tight. You like me fucking into you this hard?”

“Uh huh,” your voice hardly even a whisper. Your eyes struggle to stay open.

“My little cockslut. She loves my cock; she keeps pulling me back in.”

He continues thrusting into you. Your head rolls to the side and you spot Cherry smiling in the doorway. “I knew he would fuck you after that.”

“That why you’re fucking in here? You needed to fuck my pretty pussy?” Cherry never answers. Your fingernails scratch down Robert’s back, bringing blood to the surface. As he keens at the feeling, the shameless noise, and feeling on him makes you cum, pulling him down to meet your lips. A few more deep thrusts into your pussy, you feel hot ropes of his cum feel you up.

“Don’t leave me,” you whine. Not wanting him to leave from inside you.

“Does my fucking slut want me to stay in her until I go soft?” nodding your head he smiles down at you. “You going to let Cherry have a go while I finish up?”

Looking over at your sweet Cherry Pop, he offers you a sweet smile, “What d’ya say Baby Girl?”

“You don’t wanna watch?”

“I can’t say no to that Pretty Girl.”

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

#mr freezy pops #mr freezy pops au #dark!fic #dark!mr freezy #soft!dark!mr freezy #soft!dark!mr freezy x reader #dark!mr freezy x reader #destroyer!chris #destroyer!chris x reader #the iceman #destroyer #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans character #chris evans character x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan character x reader

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georgiapeach305132 · 3 years

Text

Psychotic Trio

Summary: Freezy and Cherry bring work home with them....

Pairings: Robert “Mr. Freezy” Pronge X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

“Pretty Girl,” Robert begins but you stop him.

“I thought I told you two not to be bringing work home with you,” you continue walking down the steps, allowing Robert to give you a dirty kiss. The tied-up man looks between the three of you.

“She’s my fucking Pretty Girl,” he informs the tied-up man. “He calls her Baby Girl,” his head flicks towards Cherry. “You thought she would fucking help you, ya cunt.”

Cherry laughs at the man continuing to talk with muffled words. He reaches over pulling down his gag, “You got something to say to our girl?”

“You’re all fucking psychotic.”

“The fuck did you just call her?” Robert rounds his eyes at him, and you place your hand calmly on his arm.

“Baby, he called us all that.”

His brown eyes roll up to look at you. “You’re taking the law in your own hands. This isn’t how...” “Just fucking tell her. I’m tired of looking at you,” Cherry, clearly annoyed looks at a table full of different weapons, pondering which he is going to use.

“Kidnapping.”

“What did you just say?” you’re not sure you heard him right.

“That’s right, Pretty Girl. This douche bag fucking kidnapped a judge's daughter. Held her for ransom. He didn’t get the money, but we got him. The girl is safe.”