Here is a quick navigation to all my stories if you so wish to read them.Â
I mostly write dark/explicit fics but I do have some lighter stuff in there.
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Game of Thrones
Jorah Mormont
MARVEL
Vision
Loki
Thor
Bucky Barnes
Steve Rogers
Tony Stark
Other MCU Characters
Good for Us (Bruce Banner x F!Reader)
Orange Juice and Kisses (Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff)
No Loose Ends (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader)
Sebastian Stan Characters
No One Special (Dark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader)
â You were never special to Lee. To him, you were simply one of them.
The Guardian (SoftDark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader)
â Sheriff Bodecker is always there to save you even when you think he isnât.
Shouldâve (Dark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader)
â You begin to regret leaving your home in the midst of your punishment.
From Blue to Green (Dark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader)
â Your husbandâs jealousy forces you to enter another chapter in your life.
Dead End (Dark!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader)
â You bump into the sheriff during one of your runs.
Tom Hiddleston Characters
Against the Tide (Dark!Biker!James Conrad x F!Reader)
â Your life takes an unexpected turn as the leader of the biker gang that took over your town sets his eyes on you.
Radio Silence (Dark!Jonathan Pine x Agent!F!Reader)
â Your mission to capture Jonathan Pine goes sideways in the most unexpected way.
Pedro Pascal Characters
House Arrest (Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader)
â Your mom goes to attend a work conference for a couple of days, leaving you home alone with her husband.
On the Lookout (Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader)
â The excitement rolling through your veins as a new ranger in Jackson County turns into fear when you realize the true intentions of your partner.
Home Sweet Home (Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader)
â Ellie finds out about your relationship with Joel in the worst way possible.
Thicker than Water (Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader)
â Youâre Tommyâs girl but Joel wants to make you his.
Rebound (Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader)
â Your night of wallowing in your misery takes a different turn when your dadâs best friend bumps into you at the bar.Â
Chris Evans Characters
Within the Shadows
â Secrets are revealed amidst the celebration of your brotherâs ascent to underboss.
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Summary â Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.
Warnings â noncon, car sex, age gap (reader is older than Ransom), Ransom is Mean. There may be more that I forgot so I ask that you read with caution.
A/N â Another TBS writing challenge, with Ransom as our man. I do ask you to be gentle as this is the first time I've written him. This is also a wip I have so this is a sneak peek for y'all.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! â¤ď¸
Grabbing onto the leather seat, you bite down on your tongue to stifle your cries as Ransom roughly fucks you from behind. You thought the timing would be right to tell him of what your daughter said, that dating someone her age would only sully further the family name.
But to even think Ransom would be understanding of your situation, that he would respect your decision was something you never should have expected. Especially now as he takes you shamelessly in his car, parked just outside your daughterâs apartment, rethinking the affection heâs shown for you.Â
âWhat makes you think you can leave me just like that?â He snarls and you gasp as he rams his cock deep into your core. âNo one leaves Ransom Drysdale. Especially not some old woman like you.â His words pierce deep into your heart, making you cry but more so from the brutal pace he sets as he thrusts relentlessly into your cunt.Â
âRansomâ! Stop!â You beg, but he refuses to listen. Anger rises in you that you try to push back but he simply pushes a hand against your head, burying it against the leather seat of his car. âI hateââ But the words never leave your lips as he grabs you by your neck and yanks you back, making you face him.Â
âGo no. Tell me you hate me and see what that does to me.â He threatens before giving you a sinister smile and claiming your lips with a sloppy kiss.
Summary â You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make him say yes.
Warnings â implied noncon/dubcon, coercion, power imbalance. There may be more that I forgot to mention but please read with caution.
A/N â Another impromptu fic because the muse was calling for it. Plus, the babies were wanting and who am I to say no and not deliver. Un-beta and no editing has been done so may be sloppy. But we all love some slop anyway haha!
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! â¤ď¸
The bored look on Peteâs face has you feeling even more nervous since you walked into his company. You never should have agreed to take on this project, you should have just stayed quiet and allowed Janice to take it. But noâyou had to be proactive, you had to shove it in her face that you are just as good as a sales rep as her, maybe even better. Yet now, as you continue on with your spiel, the presentation youâve worked so hard on only looks to be going down the drain.Â
âNext slide.â Pete says, making you stutter in surprise but simply doing as youâre told and leaning down on your laptop to tap the key. The audible groan that emits from him has you edge as you do.
âOur product not only surpasses the ones like it but itâs tested and proven to do more.â You say with the remaining enthusiasm left in your system. âIf you can see from the studies weâve conducted, Janââ
âYawn.â Pete utters while actually doing so, leaning against the seat and resting his elbow atop the table, his cheek leaning on his fist. âIs there any version of this where we end up fucking?â
That stops you. Your brows furrowed in confusion with the words that just rolled out of his mouth.Â
âExcuse me?â You say, disgust and shock curling in your voice.
He chuckles and stands from his seat, exaggeratingly stretching his arms before walking over to you at the end of the long table, fingers grazing over the wooden surface.
âYou heard me. That presentation of yours? Iâve seen so many just like it from so many people who, just like you, are desperate for me to say yes.â You hear your heart beat frantically against your chest as he comes closer, your feet taking a step back but no more further as youâre suddenly frozen in place.Â
âBut just like them, Iâm going to say no. You know why?âÂ
You donât know if heâs asking a serious question or simply playing with you, trying to intimidate you with the unknown power he holds over your head.Â
You donât respond.
âLet me tell you why. Because itâs boring.â His words are like a vice to your chest. âIâm sure youâve spent all night perfecting this powerpoint and practicing that speech, but, it just ainât selling. Nothing about it interests me. Nothing about it makes me want to throw my money at it. And nothing about it makes me say âWow!ââ
His large hands trace the edge of your laptop before shutting it close, the room going dim, except for the light coming from the projector as your presentation vanishes.
âNothing about them draws me in. Except youââ The way he says it makes your skin crawl and you take another step back when you see his eyes run up and down your figure, trapping his tongue between his teeth in the process. âThereâs a fire in you. Like you would do anything to prove yourself.â He teases. Stopping just in front of you and framing his hip with his hand, in a way that has you seeing the bulge that has formed in his pants, while his other hand taps against the table, waiting, anticipating your next move.Â
âSo either, you walk out of this room with nothingâa loser like the rest of those chumps waiting outside to talk to me, or you go back to your boss with a big fat sale you can rub onto the one you took this project from.âÂ
Your hand visibly shakes with the tension thatâs swirling around you. Is this what you want? To allow this man to order you around and do as he pleases for the sake of your career? What face would you show Daniel if he says no? Pete is one of the biggest clients heâs been chasing and youâve been stupid enough to try and show off.Â
Letting out a quivering sigh, you bite your lip and place your notes to the side, looking up at Peteâs face before clenching your fists and looking down at your feet.Â
âA thousand pieces.â You argue. If youâre losing your dignity, you may as well get something bigger out of it.Â
âYou bend over this table and show me that ass and Iâll think about giving you seven hundred.â He bargains, a playful smirk forming on his lipsâa sign of his victory and your defeat.Â
Itâs less yet still more than your initial ask.Â
Nodding and once more releasing a breath, you lift up your pencil skirt to reveal your backside and lean against the table just like heâs asked. You bite your tongue to stop the yelp that wants to push from your lips when he slaps your ass and whimper in fear and hatred for this man when he grabs you by the waist and presses his clothed erection against you.Â
âMake it worth my while, Sweetheart. My time ainât cheap.â
âThereâs our superstar!â Daniel says in oblivious excitement when you walk back into your department, Janice and the rest of your co-workers looking at you with expectation in their eyes. âWell?â Daniel prompts. âHow many did he get?â
âFifteen hundred with a possible order next month.â You say in resignation and present him the order slip signed by Pete with a note requesting for another meeting next week. Shock fills his eyes as he stares down at the paper before he punches the air in obvious celebration.
âNo fucking way!â Janice says in disbelief, yet the others surround you, bidding their congratulations.Â
âWhat did you tell him?â One of your co-workers asks.
âWhat did you do?â Another.
âShe did her fucking best, thatâs what.â Daniel says in excitement before hugging you tight. âI never doubted you one second, champ. Iâm glad I gave you this account.â
Summary â Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.
Warnings â oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.
Word Count â 5.4K
A/N â Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.
Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp
Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! â¤ď¸
They didnât come.
It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parentsâ â mostly your momâs â disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.
But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you triedâŚright?
You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.
Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. Youâre reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as itâs obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when youâre pushed at the back, towered by your classmatesâunseen once more.Â
As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You canât put a pin on his face but you know youâve seen him before.Â
Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. Itâs when you finally recognize himâand youâre in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand.Â
âHi.â He begins, âIâmââ
âYouâre Steve Kemp.â You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. âYouâre the famous art collector.â You wouldnât have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but youâve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldnât miss it.
âI wouldnât say Iâm famous.â He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. âI think Iâm just skilled in finding pretty thingsâlike this one.â He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. âWhat compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? Whatâs the story behind it?â
His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer.Â
âThe artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.â You begin. âJust to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, itâs the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that itâs not a whale but an entirely different animal.
âLoneliness was the main theme of the pieceâjust like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedomâthat one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.â
You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence.Â
But the look on his face startles you; thereâs no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think heâs about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it.Â
âHow much?â The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?
âIâm sorry?âÂ
âI want to buy your art piece.â He expounds. âHow much are you selling it for?â
Thatâs the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that youâre not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.
âI donâtââ You stutter. âIâm not reallyââ
The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that heâs making fun of your state of shock. âI didnât mean to startle you.â He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. âBut I am serious. I do want to buy it.â
Still, you donât know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?
âWhy donât you sit on it? Letâs say two days and I can give you a call for your price.â He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. âWhat do you say?â
Under-dressed.
Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coatâthatâs fancy enough, right?
You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your âLonely Whaleâ piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him.Â
The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldnât have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldnât need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait.Â
âNeed a top-up?â A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. âIâm sorry Iâm late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.â He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth.Â
You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didnât take the one across from you. âPlease, donât be sorry. I wasnât waiting long.â You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. âThe drink kept me company.â
âAre they any good?â He asks but heâs already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Maryâquite peculiar, you think, but youâre not one to judge someone's preference. âAnd the lady will have another, please.âÂ
Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. Youâre not used to being seen yet hereâs this man, well-known in the field you didnât think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention.Â
âUhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,â you begin as you try to break the ice, âand he said thatââ but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh.Â
You think heâs playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up.Â
âWe can talk business later. Iâd like to get to know the artist more first.â He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips.Â
âWell, what do you want to know?â
Giggling.Â
Itâs been a while since youâve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are.Â
The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. Heâs probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other.Â
The night rolls by quicker than youâd hoped and the next thing you know youâre in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. Youâve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought youâd find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project?Â
You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you donât recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out.Â
He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you donât know if itâs the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you.Â
âI had a lovely evening.â He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. âAnd I donât want it to end just yet.â
And it doesnât.Â
You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. Youâre too stunned to process that heâs kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue.Â
You think heâs about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You donât understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss.Â
He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss.Â
To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head.Â
But he doesnât give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steveâs hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them.Â
Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further.Â
But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at youâhis eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste.Â
Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But youâve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely.Â
âYouâre so beautiful,â He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core.Â
Itâs only then you comprehend what heâs done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue.Â
You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit.Â
The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside.Â
Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouragingânoâpushing him to pull you over the edge.Â
âSteveââ Itâs all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat.Â
His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.
Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss.Â
The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as youâre ready to end the night with such a good note.Â
But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. âStay awake, Baby.â He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. âIâm not yet done with you.â
Nervous.
Itâs all you feel as you stand outside of Steveâs homeâif you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, youâd think youâre about to enter a museum. But itâs only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all.Â
âYou okay?â You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.
âA bitâbut more excited really.â You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier.Â
âOnly the people who matter have seen it.â The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.
After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentivenessâone that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship.Â
You donât even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each otherâs company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, youâd have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.
A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a womanâs pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that youâd think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.
It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it isâwomenâs body partsâbut you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.
What greets you next are several paintingsâif you can even call it as suchâthat litter the wall just the same, though youâve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. Youâre in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. Thereâs even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather.Â
Thereâs another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest youâve seen.
Thereâs another like it, though this one seemed more like a collage of all types of tresses. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if theyâre real or not.
âTheyâre real,â Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. âI call it live art.â
âYou made this?â
âOh, no.â He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steveâs hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. âI had it made. Though I did provide the materialsâvolunteers donated the hair.â His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. âIâm hoping to add more to the collectionâa prized one that can be my center of attention.â He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery.Â
âWhat kind of prized piece?â You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head.Â
âSomething I could never get tired of looking at.â The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. âLike you.â He whispers and you canât help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel.Â
âCome on. Thereâs more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.â He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you donât miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndrosâ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head.Â
The living room is a sunken living room and itâs just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room.Â
âWhatâs that?â You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture.Â
âThatâs just a chair a friend of mine made.â He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. âItâs pretty cozy even if itâs made out of stone. Why donât you try it out? Pretend youâre an art piece.â He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him.Â
Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steveâs face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face.Â
âYou look perfect on it.â He sips on his drink and so do you.Â
You canât help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck.Â
âDance with me.âÂ
Itâs all he says and you donât have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.
It feels like youâre walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. Youâre suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times heâs slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.
âDonât hide from me, Baby,â He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. âI want to see you.â
Giddy.
Itâs the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head.Â
You couldnât believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone youâve barely known for a week.Â
Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. Youâre going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stopâwell, youâll cross the bridge when you get there.Â
You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but itâs interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.
Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his roomâback to Steveâs arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You donât want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore.Â
Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier.Â
A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.
Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body partsâarms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.
You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your hostâa monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you.Â
Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is goâcall the authorities andâyour thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.
âWhere were you, Baby?â Steveâs calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but heâs too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. Heâs caught you. Youâre going to die.Â
âYou never should have seen that.â He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins.Â
Itâs then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark.Â
Youâre dead.
Itâs the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room youâre in is somewhere youâve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that heâs successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.
A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. Youâre crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from withinâis it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him.Â
âI never wanted you to find out this way.â He sighs. âI never wanted you to find out at all.â
âAre you going to kill me?â You canât help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.
âNot yet.â His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. âDespite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter toââ
âStop lying to me!â You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. âWhy are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!â You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him.Â
He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.
âThe more you fight, the harder itâll be.â He snips. âI enjoy you a lotâdonât make me kill you so soon.â
âJust fucking do it!â You spit. âDo it! Kill me now!â
The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times heâs stared at you, youâve never seen it before.Â
âSoon.â He promises. âFor now, Iâll keep you. I donât mind that column being empty just a little longer.â
A/N â Simply a quick drabble I came up with while talking to some buddies. I don't think it's dark but just proceed with caution to be safe.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! â¤ď¸
Youâre wrists are bound by a rope which is tied to a singular metal ring on the ground. Your ankles, separated by a spreader bar and Lloyd, you can't see him, but you know he's sitting just behind you, his breathing heavy as heâs just finished filling you up with his seed.
Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, a mixture of your shameless desire and his eager arousal. Youâre breathing just as heavily as he is and your muscles ache, deliciously at first but each minute, second that passes shifts into pain. Youâve been in this position long enough, it should be over now...right?
âDonât think weâre through, Sunshine.â He says in a low and guttural voice, as if he heard your unspoken question. You then hear him stand, his bare feet padding against the floor. Your skin then sings in pain when a hand sharply meets your ass, a whimper leaving your lips from the painâŚor is it pleasure? âWeâre just getting started.â
Hard and callous hands grip on your sides, pushing your ass further into the air and pressing your face more onto the ground. And in one swift move, heâs in you again, ramming once, twice, thrice, over and over until all you hear and feel is himâthat everything about you dissipates and it's only Lloyd who matters.
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Summary â The truth about Lloyd's change breaks you in more ways than one.
Warnings â implied n0nc0n, violence, Lloyd being very mean, and some other dark themes.
A/N â Still on my break from this site but I thought I'd give you guys this one tonight. Unbeta so may be sloppy.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! â¤ď¸
Itâs been days since Lloyd came home, days since he almost killed you.
Since returning from his work trip, your relationship with Lloyd has changed drastically. No longer does he look at you with love in his eyes, instead, his stares are intimidating, and menacing, making you walk on eggshells around him for fear that if you make a wrong move he would once again try to attack you.Â
And his touches, gone are times he would hold you as if you were a delicate flower. Now, he paws at you greedily and when you would object, he would get rough, leaving bruises on your skin with the harsh way he would grab you. Â
You donât understand why heâs acting this way, why heâs treating you as nothing more but a toy to play with. At nights, after heâs finished taking you, youâd rack your brain trying to think of reasons he would suddenly make you feel as if you meant nothing to him.Â
Youâve never cheated on him, never lied to him, he knew all your secrets despite you knowing so little about him. You trusted him with your life and most of all, loved him with all your heart. You thought he felt the same, he showed you he didâmade you feel like he did, but now, you donât know.Â
So you made your decision and packed your bags, a letter left on the side of his bed. Heâs not the Lloyd you fell in love with, youâre not even sure if he would ever come back but one thing youâre certain of is that this is not the life you envision yourself having, not the life you wish to die in.Â
Itâs already midnight and he still hasnât come back from when he left that morning, a sign you take as a relief but also one that breaks your heart. Grabbing your bag, you tiptoe down the hall, still cautious not to make a sound; the living room is still dark after youâve cleaned up the house.Â
You double-check your phone, rereading Rileyâs last message. Sheâs still at your old apartment and your old bedroom still vacant. Sheâs more than happy to have you back and without you even realizing it, you missed her terribly. Maybe she could help you understand why Lloyd has been acting in such a way, maybe she can help you move on.Â
Slowly, you make your way to the front door, ready to say goodbye to the life youâve learned to love but before you could even take hold of the knob, a lamp flickers on and you stand in shock to see Lloyd sitting on the armchair, a bloody gash decorating his cheek and his hair disheveled.Â
Your first instinct is to go to him, to ask what happened but you stop when he asks, âJust where do you think youâre going?â Thereâs ice in his voice, anger boiling deep within, and immediately, the concern you felt earlier recoils and is now replaced with fear.
You take a step back when he stands from his seat, your hand slackening and dropping your bag with a thud on the marble floor. You try to speak, to tell him that youâre done enduring the pain he continues to bring you but you donât get the chance when he lunges at you, his hand grabbing your arms and pinning you against the door, the back of your head hitting the wooden surface.Â
âYou think you can leave me?â He snarls, eyes dark and unloving. âAs soon as you step out that door, you have nothing. Nothing but me.âÂ
âIâd rather have nothing than be with you!â You shout, eyes brimming with tears as you struggle against his hold.
But his reaction takes you off guard, the rage in his eyes dwindling down and his lips twitching to a frown. His hold on you softens, completely releasing you but keeping his hands pressed against the door.Â
âWhat?â He asks, voice soft and uncertain. âYouâd rather not have me?â
âIâm just confused, Lloyd!â You cry, covering your face with your hands as you do. âSince you came back, it feels like you changed. You keep hurting me and you always look at me like Iâve done something wrong.â You sniff, unable to compose yourself any longer with how your emotions continue spilling out of you. âAs much as it hurts me to leave you, I cannot take this anymore! Youâre not the man I fell in love with.âÂ
You did it. You let your heart out and you only pray that Lloyd would truly release you from your misery. But his hands move and press gently against your face, thumbs wiping away the tears that spill non-stop. He frowns and breathes out heavily before wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight against him.Â
The confusion takes you back but it dies out almost instantly. You clutch him tight and sob against his shirt, keeping him close as your heart blooms upon feeling that gentle touch once more.Â
âLittle DollâIâm so sorry.â He mutters against your hair, his hand caressing your back and then cradling the back of your head.Â
âI thought you didnât love me anymore.â You mumble against his shoulder, breathing in his scent.Â
But the peace that cocoons you is disrupted by a laugh, sickening and taunting, and you pull away only to look up at Lloyd who gives you a playful smirk, wincing when the hand around the back of your neck tightens.Â
âWhat made you think I did?â
âWhaââ Youâre once again pushed against the door, harder this time and the fear only floods back tenfold when you see the devilish smile on his face. âLloydâI donât understand.â
âOh come on.â He groans. âDid you really think someone would fall in love with you?â He looks you up and down, disgust etched on his face. âYouâre holes are the only thing good about youâmaybe your cooking too but that's it. I never loved you. I was bored so I played the role of the perfect boyfriend to see if I can fool some floozy and it worked.â He laughs once more but you canât hear it against the deafening shatter of your heart.Â
He fooled you. He used you. And you were stupid enough to fall for it.Â
âBut I got bored of that too and now, Iâm back to doing things how it should be.â He snickers and gives your head a pet, moving your face away when he tries to place a kiss on your forehead.Â
You feel nothing but anger and pain, your vein seering in rage as you stare up at the man who you once thought was the love youâve been searching for. You try to pull away from him, intent on pushing on with your plan of leaving. Yet such an attempt is fruitless when he slaps you across the face, shocking you once more and you gasp and claw at his arm when he grabs you by the neck, your head getting heavy when he squeezes.Â
âBut Iâm not done with you yetâin fact, I might keep you for a while. Play with you a little longer.â He then gropes your tit through your shirt, giving it a hard squeeze before his hand trails down your stomach and to your dress, lifting the skirt up your waist.
âAnd guess what time it is little doll.â Another gasp is pulled from your throat when he rips the fabric of your skirt, the sound of his zipper filling your ears. âItâs time to play.â
đđđŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ â đ§đ¨đ§đđ¨đ§, đŹđđđĽđ¤đ˘đ§đ , đđđđŤđđ˛đđĽ, đ˘đŚđŠđĽđ˘đđ đ¤đ˘đđ§đđŠđŠđ˘đ§đ , đđđŹđđŚđđ§đ đ°đ˘đđ đŻđ˘đđđŹ. There may be more so please đđŤđ˘đ§đ đ đđĽđđŹđĄđĽđ˘đ đĄđ.
The summer festival is in full swing with laughter from both the young and the old bouncing in the air, mixing along with the screams of excitement coming from the patrons aboard the rollercoasterâthe newest addition to the summer affair. Even several of the local small businesses join in on the rabble, a refreshing sight to see other than the food stalls and game posts that are a staple in the event.
Itâs your third time this year in participating. Selling your baked goods amongst the other veterans and to your surprise, the line is much longer than the last, a craving instilled into your customers for your signature ube and coconut cupcakes. Such a treat has been in your family for years; passed on from your great-grandmother and down the line to you. And it fills your heart with joy to see the faces of your clients when they take that first bite.
Youâre even lucky to have your stall set at the end of the row. Not as crowded as the ones found at the center and with enough space to accommodate the queue thatâs slowly growing.
You grab another container from your cooler and set them neatly into rows in the display case atop your table. Itâs not yet noon and youâre already down to your last two batches, ready to set the next ones. But Wanda is running late and you look at your watch to check the time, grunting in frustration yet keeping up the positive facade.
The little girl standing next in line calls your attention and you give her the brightest smile when you notice her face paint and the blue princess dress she dons. She orders a box of six cupcakes along with a bag of ube crinkles. The cuteness she displays when she counts her change on your table tugs at your heartstrings that you couldnât help but give her a freebie; one of your heart-shaped cookies.
âShould you really be giving out free samples?âÂ
âShould you really be running late?â You quip after waving goodbye to the little girl, turning around and crossing your arms over your chest when you face Wanda who stands with the cooler in her hands.
She gives you an awkward yet apologetic smile and you huff out a breath before pointing at the spot where she should place the plastic container.
âWhat took you so long?â You ask, showing her your obvious annoyance. âYou were just supposed to pick up the cupcakes.â
âWhy donât you try loading that heavy thing in the car by yourself? It wasnât easy.â She gives you a pout before focusing her attention on the next customer.
âI have. Countless times.â
âWell, itâs my first time.â She says while waving goodbye to the woman. âAt least be gentle with me.â
You give her a pat on the back before tugging playfully at the end of her hair. âI am being gentle.â You say with a laugh.Â
Another customer comes by, ordering two boxes this time, and you busy in packing up their purchase while Wanda takes their payment. For the remainder of the morning, thatâs all you both doâentertaining your clientele, packing up orders, and seeing them off with a bright smile on your face. But it soon fades as noon arrives, beads of sweat forming on the nape of your neck and dripping down your shirt as the temperature rises along with the sun.Â
Wanda asks to leave for lunch, asking you if you wanted anything from the neighboring stalls. You think twice about the decision, your appetite being non-existent as exhaustion completely takes over your body. But the aroma is not one you can ignore, the savory and fried wafting heavenly in the stolid heat.Â
Eventually, you cave; asking Wanda to grab you anything to eat but specifically request for a blue lemonade slushie from Ricoâs stand.Â
Once the last of your goods are sold, you put out your âBe Right Backâ sign and drop down onto the folding chair with a heavy sigh. You grab your water bottle from inside one of the coolers and take a large sip, tempted to drench yourself in the cool liquid instead to stave away the heat. The work is tiring, you have to admit, but it definitely pays off.Â
âOh, what time are you opening again?â A woman asks as she steps in front of your stand, eyes perusing the menu written on the small chalkboard. You immediately sit up and look down at your watch to give her the time.Â
âYou can come back at around 1 PM. Weâre just taking a quick lunch break.â You tell her to which she acknowledges with a nod and grabbing one of your shop flyers before walking off.Â
You slouch once again, pressing the cool bottle against your face while you rest. But your respite is once more interrupted when you notice in your periphery another figure standing by your stall.Â
âWeâre just taking a quick break,â you begin to explain. âBut weâll be back at aroundââ but your words die on your lips when you see who your visitor is. âWhat are you doing here?!â You snarl and quickly stand from your seat, hissing when you accidentally hit your knee against the table.
Itâs him! Your stalker!Â
You take a cautious step back, your fight or flight response coming to life.
âBe careful, cupcake.â A grin forms on his lips as he tucks a hand into his pocket. You see your face reflecting from the aviators perched on his eyes, covering them for anyone to see. But you know full well that heâs watching you intently like he shamelessly always does. âYou wouldnât want to hurt yourself.â
âHow many times have I told you to leave me alone, you creep?!â Your voice raises an octave, feeling your heart race from anger and fear.
âI just stopped by to say hi. Is that so bad?â He says while tilting his head to the side, chuckling in amusement. âBesides, I wanted to see how youâre stall is doing.â He runs a finger against the surface of the empty display case then stops at the center, tapping on it with a fingernail, the sound taunting you.Â
âCanât you see weâre sold out?â You openly express your displeasure of his presence, too riled up to even care if anyone is watching your exchange.
âThatâs too badâI would have bought a box for myself.â He hums then a chill runs up your spine when he sends you a smirk. âBut then again, thereâs only one kind of cupcake Iâve been wanting to taste and I believe that one is available.â
Your vision goes red at the vulgar comment he made and you donât think twice about getting close and lifting your hand to finally give him a piece of your mind. But he catches on to you quickly and grabs your wrist, taking the other one when you raise it all the same. He pulls you closer, your face only inches from his, and you groan in as you struggle to pull away from his grasp.Â
âDo you really want to cause a scene here, cupcake?â He slithers. âWhere so many can see how violent you are?â
âLet me go, you fucker!â
âSuch a dirty mouth.â He tuts and moves to pull you further over the table, trapping your arms to your sides when he wraps an arm tightly around you. You move your face away when he reaches up and caresses your face, your eyes widening as he keeps you in place, his thumb rubbing circles on the apple of your cheek. âWeâll have to fix that soon or you can show me just how filthy that mouth of yours can really be.â
The edge of the table digs into your hips when he pulls you closer, inhaling sharply when he presses his nose against your temple and takes a sniff of your hair. The hand on your face moves once more, his thumb pressing against your lips. Quickly, you part your lips wide and try to catch it between your teeth. But heâs fast, pushing you away effortlessly and you stagger back, losing your balance and toppling over the metal chair that hits the back of your thighs.
âTsk tsk. Youâre so clumsy, cupcake.â he laughs.
âIâve got our food!!â Wandaâs excited voice suddenly comes and you turn to face her, immediately running to her side as panic settles in your nerves once again.
âWanda! Quick! Call the cops!â You say in a rush, clutching onto her tight. âHurry!â
âHey! Be careful!â She scolds and pries her arm away from you. âWhat the fuck is wrong with you? You almost had me drop an amazing burrito!âÂ
âHeâsââ You point to where the man once stood and take a step back in shock when you see him gone.
You look around frantically, scanning through the sea of people, and try to spot the light blue button-up shirt you noticed him wearing, even being cautious of any man that had their hair tied up in a bun.
But you donât see him. Like he somehow vanished into thin air. Yet even with his sudden absence, you can still feel his palpable presence. You may not see him but you definitely know heâs watching you, like a predator would its prey, waiting for the right opportunity to attack.
âWhoâs what?â Wanda asks as she sets the containers of food and drinks atop the lid of the cooler. âWhy do you want me to call the cops?â
You look into her eyes, your own wide with fear. âHeâs here, Wanda! Heâ Heâsââ Your chest begins to constrict, feeling the air around you grow thin that you grab onto the neck of your shirt and yank on it hard in order for you to breathe.
He got closer this time. Touched you even. Heâs never done that before in the years of him following you around, only stayed in his lane, and left as soon as you told him off. But now, itâs differentâhe looked more bold and more confident, your apprehension growing bigger and stronger that he would finally do something that would end up with you getting hurt.Â
âWhoa, babe.â Wanda coos as she places both of her hands on your shoulders. âBreathe with me, okay? Slowly.â She instructs and you obey, following her lead as she slowly breathes in and out, keeping your eyes locked in her green ones.
Your anxiety eventually dies down and your chest feels somewhat looser from the exercise. Yet the memory remains at the forefront of your mind, his touch lingering on your skin. She guides you to sit, Wanda kneeling in front of you and you flinch when she places a cold plastic cup between your hands, making you look down at the yellow slush thatâs already starting to melt.
âNow. Tell me what happened.â She prompts. âWhat got you all worked up?â
You swallow thickly, unsure if you should say anything to her at all. As terrifying as the situation is, youâve kept it all to yourself, especially after the local police department turned you away, telling you that they can only do something if threats of physical harm have been made. But you couldnât produce anything, not even a photo nor a name for them to searchâultimately deeming your situation a nuisance.
But the sincerity you see in Wandaâs eyes as you rethinking your decision of bottling it all up again. You may have only known her for a short period but you feel the bond you have forged with her to be strong. If thereâs anyone you can trust, it would be her.
With shaky hands, you set down the now melted slushie on top of the cooler and hold onto her hands tight, Wanda doing just the same with her attention solely on you. Her grip is strong, firm, and you feel the tension coiled around you slowly seep away.Â
Taking a deep breath, you begin. âI have a stalker.â
The information seems to take her off guard, shock evident on her face. But she immediately schools her features and you take the gentle squeeze she gives your hands as a sign to continue.Â
âHeâs been following me for years now but he hasnât done anything drastic.â A lump forms at the base of your throat as youâre transported back to the event earlierâhow he grabbed and touched you, coming closer than you ever expected. âUntil now.â
âWhat do you mean?â She asks. âHave you told the cops?â
âI did, but they refused to look into it further. I provide them any of what they were asking.â
âYou mean to tell me you donât have a picture of this man?âÂ
You shake your head.
âHow come? If what you say is true and heâs been stalking you for a while now, shouldnât you have already grabbed some evidence at this point?â
Her question comes off as accusing, making you think that maybe telling her wasnât such a good idea. Still, you push on and refuse to be blamed for the stranger's inexcusable actions.
âYou donât understand, Wanda. When I see him, or when I know heâs watching me, I panicâI donât think about taking my phone and snapping pictures.â You explain, hoping she would understand your reason. âAll I could think of at that moment is to run away and hide.â Tears begin welling in your eyes and you release her hands, gripping down on your own to try and stop your emotions from boiling over.
âOkayâokay,â Her voice is soft as if sheâs talking to a wounded animal while her hand caresses your arm. âUhh, if you donât mind telling me, what else has he done? Just watching and following?â
âJust?â You ask in disbelief.
âNo, noââ She sighs and shuts her eyes tight as if trying to grasp the right words to say. âWhat I meant was, has he ever tried following you to your place? Like to your door or something? Any break-ins that happened?â
You shake your head.Â
Wanda hums in thought and you startle when a wide smile forms on her lips, her hands taking yours once again.Â
âI think I can help you.â She says with much enthusiasm.
âHuh? How?â
You watch as the blond manâSteve, if you remember his name correctlyâinstalls the security camera by your bedroom window and a couple more in the living room, your kitchen, and by your bedroom door. When Wanda first proposed the idea, you found it a little too intense but after another incident the same night you came home from the festival, you immediately called her up and agreed to her proposal.
He showed up once again, this time, standing in wait at your parking spot. He was still wearing the same outfit as the one you saw him in earlier that dayâa light blue button-up and white tank top hidden underneath. His brown hair was worn in a bun and the facial hair was partially trimmed, another characteristic you took note of as well as the gold chain hanging around his neck.
He looks very much well off, like a respectable business owner of some sort and it joggles your mind, thinking, that if he is what you suspect him to be, as to why heâs posing such a creepy disposition. But then again, one shouldnât judge a book by its cover and for all you know, this could simply be a facade, a character heâs made of himself to throw you off.
He never said or did anything to further add to the tension that was once more building in your veins. He only stood there for a whole minute and while you sat frozen in your driverâs seat. You could never forget the smirk he had on his face then, as if he was taunting you, challenging you to get out of your car. But he soon waved his hand, amusement heavy on his face before walking away.Â
You waited a little bit more before getting out of your car, even leaving the empty coolers in your trunk as you ran in haste towards the elevator, afraid that he would show up once more. But itâs only when you got into your apartment and latched all the locks in place that you realized you forgot to take his picture to give to the authorities. Another missed opportunity, another loss on your part, and victory on his.Â
Thatâs when you called Wanda and told her of what happened, agreeing in an instant to her proposal for security.Â
The sound of the electric drill fills the silence of your apartment. As the last screw is set in its place, with Steve admiring his handiwork and then tucking away his tools, you slowly feel the sense of relief drape over you.Â
You turn to face Wanda, wanting to thank her for the effort sheâs putting into keeping you safe. But the look on her face has you reeling back, noticing how her eyes are focused intently on the main camera that faces your bedroom.
âWanda?â She blinks and looks at you when you call her name. âYou feeling okay?â
âYeahâwhy?â
âNothing.â You shrug and walk towards her, giving her arm a gentle poke. âYou looked pretty serious for a while. Is something on your mind?â
âIndeed. Is something wrong, Wanda?â Steve echoes your sentiment and youâre slightly taken aback by the questioning, somewhat castigating, look on his face.
She seems to remember herself and the seriousness that once took over her fades almost in an instant, a wide smile pushing the corners of her lips upward. âOh, itâs nothing.â She laughs and laces her arms around one of yours. âJust hoping that this would help ease your situation, babe.â
âIt definitely will,â Steve interjects, his voice strong and certain. âThese are high-quality equipment that will be able to track and capture every moment inside the apartment and outside your window. And it was created by my very good friend, Vision. So, I am certain there would be no flaws.â The grin on Steveâs face is wide when he says the name, and you look at Wanda when she gasps, her hold on you tightening.Â
âVision?â You repeat in question. âYou know him?â You ask your friend.
âUhh, yeahâjust some guy Steve introduced before.â Her voice quivers and she releases you, taking a step forward towards the tall blond. âHow is he? Is he doing okay?â
âHe also said to not forget about installing the app on her phone so she can check in on the cameras from time to time,â Steve adds, ignoring Wandaâs query altogether, and walks towards your front door. âIf there is nothing else, Iâll be on my way.â
âThank youâuhh, Steve, for all your help.â You trail after him and see him out the door. âIs there any way I can repay you?â
âJust install the app.â He demands as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, before looking in Wandaâs direction who straightens at his attention. âWeâre counting on you, Wanda.â He adds before walking out of your apartment.Â
You make a face as you shut the door, heading over to the couch where Wanda sits and taking the space beside her.Â
âWhatâs up with that dude?â You groan, shaking your head to ease off the weird encounter. âIs he always that bossy? Where did you even meet him? And whoâs we? Whoâs counting on you?â
âOh, Steveâs just really a no-bullshit kind of guy.â She explains then rummages through her bag when a ping sounds from within. âHeâs always been like thatâwhereâs your phone?âÂ
The sudden switch in the conversation has you frowning, looking down at Wandaâs hand when she holds it out to you. You notice how her cheerful demeanor was almost nonexistent as soon as Steve walked into the apartment. She was quiet and pensive and you wouldnât have noticed the strain in her if she didnât squeeze your arm when he mentioned that strangerâs name.
âBabe, phone?â She asks again, quite eager this time and you relent, taking the device from your back pocket and handing it to her.Â
She quickly takes it and then hands it back, shaking the phone as she silently asks you to unlock it. Once you enter the code, she grabs it back and stalks away from you, holding her own device in her hands and typing on yours vigorously. As soon as she finishes, she lets out a relieved sigh, the smile back on her face, and stalks back to where you sit.Â
âThere. Now be sure to keep your phone on at all times or the cameras wonât work.â She instructs, taking the seat beside yours and leaning back against it. âFrom what Steve told me, the power of the security system relies solely on the app. So, if you want to catch your stalker, you gotta keep that baby on and with you at all times.â
Itâs the first time youâve heard of such technology. Arenât security cameras powered by electricity? Why would they stop working if your phone died? You should have asked for more details from Steve before he left but that brusque front he was showing already made you feel like you were intrudingâeven if he was the one who entered your home.Â
So you ask Wanda.Â
âWhy would my phone power the cameras?â
She simply shrugs and grabs the remote of the television, turning it on and flicking to select your streaming service. âI donât know. It's just what they told meâwhat do you want to watch?â
There it is again. We. They. Who are these people that Wanda refuses to tell you of?
âWhoâs they?â You ask.
âBucky andââ She pauses and sits up, as if aware of what she said. âI mean, the guys selling it. This is still a prototype, you see, and I offered them your place as a testing ground.â
âEh? Testing?â You frown and look up at the cameras. âBut what if it doesnât work?â
âTrust me, it will. Weâre friends, right?â She says confidently, flicking through the options once more on the television. âWould I ever lie to you?â
Weeks have passed since your last encounter with your stalkerâwhich, as weird as it sounds, you find very unusual. After being so used to his intruding presence, youâd expect him to show up in the places you expect him to be; outside your apartment building or even across the street from your bakeshop, waiting for you to close up.Â
But so far, heâs been missing and you canât help but feel a slight sense of relief. Still, you continue to keep your guard up. Still looking over your shoulder and cautiously scanning your surroundings when you drive or walk back home. He could simply be toying with you, making it seem like heâs vanished then surprise you one day in the most horrific way.Â
Even so, youâre thankful for the peace and cling to the hope that heâs finally given up. You even check the camera feed religiously, just to be certain of his absence. And what you see, or rather, what you donât see has you smiling and encourages you to go on with your daily activities with ease.Â
The bell of the bakeshop chimes and you smile from behind the counter when you see Wanda strutting in, a popsicle in her hand. Youâre about to greet her when she tosses one towards you, grabbing it with clumsy hands and frowning at her unexpected yet tasty surprise.Â
âCouldnât you have just given it to me properly?â You chide. âLike a normal human being?â
âWhereâs the fun in that?â She laughs and leans her hip against the counter from the other side, looking around lazily. âDead time?â
âPretty much.â You unwrap the popsicle from the foil and give it a tentative lick, a smile gracing your lips at the taste. Mango. âLunchtime just finished. Besides, I think the heat is making people stay in their homes.â
âWhy donât you close up early today then? My friend is throwing a party at their place and you should come! We can drink to celebrate!â
âParty? Celebrate?â You ask while giving her a confused look. âWhat will we be celebrating?â
âYour freedom, of course! Your stalker hasnât shown up in a while, right? Isnât that worth celebrating?â
âI guessâbut what if he shows up while weâre outside?â Worry slowly starts trickling in. Itâs different when youâre doing mundane things, youâre more vigilant, more aware. But with the presence of alcohol? Youâre sure to be in a more vulnerable state. âI donât think itâs a good ideââ
âRelax. Itâs perfectly safe.â The smile on her face is wide, her lips tainted pink from the popsicle she licks.Â
âI donât know.â You frown, feeling uneasy with the invitation. âCanât we just celebrate at my place? Just the two of us? Iâm not really comfortable going somewhere until Iâm sure that man is gone.â
She sighs, disappointment evident on her face though you see her think as if considering your counteroffer. So you try to latch onto that hope and add another enticing detail that you know she wouldnât be able to resist.Â
âIf you say yes, Iâll give you a box of my cupcakes every time you ask for some.â You say with much conviction. âFree of charge.â
Her eyes sparkle then and you believe sheâs caught your bait. When she rolls her eyes and gives you a nod, you give her a wide smile, licking on the popsicle thatâs already started to melt in your hand.Â
âAlright, fine.â She agrees. âBut Iâm choosing the drinks for tonight and you canât say no to that.â
You laugh. âDeal.â
You laugh as Wanda dances along to the music playing in the background, walking over to the kitchen to pour both of you a glass of the vintage she brought. The pop of the cork surprises you even as you expect it and a smile forms on your lips when the bouquet of the wine kisses your nose. Fancy stuff.
Wanda was right about relaxing for it has been a while since youâve had the time to really let loose. With the stress of running your business along with the fear that your stalker brought, your life has been in such a knot that truly, youâve forgotten how to live.Â
You hand Wanda her glass and she grins widely when she accepts it. You lift your own glass to your lips and take a tentative sip, your eyes widening in surprise when Wanda tips the glass upward, almost choking as you drink the entire glass.Â
You gasp for air when she pulls away, giggling when you glare at her and she looks back at you, feigning innocence.Â
âWhat was that for?â You whine. âI almost choked!â
âBut you didnât.â She grins and sets her glass down by the pizza boxes. âIâm just helping you let loose.â
âWhy arenât you drinking yours?âÂ
âIâll have mine after I have food. And besides, you need it more than I do.â She laughs and takes a seat on the couch, sitting down beside her with a pout when she pats the space next to her.
You lean forward to grab a slice from the box then stop when your head begins to spin, feeling it grow heavy that you clutch on it, confused as to what is happening. You groan at the discomfort that slowly envelopes you and you feel a sense of panic when your vision blurs, making you blink hard twice to try and push it away; but itâs no use.
You groan when you hear Wanda say your name, looking over to face her but not seeing her. You try to speak, to call out for help, but no words come from your throat. Helplessness and confusion plague you as you feel your body slump over the chaise.
What did Wanda do?Â
âSorry..â You face the direction from where you heard the voice but your eyesight has already failed, only seeing a jumbled blend of colors.Â
A hand on your arm has you flinching and you moan when you feel another caress your cheek. You squint to attempt once more to see what Wanda is doing but what comes into your view has you freezing in terror. For itâs not Wanda holding you in their arms but the man youâve been fearing for years.Â
Heâs finally got you and you have no way of escaping.
A rocking sensation stirs you awake and a moan trickles from your lips. Your head still feels heavy and your body aches as you slowly resurface from the void that has taken over you. Confusion runs wild, and rightly so, for you donât recognize where you are; the concrete walls are completely alien, darkness shrouding the rest of the unknown space except for the muted lamp that shines at your side.Â
The rocking continues, back and forth you move against a soft surface. Youâre still disoriented but that soon all fades when his face comes into view, the last face you saw before going unconscious, with a wide grin on his face and his blue eyes blown wide with lust and desire.
It was no dream! It truly is him!Â
A garbled moan escapes you once more when he jerks his hips, having you realize the state that youâre inânaked and bound on a bed that isnât yours, in a place you donât knowâand what this man is doing. He doesnât stop, his movements only going faster and harder, your pussy walls pulsing around his cock that continues to slide in and out, again and again, taking more and more of what you refuse to give.
âSâŚstopââ you try to protest, you try to scream, but your throat is dry and tight, and no words form despite your efforts.Â
You try to kick your legs to fend him off and pull yourself away but you canât feel them. Youâre limp and at his mercy, tears spilling from your eyes as he pushes on with his sinful deed and you begging continuously for him to stop, to release you. But they only fall on deaf ears.
âItâs okay, cupcake.â He groans low, leaning down to have his face closer to yours as he rests his elbows on either side of your head. âYou donât have to be afraid.â He says before thrusting deep inside of you, making you groan as your pelvis aches from his strength. âItâs just me.â
You pull your face away when he bows his head, his lips pressing against your temple when he locks himself in place. He cradles you with his body and you bite your tongue to stop the string of moans from leaving your lips but only fail miserably when he quickens his pace. Once, twice, thrice, and more, he takes you further. The tingling sensation stirring in the pit of your stomach has you hating yourself.
âPâplease, let me go.â You beg, crying when he moves a hand to grab on your tit. Squeezing, kneading, rolling his thumb against the nipple that stiffens at his attention and you gasp upon feeling the unwanted pleasure cocoon you in spite of your reluctance.Â
âI canât do that, cupcake.â He says in a strained voice, the sound of skin slapping against each other filling your ears and you grab tight unto your restraints when he pounds roughly into you. Your walls clench, aching at his continued intrusion. And you grit your teeth when you reach that high, ecstasy completely taking over you that you suddenly come hard around him.Â
He follows soon after, spilling deep into your core with his moans of pleasure bouncing through the walls. You think heâs done, that heâll finally let you go as he already took what he wanted. But he doesnât pull away, instead nestling himself completely between your thighs and you mewl when he gives another thrust, his hips moving as he fucks his come into you.Â
âNow that I have you,â heâs breathless as he speaks, hands moving to caress your face before pinching your chin and forcing you to face him; your monster. He places a soft kiss against your lips, eyes wandering over your face, like a man obsessing over his prize. âWhy would I let you go?â
That was days ago, probably weeks when he finally captured you.Â
The man, Bucky or Jamesâyou donât care, as you found out his name is, keeping you prisoner, caged like an animal in the room underneath his home. Naked and afraid, with the darkness and the cold surrounding you and only being blessed with the light when he would visit once in the morning and another at night.Â
The torment was too much to bare at times but you kept fighting, clinging to the sliver of hope that you would one day escape his clutches and run away from everything and begin a new life. But as the days went by, your resolve started to dwindle. You realized that there was no use trying to fight him for each time you would, he would only fight back stronger, harder, and leave you battered, bruised, and used only for him to do it all over again.
Until one day, he came with a trade-off.
âPeace.â He said and you watched him intently, weakly, as he sat on the stool in front of you, setting down a paper bag he brought with him.
You listened to him. âFreedom,â he whispered and your eyes grew wide as the seven-letter word bore deep into your soul. Freedom from the hell heâs kept you in. Freedom from the agony that slowly peeled away your sanity. A lifeâone you knew before, to be able to do the things you once loved.
But in exchange, your hand. To spend eternity with the man that stalked you and forced you to live in fear. To vow to love him and serve him, to be the wife he always wanted you to be.Â
Is it truly freedom he offered? Or simply another cell to keep you in? You already knew the answer to that and you knew very well that your life was in the palm of his hand. He made sure of that, planned everything to the tee for heâs done everything to keep you alive, with only him as the judge of when youâd meet your demise.Â
You wince when your hands throb as you mix the cupcake batter in the bowl. The marks on your wrists are still visible, though slightly healed. You focus on the task at hand to drown away the demons of the past, burying them deep down where no one, not even you, could see it and keep yourself afloat in the present.
Itâs not the life you wanted, but one you expected. Bucky did uphold his end of the bargainâa roof over your head and food in your belly, a mansion for you to go as you pleased, and the gold band sitting snugly on your finger; a constant reminder of his power and what youâve now become.Â
You hear the front door open, chatter filling the silence of the big house. You know itâs Buckyâheâs home after several days of being away for work. Though itâs not his voice that has you on edge, but Wandaâs.Â
And her presence is confirmed when you look up and see her standing by the doorway to the kitchen. A tall, blond man stands beside her, one you havenât seen before, almost leaning against her as she looks at you with shock painted on her face.Â
She did this. She betrayed you. A monster in sheepâs clothing that didnât think twice about throwing you to the wolves. She was your safety net. Your confidant through trying times. But you were stupid and nothing more than a bargaining chipâa deal brokered by the two; you in exchange for her loverâs life.
âWhy donât you and Vision wait in my study? Steveâs already in there.â You hear Bucky tell her and you resume finishing the cupcakes you were preparing for your husbandâs return. âI will just greet my wife.â
The sound of footsteps clack against the marble floors and you sense Bucky coming closer while pouring the batter into their molds and turning to the over to stow them inside. You begin clearing up your mess, putting away the equipment youâve used when you suddenly gasp upon feeling two strong arms wrap around your waist.
You force a smile and put on the facade of a happy wife, placing your hand over Buckyâs and giving his knuckles a gentle caress, feeling the hard surface of his ring against your fingertips.
âI missed you, Mrs. Barnes,â He breathes, moving to press his face on the crook of your neck, your skin rippling in disgust when he plants a kiss on it. âI hope you missed me too.â
âOf course, I did, Mr. Barnes.â You respond automatically. âI even baked you your favorite for your return.â
âMy wife is so sweet.â He chuckles, your breath hitching when his hands begin roaming across your middle. âYouâre always so good to me, cupcake. You were made to be mine.â He sways you both from side to side, dancing despite the absence of music but the feel of his erection digging against the curve of your behind as you move forward, to which he stops by pulling you back against him.Â
âIt was supposed to be a surprise.â You begin initiating conversation, hoping for it to be a distraction. âBut you arrived a little too early. I hope I didnât disappoint you.â
âDisappoint me? Never.â He coos. âIâm the one who should be apologizing for ruining your surprise.â He presses another kiss on your neck. âBut I have something better in mind that could be my welcome home treat.â Your heart beats hard against your chest when his hand snakes down your yellow sundress, only for him to pull on the skirt and bunch them over your waist.Â
He growls when you stop his hand, moving once more to turn and face him instead. But he traps you against the edge of the counter, with his hand cupping your clothed cunt and his fingers exploring, rubbing against your clit.
You try to suppress the moans that force their way out of your lips but fail, his persistence crowding over you and you grip the marble surface when he pulls your panties to the side and press his thumb against your swollen bud.Â
âDonât you have a meeting with Steve and the others?â You ask, hoping he would stop and give you a reprieve. Even when he was gone for days, youâre not yet ready to have him back.Â
âThey can wait.â He snarls and you gasp, your back arching against his chest when he slips a finger past your folds, his touch sending ripples of dread through your skin. âBut I canât.â
I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springlibrary and turn on notifications.
Hey, Beanie!đ for Thicker than water fic - what if Tommy catches them?đ
Of the Same Feather
âTommy Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Tommy catches you and Joel.
Warnings: noncon/dubcon, graphic violence, manipulation & the Millers just being complete jackasses.
A/N: Please be gentle with me, it's my first time uwu As y'all can see, this is a continuation of my drabble Thicker than Water. Also, I apologize if it's quite sloppy. Ya girl's rustee mcgee
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! â¤ď¸
Tears stream down your face as you cower on your kitchen floor. Youâre paralyzed, shock and fear cocooning your body and your senses as you bear witness to Tommy pinning down his brother on the ground, his fists raining down on Joelâs face.Â
Tommy snarls as Joel tries to fight back, pushing to get the upper hand from the younger Miller. But Tommy is nothing but determined, anger and pain flaring in his eyes and his mouth almost foaming as he snarls and continues with his assault.
âShe wanted it, Tommy!â Joel grunts when he successfully grabs a hold of Tommy by the neck of his shirt, blood sputtering from his mouth and dripping from his nose as he speaks. âShe begged me to do it!â
âYou shut the fuck up, Joel!â The younger Miller snarls before throwing another blow to his brother.
Just when you think Tommy would start beating Joel once again, he stops, grabbing Joel by the collar of his flannel, and growls like a vicious animal before letting him go and pushing himself off his brother.
He leans against the cabinet under the sink, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. Anger curls around him like fire, low groans of frustration emitting from his lips and all you want to do is reach out to him and soothe him from the pain heâs feeling. But as soon as you try to move to touch his shoulder, he turns his head and his eyes meet yours.Â
Despite the deafening silence that fills the entire house, you hear your heart shatter when you see no love nor concern in his hazel orbsâonly rage. And he has every right to be. You could have screamed and stopped Joel from his perversion but you didnât and allowed him to do to you what he desired. So now, you take the consequences as painful as it is.Â
He grunts as he pushes himself off the ground and yanks his brother along with him.Â
âGet the fuck out of my house, you bastard, and donât you ever come back!â Tommy yells and doesnât wait for Joel to regain coherence before pushing him out of the kitchen.
Even when out of your sight the image of them continues to penetrate your mind as you hear both men struggling once more in the front room. A grunt echoes through the house then a cough and you push yourself to peek from behind the counter, wanting to make sure that Tommy is safe, that Tommy succeeds in making Joel leave.
âYouâd choose thatâthat whore over your own flesh and blood?!â Joel spits, blood smearing on his arm as he wipes it off his face. âOpen your goddamn eyes, Tommy! Sheâs just using you!â
âIf I ever catch you near my property, I swear to God, Joel, Iâll fucking kill you!â Tommy threatens.
Silence surrounds the entire house once more, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you wait for Joel to respond. But the slam of the door comes instead, making you flinch at the intensity before huffing out a breath of relief when you hear a car door open and close and tires rolling against the pavement.Â
Thatâs when you slump from where youâre hiding, eyes trained on the blood staining the tiles of your kitchen. Fear remains in your chest as the scene of Tommy beating up his brother replays over and over in your head. You know Tommy to be fierce but also very loving in his own sweet way, but never in your mind did it cross how violent he can be and you sit there, praying, hoping that heâd see reason and believe you.Â
You visibly start when he calls your name, hands shaking as you clutch on the edge of the counter and make to stand from your hiding place. Tommyâs anger seemed to have dissipated but with the way his chest heaves and his fist winds tight, youâre certain itâs still boiling within him.
âTommyââ you start. âIâI didnât ask for it, I swear.â The worry suddenly comes rushing in and you canât help but cry once more, the tears streaming uncontrollably down your face. âPlease, Tommyâplease,â you beg, your voice cracking as you force yourself to speak, to voice your side and to let him know your feelings. âPlease believe me, Tommy. Youâre all I wantâyouâre the one I love and I would neverââ
âYou mean that?â His question catches you off guard and you stare at him, seriousness and sadness painting your face. âYou really love me?â he asks.
âI do, Tommy,â you rush to him and immediately wrap your arms around his middle, his eyes focused on your face as you look up at him, fingers clutching on his shirt from the back. âI love youâonly you.â
He doesnât speak but from the way he looks at you, you know heâs thinking. A small smile then forms on your lips when he presses his hand against your cheek. You lean against his touch, reaching for his hand, all the same, to keep a hold of him, to keep him near.Â
âThen prove it.â He utters, the words making you blink in confusion. âBend over.â
âHuh?â
âIf you mean what you said, that Iâm the only one you love, prove it to me by bending over.â
âButââ
âThen Joel was right. You are just using me.â His eyes flash a different shade, turning darker by the second.Â
âTommy, no!â You cry once more, clutching his hand when he pulls it away from your face. âPlease, Tommy! I love you, I really do.âÂ
âIf you mean that, you know what to do.âÂ
His tone scares you, cold and callous, concern all gone as if the Tommy you knew and fell in love with flew out the window. Your hands shake once more, fidgeting as you think of his words. Slowly, you turn around, swallowing thickly as you face the countertop and do as he says, leaning forward and exposing your behind to him.Â
Your lips quiver when he closes the distance, his crotch pressing against your ass, a whimper escaping your throat when his hand moves to caress the cheek, his foot kicking yours apart and your spine going rigid when he cups your clothed cunt.Â
âWho owns this pussy?â He snarls against your ear when he bends over, his chest pressing against your back. âWho. Fucking. Owns. this?âÂ
But before you can respond his fingers flick through the fabric of his boxers that youâre wearing, pushing it aside only to caress your pussy lips and pushing in a finger while his thumb presses threateningly against the tight ring of muscle.
âYâyou.â you mumble and everything you once knew seems to fade right in front of you when he slips another digit within, fucking you the same way his brother did.Â
I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springlibraryand turn on notifications.
Also, send me some What If requests hehe Help boost my creativity â¤ď¸
Summary â Vision helps you relieve some stress after a tough day at work.
Warnings â mentions of vaping, public oral sex, noncon/dubcon undertones.
A/N â Just a nasty thought that popped in my head on my way home; starring my favorite synthezoid boii, Vision. Also lowkey miss writing for him uwu
âWhat are you doing, darling?â
Your back goes rigid and your fingers tighten around the vape device just before you can slip the tip between your lips.
You have no idea how he found you. You made sure to hide before you went back homeâno, this place is not your home, this place is your prison. And he isnât your husband, one he believes himself to be, he is but your warden, your captor, and your death sentence.Â
Vision stands before you, his human disguise masking his true identity yet his eyes ever the true blue, with danger laced around them. He wraps his hand around yours and takes the blue device from your grasp. He examines it, deft fingers tracing the metallic surface and you gasp in shock when he suddenly crushes it in his hand, the liquid dripping from his fingers.Â
âI told you to stop that.â He scolds.
âVisââ you stop when you hear him growl, blinking and swallowing thickly, correcting yourself. âIâm sorry, sir. IâI was just stressed at work and I needed to blow off some steam.â
The seriousness in his eyes suddenly vanishes and you startle when he chuckles at your words. Though you know, deep down, that he is far from amused. And you know well not to trust his actions for they mean something else than what he shows.Â
âYou should have told me, darling.â he hums as he takes a step forward, and you fight not to push him away when he reaches over to cup your face, making you look up at him. âI could have helped you. All you need to do is ask.â
You shut your eyes when he leans forward, your fingers curling into a fist when he presses a kiss on your forehead.Â
âDo you still feel stressed?â he asks but before you can even respond, his hand shifts, resting both on your shoulders and you look up at him with wide eyes, fear surrounding you when he forces you on your knees.
âSirâwhatââ
âShhh. Iâm helping you blow off steam,â he remarks with a devious smirk, oceanic eyes glinting with darkness when he fumbles with the zip of his pants. âMaybe sticking your mouth somewhere else than that horrid device would help.â
âBuâbutââ you quiver, eyes looking around for fear that you both would get caught. âSirââ the word comes out as a choke you struggle against his hold when he grabs your hand and presses it against his growing erection. âSomeone might see. Why not we go home?âÂ
âYou werenât scared when you were huffing out here, showing our neighbors what a bad girl you are.â he tuts, snapping his finger against your cheek when you try to look away from his crotch. âThis way, people will truly see how bad you are. And maybe that would teach you a lesson. Understand?â
Unshed tears brim at your eyes and you nod at his words, helpless against his strength as he keeps a hand on you, preventing you from escaping.Â
âNow, get on with it,â he demands. âThis cock wonât suck itself.â
Summary: Your night of wallowing in your misery takes a different turn when your dadâs best friend bumps into you at the bar.Â
Warnings: noncon/dubcon undertones, oral sex with fingers at play, unprotected sex, age gap (around 20-25 years), kinda SoftDark!Joel but also nah, gaslighting, predatory vibes & pussy slapping. Use the warnings wisely and tread carefully.
A/N: We have reached the endâor have we? Either way, thank you to everyone that has been following this mini-series since the beginning. I do apologize for the late update as I am going through some rough patches atm. Still, thank you from the bottom of my heart and I hope to release more Joel/Pedro content for y'all soon!
Your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy.â¤ď¸
â Previous Chapter
The sun shines through the window, its rays kissing your skin as the morning comes and greets the world. The birds chirp happily, their song being carried by the wind, soothing and peaceful, unlike your soul that continues to be plagued by the darkness and the formidable force that is Joel.
Your sleep was restless as the events of the evening kept playing in your head, giving you no serenity, no escape, only dread. Disbelief shrouds you, still finding it surreal that the man you knew for years and was trusted by your family would attack you and betray you in such a way. A wolf in sheepâs clothing.Â
His snores echo through your bedroom. His naked chest pressed against your back. But the worst one of all, his cock remains inside of you, your inner thighs stained and sticky from his come, evidence of his depravity, a psychotic demonstration of his power and perverse desires for you. Your cunt aches, sore from his assault that you allowed helplessly, powerless to his strength and intent.Â
You force yourself not to cry, to not make a sound as the severity of your situation sinks in your bones. The last thing you want to do is wake him up and face the morning with his suffocating attention. To hear his words of faux concern that he knows what you need. And his fucked up head, he thinksâno, he believes that what you need is him.Â
So, you close your eyes and wish for sleep to visit you. You hope that heâs gone when you wake up and that everything that had happened would have all been a nightmare, one you can forget and push to the back of your head and never think of again.Â
But just as your eyes get heavy and your body reaches a point of calm, he stirs from behind you and youâre wide awake once more. His arm around you tightens, pulling you flush against his chest and you struggle to keep the reluctant moan from leaving your lips when you feel his cock throb against your pussy walls, his hips rolling against your own.Â
âGood morning, baby,â he says in a sleepy drawl, your body shivering when he presses a kiss on your bare shoulder, his beard bristling against your skin.Â
You donât respond, hoping he would think youâre asleep and that he would leave you alone. But his hand begins to wander, your skin tingling when he grazes his fingertips against it before trapping a nipple between his fingers and giving it a rough pinch.Â
âI know youâre awake,â he groans.
His hips begin to move, slowly pulling back and then pushing in, his length rubbing against your sore cunt. And all at once, he traps you in his arms, a gasp pulled from your throat when he turns your head to have you face him when he looks down at you, his hand caging your jaw before he leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your lips.
His tempo then picks up, swallowing your moans when you feel him plunge his cock deeper. The hand previously on your breast travels south, caressing your stomach and you let out a yelp of surprise when he slaps your pussy, once, twice, then multiple times in quick succession, stopping all of a sudden only to press his finger against your clit and rolling against it roughly.
Your walls slicken at the touch and your back arches against his chest as the stimulation drenches over your entire being. Toes curling, hips bucking instinctively and your mind going blank, consumed by the pleasure you didnât wantâand all you could think about is reaching high for your peak and seeking that release.
âI feel your body aching for me, baby,â he groans on your cheek when you break the kiss, gasping heavily and whining when he turns on the bed and lays on his back, pulling you with him and having you rest on his chest.Â
With his knees positioned between yours, he spreads them apart with yours and his hand latches around your throat while the other sits gingerly against your cunt. Your body bends, teeth grinding as your body sings in ecstasy when he rams his cock against you, faster, harder, fucking you senseless, making your ass bounce against his thighs.Â
Strings of whimpers and moans slip past your lips as you beg for relief, his hand slapping once more against your cunt, your clit stinging in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your walls then clench around him, the pit of your stomach rolling, swirling as Joel continues to impale you, his thrusts frantic and erratic and you feel his hot breath spreading against your heated skin.Â
You then shout in pain when his teeth clamp on your shoulder, but it quickly subsides as the sensation only provokes the desire swimming deep in your core. He sucks on the patch of skin and then bites down, his tongue rolling around the prickling area before pressing a kiss on it.Â
âYouâre mine, babyââ he growls and you choke when his fingers tighten around your neck. âDonât you ever forget that.âÂ
His words jolt fear into you with how possessive and feral he sounds. But such thoughts vanish as quickly as they came and you grab onto his arms when you feel the coil within you twisting tighter and tighter.Â
You focus on one thing, to reach your peak and you imagine Joel not being here, painting his face with another, with Alexâs, just to simply endure the torture he bestows upon you easier and find a sense of comfort amidst the whirlwind of this monstrosity.Â
Breath hitching and legs shaking, you let out a shout when the thread finally breaks and a blinding orgasm takes over, making your body stay still as your juices flow out of you in a rush, coating heavily on his cock. But his hips donât relent and both his hands grab onto your waist as he pounds into you mercilessly. Though he doesnât last much longer, slamming his cock deep within where he shudders and growls when he finally spills his seed.
The air is musky with the scent of sex as you both lay atop the mattress, chests heaving and exhaustion settling in. A whine trickles out from you when his hand finds purchase of your pussy once more, fingers playing with your clit before running his hand north and splaying his fingers wide against your stomach.Â
âYouâre on the pill, right?â he asks out of the blue and panic quickly washes over you at the realization that he finished inside.Â
But before you could respond, he plants a kiss on your shoulder and then on your hair, whining when his cock slides out of your pussy and feeling your mixed essence drip down your inner thighs and to your ass.Â
âWell, even if you ainât, we can get those morning-after pills later.â he says, amusement evident in his voice, both his arms wrapping around your body as he cages you to him. âLetâs just enjoy the morning for a little longer, shall we?â
-
Joel, as youâve come to realize, is insatiable.Â
Relief filled you when he allowed you to clean up, happy to finally be away from him even if it was for a short while. Your feet were still stinging from the burns from the night before but you preferred it more than being with your captor.Â
But the respite you thought you had was taken away when the curtains flew open just as soon as the hot water hit your skin and Joel stepped inside the tub, feeling his arms wrap around your waist to pull you against him.
âI saw the pills,â he whispered in your ear, tears pooling in your eyes when you felt his cock stiff against the small of your back. âGlad to know weâre in the clear,â he added and proceeded to take you once more in the tight space.Â
Youâre still in shock as to why heâs doing this, his words from last night ringing in your ears. It makes you question just how long heâs been thinking of you, seeing you in such a way and not as his best friendâs daughter. The thought makes you sick, knowing that he must have been waiting, preying on you without you even realizing it. Taking advantage of the times you both would bond with each other and wait for the opportunity to strike.
But his deviance is not what scares you but the fluctuation of his mood. He was rough and manipulative last night, blaming you for his actions. Yet, now, he's calm and all smiles, sitting in front of you on the bed, dressed only in his boxers and you in a nightshirtâforegoing the panties at his behest. A tray of toast, eggs, and bacon sits between youâsomething heâs prepared himselfâa sweet and thoughtful gesture should the circumstances be different.Â
He bites on a piece of toast and you do nothing but stare at the food, questions swirling in your head. How will you escape him? Would you even be able to? What would happen if you told your dad what he did?
âYouâre not eating.â his voice stops your train of thought and you look up at him, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. âDonât you like it? I can make you something else.â
âNoâthis is fine,â you say with a strained smile, picking up a piece of bacon. âThank you.â you bite into the shred of meat, forcing yourself to eat despite your lack of appetite. But you donât want to displease him, youâve seen the extent of his strength and anger.
He stares, hazel orbs intense and dark and you look away if only to keep away from his suffocating presence. But the bed moves and the tray of food is pushed aside, your eyes blinking when his hand appears in your line of sight. You hesitate for a second but immediately place your hand in his when you hear the low growl he makes. He tugs you and you follow him with reluctance, taking a seat on his lap as he directs.Â
Back resting on his naked and damp chest, you try not to pull away when he nuzzles his nose on the crook of your neck, an arm wrapping around your waist while the other rests over your thigh and kneads on the flesh.
âYouâre coming home with me tonight,â he says, more of a command than a request and you say nothing. He continues, âSo that youâre not surrounded by memories of that chump ex of yours. Understand?â
You swallow thickly, afraid to utter a word but the way his fingers dig painfully into the meat of your thigh has you hissing and you acquiesce to his demands with a nod.Â
âThings are going to be different from now on, baby,â he whispers and you whimper when his hand slips between your thighs, finger tickling your skin before cupping your naked heat, and his thumb slowly pushes down against your sensitive bud. âNo more wasted tears,â he murmurs, your hand grabbing his wrist when he starts rolling the pad of his thumb against your clit. âNo more broken heart.â
You sniff and try to close your legs, to stop him. But he pinches your stomach and you bite your lip to suppress a cry, succumbing once more to his desires.Â
âIâll give you everything you need,â he growls low and you stiffen against his chest when his finger teases your slit, the tears falling down your face when he pushes it past your folds and into your cunt, fucking you slowly.Â
âI love you, baby. Always have and always will.â Shivers run up your spine when he kisses your ear and whispers once more, his words sealing your fate. âAnd no one will ever take you away from me.â
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Warnings â mentions of drugs, coercion, implied noncon/dubcon.
âYou know you shouldn't be around these parts, sweetheart.â
Hands cuffed behind your back and your body pressed against the hood of the cruiser, you groan as you pull against your restraints. Your brows furrow and your eyes are filled with rage, watching the stout sheriff while he rummages through the contents of your pack.Â
You knew not to venture into this part of town with the cops buzzing around like flies, apprehending every poor soul that comes across their path. But you simply couldn't resist the call of the east district. With junkies laying everywhere, one stroll through the infamous Tent Alley would have you swimming in cash by morning.
But you got caught and you snarl at Sheriff Bodecker when he smirks in your direction, tossing the baggies of cocaine in front of you and setting down the butterfly knife, the one your brother gave you, beside your face.
âI'd say that's about half a kilo you got there, sweetheart.â he tuts. âYou know the punishment for being caught in possession alone?â He says before taking one of the ziplock bags and opening it, dipping his pinky into the powder and pressing against the pad of his tongue. âYouâre looking at fifty years when caught selling this shit.â
âI know you, Bodecker,â you growl. âYou pigs buy from Fowlerâs boys yet I donât see them behind bars.â
âWell, thatâs âcause we made a deal with them.â he chuckles, your eyes never leaving him as he circles the vehicle, your heart pounding hard against your chest when he stops and stands behind you. âBut Iâm sure you and I can make a deal of our own?â The hair on your skin stands in attention, dread filling your senses when you feel his hand run up the expanse of your thigh.Â
âWhat the fuck are you doing?!â You shout but gasp soon after when he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers squeezing the sides as he presses you harder against the metal surface. âLet me gââ you choke.
âYou listen here, sweetheartââ he starts, your skin rippling in disgust when he leans down and you feel his stomach press against your back, his hot breath fanning against your cheek. âIâll tell my boys not to bother you and youâre free to roam around to do your business in my jurisdiction. And all you have to do is what I want when I want, got it?â
His offer makes your blood boil in rage yet your body shake in fear. You know not to negotiate with men like him, ones who hold power and put on a facade of protecting the people, for nothing good will ever come to ones of your status, the ones who beg for scraps and get into seedy businesses just to get by.Â
But you donât have much of a choice; going back to your usual route brought you nothing and your one-time endeavor in the east gave you so much more than you hoped for. The market is just better here, you tell yourself, but is succumbing to this manâs unsavory desires even worth it? Youâll be a puppet of the sheriff, you know that for sure, but you already are with your supplier and the one he works for. Does adding another to control you make a significant difference?
You sigh, the choice already made in your head. A huff of exasperation and relief then leave your lips when you feel the sheriffâs hold on you loosen but his other hand continuously lingers on your ass, fingers gently digging into the clothed flesh.Â
âWhat do you want?â You breathe.
He chuckles darkly and you whimper against the vehicle when he kicks your feet apart, the sound of his belt buckle jingling filling your ears.Â
âWhy donât we start by having some fun?â he snickers. âThen we can talk business.â
Summary â Secrets are revealed amidst the celebration of your brotherâs ascent to underboss.Â
Warnings â unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), established relationship, graphic violence, character death, betrayal, hurt no comfort, implied kidnapping, entrapment, Mean!Curtis is in the building.
A/N â This is written for @the-slumberparty's April Monthly Challenge: Mob AU and the prompt I chose was "I don't love you. I own you." I do ask you to be gentle with me as it's my first time writing for Curtis and I'm still trying to get a hang of him.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! â¤ď¸
Standing at the side with the walls and champagne being your only companion, you observe the events playing out in front of you.
Your fatherâs friends, several of his trusted associates, and family members have gathered in your home to celebrate your brotherâs success. He not only passed the challenges that were thrown to him by the leaders, but he also impressed them, giving more than what was being asked of him and utterly exceeding their expectations. It not only convinced them to bestow upon him the title of underboss but deemed him worthy of being your fatherâs successor in the syndicate.Â
Youâre happy for himâtruly you are for youâve supported him every step of the way and did nothing but encourage him to make your father proud. It even came to the point of helping him in one of the jobs when he caught himself in a tight situation. Giving him a plan of action on how to face the problem which eventually worked in his favor and allowed him to slip through it easily.Â
Though such a feat, when presented by your brother to your father, was simply brushed off.
âHer words are nothing but a meaningless babble of a jealous child.â Your father sneered in your direction. âYou, my son, are still the one that did all the work.â And praised your brother.
âDonât listen to him, sis,â Gabriel said after your father dismissed you both from his study. âHe knows I wouldnât have succeeded without your help. Besides, Iâm underboss now and you can be my consigliere.âÂ
Despite his encouraging words, you still felt defeated, knowing well that no matter what you do to help the family, the way he sees you will never changeâa burden, someone with no caliber to the family, and the worst of all, the reason for your motherâs death.Â
âHeâs the child any parent would be proud to have!âÂ
The cheers that echo throughout the main room pull you away from your thoughts and you watch as the guests gather around your brother, clapping him on the back and giving him another round of congratulations. While you, the other child, remain unseen in the background.Â
Not wanting to endure further any more of the festivities, you finish the remaining contents of your champagne flute in one gulp and set it down on one of the tables before making your way up to your room. You know no one will be looking for you or asking of your whereabouts. Hell, you doubt your father would even care if you left home right there and then.
Staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror, you begin taking off your jewelry and make to reach for the zip of your dress. But the sound of your door opening and closing draws your attention, a small smile grazing your lips upon seeing Curtisâ reflection when he stands behind you.
His usual black long-sleeved shirt is hidden underneath a black coat jacket. You also notice his beard is freshly trimmed, making you adore the way he looksâstill gruff but with a splash of class.
You stare at his sapphire eyes as they grow serious with intent when he starts unzipping your dress. Rough hands move delicately over your skin and he pushes the straps from your shoulders, the fabric cascading down your body and pooling around your feet, leaving you only in your shoes and panties.
âYou left the party.â He drones, arms slowly circling your middle before he leans down to press a kiss on the crook of your neck.Â
âNo one would look for me.â You sigh and turn to face him, leaning against his touch when his large hand cups the side of your face and his thumb rubs small circles on the apple of your cheek.
âI would.â he breathes, âI did.â
You close your eyes when he leans down and you lean up to meet him halfway, pressing your lips against his. He kisses you softly at first, exploring, gentle, and giving then you feel him pull you close, your hands pressing against his solid chest, and a soft moan leaves your lips when he deepens the kiss.
It wasnât easy getting to where you and Curtis are nowâremembering the day he joined your fatherâs men; a newbie to the syndicate and assigned to watch over the bossâ daughter.
His silence and grouchy exterior caused you unease, making you unable to trust him and simply go along with your fatherâs wishes just so as not to upset him. But as the months turned into a year, you grew to know him despite his lack of enthusiasm to talk and you slowly found a friend in the lonesome world of the syndicate.
Heâd accompany you to errands your father would give you, an act of pity or a means to give in to your brotherâs requests, and you felt nothing but safe in his company. Always standing guard even with no threats visible but you knew better than to question his judgment. Heâd even lent a listening ear each time you would ramble on your frustrations about the lack of trust the family gives you and would give small words of comfort, telling you that youâre better than the leaders that run the business.
Eventually, your relationship blossomed, although in secretâCurtis sneaking into your room when you would call upon him or spending days with you at the familyâs vacation home when your father would have you nowhere near the mansion when he had his capos over for meetings.
Aside from your brother, heâs the only one you trusted. A confidant youâve always wanted and a lover you never knew you needed.
Your arms circle his neck, pulling him closer as you reciprocate the intensity of his kiss, tongues, and teeth clashing against each other. A giggle slips from your throat when he carefully, blindly walks you toward the expanse of your bed.
As your back hits the mattress, Curtis kneels on the ground, lifting your leg as his lips trail butterfly kisses down its length before wrapping his fingers around your ankles, one by one, taking off your heels and dropping them to the floor.Â
Instinctively, you hook your leg over his shoulder and welcome him into your heat. His name leaves your lips in a series of soft moans, fingers skimming over his shoulders and then through his buzzed hair when his lips press against the front of your panties, tongue soaking through the fabric as he rolls it around your clothed clit.Â
You feel him push your panties to the side, the cool air of your room kissing your heated skin, and your pelvis bucks against his mouth when he laves his tongue slowly against your slit and connects with your clit once more, flicking on the bud before wrapping his lips around it to suck on it hard.
âCurtisâ!â you gasp his name, uncaring as your voice bounces against the walls of your bedroom, pulling him closer and slowly grinding your pussy against the warmth of his eager mouth.Â
He doesnât hold back and you donât want him to, loving the way he takes and takes but at the same time gives you the pleasure that has been an addicting sensation each time heâd bury his face between your thighs.Â
His beard only adds to the lust-filled sensation running through your veins, rubbing your sensitive skin raw and sending a wave of pleasure down to your toes. Your back arches and your breath hitches when he slips his tongue past your pussy folds, licking, tasting, and lapping up the nectar that pools at your core, a gift you willingly give and desire for him to take.
You feel the stirring at the pit of your stomach and you urge to pull away, to stop him from his worship. But he doesnât relent, hooking his arms around your thighs, growling against your cunt that makes your skin shiver and you do no more but succumb to his control, whining as you feel yourself reaching your limit.Â
âCurtisâplease,â you beg and try to lift yourself by your elbows but the way he looks at you, piercing blue eyes meeting yours, have you convulsing, the intensity of the orgasm taking you by surprise that you tip your head back and call out his name, fingers digging into the duvet as your essence rushes out of you.
âSweet as ever, princess,â he rumbles into your cunt and gives your clit one last kiss before licking you clean and pushing himself from the ground.Â
Youâre panting heavily, a smile of satisfaction etched on your face. Itâs what youâve needed to release the stress from the eveningâs event and forget about the humiliation and dejection from your father.Â
As you lay on the bed, limbs weak from the pleasure, you smile once more when you feel Curtis join you. Heâs naked and warm and you immediately wrap your arms around him when he hovers over you, parting your legs wide to enfold them around him as he positions himself between them.
âCurtisâI need you.â you whimper, feeling the tip of his rub against your folds. âPleaseââ
âI know, princess,â he whispers, lips ghosting against your cheek before he presses his forehead against yours. âI know.â
-
With Curtis kneeling on the bed, his arms wrapped around you possessively, you gasp for air with your fingers scratching his skin raw while he sucks on your breast, his cock impaling you repeatedly and making you bounce against his thighs.Â
Heâs made you come twice now and itâs the third time heâs having his way with you, giving you no respite to have you breathe and only switching the position to take you once again. Heâs eager and full of passion, a feat youâve never seen before and you bask in it, allowing yourself to fall into his demands.Â
He thrusts into you with pure hunger, teeth grazing against the nipple that makes you whine and meet him with each thrust, feeling his cock slide deeper and deeper into you as your cunt slickens further from the lust that cocoons you both.
You look down at him when he pulls away from your tit, sapphire eyes dark, blown wide, and laced with carnal desire. You lean down to kiss him and he meets your lips with a fiery intensity, laying his back on the bed and effortlessly pulling you on top of him.Â
He swallows your moans when his pace quickens, fucking into you hard and fast, the sound of your skins slapping against each other filling your ears with the unrelenting tempo of his hips. You try to move your hips but he doesnât let you, keeping you still as his arms tighten further around you.
Heâs movements are frantic and reckless and you pull away from the kiss to take in air. But it only makes him latch his lips onto your neck, sucking on the skin and bruising it with his teeth, the sensation making you moan loudly when you feel yourself, once more, reaching your peak.Â
âYouâre mine, princess," he groans when he pulls away from your neck, his eyes boring into yours as he circles his hand on your nape. âYou understand? Youâre mine.â
âYes,â you choke, pressing your forehead against his. âIâm yours.â
You feel his cock throbbing against your walls and your breath hitches, hands gripping him tight when the dam within you finally breaks, and your pussy walls flutter around him, your body spasming as you come hard and coat his cock with your essence. He doesnât take long to follow after, the air in your lungs leaving you all at once when he gives a hard thrust, your name spilling from his lips in a form of a growl when he spills his seed deep within.
Exhaustion finally takes over and you lay limp over his solid chest, soft whimpers escaping your lips as he keeps grinding his pelvis against yours, fucking more of his come into you. You keep your eyes closed, too tired to even move a muscle or appreciate the post-sex haze. But a smile makes its way to your lips when he presses a kiss over your cheek, moaning softly when he wiggles his hips, keeping his cock snug inside your swollen cunt.
âSleep, princess,â he mumbles against your hair, hands gently caressing your skin. âIâll be here when you wake up.â His words act as a soothing balm, a comfort you desperately need and you snuggle in his hold, basking in his muscular scent and the warmth he gives you before your consciousness dwindles and you fall into a sated slumber.
But heâs nowhere to be found when you stir from your sleep, a vast bed and a muted darkness greeting you instead of the face of your lover. Though it doesnât take away the peaceful smile that forms on your face and the delicious ache that sings deep in your bones.Â
You try to hear if the party in the main room is still up and swinging but the time displayed on the clock says itâs way beyond midnight. You only hope that the festivities have been long over and that everyone has gone home and called it night but still, you donât put it past your father to hold one of his private meetings with his capos now that your brother has joined the fold.Â
Walking toward your closet, you put on a pair of pajama shorts and a night shirt before leaving your room, wanting to look for Curtis and grab a glass of water before heading back to bed. But as soon as you climb down the stairs, an odd feeling drenches you with the halls being eerily quiet and your fatherâs men that usually walk around the house nowhere to be found.
You make it to the kitchen, still set on your intent when a peal of chilling laughter sounds from the main room. The voice is somewhat familiar, one youâve heard in your fatherâs meetings with his boss. But that canât beâdespite your lack of involvement in the syndicate, you know the rules that had been laid out for the others to follow.Â
âLetâs see if these moves fuck!â The voice says with amusement.
An angry shout follows after followed by a pained grunt and you can tell it's your brother. Immediately, you run to the dining table and snatch the gun tied under it before stalking over to the main room, keeping to the walls to check on the unwanted visitors. But what you witness makes the bile crawl up your throat, a massacre of your fatherâs associates, the strong scent of metal wafting through the air as lifeless bodies are scattered across the floor.Â
The walls of the room are painted crimson and men you donât recognize stand still at the sides, armed and stoic while they watch the scene playing out before them; your father tied to a chair, gagged and beaten while your brother stands in front of him, protecting him. Blood trickles from his head and his left eye swollen, he holds up a knife, grip tight on the handle while he faces the enemy that taunts him.Â
Lloyd Hansen is never supposed to set foot on your familyâs territory. Itâs the rules the elders have given when your father was gifted the city. But there he stands, looking pristine in his black turtle neck and blood-spattered white jeans with only the cut on his cheek and his disheveled hair giving away that heâs been fighting. But still, he holds himself in that cocky demeanor, the hair on his lip twitching when he smirks and taunts your brother.Â
Before he could get close to your brother, you stand away from where youâre hiding and pull the trigger, a loud bang resounding through the walls as the bullet meets the marble floor by Lloydâs feet, making both men flinch and Hansenâs men stand on alert, all guns pointed at you.Â
âWhat the fuck?!â Lloyd shouts, his head turning and anger etched on his face when he faces you. âYou almost shot me!â
âStand down.â A voice calls in the room and you stand in shock when Curtis comes out from the shadows, a hand resting on Lloydâs shoulder before walking over in your direction. âYouâre not supposed to be here, princess.â
âCurtisââ you say in a rush, panic surging through your veins when he nears you. âWhatâs going onââ
âStay away from him, sis!â Gabriel shouts, grunting in pain soon after when one of the men clad in black hits him in the back with a gun, making him drop to his knees. âHeââ he wheezes, âheâs a traitor.â
âWhatââ you flinch when the gun is snatched from your hand, the firearm sliding across the floor. Curtis stands so close, his sapphire eyes laced with darkness as he rests his hands on your shoulders. âCurtis?â your lips quiver upon saying his name, the easiness slipping from your lips and replaced with fear. âWhatâs going on?â
âWhatâs going on is that weâre taking over this worthless city, sunshine.â Lloyd answers from behind him, a smirk playing on his lips as he runs a hand through his hair. âWhy donât you tell her, boss?â
âBoss?â You blink in surprise and step back from Curtis, disbelief running through your head as you try to piece everything together. Your brotherâs warning, Lloydâs words and Curtis looking unscathed despite facing the enemy. âYouâreââ anger surges through your veins and you ball your hands into fists, lunging at Curtis and beating at his chest. âYou liar! You fucking used me!â
But youâre fighting a losing battle as he easily grabs your wrists and you yelp loudly in pain when he turns you around, twisting your arm and bending it behind you, your shoulder straining from his strength.Â
âYou let her go!â Your brother shouts in rage but Lloyd kicks him in the stomach, making him bowl over and drop himself on the floor.Â
Curtis walks you into the vast room, having you stand over your brother and you cry when you see his condition, battered and bruised as he struggles to push his feet under him. But you only shout in agony as Lloyd kneels over him and continues to beat him, fists raining down on your little brotherâs face, blood spilling from his mouth.Â
âWatch carefully, princess.â Curtis drones, his other hand framing your chin as he forces you to face forward. âThis is all thanks to you.â
âWhy are you doing this?!â You shout as you continue to struggle against his hold. âPleaseâlet him go! If you love me, Curtis, youâll let him go.â
You feel him tense behind you and youâre washed with relief when he commands Lloyd to stop.Â
Lloydâs fist stops mid-air, a huff of annoyance leaving his lips before he stands and Curtisâ grip on you slackens, allowing you to stagger forward and kneel before your brother. You cradle his head as you try to wipe away the blood from his face. your tears flowing continuously as you stare down at him, watching him cling to life as you grab his hand and press it against your cheek.
âIâm here, baby brother.â you whisper, lacing your fingers through his. âIâm here.â
You see a faint smile form on his face but a loud bang echoes in your ear, making you recoil in fear. But as soon as the chaos dissipates, you face your brother to check on him but stay stock still when he stares up at you with lifeless eyes, blood trickling from his head and staining your hands, seeing a bullet lodge in his head.
You scream in shock but more in agony as you shake him, and beg for him to be alive. But nothing comes out of it, not a sound or even a movement, making you cry out harder as you hold him to you, your baby brotherâgone.
Another shot sounds and you snap your head to the side only to see your father slumped forward, his restraints holding him from falling off his seat. But he, too, met the same fate as your brother. You turn to see Curtis standing over you, the gun you previously had in your hand now in his and you pounce at him, rage taking over you as you try to attack him.Â
But he easily fends you off by smacking the back of his hand against your cheek, making you drop down where your brother lays. You then wince when youâre pulled by your hair, making you look up to face Curtis who crouches in front of you, the hand holding the gun reaching over to caress your cheek that swells from his assault.Â
âWhy are you doing this?â You cry, defeat drenching you cold. âI thought you love meââ
âLove you?â The low drawl of his voice sends a chill up your spine, pulling away when he leans closer and presses his forehead against your own. âI donât love you. I own you.â he spits and you feel your heart break at his words, all the comfort you felt with him shattering into dust.Â
He did thisâfooled you and your family, disguising himself as a bodyguard only to get information on the ins and outs of your fatherâs business. And the worst part? You showed him the way. With all your complaining and mindless ramblings, you were feeding him information that no one should have known.Â
So, his words bear some truth, that this was all your doing.
âAnd along with that, everything your family has.â He smirks and your stomach rolls in disgust when he presses a kiss on your forehead.
underboss - 2nd in command to the boss
consigliere - trusted advisor of the boss
I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springlibrary and turn on notifications.
Summary: Your night of wallowing in your misery takes a different turn when your dadâs best friend bumps into you at the bar.Â
Warnings: noncon/dubcon undertones, oral sex with fingers at play, unprotected sex, age gap (around 20-25 years), kinda SoftDark!Joel but also nah, gaslighting & predatory vibes. Use the warnings wisely and tread carefully.
Summary: Your night of wallowing in your misery takes a different turn when your dadâs best friend bumps into you at the bar.Â
Warnings: noncon/dubcon undertones, oral sex with fingers at play, unprotected sex, age gap (around 20-25 years), kinda SoftDark!Joel but also nah, gaslighting & predatory vibes. Use the warnings wisely and tread carefully.
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Summary: Your night of wallowing in your misery takes a different turn when your dadâs best friend bumps into you at the bar.Â
Warnings: noncon/dubcon undertones, oral sex with fingers at play, unprotected drunk sex, age gap (around 20-25 years), kinda SoftDark!Joel but also nah & predatory vibes. Use the warnings wisely and tread carefully.
A/N: Another Joel fic for ya nasties. This is a Modern AU so no brain-eating fungus is present. Also, tell me what kind of Joel you wanna see next! This is a mini-series, y'all!
Your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated. Support Content Creators! And of course, I hope yâall enjoy!â¤ď¸
âFuck you, Alex,â you murmur under your breath before taking a shot of the liquor, the burn of the tequila is a welcome sensation.
Slamming the glass down against the bar top, you give the bartender a tipsy smile of apology when he looks at you in disapproval of your rowdy actions. But can he really blame you? The anger you thought had passed slowly starts bubbling in your core, your hand gripping tight around the glass before letting out a defeated sigh.
Bullshit!
Thatâs what you call the reasons he gave you that fateful afternoon when you marched into his office, worrying, thinking if he was alright and well but also annoyed for ignoring you the entire five days he was on his business trip.Â
You couldnât take it any longer. His silence, too deafening and his disregard becoming too much to handle that you stormed into his office the day after you knew he would be back. You even went as far as missing a day of work, Deniseâs nagging ringing in your ears when you called that morning.Â
Though you can bear her wrath, something youâve done countless times. But this? Not this. Not with Alex toying with your feelings.Â
Iâm not ready for anything serious yet.
You deserve someone whoâll give you the time and attention you want. And thatâs not me. But you can always call me when you feel lonely.Â
Oh, how you wanted to scream at him and punch away the smug look on his face. To throw the things sitting idly on his desk and cause a ruckus and fully express that you are not one to be played with. To make him regret wasting your time loving him and taking care of him.Â
But you didnât.
Instead, you nodded in defeat, much to your chagrin, and bade him goodbye, shoving him as hard as you could when you ran out of his office. You ignored the stares of curiosity his co-workers threw at you, your heels clacking against the marble floor as you rushed through the lobby so that no one would stop and notice the tears running down your face and hear the sound of your heart breaking.Â
And now, here you areâwallowing in your self-pity, your sadness, and loneliness with tequila being your only friend.
Unshed tears begin welling in your eyes and you mop them away harshly with the back of your hand. You call the attention of the bartender once more, a little loud and more obnoxious than you expected, and order another round of shots.
âWhatâs a pretty thing like you doinâ alone in a place like this?â
Your back straightens upon hearing the lilt of the manâs voice. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widen in surprise when you see those familiar hazel orbs glinting against the light of the bar mirroring your expression.
You almost donât recognize him without the flannel he usually wears, replaced by a navy suit jacket hiding the same colored shirt underneath. His salt and pepper hair is tousled back neatly and the scruffy facial hair youâre used to seeing him with is neatly trimmed, accentuation further the cut of his jaw.
âJoel?â you ask with a soft voice. âWhââ
âSweetheartââ he grunts, âJesusâfuck!â he takes a step back, disbelief and embarrassment evident on his face before he turns to you once more, a sigh leaving his lips. âIâm so sorry, sweetheart. I thought you wereâwait,â he pauses mid-way, palm pressing flat on the bar when he leans closer. âWhy are you crying?â
âIââ
You turn away quickly to face the bar and dab away the tears away you didnât know escaped, cursing yourself for allowing them to fall in the first place. But you stop moving when you feel a hand gently wrap around your wrist, your eyes looking upward to see Joel with concern looming in his.Â
âIâI wasnât,â you say with a chuckle, hoping the display of mirth would mask your lie. âI just had something in my eye and the tequila they serve here is very stââ
âYou know that Iâll know if youâre lying to me, sweetheart.â Joel scolds and you pout at his words, knowing full well how much the man knows you. âWho hurt you? Was it that stupid boyfriend of yours?â he growls.
His question makes you blink in surprise. âYou know about Alex?â
âYeah. Your papa told me about him before I moved here.â
âMoved? Here? But this is a long way from Texââ
âDonât try to change the subject, sweetheart.â he interrupts, hand moving to cup the side of your face with his thumb reaching over to rub gently underneath your eye. âNow, tell me what happened.âÂ
Releasing a breath of resignation, you turn back to face the bar and grab one of the shot glasses already lined up in front of you.Â
âHe broke up with me,â you admit, tipping your head back as you take a drink and hiss when the liquid burns your throat. âAfter five days of ignoring my calls and messages, he tells me he isnât ready to be in a committed relationship and a couple of bullshit nonsense.â
You glance at Joel, waiting for him to chime in or say anything, but he doesnât. Instead, he keeps his eyes focused on you, the hand once on your cheek now resting on your shoulder and giving it an encouraging squeeze. You continue.Â
âI loved him, Joelâfuck! I still do.â you cry, the tears flowing freely, though this time, you do nothing to wipe them away. âI just donât understand why he would do this to me. Why he would ghost me like some stupid teenager and hurt me instead of being honest with me.â
You frown as doubts begin to plague you and your self-esteem slowly crumbles. You never once were the first person people chose, always the last, or if the universe was being kind, at least the second. And meeting Alex, you thought that would change, that for once, someone actually chose you, wanted you.
He was sweet, attentive, and possessed all the qualities anyone would want in a partner. The sex was definitely amazing but that was simply a consolation for you for it was his personality and charm that drew you closer to him. But people always said âif itâs too good to be true, it probably isâ and what he did and the pain heâs caused you, only proved it to be very accurate.
âWas I not good enough?â A hiccup erupts from your lips and you press the heels of your palms to your eyes when the tears keep going, sobbing silently as sadness completely takes over you. âWas I not worthy enough to be loved? To be honest to?â
âOh, sweetheart,â Compassion laces Joelâs voice and you keep your head down to avoid him seeing you in such a state when he takes your hands away from your face. You allow him to wipe away the tears, calloused hands cupping your face gently afterward and tipping your head back for your eyes to meet his. âNever think that because you are enough and you are worth it.â he intones, thumbs gently caressing your cheek to put away stray tears.
âYou are beautiful, inside and out, and that boy couldnât see that. Just know that someone is out there and they want you, will do anything to be with you and it will only be a matter of time before they reveal themselves.â His words, sweet and comforting, pierce through your heart for no one has ever told you such things. You want to believe him, you really do, but a small part inside tells you that he simply pities you and is feeding you words you want to hear.Â
âYouâre perfect,â he adds and leans over to press a kiss on your forehead. You sit on your stool, stunned at his display of intimacy and staring up at his warm, caramel gaze when he steps closer. âI hope you can see that.â
Warmth blooms at the base of your neck, crawling up your cheeks and you pull away from Joelâs hold to face the bar instead, feeling shy with the way heâs acting. Still, youâre grateful for his presence, happy to have even bumped into him even if it was a weird coincidence.
âT-Thank you, Joel.â you give him a small, pathetic smile. âReallyâit means a lot and Iâm happy youâre here.âÂ
âAnything for the best girl I know.â he grins at you and calls on the bartender before leaning against the bar and setting a hand on your thigh. âTell you what, why donât we drink and let the alcohol take that heartache of yours away.â You startle when the bartender sets two tumblers of whiskey in front of the two of you and stare at the glass when Joel casually slides it in your direction. âNo need to think of the pain but be happy at the fact that loser saved you years of it.â
He lifts his glass to you, a grin etched on his face.Â
âWhat do you say?â
I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springlibrary and turn on notifications.