#reader's in a dark place

[morvantmortuary]

12, 56, or 67 for the ask prompts - whichever of these you find most inspired by for our Maxi 🖤

12: "I'll love you til my breathing stops"

56: "I am not myself anymore, I'm yours"

67: "You're so perfect, why do you want me?"

hi bee! :’D sorry I’m an idiot! 🖤

I’ll be honest, this one is definitely more… personal than I intended. I started writing it when I was really Going Through It w/r/t some depression stuff, a minor existential crisis where I wondered if it was worth staying in my program, dealing with the fact that my closest friends were also going through it and nothing I said seemed to help, just a whole slew of stuff that left me feeling rock bottom.

another part of it, I think, is that I have this weird thing where even though these were yandere prompts, I just… had this thing where I couldn’t just write the Reader hearing them? like, I thought for even someone like Maxi, who worships the ground his reader walks on, to out and say some of these things, I had to like - justify them somehow. Like I couldn’t hear them unless I was emotionally bleeding out, almost. maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, or something else I need to go to therapy about idk

and then once I got so far in, I was like “rae wtf this is such a fucking bummer, no one is gonna want to read this,” and so for a while I thought about starting over again just for something more fun

but, eventually, I reread this piece again, and decided that even if it’s kind of a sad start, maybe someone else could use something for the worst kind of days. I meant to post this on Yule, bc “longest night of the year” and all, but we all know how I am with doing anything remotely on time :’D

so, if anyone else is maybe having a hard time on this xmas eve, I hope maybe this is a small something to help

warnings for some really vicious self-talk on the part of the Reader, v v v brief discussion of su!cidal thoughts (like I said, I was going through it), descriptions of an anxiety attack, Maxi being a little too happy to murder anyone who hurt you, Maxi and his Reader swearing their deaths to each other, descriptions of necromancy, patricide, etc.

merry xmas, and rora and hector both have pieces coming too - this was just the one that got finished first 🖤 thanks for being kind enough to request, and I’m sorry again it took so long! I hope it’s okay 🖤

it hurts because you’re alive

(maxi morvant x gn!reader)

It wasn’t often you still had to contend with the voice from the darkest part of your brain. The one that had stalked you through the left-hand mirrors from the Masquerade, the one that some demonic presence - essence? Whatever - imitated in Maxi’s own mouth when it was trying to convince you to let yourself lay down and be prey. Since you’d been building yourself a pleasant life in Greymoon, one that you were more than happy to share with the man who’d stolen your heart, it had retreated back to whatever noxious neural fold it called home.

That didn’t mean there weren’t hard nights. Ones where it found you left vulnerable by an insomnia that refused to abate.

This was one of them.

You weren’t sure what had set it off, really: maybe it was the fact that Murphy’s Law had been in full effect at work, and nothing you tried had been enough to turn the day around. Maybe it was the phone call with your mom after, where more than one she’d suggested (albeit gently) that despite all the progress towards feeling like yourself again you’d made since moving here, there was still more you could be doing. Maybe it was the texts you’d swapped with Pavi that afternoon, where she rehashed the latest fight she’d had with a girlfriend she would’ve readily called awful if she’d been yours, Em’s, or Laurie’s. As carefully as you’d tried to point out that Pavi seemed to accept things for herself that she would’ve found intolerable for any of her friends, the two of you had just gone in circles, with Pavi insisting that she was probably just being biased in her recounting of the argument and you nearly pleading with her to consider how she’d feel if anyone else she loved was being treated the same way. When this proved fruitless, you’d eventually stopped and just let your friend vent until she felt better. It was the least you could do.

But long after you’d said goodnight, you were still sitting cross-legged on the end of your bed, lost in thought as you worried the skin on your lower lip with your teeth. After years of living with your specific brain curses, your usual self-soothing method was straightening up your house while listening to music as loud as you could stand it on your headphones; the idea being that bouncing between tasks with something drowning out the Voice would eventually convince it to give up and let you focus on anything else. But tonight, that had only left you more restless than usual. Your brief attempt to sleep had just ended in you plugging your string of fairy lights back in and returning to your playlist, trying to ward off your internal darkness with external stimuli.

How did you think you would be enough?

You trapped a piece of skin between your teeth, and bit down.

No, really. How did you possibly think anything you had to offer, to any of them, would be enough?

“It’s not about me,” you muttered aloud. “It was just a bad day. Shit happens. I’ll live, it’s fine.”

Your teeth, however, bit down once again on the spot. You could just taste the faintest trace of blood.

And now you’re talking to yourself. Just like old times.

Fuck off, you thought instead, but the Voice just seemed to crow in the fact that it’d made you change.

Oh, you little idiot. Just as spineless as you’ve always been. Your job knows that, you know - you weren’t smart enough or quick enough to improvise today. They all saw you fail. You let everyone down. Again.

This is unhelpful. You knew this was unhelpful. This was just wallowing. Everyone had bad days. This would pass. You would be fine.

…Right?

Your progress is not enough for your mother. She knows you can do more, do better. Be more. You can dress up laziness as contentment all you like, it’s still obvious to her. She must be so disappointed in what you turned out to be.

Your teeth kept sawing at the skin, and you winced at the sting of its separation from raw flesh, even as the taste of blood spread across your tongue.

Your love is not enough for your friend. It doesn’t matter how ferociously you care for her - it isn’t ever going to outweigh the hurt she’s willing to endure for even a taste of someone else’s. Someone real.

Stop, you begged yourself. You knew what came next.

How long until that ‘soulmate’ of yours sees all this and realizes his mistake?

You didn’t hear yourself whimper at this over the bass in your ears, the volume hurting now more than helping. You made no move to turn it down.

I’m curious. You suck at math, but make me laugh with an attempt: how long, exactly, do you think it will take for him to realize you weren’t worth the pain he went through? That he’s scarred, now, for nothing that could actually matter?

Your teeth picked a new spot and bit, but the tears were already there.

How long do you think you have until he resents you for your weaknesses? For everything you couldn’t be?

How long until even a creature of the utmost darkness finds you, and your broken little brain and heart, intolerable?

No, you pushed back. He’s not that. He isn’t, even with what he did. Does. He could never be. He’s good, his heart is good, despite everything that tried to force him to be otherwise. 

Fine, the voice amended. Then how long until he gets restless because he’s stuck with a burden like you? Because you could never amount to more than everything you are that no one should ever have to deal with, much less love?

You blinked, feeling your breath begin to shake as something warm slid down your face. 

There we go, the voice purred. You aren’t completely stupid after all. Gold star for effort.

You tried to force yourself to pick up your hands and wipe your face. Try to stem the flow of tears that turned your eyeliner into so much grime under your eyes, something else that added to the pathetic ineptness of your mien.

But they sat, listless and useless, on your thighs that took up too much room.

You can still exit gracefully, you know. …Well. As gracefully as possible for you. You owe everyone that much.

This was a lie. You knew, on some level, this was a lie. But it felt like the conscious You was locked at the back of your brain, kicking uselessly as this creature that seemed to slither and circle around the rest of your skull - and squeeze.

Your boyfriend’s a mortician, for crying out loud. He’ll at least make you look decent so you’re not a total embarrassment to anyone. Your mom won’t even have to clean up the mess when they find it.

…You had to admit. This made a certain, pragmatic amount of sense. It was tidy. Convenient.

Easier, perhaps, than the mortifying alternative of staying. Of letting anyone look too close.

He might even think one of your friends at the service is cute. Two birds, one stone. Provided any show up, of course.

That’s fair, you figured, this would be fairly short notice. People might still have to work, or have other plans, and you couldn’t expect people to drop everything for—

You let out a small shriek as you felt a chilled hand settle on your shoulder, nearly falling off your bed as you pushed hard away from the direction of your door.

When you just caught yourself on the edge of your mattress, you whipped around to see Maxi standing there, flattening himself as best he could against the doorframe and showing you his palms with an equally startled expression.

He mouthed something at you, and you could only blink, still not quite firing on all cylinders. He pointed to his own ear, looking concerned, and you jumped, quickly pulling your earbuds out.

“Sorry,” you managed. “Didn’t hear you come in.” You winced as you could hear your own voice crack, and before you could clear your throat, Maxi’s face changed.

“Hey now.” In one fluid motion, he crossed the space between you and fell to a knee where you perched at the end of your bed, peering up into your face with a familiar, scalpel-sharp scrutiny. “You okay, gorgeous?”

You looked away, trying to avoid his searching gaze, but he caught your jaw gently, guiding you by his fingertips at your chin to look at him again.

He made a small noise of alarm in his throat when you faced him, and when you finally met his eyes, he looked stricken. “Darlin’, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he murmured. His fingers traced over the tracks of your tears, wiping them away. He turned his hand slightly to examine his own fingertips, looking increasingly worried, before he moved closer to your knees to look up into your eyes. “Did someone upset you?” 

For the most part, he still sounded like your partner - sweet, thoughtful, a habitual worrier - but you could hear the edge of something else creeping into his question. Something darker, lurking at the back of his own skull.

But how could you explain? If you told him what was going on - what was really happening - wouldn’t that just prove your inner darkness right? That you were a burden, demanding of care?

You kicked yourself internally, feeling guiltier now. Maxi already had to deal with a lot at his job, people grieving real losses. Why should he have to come home to even more crying from you, who was just wallowing in their own despair?

“Hey,” he urged again, softer, snapping you back to reality. He reached up, gently intertwining his fingers with yours where your hands still sat on your lap. “Angel, c’mon. You’re scarin’ me a little here. Tell me what’s goin’ on, okay? Let me help. Do I need to have words with someone?” He traced his thumbs across the back of your hands, trying to soothe you - but you fixated on the way he subconsciously rolled his shoulder, the one you had marked on that dark Halloween in the cemetery.

For some reason, it was that gesture - so innocuous, yet obvious in how you seemed to inflict yourself on him, on everyone - that finally broke the dam between your sinking heart and the world outside. The spiral had you fully in its grasp, and there was no getting out.

Your eyes blurred over as you looked resolutely down, feeling tears escaping their bounds faster than you could hold them back. A few of them made splattered constellations on the skin of your legs, just adjacent to where Maxi’s hands where intertwined with yours. You bit down on your lip, trying to muffle the sob that had been building for what felt like the entire evening, but the smallest of sounds still managed to wriggle its way out around your teeth.

Maxi let go of your hands abruptly, and you couldn’t blame him for his withdrawal - until the cold clutch of them encircled your face, guiding your head gently upwards to meet his eyes.

What you found waiting for you was the color of blood from deep in the body, seeming to burn of their own accord in the dim of your room. He was practically nose to nose with you, staring at you over the tops of his glasses with a look like a knife’s edge. “Give me a name,” he said, so soft it was barely more than a whisper. His fingers stroked your skin, but his grip was firm. “And they won’t see sunrise. I promise.” He leaned forward to close the distance between you, kissing gently at one of the tracks of your tears - but you still felt the brief, hot touch of the tip of his tongue to the spot. “Let me take care of it for you, please.”

You sniffled, trying to rescue some shred of composure. “It’s n-nobody. Really.”

“Oh, angel,” Maxi cooed, pulling just slightly back. He traced a new trail down your cheek with his thumb, hovering close to you. “You don’t have to defend anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Whatever it was, whatever they said to cause - this,” his hand flipped to stroke your skin with a knuckle. “It’s justified for me.” He kissed your forehead before meeting your eyes again. 

You shook your head as the last of your composure slipped through your grip. “It’s not even a-anybody’s fault,” you managed around the lump in your throat. “I s-swear, it’s just…” You swallowed hard, but the ache just caused you to stop. “It’s just my fucking broken-ass brain.”

“…It’s what now?” You could practically hear the record scratch in Maxi’s brain as the murder dropped out of his expression entirely, leaving him blinking as the glimmering red seemed to cool like the last embers of a campfire.

You hurriedly wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “It’s nothing, I told you,” you mumbled. “I’m just fucking sad again over some stupid shit that doesn’t m-matter, like always,” you tried to inhale, but your breath shook too hard for you to get any relief. “And I c-can’t change it—“

Your heart was thundering in your ears, washing out all other sound. You were drowning. 

“B-because I’m not g-good at making anything better, for anyone—“

Your skin was too hot. You felt seasick. This was really it, wasn’t it. The moment that you finally tipped your hand and showed how much of a wreck you really were inside, and he would make the only logical decision. One you could never blame him for, really, because it was inevitable.

It fell out of your mouth in a rush, insensate almost to your own ears: “And I’m just going to be like this forever, and you’re going to get sick of me and leave, and why shouldn’t you, when I can’t even keep my shit together and just be a n-normal fucking functional—“

You were aware of the words dying on your lips, the sudden movement causing the ache to leave your lungs in an exhale, but you weren’t sure of the cause.

You also weren’t quite sure why the room shifted, or why you were suddenly staring up at your ceiling rather than down at your feet, but you were conscious of being cocooned in the essence of your partner: the faintest hint of embalming fluid, something like wood polish, the cologne he put on this morning, and the touch of laundry detergent that had started to smell like home to you.

You realized he’d taken you both to your mattress in a near-tackle, cradling you before you could realize what was happening. You were caged in his arms now, laying sideways next to him with your hands pressed against his chest between the pair of you. The pressure you felt around your torso was him squeezing like he was trying to keep you from coming apart at your ribs. 

Like you were something fragile.

It took you a moment to realize further that his lips were against your hair, and the hiss you heard was him shushing the tiny, cracking sobs that were finding their way piecemeal out of your chest.

“No, baby, I’m always gonna be yours,” Maxi murmured into your hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re my life, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He kissed your head like he was trying to kiss your skull itself. “Mine’s broke too. It’s okay.”

You half-sobbed, half-hiccuped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t— you shouldn’t have to—“

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Maxi insisted, somehow managing to hug you tighter without bruising your sides. “You’re mine. I won’t ever go somewhere without you.”

“But I’m a mess,” you blurted wetly against his vest, your chest kicking like a horse from the inside. “I’m such a mess, Maxi, I’m gonna wear you out. I wear everyone out, you don’t understand.”

Maxi shifted so instead of keeping you against his chest, he was eye-level with you, squeezing your shoulders in his hands as his glasses were somewhat crooked against your pillow. “Darlin’, I know everything feels wrong right now, and your brain’s not fightin’ fair,” he said softly, his eyes wide as he searched yours. “But I think your sense of scale is a little bit… skewed, here.” He smiled weakly. “I’m not tryin’ to make light of anything, but I think I have a little more reason to be worried about somethin’ like that.”

Your heart was racing in your chest like you were trying to drive with no way to steer. “I don’t wanna make you tired of me,” you managed, not entirely sure if you were making sense anymore. “I don’t want to make your mark hurt anymore, I don’t want you to come home from a long day to me being a drain, I don’t want you to realize you got a bad deal.”

“Angel,” Maxi soothed, running a hand over your hair. “You’re not thinkin’ straight. That’s not somethin’ I would think about you, ever. You’re talkin’ to the serial killer here, remember?” he added, with a laugh that sounded more nervous than anything. “You’re the one who got more than you signed up for.”

“You had to go through that whole thing with your dad, and They Who Decide,” you went on, as if he’d proved your point. “You wouldn’t have had to if I wasn’t here. You wouldn’t have had to get hurt, or get possessed, or—“

“For you, I’d do it all again tomorrow,” Maxi said, his voice soft. “In a heartbeat. I don’t care.”

You shook your head, not sure how you couldn’t make him see what was right in front of his eyes. “I’m not worth that, Maxi, that’s what I’m trying to tell you now rather than you waste more time.”

“And I’m tryin’ to tell you,” Maxi argued, his eyes plaintive. “That I don’t care what that demon in your head says, baby. I got one too,” he insisted, loosening an arm so he could gesture at his temple. “The real one and the one that comes from growin’ up thinkin’ I’m dead already, and nothin’ would ever change that. You have no idea how many times a day I wish to god,” he smiled, and it was strained. “I wish I could go back, somehow, and tell me when I was livin’ through the worst parts — every dark basement, every broken body, every night feelin’ absolutely fuckin’ inhuman — that we were gonna find you. That all this bullshit was gonna turn out to be worth it. All the years of feelin’ like I couldn’t tell anyone the truth, and we survived.”

Your shoulders bucked slightly as you fought your sobs. “I don’t want to let you down. I’m so scared of disappointing you, you don’t understand—“

Maxi took your face in his hands again, his gaze pleading. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, and you could hear him fighting to keep his voice steady. “You don’t have to be the one that’s afraid of that. You could never disappoint me in a way that matters. I’d swear it to you on our future tomb. I need you to listen to me, baby, I will love you ’til my breathin’ stops and long, long after. There’s nothin’ you could do, no part of you that you hate that would ever make me think otherwise. You could put a bullet through the dead center of my chest, and not only would I think you were in the right, I’d still love you when I hit the ground.”

The idea of causing him harm of any sort squeezed your throat harder than the lump that was already there. “I don’t know how you can say that,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I keep waiting for you to realize that I’m not enough to justify that kind of pain. I’m so scared of hurting you. Of being the reason you get hurt.” Your hands found his shoulders and your fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. “You’ve already been through so much, you don’t deserve to suffer when you can avoid it. I couldn’t stand myself if I brought that on you, on top of all my shit you already have to put up with.”

The red returned to Maxi’s eyes, and oddly, you were more soothed than alarmed. You almost wanted his darker self there as a form of assurance, to know that it could protect the man you loved from the fathomless chasm that felt like it was splitting your chest.

“Listen to me,” he demanded, that shadow from his eyes creeping into his words. “I never… I never got to belong to myself, you understand? I was always my family’s next chess piece on the board, or They Who’s next prize monster, or the reaper’s host. I knew that. I spent my life knowin’ that, and I didn’t see another option.”

You recognized the way his fingers of his left hand moved against your back, his tell for weighing his options. The way his eyes went briefly distant, you realized he was making a decision.

His free hand moved to his chest, tracing the scar there through the fabric of his clothes. “…This wasn’t…” He trailed off, his lips a frustrated line as he chose his words. His eyes met yours again, the red still there, brighter now. “…This wasn’t just my dad,” he said at last. “I mean, he put the first one there. The original.” He hesitated a moment longer, the tip of his tongue briefly tracing his lip. “…When I thought my family’s legacy was all I had — all I’d ever have — I reopened it.”

You flinched in horror at the very idea, knowing just how deep that scar tissue went, how thick it was over the muscle. “Oh, Maxi… why, baby?”

A corner of his mouth twitched into a grimace “There’s all sorts of things you can do with a heart when you know how, babydoll. Unnatural things that no one can undo… that no good person would ever dream of.” His eyes moved to a point in the distance over your shoulder, something in them dimming. “And for a long time, I studied it. I read everythin’ I could find about it. It was all I could dream about anymore.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “I was ready to give up blood, skin, and bone for just the chance that it would work.”

Your tears were sticky on your face where they were drying, and you fought a shiver from somewhere deep in your gut, like it recognized something in Maxi’s words you didn’t. “…So what happened?” You couldn’t help but whisper, despite the fact that it was just the two of you in your room. 

Like you were afraid something else would hear you.

An exceptionally grim smile bloomed on Maxi’s face. “Not my proudest moment, is what.” He looked away from you again, as if he couldn’t bear to hold your gaze. “Or maybe it was, I don’t know. It was the night I buried my mother. I wasn’t sober by any means, but my father was dead drunk. He interrupted me, we got to arguin’, then screamin’, and before I quite realized what I’d done… he was just dead.”

Silence settled over the pair of you as he met your eyes again, watching you like he was waiting for you to recoil from him. To suddenly realize in that moment what kind of monster had been sharing your bed for all this time.

“…Yeah, well,” you murmured. You reached up, gently brushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes as you held his gaze. “Good riddance.”

Maxi’s smile softened into the one you knew best, his eyes relieved despite the shade lingering in them. “I didn’t realize just how lucky I was that night. Not by half.” He reached up, moving some of your hair on your pillow away from your face. “Because later, after so long of never belongin’ to myself, you let me be yours. And you gave me back what was left of me, you hear?” He swallowed hard, and you could finally see the glow that had swept in with the familiar red gleam was at least partially tears of his own. He traced the line of your cheek. “You reminded me I was still a person, somewhere under all of this. That I was allowed to want more than just grittin’ my teeth and gettin’ through what brief mortal life I was meant to have.” He shifted on his pillow again, closing the distance between the two of you. “I spent ages askin’ myself, ‘they’re the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever had, the hell do they want with me?’ And—“ He stopped, forcing himself to take a breath that wasn’t quite steady anymore. “And you took such… care of me,” he went on. “You loved me so much, I started to believe I could just… be human, after all this time. Could deserve to be loved, even.” 

He moved his hands so his arms encircled your waist again, hugging you tightly while giving him enough space to keep eye contact. “You have no idea how many times in my life I went out in the dark and didn’t care if I saw daylight,” he said softly. “But that night we walked into the Masquerade together, I knew I’d fight Hell itself just to stay alive with you for one more hour. I’d never been more certain of anything in my entire life.”

The heat that seemed to fill your own eyes, lingering at your lash line, was from something entirely different now.

“Your brain chemistry can run its miserable little mouth all it wants, darlin’.” Maxi rested his forehead gently against yours. “And I’ll be here to hold you until it quiets down, whenever you need me to. But it’s dead wrong. I know that for a fact.” One of his hands, still cool to the touch, cupped your cheek like you were something wondrous. “There is nothin’ about my life you haven’t made better just by bein’ in it. And we’re gonna live a longer one still. A happy one, despite everythin’, together,” he took one of your hands in his, bringing it gently to his lips. “I love you exactly as you are. I always will.”

Fresh rivulets formed on your face, but these felt… different. Like rain after a drought.

You wound your arms around his neck, trapping his chest — scar and all — against your own. “I love you the same,” you whispered. “Exactly as you are. All of you.” You pressed a single kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And there’s nothing that can ever change that.”

Maxi’s grin was unmistakable. “Y’know, it’s the damnedest thing,” he said quietly. “For the first time, I’m lookin’ forward to livin’ through whatever’s next.”

You smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “I’m glad I get to be here for it.”

Maxi leaned forward to kiss you properly, long and slow as though to make it last the rest of your lives.

#nice people #bee!! 🖤🥰 #maxi morvant #maximilian vincent morvant #morvant mortuary #maxi morvant x reader #maxi morvant x you #maxi and his reader #maxi's final them #slasher oc #necromancer oc #slasher oc x reader #gn!reader #genderqueer reader #non-binary reader #plus size reader #reader's in a dark place #not quite hurt/comfort but close

[lilacevans]

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧': 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ dark!ari levinson x female!reader (non-descriptive)

✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 375.

✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: breeding, dirty talk, usual filthy ari

✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: anonymous

✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: wakey wakey besties, new drabble just dropped!!!!! hiiiii!!!! how ya been!! i've missed u all sm so i return with a little ari drabble <33 all of this was written on my phone so pls mind the mistakes and lemme know what u think!!!<3

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here. *this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

“You fuckin’ feel me, pup? Hmm? Feel me deep in this little cunt?” Ari rambled heatedly into your ear as his hips battered against the meat of your ass. Your frame bent underneath him, your breath moistened the sheet below you; pitiful moans and pleading whines were the only thing to fall past your spit slicked lips as your head swirled with everything Ari. 

“S’matter? Can’t speak? Can’t think?” Ari teased before lifting a little to snake an arm around your neck, bicep hugging your throat while he continued to fervently fuck into you. You couldn’t help but meet his thrusts, arching your back to drive your hips together harder, deeper. “That’s it, ‘atta girl, fuck yourself back on my cock. Keep it goin’, baby. Gonna fill you to the brim, breed this tight pussy.” 

A cock-drunk smile cracked across your lips hearing Ari’s lustful rants. One thing about Ari is that it was guaranteed that he’d lose all ability to keep his filthy thoughts to himself once inside you. 

“Whining like a bitch in heat. You want it? You want me to breed you, hmm? Knock you up with a little pup, mmm? Send you to Curtis’ next for a fill, then your golden boy— your Stevie,” Ari spat his name like it was venom on his tongue as he drove his cock deeper into your aching cunt. “Then your Jakey… Although he prefers this little hole, doesn’t he?”

Ari’s thumb pressed against the tight ring, the pad of his thumb slick with his spit, or the leaking wetness spilling from around his cock.

“Finish you off with Pete and that awful, mean Lloyd, hmm? Make sure you have a whole litter. Nothin’ but a hole for us to fill— Fuck,” Ari cut off, strangled and twisted as you felt his hips stutter, your head dropping to the pillow below as he filled you and used his softening cock to fuck his cum deep inside you. 

#chris evans #ari levinson #dark!chris evans #dark!ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levison x reader #chris evans characters #dark chris evans fic #dark au #dark verse #pete's place #ari: pete's place #cevans #lila writes #lila's drabbles #pete's place: the drabbles

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sweet Home

idk how the multiverse works so im just fucking up the worldbuilding but basically my hc is that whenever a dimension suffers trauma (too many ppl leaving dimensions, rift in time etcetc), it will create a shield around itself, preventing anyone from entering or leaving as it works to self-correct. 

(Yandere, dark, kidnapping, captive, delusional behavior, gn reader, implied deaths, talks of bombs)

Yandere!Miguel O'hara x reader

Honestly, you weren’t much of a threat. 

It was a rather misfortunate case of wrong place wrong time. One second, you were in your home, mulling about. The next, you were across dimensions. 

At least, that’s how it was explained to you. You had no idea there could be more than one spiderman, and now you were surrounding by millions. Maybe even billions. Here they all were. Heroes, all working together to save the multiverse, returning innocent people, like you, back to where they came from. 

But, according to Miguel, you were a special case. 

“It’s not too hot, this time?” He asks, his face in the same scowl as always. Before, you assumed he hated you. Now, you realize the man had a hard time showcasing emotion. 

It’s still there, though. You can see the concern in his eyes as they soften ever so slightly, as if he was remembering the scalding hot tea that burned your tongue. 

You tasted it, smiling at its perfection. When you mentioned you preferred something sweet, you had almost choked on the lump of sugar at the end of the cup Miguel prepared. After that, he was much more lenient with sugar. 

Ever since, you were put into his custody, he made it very clear your comfort would be his top priority. You never considered a superhero agency to be comforting, but the room he lent you was spacious and had a warm fluffy bed, food was always delicious, the guilt-filled gifts were always nice. It was clear the man spared no expense. 

“It’s perfect,” you say, “thank you.” 

He gives a smile. Though, it’s strained, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it correctly. He finally gives up, staring down at your techband. It wasn’t as sophisticated as his, you understood why you couldn’t have one, you were just grateful it stopped you from glitching. 

“So...is there anything new?” You ask, careful to broach the subject. 

You couldn’t go back home, not yet. It had taken a while for you to calm down when you were first brought here. You had been terrified, fearing for your life surrounded by these strangers who all strangely resembled spiderman. It was Miguel that had talked you down. He wasn’t patronizing, didn’t coddle you, but he wasn’t unkind. 

He explained things carefully. When you had been ripped from your dimension, something had gone wrong. The dimension had closed in, as if it were a living creature defending itself, an armadillo creating a thick shell. No one could go in or out. 

So, here you stayed at the spiderman’s headquarters, temporarily dimensionless. 

You peered into Miguel’s face. He was tired. He always looked tired. You wondered if he was getting enough sleep. Guiltily, you knew you were partially a reason for that. 

“Nothing.” He sighed. “We still can’t communicate to your spiderman, nor can we break into the gates. So far, no progress.” 

You had a feeling that’d be the case. You gave a strained smile, feeling more and more hopeless. 

“Hey.” His hand was warm on your shoulder. “I’ll find a way to get you back home, I promise. Don’t give up on me just yet.” 

He was close, leaning in just so your faces were inches apart. Miguel was just being kind, you knew that. But his height and stature had always intimidated you. A part of you was sure he knew that. It was why he would always hover over your, like it was some way to subconsciously keep you in check. 

It was an absurd thought. As always, you shook it off. 

“And besides, if we can’t, you’re always free to stay here.” He gave a lazy wave to the spacious room filled with gadgets you couldn’t even begin to describe. 

 It was a joke. You knew that. Miguel was adamant about ‘anomalies’ being returned to where they belonged. You were certain he would’ve thrown you back into your dimension if the situation were different. Yet, just the thought of staying here forever, never seeing your friends or family ever again tugged on your heart. 

You appreciated everything Miguel had done for you, he had gone above and beyond, but you were lonely. Due to protocol, only Miguel was able to see you. You understood it, but it didn’t mean you were not allowed to have human emotions. 

You longed for home. 

He must have seen it in your eyes because he pulled back some. The lines on his face hardened ever so slightly. He was angry. Not at you. Never at you. 

“You done with that?” He changed the subject, gesturing to your cup. 

Nodding, you return it to him gratefully. He stands up, grabbing the remnants of lunch and dirty dishes. 

“I’ll be back.” He tells you, and he’s assured you plenty of times that you weren’t, but it was hard not to feel like a prisoner as you watched him leave through a metal door. 

You waited for ten seconds, and then you rose from your own seat. 

There were only two rooms you had access to. Your own, and then Miguel’s office. 

Well, it wasn’t really an office. It was a large computer room, but Miguel always worked here, and you always kept him company, much preferring the companionship of at least one human rather than the solitude of your bedroom. 

Over time, he seemed to trust you a bit more. Or maybe he started underestimating you. Over time, he had accidentally given you most of the passwords to this place, not really paying attention as you not-so-secretly spied on his work.

You felt a little guilty for snooping, but a part of you was frustrated. You’d been stuck here for weeks, with no concrete answer. Miguel always seemed to evade your questions. You wanted an explanation. Assurance. 

Strangely enough, you felt a little old as you clumsily operated a machine that was decades into the future. It was a humbling experience. You typed in your dimension number, a sequence you knew by heart. 

Huh. 

You weren’t sure what a closed dimension looked like, but it certainly wouldn’t look like this. It looked fine. Despite your minimal experience with looking at dimension maps, you could tell the gates were opened. You could even see tiny dots flitting in and out. People.

Everything looked fine. 

Then...why did Miguel say you couldn’t go home? 

“What are you doing?” 

You hadn’t even noticed he’d come back. He had been so silent. Like a spider. 

You whirl around to face him. For the first time, you realize you’d never actually seen him without his signature blue and red costume. His face was stony. His demeanor had changed, as if earlier he was actively trying to pretend around you. Before, he used to slouch slightly, his hands would drape awkwardly at his sides. Now, his back was straight, arms ready. 

You’d never thought Miguel as threatening before.

Still, you try your best to loosen the sudden tension in the room. You give a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t wobble like your heartbeat. 

“I think my dimension just opened up,” You mutter, halfheartedly pointing to the screen, “Does this mean I can go back home?” 

He steps forward. You inch backward as he makes his way over to the computers. All the screens shut off. You can barely see him in the dim light. 

He works he jaw, like he wants to tell you something but can’t. 

Despite your heart going a mile a minute, you don’t want to be scared of Miguel. The only friend you had here. You bite your lip, gaining all the courage you could. 

“Did you lie to me?” It was a stupid question. Of course Miguel would say no. He wouldn’t do this to you. He couldn’t. 

His eyes slice into you. Crimson. 

“Yes,” he says simply, “I did.” 

You weren’t expecting that. You couldn’t have. Your mind was whirling, desperately trying to piece together an explanation. 

The tears burned in your eyes. You forced yourself to keep them at bay. 

“Why?” It was barely a whisper, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. 

He rakes his hand through his hair. It was something he did when he was stressed. You’d once jokingly told him that if he kept doing that he’d go bald. 

You had joked with this man. 

“I was going to put you back,” He said, almost like he was pleading to you. As if you were his judge, his executioner, and not his helpless prisoner. 

“That was the plan. I was going to put you back but...” He sucks in a breath. He gives a laugh with no real mirth. 

“But then I realized how much safer you’d be here.” 

You didn’t understand. You take another step back. He follows. 

“Your dimension opened back up two weeks ago.” You’d been stuck here for three. “Communication has resumed like normal. I lied about that.” 

It felt like a sick prank. Like he would suddenly start laughing, telling you how gullible you were. 

But it feels even worse when he doesn’t do that. He just stares, almost like he feels sorry for you. 

You don’t want his pity. 

“You haven’t met your dimension’s spiderman, have you?” He suddenly asks. “He’s a good kid. But that’s all he is. Just a kid. Thinks everything comes easy. His fate is worse than most.” 

“His recklessness causes a bomb to detonate. 126 people die.” His gaze is stiff on your figure. 

“Including you.” 

You freeze, staring at him, unable to move. The word of your death still lingered in the air. 

“I told myself I’d send you back,” he continues staring into the dark screens, “But you were so sweet and you made me feel so-” He cuts himself off with a huff. 

“I always have to make the right decision. Every time.” He finally says, looking back at you. 

“Just for once, I wanted to be selfish.” 

“Miguel-” 

“I won’t.” He interrupts. “I’ll keep you here. I’ll keep you safe. I always keep things that belong to me safe.” 

You don’t like how he phrased that. You don’t like anything about this. This didn’t sound like your Miguel. 

Or did you even know him? Was the weeks of kindness all an act? A ploy to keep you satisfied?

Look how wonderfully that worked? You walked right into his trap like a stupid butterfly, struggling in the sticky webs. 

“You said it yourself,” you whisper, “I’m an anomaly. I can’t-I can’t stay in a dimension that isn’t mine. I could cause rifts-or-or even worse disasters.”

You try to throw his words back at him, hoping it’d knock some sense into him. He just gives a hum at your attempts. 

“Not if you stay here,” he replies, “Not if I keep you contained. Keep you here.” 

You shake your head, stepping back. This felt like a nightmare. The tears were falling in full force, down your quivering chin as you stare at him. 

“You-you can’t do that,” You mutter, backing up against the wall as he makes his way towards you, “You can’t do that.”

He crowds you against him, hushing you as he bundles you up to his chest, stroking your hair. He’s so warm. His scent of woodland mountains is so strong. He suffocates you. You hadn’t realized it until just now. 

“I know you don’t understand.” Miguel replies, sounding so genuine. It makes you sick. “But you will. One day. One day you’ll thank me for saving you.” 

Saving you. This wasn’t saving you. This was keeping you. This was killing you. 

“I want to go home.” Your voice breaks, cracks under the weight of his confession. “Miguel please. I-I need to go home.” 

For the first time, he smiles. A sincere smile. 

A condescending smile. Like you’ve said something adorably naïve. 

“Mi amor.” He purrs, affectionately kissing your cheek. 

“You are home.” 

#yandere #delusion #dark content #atsv x reader #gn reader #miguel ohara #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #spiderverse #non con touching #kidnapping #yandere miguel o'hara #oh no miguel im so sorry your wife and kid died #bummer #anyway theres this cute thai place down the road

[deceitfuldevout]

Savior (Part 1)

Dark!Emmett x Reader

Word count: +2,394

Warning(s) in chapter: +18, Non con, Breeding, Forced Breeding, Minor character deaths, Kidnapping, Mentions of past character death, Murder.

Author's Note(s): I'm still riding the Cillian high.

It was summertime in Akron, NY. Life was simple, peaceful, was. You were excited to be starting as an elementary school teacher. Until they arrived, death Angels, they were called. Slaughtering anyone and anything in sight that made sound. There was only one thing you could do, and that was to survive.

It's been 474 days since the apocalypses began. Winter was approaching, so you and your group decided to venture out. You were careful with each step. Who knows when or where a creature would be lurking. They're quick and stealthy. Almost silent. A mistake your teammate makes resulted in your entire team's demise.

A sudden trip on a hidden string causes a wind chime to clatter down, purposely alerting the creatures. Before your team has a chance to escape, they were quickly dragged off by the creatures. One by one their screams were heard. You ran, as fast as you could. Until your legs almost gave out. You couldn't believe it. Everyone, everyone was gone. You were all alone, dealing with the aftermath of yet another loss.

The adrenaline still pumping though your veins as you took each step. You hadn't even realized the hidden beartrap until it was too late. It takes every ounce of your energy not to scream in pain. You force yourself to swallow it down, muffling a cry. Fat tears role down your cheeks. It takes you a while to compose yourself. After that the realization hits. You were trapped in the middle of nowhere. With only a backpack filled with medical supplies.

This was it, this time, you would surely die. A deep feeling of dread consumes all your senses as you wobble to a sitting position, the pain becoming excruciating. You really did try your best to stay alive. But when your vision begins to blur, you embrace the darkness, letting it consume you.

When you had woken up your body felt heavy. A throbbing pain pulses though your head. It was hard even trying to lift yourself from the bed. Wait, what? You swiftly lift yourself up, looking around to find out just where the hell you were. How the hell did you end up here?!

"You were out for a while," a voice calls. You turn around to find a man seated at a desk, just now finishing up his meal. He's dressed from head to toe. His outgrown beard covers most of his features. A trucker's hat covering the top of his head. It was hard to tell what he looked like in the dark, "Here," he hands you a bowl, it's canned soup. You hesitantly take it from him, "Thank you..." eating it with careful bites.

You notice him still staring but choose to ignore it. He was kind enough to save you back there. Surely he wasn't so bad. Emmett recognizes you the moment he found you lying unconscious at the front of his hideout. For a moment, he thought you were surely gone. Until he hears a faint whine escapes your lips. He doesn't know why he decided to drag you inside. Maybe he just needed a sign.

"Your friends they uh, they didn't make it," feeling sorry for what he'd just said. Your heart broke for them. One small mistake costed them their lives. A part of you carried survivor's guilt with you. Thankfully you weren't alone. He was at the right time and place. When you try kicking your legs out of bed a sharp pain hits one of them. A painful grunt escapes your lips.

You with certain now, your foot was broken, small jagged cuts decorate the heel and ankle. It seems as though he tried to help, "I did my best to stop the bleeding but...'m not a miracle worker," his voice is deep, raspy with age and time. It sounded too familiar. That's when it hits you, "Emmett?" There was no doubt, you were sure it was your old neighbor. Hell, you used to babysit his boys. Your brows furrow, now worried, "What happened to...?"

"Gone, I lost the boys to those things, and Nora, she couldn't take it..." his eyes start to glisten. His once lively spirit now the shell of a man he used to be. He's taken aback when you start to cry, "I'm so sorry Emmett..." you cried, "I loved them so much..." mourning the loss of his family. He knows very well, his boys were fond of you. Even asking if you could be their teacher for the next school year. You even applied to an open position for the upcoming fall. After all this time fate still had a way with bringing people together.

Emmett lets you rest up for a few days while out on a supply run. He even left a few supplies and food by your bedside. You wanted to know where you were, but with your leg being in the condition that it was, it was impossible. For now, it was best to rest while it heals. You didn't want to weigh him down.

In the meantime, you try different ways to stay busy. Each day completing at least two to three tasks around the room. Whether it was stretching, exercising, or attempting to walk again. Soon enough you were able to limp for a certain amount of time. Emmett was sweet enough to get you a crutch.

As time passed, you began to make yourself comfortable. Its been a while since you’ve arrived. To the point where the two of you had a daily routine. Emmett would be out, either hunting or gathering food and supplies. While you stayed to look over the compound. When Emmett would arrive after a long day of work, he'd come home find a homecooked meal waiting. It's been a while since he’s had a proper meal.

Emmett halts at the door, watching as you hum a tune while finishing up dinner. You sat on a wheeled office chair while getting the plates ready. He approaches you from behind, "Here, let me," carrying dinner to the table. The both of you ate in silence. But it wasn't awkward, you both enjoyed each other's company. You're the first one to speak up, "Hey so..." starting the conversation, "As soon as my leg heals, would it be alright if I come help?"

Emmett couldn't hide the look of disapproval on his face. He doesn't think you're ready, or even fit to go out there, "No,"

"No? Why? I can walk now and--" "No, final answer,"

"Are you serious?"

"As serious as I can be,"

"But it was only one time! They didn't get me--"

"It's not just the monsters you should be worried about..." he pauses, "...the people, they're not the same," as if it were coming from experience, "Look at your leg, you think a monster did that?" he scoffs. You were the last thing that reminding him of how kind life was before. He can't risk losing the little beacon of light left. Not again.

Emmett won't admit it, but it was lonely during the past few months. You made it all the more bearable. Something stirred inside of him. Just the thought of a pretty little thing waiting for him at home. He felt guilty. As if he didn't deserve a second chance. So, what does he do when confronted with a problem? He avoids it altogether. Emmett would spend hours going on raids just to avoid being in the house. Being alone with a pretty little thing like you would only lead to trouble.

It's been a while since he'd been with someone. During a supply run he'd found a few magazines to help, but it hadn't done the job. They weren't the same. Not even close. He can't even remember the last time he's emptied himself deep inside a pussy. His breathing becomes shallow from the thought of it.

"Emmett?" you tilt your head. Shit, what did you say? "I asked if you wanted more," scooting the bowl of stew towards him. He's flustered, "Sure thing," when he reaches for it his calloused hand brushes against yours. He's in awe by how soft it is. You were this ethereal being, who just so happened to stumble upon his hideout. He quickly retrieves his hand. Not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But did he really want that?

It was just the two of you all alone down here. He's much stronger than you. If he wanted, he could just take you, right here right now. And there would be no one to stop him. He imagines you on your knees, looking up at him with that innocent look. Shit...he has it, bad.

He can't decide if it was pure desire, or simply part of his nature to breed. You were already a natural playing the role of a homemaker. It's not like there was anything else to worry about. He would take care of you. He'll provide you with anything you need. All you had to do was give him a little something in return. Just once wouldn't hurt. As you ready yourself for bed, you notice Emmett still standing there. You turn towards him, curious of what he was doing. He pulls out a thin metal chain. What was that for?

"Please, don't fight it..." he nears. At that moment your heart sunk. Emmett held the metal in his hands, "You already know I'm stronger, so don't try to stop me," nearing the edge of the bed. You look at him with a look of dread, "Emmett?" eyeing the chain cautiously, "W-what are you doing?"

"Sh... just let it happen..." he nears, "I promise you I'll take good care of you, you'll never want anything else,"

"Emmett? No..." tears began to form. You couldn't run away from him, not with a limp. All you could do was scurry to the corner of the bed. Emmett links the chain to bottom of the metal bedframe. He held your good ankle in hand before linking it to the cuff. You're well aware he's much stronger, he even carried you all the way down here. He straddles your waist, and you scream profanities, lashing out at the man you once called a friend.

Emmett tries pleading with you to hear him out, he tries to muffle your screams with his hand. But instead, you retaliate by biting it. He grunts in pain, now retrieving it. He's not amused at all by your little rebellious stunt. This wasn't you. He doesn't have time for any temper tantrums. He's not angry, only determined, "Fine, have it your way," he's done having to fight for what's rightfully his.

He could've let you die out there, just like your teammates. It was your fault for trespassing, you were the ones who triggered his trap. Instead, he'd given you a new purpose in life. You'll never be exposed to the dangers of the outside world again. He'll make sure of it.

During the past few months, Emmett went absolutely feral. He couldn't keep his hands off you. Just this morning, you'd woken up to him buried deep inside you pussy, grunting like some sort of animal in a rut as he pounded that tight little cunt of yours. Still half asleep, you tried your best to ignore him. But when he raises your leg over his shoulder to deepen the thrusts, you couldn't hold it in. Small grunts escape your lips as you turn your head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

He leans in, "Hey...hey pretty girl, don't hide from me..." a hand cups the side of your cheek, turning you to face him. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, his hips still jutting in and out your channel. You were just starting to get used to his pace when suddenly he starts picking up speed. Your hands reach out to halt his movements, but he wrenches them off. Now pinning them to your sides as he chases his climax.

You feel the familiar sensation of his spunk now filling your womb. It's hot and sticky, some of it drips down and staining the sheets, "Fuck..." Emmett knew he should've laid out a towel. By now there was a small puddle of your juices mixed together. He would have to see if there were any blankets during his next run.

"Sh... just go back to sleep," he whispers. He couldn't help himself. He was tired and sore after spending most of the day scavenging for supplies. But as soon as he saw you sleeping soundly, in that sexy slip-on he’d gifted a while back, well, he just couldn't help himself. Is it not in his nature? There was no way you didn't know the power you had on him. He sighs, admiring your bow tuckered form.

It was a smart idea chaining you to the bed post. That reminds him, the purpose of today's trip. Emmett retrieves a salve from his bag. He starts rubbing it into the raw skin of your ankle before covering it with a gauze, "I'm sorry..."

"No, you're not…" you whisper to him. You're right, he's not. He kept both of your hands wrapped up in fabric bindings, so that you wouldn't hurt him or yourself. At first, he didn't mind the scratches, but when you almost claw his eyes out, that's when the idea had struck.

Emmett had warned you that the people weren't the same since then, including himself. He won't admit it, but as soon as he laid eyes on your unconscious form, the only thing he could think of was planting his seed deep inside you. He knew it was a good idea to save you, or was it you who saved him?

#dark!emmett #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place 2 emmett #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #emmett x reader #a quiet place emmett #a quiet place emmett x reader #emmett a quiet place #emmett a quiet place x reader #dark fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark smut

[mypoisonedvine]

Please can I request dark Emmett!! Like maybe he keeps you locked in his bunker to be his little "pet"

whyyy is kidnapping so sexy?!!?! and emmett is the perfect one for it ugh I made this more on the soft dark side I hope you don't mind!!

warnings: 18+ only!! dark smut!!, kidnapping and captivity, yandere emmett (kinda?), praise, possessiveness, pain kink, breeding kink, tummy bulge kink

"Don't give me any trouble, now," he warned sternly. "Doesn't have to hurt if you just listen."

You shivered as he ran his hand over your thigh, sighing to himself through his nose. "If... if I do what you say..." you began shakily, already hating that you were offering to obey him, "will you let me go after?"

He looked at you, those bright blue eyes making you shiver slightly, and gave you almost a pitying kind of frown. "I don't wanna lie to ya," he admitted quietly. "No. I'm not gonna let you go."

You whimpered, biting your shaking lip as he leaned in and held your cheek gently, kissing a small tear away. You fought the urge to shrink away, knowing after being held here for a few days already that he didn't respond well to his affections being rebuffed. He'd told you in the beginning that he wouldn't make you do anything, that he wouldn't hurt you-- but you could see even then that his patience was running thin. If you weren't giving him what he wanted, you were just another mouth to feed... and someone to keep his bed warm.

"Please," you started to cry harder, "please, don't keep me here--"

"I already told you," he interrupted sternly, "you're gonna be here, with me. I'll take care of you, and keep you safe, but... but you need to take care of me, too. I tried to be nice, but-- well, I can be mean if I need to. Neither of us wants that."

He lifted your chin, forcing you to blink your wet eyes up at him, and his gaze drifted to your lips-- you knew then that he wasn't going to wait anymore. He was going to take you now, and you were in no position to fight him. So, instead, all you could hope for was to get it over with.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, you kissed him suddenly, eyes shut tight.

His lips were soft, but his beard scratched your face a little; you whimpered when his tongue gently pushed into your mouth, making it harder for you to think about anything other that what this was and who you were kissing. His large, rough hand cradled the curve of your waist as he kissed you back, pulling your body close to his, and you (ironically) shivered at how warm he was.

He hummed as he guided you back to the bed-- it was small, way too small for you two to have been sharing it since he started keeping you here-- and laid you on it, breaking the kiss to look down at you tenderly.

"It's okay," he promised as you whimpered a little, feeling him spread your legs to slot himself between them-- he'd only given you a baggy shirt to wear, not even panties, and so all he had to do was lift your legs to see you. "Oh, beautiful," he sighed, and you bit your lip and looked away.

He pushed the shirt up higher, humming as he felt your chest, and you shut your eyes just before you felt him wrap his lips around a hardened nipple. You didn't mean to moan, and really, it wasn't a moan-- more just a sound of surprise-- but he moaned back as he suckled at your chest.

He seemed to get a little more desperate after that, breathing heavily as he pulled back and quickly pulled the shirt off over your head-- kissing your lips again hungrily as he opened his belt and jeans. You felt strange, being naked under him while he was still basically completely dressed, but then again the whole ordeal was pretty strange.

You tried to hide your reaction when you caught a glimpse of his cock, but you couldn't really help it: your eyes went wide and your throat dried up, terrified to imagine how that was supposed to fit inside you.

But you couldn't look at it for very long, he laid down over you and rubbed it over your waiting pussy with a long, satisfied sigh.

"You're wet," he noticed in a whisper as he slid through your folds; you were, though you weren't sure why, and the way his voice sounded as he pointed it out seemed to only make it worse. "I'll take it slow," he promised, kissing by your ear. "O-or, I'll try, at least."

Pushing his hips forward, you both gasped when his fat head finally broke through your body's resistance; it stung, and you winced, but he moaned softly.

"Warm," he sighed, "and tight, fuck, so tight-- you can take a little more, right?"

But you whined and dug your fingers into his shoulders as he pushed in deeper, stretching you more than you were ready for.

"Oh, am I hurting you?" he breathed. "Sorry, I'm sorry-- I didn't mean to..."

You heard the conflict in his voice, though: he wanted to be sorry for hurting you, but it clearly aroused him to see you struggling to fit him.

He moved further inside again and watched your face in awe as you yelped, trying to grab his hips to keep him from going in anymore, but he plunged on with a low moan. "Oh, god," he choked out, "you can take it, sweet girl, I promise you can take it."

With one more sharp movement, he managed to completely sheath himself inside you, and your legs shook from the pain of the intrusion.

He grunted, head falling back a bit, before burying his face in your neck and sighing against your skin. "I knew you could be good for me," he breathed, "oh, my beautiful girl-- all mine now, aren't ya? My pretty thing."

He set his pace, not too fast yet but not nearly as slow as you would've wanted-- actually, you didn't want him to move yet at all, and even his gentle and patient thrusts made your face twist.

"Mine," he panted, moaning a little more as his hand rested on your head, thumb gently stroking your hair. "I'll take such good care of ya, I swear. You won't even miss it, bein' all alone out there... gonna keep you fed and warm and safe..."

You sighed a little, trying to relax at the thought.

"Gonna get you pregnant," he added rather abruptly, and you tensed up-- everywhere. He groaned as your walls clenched on his cock, and started to fuck you faster. "Mm, you'll be so pretty, nice and full with my baby..."

You were speechless-- you could beg him not to do that to you, but you were quickly realizing that that was what he wanted with you all along. Sure, he had physical needs he wanted taken care of with you, but that was clearly secondary to an even more primal desire. His hand moved down from your head and came to rest on your stomach-- the very lowest part of it, below your belly button-- and your eyes rolled back as you realized you could feel him there, that deep inside you.

"I can see it, fuck," he choked as he pulled his hand back to get a look at it, at the place where, just barely, his thrusts created a bulge inside you. "Right there, that's where I'm gonna fill you up, pretty girl."

You held tightly onto him, terribly overwhelmed but desperate for something to cling to.

"You'll be the cutest little mommy," he cooed, "and we'll be a family. We'll be happy, I promise. You'll be happy here-- you and our babies."

He didn't waste any time throwing out the plural there, did he? That, finally, was enough to make you protest: "Emmett," you gasped, "wait, I--"

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, holding onto you tighter and giving you a thrust so deep that you choked on your own whine. "It's okay, sweet girl, it's what you're meant for."

#dark!emmett a quiet place smut #emmett a quiet place x reader #emmett a quiet place dark smut

[a-spes]

| THE PLACE WE'VE BEEN DREAMING OF - Imagine (1,109 words).

| Summary - when Natasha enventually gives in, and accept her wife's demand to adopt a pet.

| Tags & warning - Men & Minors DNI, soft dark!wandanat x R, not really pet play but R is reffered to as one (stray/mutt/it), a man being mean, mentions of death, hints of (past) abuse, pure fluff/comfort.

| Author's note - I wrote that quickly because it has been on my mind for so long, and I definitely needed to share it with the world, but hope you'll enjoy it anyway! I'll definitely write a longer version of it when I've time, but for the moment, here goes the first introduction to The place we've been dreaming of alternative universe (and it's only the beginning because i've so many thoughts to share about it) <3

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

it was wands' idea. she had begging nat for years, talking about how good it would be to have a pet, just to bring a bit of life in the household.

and that's exactly what natasha feared. because she likes how quiet, and tidy, her house is. she likes the routine she built with her wife over the years, and she is reluctant to bring another piece in her house.

but how could she deny her wife when she begs her with those puppy eyes?

so she eventually gave in, and they went into a place that's only known by the richest persons. it's kind of a shelter, but instead of animals, human being are sold.

they walked in, wands looking in the cages while nat roll her eyes everytime she tries to have her opinion. "did you find what you want?" the seller asked, and nat looks at her wife that seems to hesitate. "what's over here?" she asked back, pointing to a noisy alley that constrats with the quiet one they've just travelled.

the sellers just dismissed her question, "they're unfit" he just replied, "they're going to be send off tomorrow". "where?" wands asked. "to be killed", he replied, but when he tried to get the conversation back on his best goods, wanda ignored him: she wanted to see these ones. nat isn't surprised, her wife always having a thing for saving broken being, but she still roll her eyes, thinking about the additionnal trouble it'll bring.

so, before the man could say anything, they walk in the alley. the ambience is different. yells, cries, and dark glances greet the women, while in the first alley, everyone's was perfect. nat cringes while her wife walk around, until she crouches in front of a cage that, at the first sight, appears to be empty.

except that, that you are here. in the back of the cage, hiding where the light can barely find you, trying to forget where you are. the noise is frightening you, but your hands covering your ears isn't enough to reduce it. the yells from the other still bugging you.

you've no idea for how long you've been here, but it felt like an eternity. you've been sent back here by your previous owner, it was your last chance, you've been told, and you don't know what's going to happen. when the door clicked, you thought your hour had come, and it only made you curl up further.

but the hand that came for you wasn't harsh. it hasn't tried to grab you. when you eventually open your eyes, your met by the sight of a woman, that's trying to get you to come to her. her voice is sweet. she doesn't yell as you thought she would when you didn't move at first.

the men had to bang against the walls to get you out, which earn him a glance from both of the women. he ignored them. "this stray has one of the worse behavior. she bites, is noisy, messy, agressive, ..." but wanda isn't listening anymore. she is just looking at you, sitting in front of her, unable to ignore the look on your eyes. the fear, and the exhaustion.

you didn't bite. you didn't made a noise. you didn't try to run away.

you only flinched when she reach out to stroke your cheek, but a second was enough for you to lean into her contact. it was so sweet. so gentle. and, for the first time, it felt genuine, and even the slap or the harsh grip you were waiting for never came. she was looking at you with pity, and something you couldn't name yet.

"... she couldn't behave even to save her life, we've tried everything. she's trouble", he adds, still talking even if none of the women is caring about his opinion, "believe me, she'll be better dead", and nat muttered something how he should be the one to die, while wanda didn't listen at all to his speech, all her attention being on you right now.

"you're sure that's the one you want, wands?" she asked, but she already knew her wife would nod, and she is definitely not going to fight her, especially when she sees how attached she already seems to be.

she looked at her while she take a biscuit out of her pocket, just to give a bit to you, but ends up giving you everything when she notices how you inhaled it. her brows furrowing together, but she doesn't say a word. she knows it would be useless to start a scene right now, this man perfectly knowing how bad he is treating you, and everyone else here. or maybe he doesn't, and doesn't realizes, thinking you deserve it, and then it would be pointless to argue with him. in that instant, she wishes she could take them all home, and if she can't, she can at least save one life.

"we didn't even bring her home yet that you're already spoiling her" nat complained, rolling her eyes. a whispered, "she deserves it", is muttered under her breath while the man seems annoyed, "if you're too lenient, you're going to regret it. you need to be firm with these things, you know." "and how would you know?" nat would ask, "apparently it didn't work well, from what you said earlier" and she smirks when she notices he starts to loose his temper, his voice being harsh when he replies, "then do not even think about taking her back when you'll realize how bad she is," just to nat to assure him that he "doesn't need to worry about that".

she isn't found of her wife's choice. she would have prefer it if she choose one of the perfect pet from the first alley. one of the one that wouldn't disturb her peace. but obviously her wife had to go for a stray, a mott, and a broken one by the way. but if there are two things she enjoys it's seeing her wife smiling, and pissing off men that thinks they know everything. if adopting that one allows to do it both at the same time, then she's all for it. a part of her wanting to prove the man that he is just wrong, and is the problem in that story.

#a spes writing #imagine #the place we've been dreaming of universe #wandanat #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #reader insert #fluff writing #soft dark wandanat

[iovesia]

erotic horror prompts: john wick with "sex or violence as tools for domination"? i love u jo ur my favorite keanu writer, literally carrying my life rn 🎀

favorite?? ily nonnie pls 🌷🐰

john wick + sex and violence as tools for domination.

violence is his love language.

violence is love.

it's all he knew: how could you love if you weren't willing to kill for it? you just didn't understand, but he'd make you. he'd show you. his love was intense, scary, and violent— and as much as it hurt your ego, it kept you under his devoted, but iron fist.

his violence was never directed at you, never you. but being surrounded by it left, right, and center, it might as well have been at you. the utter fear of knowing he could if he really wanted to.. is what made you subservient to him.

knowing that the hand that holds your face so softly— holds guns for a living. has been covered in the blood of hundreds, even thousands (you learned the hard way it's better not to ask..).

"you don't want to know," his faux-gentle tone did not soothe your tears, as you shakily help take off his blood soaked dress shirt, exposing the blood and cuts on his burly chest. it was routine at this point. but it scared you no less to be so close to him in this state.

in all fairness, the sex helped.

aside from his overt attractives; a mane of raven hair you loved running your fingers through, a thin stubble which grew shivers on your skin when it tickled along your thighs, or his calloused hands that held you tight like a chain— it was his violent passion.

he fucks like it's his last. each hard and slow thrust, which felt like a slap to your guts, and the litter of love bites on your neck that you swore were his attempts to cut your skin; you got addicted fast to feeling like the only one in the world who could tame him.

or at least the only one to handle a baba yaga's violent love.

#love letters. #... this got Kinda dark Sorry i'm Not in a good place rn 🤗🤗🤗!!! #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #*⠀john wick. #tw abuse implied #dark john wick

[lilacevans]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ dark!ari levinson x female!reader (non-descriptive)

✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 475.

✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: verbal humiliation, ball-sucking, references to face slapping, dirty talk, filthy ari.

✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: anonymous

✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: the big one is here!! this one was really fun to write; although i do need to get better at writing dirty talk as idk i just struggle with it but that's the whole point of these little drabbles. if u have any pointers pls don't hesitate to drop them in my ask box, i always welcome help!! anyway! enjoy my ari lovin' besties!! pls lemme know what u think & check out the main masterlist if this is the first your seeing anything of this series!!

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

Ari sat, propped up by an assortment of pillows against the headboard, head tipped back; long sandy strands clung to the sweat on his brow.

Soft amber glows from the setting sun snuck in through the glass panes, covering your naked body with a fading warmth as you laid between his legs. Red lipstick smeared over your lips, cheek and chin; the same red lipstick covered Ari’s thighs in pretty kisses smudging under your fingertips as you kneaded his thighs as you lapped at the skin of his balls, letting out soft, muted moans that made Ari reply with pleased hums and chesty grunts.

Heat burnt across your cheeks and the burning remnants of Ari’s heavy palms on your thighs blended together. The hues of red smeared across your face was complimented by the muted pink of your tongue, skilfully rubbing at the underside of Ari’s balls before your lips parted to suck one slowly into your mouth. 

‘’That’s it, Pup,’’ Ari groaned, slow and deep; hand stroking over your hair, his hand settling lightly on the back of your neck; the sudden softness from the heaviness of his hands earlier caused your head to spin. ‘’Such a good pup.” 

You whined at the sound of his drawled praise, pleasure filled and throbbing core. Your hips humped at the sheets below you, hopelessly trying to find enough pressure to relieve the ache between your legs. Ari’s chuckle soon brought you out of your head as you peered up to find his gaze locked on you, a smirk pulled at his lips. 

‘’Pathetic little Pup, humping the sheets like a bitch in heat. Live  for nothin’ but to be used— nothin’ but hole,’’ Ari taunted, hand now gripping the back of your neck, drawing you closer to his sack.  ‘’And you fuckin’ love it. You know you do. You’d waste days between my thighs, wouldn’t you, Pup?” 

A pitiful whine escaped your throat as you were forced to lower your gaze from his intense stare, trying to sink into the sheets while keeping your mouth and tongue running over his balls. 

‘’Tryna’ hide from me, Pup?’’ Ari teased, fingers finding your face to tilt your eyes back to him. ‘’Don’t go shy on me now,’’ Ari continued, teeth on show as he gleamed down at you. ‘’I know that slutty mouth can fit more than one in there; will stuff your mouth full if I have to.``

Ari’s threat made you push yourself, widening your mouth and using your fingertips to manipulate both of his heavy balls to settle against your tongue. Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning softly around the skin, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth; stuffed to the brim and overflowing with everything Ari. 

‘’That’s it, get ‘em dripping, pet,’’ Ari moaned into the open air. ‘’You fuckin’ love it,’’ Ari repeated breathlessly as a hand disappeared from your hair and moved to fist at his leaking cock. “Gonna keep you there forever.”

#chris evans #ari levinson #dark!chris evans #dark!ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levison x reader #chris evans characters #dark chris evans fic #dark au #dark verse #pete's place #ari: pete's place #cevans #lila writes #lila's drabbles #pete's place: the drabbles

[hllywdwhre]

For any Cillian fans on Insta: this blog has 44K and is using Cillian’s face to spread transphobic crap

#pretty ironic given the fact he’s played multiple trans characters and is hugely supportive #cillian murphy #Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby #Peaky blinders #Oppenheimer #dunkirk #a quiet place #batman #scarecrow #dark knight trilogy #breakfast on pluto #watching the detectives #red eye #in time #the delinquent season #cillian murphy x reader #Cillian Murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut

[mypoisonedvine]

If you’re opening up requests, I need a dark!Emmett x reader. Something like “a man has needs, and I can’t push them aside when I’m with you.”

you're so right and you should say it!!

warnings: noncon, outdoor/semi-public sex, choking

The man had you pressed up against a tree painfully hard, and he was much stronger than you had any chance against: there was no way you were getting out of this. "Shh," he whispered beside your ear-- barely even a whisper, it was so quiet.

You must have heard that a thousand times since this all began, but it had never made you quite as terrified as it did now.

He held you close, an arm tightly around you that kept your back to his chest, as his free hand reached down to open his bent and jeans. When you whimpered, he squeezed you harder in warning.

His cock pressed up to your opening, and you shut your eyes tight. "Please," you begged under your breath, "please don't--"

He shoved into you roughly, thankfully covering your mouth just before you choked out a loud whine. "Fuck," he spat, starting to thrust quickly as your legs quivered from the sudden and violent intrusion. "Stay fuckin' quiet or I'll have to make you quiet, understood?"

You nodded under the tight grip of his hand, but he himself wasn't the quietest: little grunts suppressed by biting his lip, heavy breaths through his nose.

"Tight," he blurted out once, moving his hands down to hold your hips instead. You tried to be quiet, your whole face scrunching up at the pain of being stretched on something so thick, but even still there was the sound of his hips hitting your ass and thighs; you whined for a second when he shoved your shoulders down, forcing you to bend over where you stood here in the forest.

When a particularly rough thrust forced your mouth to burst open with a pained moan, he quickly wrapped his hand around your throat and tightened until you were completely silent.

"Warned you," he spat. "Better make me come quick, sweetheart, 'cause I'm not letting you breathe again 'til m'done with ya."

#dark!emmett a quiet place x reader #emmett a quiet place dark fic #emmett a quiet place smut #cillian murphy dark fic

[andydrysdalerogers]

Under the Hood 

Dark! Mechanic Steve Rogers x F!Reader 

A broken car, a handsome hero. Nothing but a spark between you. If only you knew... 

Song: Tainted Love by Soft Cell

Word Count: ~ 2.7K

Warning: 18+ only! SMUT!, drugging, dub-con, degradation, oral (f-receiving), dark! Steve Rogers 

Mood board by: @georgiapeach30513

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

A/N: This came from the mood board challenge game that @georgiapeach30513 hosted a few weeks ago. I spun the wheels and have been pushed out of my comfort zone. My spins were Mechanic Steve Rogers, degradation and drugging.  Please heed the warnings below.   

As this is an out of my comfort zone fic, feedback would be appreciated but being mean or rude comments will not be tolerated and you will be promptly blocked. 

Doing my normal taglist at the bottom. Please let me know if you want to be removed.

Main Master List

Climbing down the steps of your building, your smile is big as you look forward to your day. Being an art teacher was fun, especially with the younger children.  As you climbed in your vehicle, you couldn’t help but sigh. Today was going to be a great day.  

But then, your car wouldn’t start.  

“C’mon,” you muttered. Your smile fell. This was an older car for sure, but it wasn’t that old.  You got out and popped the hood. Not seeing anything out of place. You tossed your head back and sighed.  So much for it being a great day.  

“Need some help?” 

You jumped and whipped around to the voice behind you.  A man, a gorgeous man stood behind you, a rag wiping grease from his hands.  You eyed him, up and down.  Blonde hair, blue eyes, scruff around his chiseled jaw, white, dirty shirt that was fitted to a narrow waist and tone legs wrapped in jeans. Motorcycle boots finished the look and you managed to look back up at the Adonis standing in front of you.  You swallow, “my car won’t start.”  

“I can see that.  Can I look?” He smiled but you hesitated.  “My name is Steve and I work at the garage.”  He pointed to the garage, Barnes Automotive. It had been a staple in the neighborhood for years.  

“Sure.”  You stepped aside, smoothing out your dress as Steve ducked his head under the hood.  You chewed your lip as he fiddled with the engine.  

“Looks like there are a couple of problems, sweetheart. Gonna take a few weeks to repair.” He looked at you as he cleaned his hands.  

“No,” you whispered. Tears began to flood your eyes.  What were you going to do? You had to get to work and now you were stuck.  

“You ok?” 

“No,” you repeated, louder this time.  “I don’t know a lot of people in this town and I’m not sure how I’ll get to work and stuff.” You sniffed, trying to keep the tears at bay.  

“Well, I can give you a ride,” Steve offered. “I’m at the garage early and I can step out to take you and pick you up. We’re neighbors after all.”  

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.”  

“My mama would whoop my ass if I left a lady all alone, stranded.  Promise, I don’t bite.” He smiled again and you melted. There was nothing wrong with accepting help.  “C’mon sweetheart, what do say?” 

And it started.  Every day, Steve would give you a ride in his classic black Mustang and pick you up every night. You would chat the five or so miles every day. He had coffee ready for you, once he learned of your preferences.  He was charming and sweet.  

And every day, you fell, more and more.  

Steve was falling in love.  

Well, to be honest, he had been in love with you for months.  When he first saw you, you were moving into the neighborhood.  You were beautiful, your hair swept up in a bun at the top of your head with a glitter headband that made him think you had a halo. Jean short that hugged your ass as your shirt was knotted at the waist. Just the sight of you made his dick twitch, your hair, skin, clothes, everything made his blood sing.  

“I need to know her,” he told his best friend, Bucky.  

Bucky whistled, “she is a dime. What’s your plan?” 

“Get to know her. However way I can.” Steve smirked and walked away, putting his plan into motion.  

About six weeks into the repairs, you needed a mental health day.  You sent a text to Steve to let him know that you were staying home.  

You: I’m sorry, I need a rest day, not going to work 

Steve: everything ok? 

You: yeah, I'm just needed a break. Going to veg on the couch 

You: I’ll miss your coffee tho 

You got no response to that last message.  Frowning, you went to make your own cup when there was a knock on the door.  Curious, you looked through the peephole and smiled.  “Steve, what are you doing here?” 

“I didn’t want you to miss your cup of coffee.” He held out the travel mug to you, the special one he bought especially after mixing up the cups once before.  

“Oh, you didn’t have to be so sweet,” you swooned. You took the cup and took a sip. “So good.”  

Steve grinned; “I added some cinnamon to the coffee.” 

“God, my own personal barista.” You gave him a big smile. “You want to come in?” 

“Sure, if that’s ok.”  

“It is. I’m just taking a me day today. Veg out, you know.”  

Steve frowned. “Veg out?” 

“Lay like broccoli.” You giggled.  “It's from a movie. Pretty Woman?” 

“Never seen it.”  

Your jaw dropped. “Steve! How could you have gone through life without seeing Pretty Woman. Rich guy meets hooker, and they make an arrangement to help him.  But before she gets paid, she falls in love.” You clutch your hands to your chest. “And then the guy chases after her to tell her he loves her too.”  

“Sweetheart, I’m a guy. We don’t watch movies like that.”  

“Well, you will today.” You took his hand and tugged him to the couch. You sat down next to him and pulled your blanket over your legs.  

“Sweetheart...” 

“Nope. I need to educate you.” You flipped on the movie and reached for your coffee to sip.  As the movie started, you snuggled closer to Steve, the warmth of his body drawing you in. The smell of the coffee, his cologne mixed with his natural scent was an aphrodisiac. You sighed when he put his arm around behind you.  

Steve ran his long fingers over your skin, fluttering along the now sensitive flesh on your arm. Suddenly, you wanted to be closer. You scooted right next to him and laid your head on his shoulder as he dropped his arm around your waist.  His fingers now played with the strip of flesh that was exposed from your shirt riding up.  

“Steve,” you whispered.  

“Yeah baby, this ok?” 

You turned your head up to look up at him. He could see your pupils were blown, desire and lust filled them that all he could see was black. He smirks as he trails his finger down your cheek and watches as your eyes close from the sensation. “Open them,” he growls. You blink your eyes open to see the positively feral look in his eyes. “Mine.” And he kisses you.  

It’s everything you didn’t expect but everything you dreamed of. His lips are soft, but they kiss you rough and needy. You’re needy. You shift or he shifts you, you’re not exactly sure but now you’re in his lap, straddling him, your hands on his face to hold him to you, his arms around your hips. You pulled back to breathe. “Steve,” you mumbled.  

“You like this, don’t you baby girl. Rubbing yourself on me like a little slut.” He pulled you back in and rocked your hips back and forth on his lap.  Your thin cotton shorts allowed him to feel how hot your pussy was, and it left nothing to the imagination.  The friction on your pussy from his erection pushing up through his jeans was mind-blowing.  

Desire flooded your blood, his words setting you on fire. “Fuck, Steve,” you moaned as your hips began to move on their own.  

“That’s it, grind on my cock. Fucking slut.” Steve assaulted your neck and shoulders, moving your shirt out of the way.  “Fuck this,” he yanked the shirt off of your body, grinning at the fact that you had no bra on. “God damn, these tits are just made to be sucked on.”  

“Yes, please,” you moaned. Your mind was spiraling; you’ve never been so turned on. It borderline hurt, the need to have Steve touch you, taste you, fill you.  God, you needed Steve to fuck you, like yesterday.  

Steve chuckles darkly at your neediness. “I’m going to destroy this pussy soon enough baby.” When you whined louder, he grinned. “You like that, don’t you, you dirty whore. You want me to wreck this body.” You nodded and Steve flipped you onto the couch, so he hovered on top. He rolled his hips against you, and you shuddered at his hard length pressing into you. “How long has it been, hmm?” 

You went silent, embarrassed at how long it had been since you had been with a man. Lust was overcoming your senses, but you resisted answering him.  

“It's been that long, huh?” Steve chuckled as he took a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched, relishing the feeling of his hot mouth on you.  

“S-steve, fuck, please!” 

“Oh, beg for me, slut, beg for what you want. Fucking brat can’t wait, can she? Maybe I’ll choke you on my cock so I can see your lips wrapped around me.”  You keened at the suggestion and Steve’s jaw dropped for a second before pulling himself off of you and moving you to your knees. “Open, fucking cock tease and choke on me.”  

You didn’t hesitate, wait, why didn’t you hesitate? Your mind was in a daze of lust and yearning.  

And Steve knew.  

He knew why you didn’t hesitate.  For once, John Walker had been proven useful. “Just a drop,” he said, “in her drink and she becomes putty in your hands.”  And the six weeks of spending time together in the car had put your guard down. So trusting, so innocent, so … his.  

The first touch of your lips on his cock was like lighting up his spine. “Fuck, that mouth is hot,” he moaned as you bobbed on the tip. You weren't sure if you could take all of Steve. He was the largest you had ever seen or been with. Steve threaded his hand into your hair and pushed you deeper onto him.  “I said to choke, you stupid slut. I want my dick to be imprinted on your throat.” His other hand grabbed at your neck and squeezed just enough to feel his cock. “That’s it, my little slut.”  

You gagged as his cock punched your throat. Tears mixed your saliva as you took as much of Steve as you could. The man was at least nine inches of solid, velveting man and just feeling every ridge made yor core tingle in delight.  

Before Steve could release, he pulled back. “No, I want to cum inside this pussy.” He lifted you off the floor and into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.  His cock was nestled in between you and you could feel it pulsing, wanting to release and fill you with his warmth. “I wanna watch my cum leak out of your gaping, stretched out hole so I can push it back into it.” You shuddered at his words. Steve chuckled.  You like that, hmm? He throws you on the bed and reaches for your sleep shorts.  Not even fighting me. Horny bitch. He rips the rest of your clothes away and you squeak at the force.  

He latches on to a nipple and your back arches as he bites and tugs on the peak. “St-st-steve,” you wail as he continues to lavish attention. 

“Beg for it, slut. Beg me to fuck you hard. Beg for my cock to fill you up and leave my seed I your womb, fucking cock drunk whore.” You cry as he sinks down as pulls your clit between his teeth. “Knew you were cock drunk when you can’t even beg.  Beg, dammit! Beg or I won’t give you want you want! God damn slut! Bet you just prance around like a goddam tease for all of the other guys in the neighborhood.  Bet you have a line so they can just use you.” His big hand covered your throat.  

This snaps you out of your daze, grabbing onto his wrist.  “No! No I don’t. I’m not a whore!” 

“Yes, you are, slut. Wasted no time letting me in here. Am I the first?” He scoffed.  “I doubt it.”  

“No! No! Just you, only you, Stevie, just you!” You cried as Steve held your throat tighter. “Only want you,” you whispered as the air flow began to dwindle.  

Steve felt your hand begin to loosen from his wrist and he let go of the pressure.  You gasped and he pushed hard into your tight heat. “Fuuuuuck,” he moaned, feeling you wrapped around him.  

You tried to make a noise at the intrusion, pain screaming through your body.  But your brain, well your brain enjoyed the pain. It wanted to Steve’s cock to wreck your body but had no idea why. You just needed him and the pain was worth the pleasure you were feeling now.  Steve withdrew and you whimpered at the slight loss.  He chuckled. “Needy cock slut.” He slammed back into you, and you found your voice, screaming.  

He kept the pace, pounding into you as his filthy words penetrating the air. His cock was so deep, you swore it was in your stomach at this point. His pubic hair was brushing along your clit, sending zings through your core, causing you to clench around him.  

“Oh fuck, this pussy is gripping me so tight. Wanna cum, slut? Use your words.”  

“Pl-please!” 

“Words, fucking cunt. Use. Your. WORDS!” He punctuated each word with a thrust into you.  

“Please let me cum!” You screamed as the pleasure was reaching its point.  

“CUM!” 

He roared as he pinched your clit.  

It was like lighting through you.  You pulsed and exploded, squeezing his cock so hard, he couldn’t move. “That’s it, fuck, Such a good little whore.” The tension in your body eased and you were pliant under Steve.  He continued to move, thrusting to meet his end. You cried out from oversensitivity.  

“Can’t,” you cried.  

“Oh yes you can.” Steve kissed you hard until you were bubbling underneath him, your body climbing again. “I need to fill this body with my cum. Fuck, gonna make you a mommy, little whore.”  

Why would he say that? You thanked God that you were on birth control but still his words, shit, his words were bringing your body to the brink again. “Steve,” you moaned.  

“Ready for another? Wanna be my cum drop, hmm? Let me fuck my baby into you?” Steve thrusted harder and harder. You cried out, his hips slamming into you. “That’s it, cum again. Let me fill this slutty pussy up.” One, two and you were gone, eyes rolling back as your body arched from the third explosive orgasm of the day.  “Fuck! Yes!” And with a thrust, Steve flooded your womb with his warmth.  He slowed his hips, dumping everything he had into you.  

He lay on top, his head in the crook of your neck, catching his breath.  You didn’t move and when he lifted his head, he smirked as he realized you were passed out under him. He pulled out and saw his cum starting to seep out. “Whoops, gotta keep the good stuff in there.”  He pushed his cum back into you.  

After grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you up, he went back to the living room and saw a couple of things had fallen from his jacket.  He saw the packet of pills, snorting at the thought of him switching out your birth control for the last few weeks. “A necessary evil,” he said to himself. Honestly, he wanted a family as soon as possible with you and hopefully this session took.  

The second item was more unusual, but it was the catalysis to start his dreams. The saying was that you just need a spark to start something wonderful. But really, you just needed a spark plug to get our engine going. Not that you were going to be going anywhere other than to his apartment to start your new life.  

He tsk at the thought. If only she knew to check under the hood more often. 

Ah well. Lesson learned. Future planned. Girl secured.   

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@jennmurawski13-writes

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

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#andy's shenanigans #Andy's dark place #Steve rogers #steve rogers smut #mechanic Steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans #under the hood #steve rogers one shot #chris evans fanfiction

[deceitfuldevout]

Deceitfuldevout's Cillian Murphy Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-Shots:

Highest Bidder - Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/728906757005606912/highest-bidder?source=share

Naughty Little Thief - Dark!Jackson Rippner x Theif!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/729562829842186240/naughty-little-thief?source=share

Happy Purge - Purge AU: Soft!Dark!Mike Kiernan x Student!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/730288962181136384/happy-purge?source=share

Scream - Ghostface!Neil Lewis x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/730746273137819648/scream?source=share

Struggle - Soft!Dark!Neil Lewis x BestFriend!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/732171656283471872/struggle?source=share

Blessed Be The Fruit - Soft!Dark!Sergeant!Tommy Shelby x Maiden!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/735516775906705408/blessed-be-the-fruit?source=share

First and Last - Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader: https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/737440069578866688/first-and-last?source=share🔞🖤

Series:

Hidden Treasure - Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/707809508943151104/hidden-treasure-masterlist?source=share

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy works #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #dark!tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby x you #dark!emmett a quiet place 2 x reader #dark!emmett a quiet place #dark!emmett #dark!emmett x reader #emmett a quiet place #emmett a quiet place 2 #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x you #dark!neil lewis x reader #jakcson ruppner x reader #dark!jackson rippner x reader #robert fischer x reader #dark!robert fischer x reader #mike kiernan x reader #dark!mike kiernan x reader

[zepskies]

Being Human – Part 2

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: Thank you for your lovely responses on Part 1!! I'm very excited to bring you the next chapter of Being Human.

Chapter Summary: You know that Alec is hiding something, and it’s more than the fact that he’s been dating another girl behind your back. [Set during 2.11]

Song Inspo: “Sailing” by Avant

Word Count: 6,200

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, two-timing (don’t worry), mentions of Manticore’s training (torture), hurt/comfort, mega feels, smuttishness.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: The Only Place

Alec showing up at your door unannounced isn’t anything new.

This time, however, he comes bearing a raw chicken in a plastic bag and a sack of potatoes. Your eyes go wide as you let him into your apartment.

“Where the hell did you find that,” you gesture at the chicken. In this economy, it might as well have been a five-pound lobster with a side of caviar.

Alec waggles his brows at you and flashes his familiar grin.

“Farmer’s market,” he says. “I fought some rich lady and her Pomeranian for this.”

You extend “gimme gimme” fingers at the bag as you lick your lips. You two are going to eat good tonight. You can even use the bones to make soup for the rest of the week.

Still, something niggles at the back of your mind.

“But this must’ve been so expensive. You didn’t have to do this,” you say, looking up from the bag of goods to your boyfriend’s face. He gives you an easy smile as his arm hooks around your waist.

“Don’t worry about it. I won a few pool game bets off Sketchy. Not to mention a couple of his paychecks,” Alec says.

His smirk makes you shake your head, but you wonder if he’s telling you the truth. He always seems to have cash to spare, despite the fact that he’s only been working at Jam Pony for a few months—barely making minimum wage.

Regardless, you start to prepare the chicken with what seasonings you have in your pantry while Alec peels the potatoes for you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

Not for the first time, you wonder how he really lives. You’ve never been to his apartment before. Despite being friends with Max (there seems to be history there), he just got to Seattle a few months ago. And as for family, he claimed he had to leave home.

“It was what you’d call…an unstable environment,” he’d said. 

That, you could understand. Your own father had died when you were fairly young. After the Pulse, a virus had swept through and ravaged your hometown in rural Massachusetts.

Unfortunately, a shortage of antibiotics at the local hospitals left your mom without much help to fight off what ailed her body. You’d spread her ashes in the Charles River, where she used to love to paddleboat with you when you were a kid.

Then, you’d packed up what little you had and left the East Coast to make a life for yourself out here, alone. The city had been a challenge for you at first, being a smalltown girl at heart, but the hustle and bustle distracted you in a way you’d needed.

Now, Seattle has become your home, for better or worse. 

Alec knows all of this about you. He knows about your guilty pleasure of fried eggs, rice, and Vienna sausages: one of the ultimate struggle meals. He knows you love ice cream so much, you’d eat it for breakfast if you could.

He also knows you wanted to be a veterinarian, of all things, before the pulse. Now you have no hope or prayer of ever affording college, even if you tried.

But Alec…he still largely remains a mystery to you, no matter how deep he’s wedged himself under your skin.

“You’re really concentrating on that chicken,” Alec says, but his voice startles you, as it’s suddenly very close to your ear. You jump slightly as his arms wrap around your frame from behind.

You giggle a little, but you tilt your head to allow him access when his lips find your neck.

“Have I thanked you for this yet?” you ask. “I can’t remember the last time I had honest to God poultry…that also didn’thave a 50% chance of being radioactive.”

You feel the shape of Alec’s smile against your skin.

“No, as a matter of fact, but feel free to express your gratitude sexually,” he rejoins.

You have to laugh in earnest at that. You wash your hands in the sink before you turn in his arms and take his face gently in your hands. You bring him down to you for a sweeter kiss than he expected.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips. “It’s nice, having someone who thinks about me.”

His brows furrow a bit at that. He didn’t think bringing you an unexpected meal would be all that impressive, but…he also knows how long you’ve been alone.

For reasons he can’t tell you, it makes a twinge of guilt hit him behind the ribs.

All throughout dinner, and afterwards, Alec is hooked on the familiar soap opera playing on the TV in the living room. You both are sitting on the couch, but you’re half watching him, amused by his reactions. He’s absolutely glued to an episode you’ve already seen.

“You’re even more obsessed than I am,” you tease.

Alec spares you a wan look. “I just wanna know whose baby it is.”

A teasing smile forms across your face as you shift onto your knees and lean over to him, as if whispering a secret in his ear.

“And it’s actually twins,” you tease.

His expression of enrapture shifts with a wry edge. 

“Twins, huh?”

That seems to take him out of his enjoyment, somehow.

You frown a little. “You okay?”

“Always,” he responds, glancing at you. He visibly lightens up, pulling you into his lap with a muttered, Come ‘ere.

You giggle at his manhandling and oblige him with a few stolen kisses.

You feel bold enough to push him back to lie on the couch, and he actually lets you. His hands find your hips while you move to straddle his. Your fingertips drift down his chest as you consider him with a tilt of your head.

“Why haven’t I ever been to your place?” you ask. You draw an imaginary pattern across his chest, grazing him with your nails. His skin prickles under his clothes, but he stares up at you and shrugs without giving into your distraction.

“What, do you live above a strip club or something?” you add, smirking.

Alec’s expression matches yours as he squeezes your hips. “I like coming to you.”

Letting out a breath through your nose, you lean down and try plying him with slow, nipping kisses down his jawline, then his neck.

“Hmm, I still think you’re evading,” you say between kisses. “Tell me. Why haven’t you invited me back to your apartment?”

“Aren’t you getting demanding,” he teases back, even though his breath hitches when you nip a bit harder, just under his ear. Your deft hands run over his chest, toying with his senses. Already the scent of the soap you use has invaded his nose, like it always does. Jasmine.

“You knew this about me,” you say against his skin. He feels the movements of your lips like an added tease.

“Yeah,” he acknowledges. His smirk deepens. “Not gonna lie, I kinda like it.”

You smile. “So answer the question. Or do I have to punish you?”

Fuck, sweetheart, be my guest, Alec thinks. But he forces himself to focus on your words, reading between the lines of what you’re really fishing for.

“My place isn’t all that safe,” he says.

You snort. “Safe is relative in this city. Besides, I thought you said my apartment was questionable at best.”

“I said you needed better security.”

“You’re my security.”

Alec’s smirk returns at that. “Is that all I’m good for?”

“Better than a doorman,” you joke, leaning down to him again. “You deliver right to my door.”

“You think you’re so clever,” Alec says. Your lips find his in a kiss, and they lure him back into the pull of you. How easy it would be, just to let you “catch” him. Every night. Every day. 

Your arms cage his head as you finally lay down on top of him, slowly rolling your hips against his. Both of you feel his hardness twitch against your thigh. You smirk against his lips. 

“And right on time,” you quip. 

“All right, that’s enough outta you,” Alec says, and he claims you with a more demanding kiss. His fingers sink into your hair tightly.  

But you press your hand to his cheek, making him pause for a moment. The amusement fades from his eyes the longer he stares into yours. You’re not teasing or joking anymore. 

You lower down and kiss him with meaning. With tenderness. 

You don’t know how it makes that coil of guilt grip him like a vice.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” you mutter.

Your exasperation has reached an all-time high.

You’re really trying not to clock this bitch in the throat. When she grabs you by the hair, however, you have no choice.

Your punch lands squarely up the bridge of Marina’s nose with a crack that makes even Original Cindy wince.

You feel sick to your stomach.

Not just because your coworker and former friend Marina has stumbled to the floor, looking up at you with ire and a bloody nose. But because you just found out that you and Marina have somehow been dating the same man.

Alec had been standing off to the side with a semblance of concern behind his eyes (but mostly shock). You turn to him next, and he freezes. All the nearby Jam Pony employees watch the scene as you grasp Alec’s arm and warn him with only your eyes—it’s in his best interest to follow you to the lockers.

He acquiesces, even though his shifty eyes say he wants to bolt. Cindy’s shaking her head with a flat expression. Max is outright glaring at him. Sketchy is grinning, shoots him a thumbs up as the two of you pass by.

Alec heeds your unspoken demand, but he crosses his arms once you let go of him.

“Apparently, Marina claims you’re her boyfriend,” you accuse. You press two fingers into his chest. “Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating her for what, two weeks tops? A relief to me, since I thought we’d been dating for almost two months.”

Alec laughs nervously and rubs the back of his head. “Well, you know, we never did say that we were exclusive—”

“Did you sleep with her?” you ask.

He falters at the look on your face. So incredibly hurt, but still holding out a sliver of hope.

The longer he stays quiet, the more that too starts to dim.

You can’t help yourself. You slap him across the face.

Alec takes the hit, making it look like it actually hurt him in the way he snaps his face to the side. He’s more shocked than anything, though he knows he doesn’t have a right to be.

Your lower lip trembles, but you also gasp with a wince and hold your hand, because somehow his face felt like a slab of iron. Shit! Does he have a metal plate in his head or something?

Alec sighs. “You okay there?”

He reaches for your hand, but you back away from him.

“Don’t touch me. Never touch me again,” you say shakily, through tears.

You don’t want to admit that your heart is breaking. You fucking idiot. You should’ve known your instincts would be right about Alec McDowell.

You grab your clipboard and your forgotten backpack from the floor by your locker, and you walk away from him before your tears start to fall.

In the aftermath of the fight, Normal raises hell about the fact that Marina’s quitting. You can’t really give a shit, but you’re not about to follow suit. You’ve never, and will never let a man get between you and your money.

You take your deliveries for the morning and start on your route.

And if you have to park your bike in an alleyway to cry without the prying eyes of your coworkers, then that’s your right as a woman.

Alec hides it well, but inside, his chest aches the way his face should. He doesn’t altogether know or want to think about why.

So he worms his way into a delivery run with Max to distract himself (and to escape Jam Pony HQ). Max gives him hell, as expected, but he tries to ignore her and get this job over with so he can drink himself into a stupor at Crash tonight.

…Or try to. Getting drunk is a difficult feat with his genetics, not to mention a very expensive pastime.

Right now, he and Max are riding their bikes through the richey rich side of town, so at least it’s cleaner. Manicured hedges and tall gates surround every house here. It’s almost kind of familiar, though he’s too focused on following Max to care much.

“I mean, it’s not like I intended to date ‘em both at the same time,” he defends himself. “And then when it turned out I was dating them both at the same time, it’s not like I didn’t intend to tell both girls about the other one. …You know, eventually.”

It’s like the universe itself calls himself out on his lie when the front tire of his bike skids. He pulls to a sharp stop in front of an iron gate and falls over onto the asphalt, but his reflexes are quick, and he picks himself up with a forced spring in his step.

“But let’s be real for a moment, shall we?” he says. “I mean, suppose I did tell them. What would happen, huh? Same thing. Big fight. Lots of anger and resentment and recriminations, and then who wins? Nobody.”

Max continues to watch him with a deadpan frown. “Well, at least in this case, you won.”

“Exactly,” Alec smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His expression falls anyway. “Well, no. Seeing as though neither of them will be likely to speak to me, which makes any kind of sex a virtual impossibility…at least for a couple of days.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Clearly both of them lost their damn minds to even give you the time of day.”

Alec has a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but it’s waylaid by a memory that used to make him smile. It now just settles heavily in his chest.

Two Months Ago...

Just then, the bartender slides you a beer you’ve already ordered. You thank him and give Alec a smile.

“Got it covered, thanks,” you reply, sipping the froth off your drink.

Alec sighs and crosses his arms. “When are you gonna stop putting the freeze on me?”

“When I’m not part of your internal checklist of Breasts on Legs,” you answer.

Alec scoffs and holds his chest.

“That’s hurtful,” he claims. “It really is.”

But he shifts toward you in his seat, cutting off your smile. You tense up and blush at his proximity, making his grin deepen.

Damn, she smells good, he thinks.

“Besides,” he says, “I always save the best for last.”

He knows he’s making you nervous in a good way. He can sense it, though you eye him wryly. He means to go in for the kill, but he’s thwarted when Original Cindy slides into the seat on your other side. She tosses you a wink, the way women do when they have their own unspoken language.

You then smirk in Alec’s face.

“Keep trying. Maybe someday I’ll lose my mind,” you say, with a teasing raise of brows.

He’s still amused as he shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable. Insulting, yet, still somehow endearing.”

He means it. Every time you turn him down, he’s genuinely disappointed.

But if you ever change your mind, he’ll be right here waiting.

That memory falters as Alec stares up at the familiar mansion. He just doesn’t remember that he’s been here before—not until he rings the doorbell. That sound dislodges a fragment in his mind.

One that makes him hide from the surveillance cameras on instinct. It has him throwing the package over the gate and grabbing Max to guide her away from the house before they’ve been able to get a signature.

And a name rings through all the clutter. A name that was once seared into his mind is wrenched open like a badly sewn wound.

Rachel.

You don’t see Alec for a few days. Which is good, because you’ve been avoiding him. 

Until he finally shows up for work, and somehow, he looks off. He lacks the jovial, devil-may-care attitude he wears like a second skin. 

He glances at you down the line at your locker, catching your gaze.  

You still can’t bear it. You turn your head away, feeling like a coward. You hear his locker door slam loudly and he leaves without even getting his schedule from Normal. 

You rest your head against the cool metal of your locker.

“Where the hell’re you going, mister!” Normal calls after his former favorite employee.

Despite your better judgment, you sigh and push away from your locker to face your boss.

“He’s got a stomach bug. Real nasty,” you call out.

Normal’s frown deepens, but his expression softens from his hardened edge.

“Oh. Well…that’s all he needed to say,” he sniffs. He hands what would’ve been Alec’s load of packages onto Sketchy, who gives him a flat look.

“Go, get to work. Bip, bip!” Normal points a finger at him, then dismissively at the door.

Sketchy rolls his eyes, but he makes sure to send you a “thankful” look before he heads out. You give him a sardonic smile. Serves him right for taking Alec’s side in this whole messy situation, like the man children they both are.

Original Cindy comes to your side and lightly bumps your hip. She’s a strong support as always, and you give her a small smile.

“Come on, boo. I’m buyin’ your drinks at Crash tonight,” she says. You loop your arm through hers.

“Thank God for you, OC,” you breathe, though with a smile that feels a little more like yourself.

“Ladies night, it is,” she snaps playfully.  

And if that’s what tonight is, then you’re going to look good. No ratty jeans and boots meant for walking. After work, you dive into the depths of your closet and find an old favorite of yours: a black leather skirt and a lacey top, open-backed and a sweetheart neckline. You complete the look with a pair of heeled ankle boots and the only shade of red lipstick you own.

You just don’t count on Alec wanting a night out too.

He hangs out at Crash all the time. You can’t be surprised, you remind yourself, when you spot him at the bar. Except he doesn’t wear his usual suave confidence. No, he’s hunched over a glass of whiskey as he sits alone in front of the bartender. He doesn’t even notice you, Max, and Cindy as you guys claim your usual table in the back.

You can’t help it though. Your eyes keep drifting back to him.

Both Max and Cindy catch you, with something like sympathy on the latter’s face.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Cindy remarks. “Anguished, and all Heathcliff-like.”

She’s right, you think. He’s been like this for days.

Max seems to know him better than anyone. You turn to her in askance.

“This isn’t just because of…what happened, is it?” you say.

Max sighs and shakes her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

But she’s either unable, or unwilling to give you any more to go on.

…Goddamn it, you think, as you contemplate doing something stupid, like going over there to talk to him. You know you shouldn’t give him the time of day, but God help you, you still care about this asshole.

You heave a sigh. “I’ll be back in a few. And if not, I give you full permission to haul my ass out of this bar.”

“Don’t do it,” Cindy advises, with the tone of someone who knows you’re not going to listen.

You get up from the table and give your friends a placating hand. You roll your shoulders and force your feet to move—towards the bar.

The seat to Alec’s left is empty, and you take it. His gaze slides toward you, and he’s forced to do a double take. His familiar once-over has you almost smirking, but even that is missing something. It’s like something sucked the life right out of him.

He gives you a haphazard smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me,” he says.

“How many of those are you going to drink?” you ask, gesturing at the third glass of whiskey in his hand. He glances down at it, then at nothing as his gaze travels away from you.

“Until I can’t feel the burn anymore,” he replies. Even his voice isn’t like him, dull and wry.

You hesitate, but you surprise even yourself by offering an olive branch.

“Look, if you want to talk about what happened…or anything else—” you try, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally looking at you again. “I should’ve made it clear from the beginning that I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”

Your heart plummets. Your mouth works past shock and fresh hurt. You fight the sting in your eyes as your mouth flattens.

“So, you and I were just casual,” you confirm. “None of it meant anything to you?”

He looks over at you and pins you there. There’s a glimmer of something behind the cool green of his eyes. Like maybe part of him wants to rebel and give you hope. 

He stays quiet. 

So with tears in your eyes, you close out your tab, and you leave the bar to go home. You can’t even bring yourself to look over at your friends. You’re too embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Alec focuses on the contents of his glass, even though he knows nothing will ever be enough to numb him. 

Now that Manticore’s psychological reprogramming has crumbled, now that he remembers what happened two years ago—and what he did—nothing will make his fractured, bloody insides feel like nothing ever again.

Max and Original Cindy see the entire scene play out from across the bar. Cindy shakes her head with a hum of disappointment that black women have perfected.

Max’s answer is to get up, with much the same reluctance as you had, albeit for different reasons.

“I know I’m gonna regret this,” she sighs.

“Take your time,” Cindy says. She already has her flirtatious eye on another woman by the pool table.

Max smiles in amusement and leaves her friend to her business. She goes to her fellow transgenic and slips into the same seat you occupied moments before. Alec barely looks up at her.

“Call me crazy but I get the feeling you’re in some kind of jam,” she says. “More than just about your messy ex situation, though that was a nice cold shoulder you gave her.”

“Okay, you’re crazy,” he replies, raising his glass back to his lips.

Max presses her luck, asking about the locket Alec has always kept. At Manticore, he’d kept it in his shoe. He’d pull it out at night and try to remember why it was important, but he never could. All he knew was that it made him feel better, and he’d go to sleep easier.

Max saw it on him days ago. And now they both know it had belonged to Rachel Barrister, daughter of Robert Barrister. The man Alec was once sent to kill.

He’d both failed and succeeded.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Max,” Alec says snidely. “Stay out of my business.”

“Fine,” she says, but part of her still worries about him. And she worries about you. “Look, I know we don’t always get along—”

“Nicely understated,” he cuts, and sets down his glass a bit too hard on the counter. The bottom of it fractures. “Barkeep!”

“But if you’re in some kind of trouble and you need my help, then you should ask now, and not when it’s too late and everything’s all messed up, like you usually do,” she says.

“Well, I appreciate the offer, Max. I really do,” he says dryly, “but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You know, I would, see, but…you wouldn’t understand,” Alec says. He points out that Max and the rest of her little X5 friends left Manticore (escaped) when they were kids. The truth is, she has no idea what he’s endured ever since.

Manticore cracked down on the next series of X5s like him, and every series afterwards—they all paid the price for what Manticore saw as the failure of Max’s unit. Lax training. Traitors. Deserters. 

Alec didn’t see it at the time, not completely. He now knows just how deeply fucked up he was.

And is.

There’s no fixing it, like there’s no use trying to fix a broken toy.

So Max eventually walks away from him, just like you did. Just like he should have done for Rachel.

He knows he hurt you, but he also thinks it’s working out better this way. Better that you walk away from him, before he gets you hurt even worse.

It happens in stages, the way Alec’s memory unlocks. 

It sorts through the psychological methods of torture and erasure Manticore used to try and scrape the Barrister assignment from his mind. Not only did it not work, but Manticore still won. No matter what he does, he can’t block out the pain or the rush of memories. He can’t not feel. 

It’s a frustrating state of being for a soldier. 

Alec’s laissez faire way of coasting through life after Manticore burned down was his version of stoicism, of surviving. 

But if this is living, then he doesn’t want it. 

That’s why he loses focus. He runs headlong into the trap his rational mind is warning him of—into that mansion, where Robert Barrister has led him with the torturous siren song of Rachel’s favorite piano sonata. The very same one he taught her, just two years ago.

Alec wants to rip the notes out of his head, but he still goes to the house.

Somehow, a fifty-five-year-old man gets the drop on Alec, a soldier. A transgenic. 

Barrister knows who and what he is. He’s been in the game long enough against Manticore to know who he used to sell his products to, but he can’t quite pull the trigger on that gun, even though Alec goads him on. Shouting at him to do it. End his misery. 

Rachel. 

Max saves his ass again. It’s a frankly embarrassing number she’s racked up on that count, as she stuns Barrister and knocks him out before he can deliver the kill shot directly into Alec’s temporal lobe. 

Alec doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care, until Robert tells him where she is, upstairs in her room. Alec travels down the familiar corridor, and he sees her again. 

Rachel. Oh God…

She’s wrapped up in wires because of him; in a coma, slowly dying for the past two years. She pulled her father from the car that was meant to explode and end his life. Rachel fell. 

Alec sinks down into a chair beside her bed. For a moment all he can do is stare at her pale face.

Because of him. His job. His mission, that he couldn’t complete, because he tried to save her. It was too late, she paid the price, and it was all because of him.

Because he couldn’t fight the training drilled deep into his mind. He couldn’t fight his captors, not hard enough.

She paid the price. 

Alec sits at her bedside for as long as he can. He slips her locket back into her cold hand. He holds her as close as he dares, and begs for forgiveness through near-silent tears. 

“I didn’t understand,” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t understand…how much I loved you.”

Alec attends Rachel’s funeral, a few weeks later. He stands almost a quarter of a mile away, but he can still hear the service. He goes to her grave, and he accepts the caustic words from her father. 

“Never come back here,” Robert hisses. “I wanted to kill you. I hated you that much. But I’m still her father. I want her to be proud of me…and I don’t want to be like you.”

Alec silently accepts this. He knows what he is. Now, he knows what he’s done is unforgivable. 

He also knows it’s time to let her go. 

So he says a silent goodbye before he walks away from the grave and the cemetery. He intends to go home… 

He doesn’t quite make it there.

Alec is forced to walk through a torrent of rain. He barely feels it beating down on his head, back, and shoulders. 

Somehow, he ends up dripping wet at your apartment. His tall frame takes up your doorway when you open it to him. 

This feels familiar, you think, as you take him in. Once again, you’re dressed in just your pajamas of choice: a loose shirt over a pair of shorts. Your hair is tossed into a bun. 

You aren’t sure if it’s rain or tears dripping down his wet cheeks. His eyes are red enough to convince you of the latter. 

“What’re you—”

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is a hint unsteady.

Your mouth falls open the slightest bit, but eventually, you sigh.

“Alec,” is all you can say. Go away, are words you can’t force past your lips, even if you have every right to say them.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I uh…I don’t know why I’m here.”

“You don’t know?” you repeat, your eyes widening incredulously. 

He shakes his head, but he aims to leave. This was a mistake, he thinks.

You don’t know what to make of him right now. Hasn’t he hurt you enough?

He seems different though. He looks like he’s one step shy of falling apart, and you’ve never seen such rawness in his eyes.

Something inside you breaks, and you grab his wet hand before he can escape down the hall. You’re persistent in leading him inside your apartment, where it’s warm. You offer him some dry clothes he left behind last month.

After he gets changed, he sits on your couch with you. His silence is so confusing, you’re not sure what to do. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Me,” he says, chuckling humorlessly. “I’m what’s wrong. I uh…I should go.”

He gets to his feet, all twitching nervous energy, and again he tries to leave. You feel compelled to stand with him and follow him to the door.

“Wait,” you say, holding the door closed. Your hand lands on his arm, imploring with everything you have. “Alec, just tell me what the hell is going on. You’re scaring me.”

His eyes drag up your body, and slowly meet yours.

I didn’t understand…

Alec can’t help it; he raises a gentle hand to touch your cheek. You don’t deserve someone like him wrecking your life. He can’t be fixed, and he doesn’t want to break you too. 

You hold his hand to your face. “Alec. Talk to me, please.”

In your face, he finds concern and the threat of tears, and his heart continues to hemorrhage. 

There’s still room for you there. You’ve carved out a place in what’s left of it, without him realizing. He’s getting better at seeing the warning signs. 

You let out a shaky breath. “Just tell me the truth. Are you in trouble? Are you here because you have nowhere else to go, or—”

“Honestly, yeah,” he finally admits.

You deflate in response. What the hell?! 

Now you’re just about ready to push him out of your apartment and warn him that he better not come back. His grip on your arms stops you.

“This is the only place…” he continues, his jaw working. “Can’t seem to move my feet anywhere else.”

He means what he says, even if it’s not coming out right. After seeing Rachel’s prone body in her bed, coming back to face you is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. And yet, there's nowhere else he could go that felt right. He meets your eyes and notices the way you’re holding your breath.

“Uh, I kinda lied to you before,” he confesses. Your brows raise at that. 

“When?” you challenge.

He licks his dry lips. “At the bar. Last time we met.”

“So when you said,” you struggle to articulate it, because just the thought of it still hurts. “What you and I had…that it didn’t mean anything…”

His hands slide down from your arms, to hold your hands in his.

“I was an idiot. I didn’t know what it meant,” Alec says. “I do now.”

Your eyes flood with tears as you let go of a heavy breath. Alec releases your hands to hold your face with shaking hands. In turn, you hold his wrists steady. 

"You really hurt me, you know," you say. Your voice is a near whisper, but your words cut into him all the same.

"I know," he replies, as his thumbs caress your skin. "I'm sorry about that. About everything...which is why we probably shouldn't do this."

He really says that, even as his hands drift down to your neck, where he can feel your pulse beating and picking up speed. Alive.

“What?” you ask, with genuine confusion. You pull away from him a little, frowning up at him. "Then what are we doing right now? Either you want to be with me, or you don't, Alec."

His eyes meet yours.

You’re so real, so honest. Alec starts to think, to understand that this is what lured him in. It had him coming back to you every time you turned him down. It kept him coming back to you when you were his. 

She can still be yours, he thinks. It’s a selfish thought, but here he is.   

So he draws you in and kisses you deeply.

He doesn’t know how this can still feel right, even though his chest pulses with pain. But maybe, being with you is a different kind of pain. Maybe it’s not pain at all. 

You asked him for the truth though. He can’t give you everything, but he can give you one piece of the puzzle; perhaps the only one that matters. He parts from you, opening his eyes to find your face. Your eyes are still closed, and when you open them, you start to blush. 

It almost makes him smile, but his brain is still warring with his heart.

“I’ve only ever cared about one person in my life…and I lost her,” he says. “I’m not good at this.”

“How,” you ask, a bit hesitantly. “How did you lose her?”

His throat is tight. It’s all so fresh, he doesn’t even know how he gets out the words.

“She died,” he admits.

Your expression falls, and you shake your head.

“I’m sorry,” you reply, holding onto his shirt. “I’ve lost people too.”

He thumbs at your cheek. He sees your sympathy so clearly across your face, though he doesn’t know how you can still give that to him. It goes against everything he’s ever been taught, and everything he’s learned in order to survive. 

He can’t help but let you back in, just like you’re about to do for him.  

“It’s really this simple. If you want me to forgive you, if you really want to be here, with me, exclusively…then all you have to do is stay,” you say at last. Your lips press together for a moment. “But if you play me again, Alec, I swear to God—”

“No. No swearing’s necessary,” he says, and kisses you again. He’s surprised he’s able to smile, just a little, and he does so against your lips. 

You break from him to grip his shirt and glare up at him. “You understand me?”

Alec’s smile deepens a fraction. He brushes your hair away from your face. 

“Indeed, I do, Miss Ma’am.”

It takes you a beat, but you roll your eyes, despite a lingering blush.

“Ugh, don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” he starts to tease. “You seem to like giving out orders, I just thought you’d like a title change to go with it.”

You slap his chest half-heartedly. “Shut up.” 

“See? More demands,” he quips. “I don’t know if I can work in this environment—”

You pull him down for a kiss to shut him up indefinitely. 

And like it so often has, it leads into your room with the two of you falling haphazardly into your bed. He situates himself between your legs and traps you underneath him as he kisses a wet path up your neck. You arch against him and your hands dive under his shirt to help him wrench it off. 

It’s all very fast, and a bit frantic until he has you naked underneath him. 

His hand finds your cheek, touching softly, like he’s afraid to break you. There’s pain in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Your brows furrow, though you caress a hand up the back his neck. He shudders when you unintentionally brush his barcode. 

“Alec, what happened?” you ask.

He shakes his head. He wishes he could tell you. He wants to tell you…everything. It scares him, because he also wants to run out of here, putting as much distance between himself and you as possible. 

But again, he’s selfish. This time, he understands why his heart is pulsing with both pain and longing when he stares into your eyes for too long.

“I can’t,” he says. “Not tonight… Can we just focus on the good part here?”

Despite yourself, you smile with a small huff. You take his face in your hands and bring him down to meet your searing kiss. 

The good part, indeed.

AN: And here's an angsty Part 2! lol Let me know what you think! 💜

You might want to buckle up for where we're going next...

Next Time:

He takes one corner of your towel and peels it off you slowly, until your body is bare for his gaze. His eyes take in every inch of you before they make it back to your face.

He smiles, taking down the messy bun from your head to have your hair fanning wildly across his pillows. Your hands move across his chest and further down, but he puts a stop to your exploration. He grasps your wrists and pins them down to the bed with a strength you can’t escape.

You raise your brows. “Alec?”

“Trust me,” he says, dipping down to kiss your neck. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

You suck in a breath. Far be it from you to argue with that.

“Is this one of those sexual favors?” you tease. He laughs against your skin.

“You’re about to find out.”

Keep Reading: Part 3

Series Masterlist

Alec McDowell Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Alec M. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989

@waters-2567 @iwishiwas-sleeping @jessjad @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @honeybabycherry @deans-spinster-witch @angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378 @nancymcl @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions

#The Only Place #Being Human #Part 2 #alec mcdowell #alec mcdowell x reader #alec mcdowell x you #alec mcdowell x female reader #smuttish #max guevara #original cindy #DA 2.11 #the barrisford agenda #Dark Angel #Jensen Ackles characters #Jensen Ackles #zepskies writes

[vrncaes]

Ok but seriously dark content hmm, like i said fucking cocolia in front of bronya. She doesn’t want it, she resists you. Its so shameful and abhorring. Thats her kid tied in front of you when you fuck her deep and slow, showing off the way her cunt swallows you up.

But then again she loves that dick. It feels so good. If its so wrong then why does she squeeze around your cock everytime you whisper dirty nothings and flick her clit in front of crying bronya.

And bronya on the other hand is seeping wet. Scared and confused and possibly traumatized but she is so fucking jealous of her mother. She wants to be in that position. Wants to take that huge dick deep in her cunt.

Anyways DO NOT BE HORNY KEIN! ☹️☹️

mahgawd ash, just the mention of cocolia and bronya alone is enough to make me horny you bi-

cw : implied dub-con , forced voyeurism , gags , bondage (tied to a chair) , creampie

nsfw under the cut!

ok, so.

just having a tied up bronya in front of you and cocolia. the supreme guardian thinks it's so wrong, to be fucked in front of her kid. she's supposed to be a role model for her since she is a mother after all. but why was she here, getting pounded away by your cock while her fucking daughter watches?

it honestly turns you on when you see bronya's wide eyes, fat globs of tears running down her cheeks while she observed the way her mother is getting railed like a prostitute. she doesn't know why, seriously, why whenever you thrust into her, she'd become more embarrassingly wet, and a bit envious. even if she wants to deny, she deeply wished that she was in her mom's position, taking your huge dick in her tight cunt.

cocolia in the while, can only scream and scratch at your back while she looks at bronya with tears in her eyes, mumbling apologies in her direction. "b-bronya, 'm sorry baby, 'm s-" and that's when you'll get her screaming and completely more fucked out, by the time you’re cumming balls deep into her.

“take it, guardian.”

just feeling your tip nudge against her cervix has her eyes rolling back, and having it stay there while you spurt your seed into her is not helping her to stay still.

bronya lets out a muffled scream when she sees you cum into her mom, her pupils dilating in horror as she proceeds to struggle against her confines. if only she had no gag on her now, she’d scream and yell at you, cussing you for making her watch her mom be used. but even so, she knows you’d find a way or two to at least shut her up. and she knows that you won’t be using some stupid fabric. <3

#vrncaes #kein’s drabbles. #kein’s thirsts. #dom reader #sub hsr #sub cocolia rand #sub bronya rand #bronya rand x reader #cocolia rand x reader #i swear these rands need to be put in their place #im obsessed and it’s not healthy #kein’s dark thoughts.

[lilacevans]

𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ paring: dark!steve rogers x female!reader. (non-descriptive) ✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 157. ✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: bondage, sweet steve losing his mind a little. ✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: @sgtnightwolfinthetardis ✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: enjoy, my honeyssss. i hope u enjoy this little glimpse into stevie turning a little like the rest of his familyyyy. 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ༊*·˚

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

You whined around the double layer of rope between your teeth, the corners of your mouth tearing at the seams as Steve stroked a hand down the intricate patterns of the taut pink rope bound around your body.

Your skin jumped as he’d occasionally flicked the rope against your skin. Scratchy fibres pricked your skin with every attempt to move in a feeble attempt to find comfort in the wooden chair.

Your thighs flexed over the wooden arms digging painfully into your legs, the creaking of the wood filling the deafening silence between Steve’s long, deep breaths. Steve’s fingertips sent waves of shivers through your body as he painstakingly knelt down between your parted legs, his head dropping against your stomach as he let out a ragged sigh, seemingly battling with something deep within.

“Why did you have to run?” Steve questioned softly against the skin of your belly, before looking up with those deep-ocean eyes, glossy and haunted. “I didn’t wanna do this, angel…”

“Yes you did,” your minds spoke in unison.

#chris evans #cevans #dark!chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve x female reader #dark!steve rogers #dark verse #dark au #lila writes #lila's drabbles #pete's place #pete's place: the drabbles