#basement wife trope
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Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]
Summary: Of course, you had to fall sick. What else could possibly happen when you’re being kept in some bastard’s basement?
Word Count: 2,956
Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist
Warnings: Dark, Non Con (non-sexual), Kidnapping, Basement Wife Trope, Manipulation, Legal Documents, Illness (mentions of Retching/Nausea, Fever), Swearing/Cursing, Bathing, Pet Names (honey, precious). Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: Not as grody as the last chapter, I promise. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I missed any tags. Happy Second Sunday of Attic Wives Advent! ❄️🎉🍾🙌🏻
I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.
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This is unBeta’d, so all mistakes are my own.
Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!
Your body shivers uncontrollably beneath the blanket. If only you had a mountain to burrow under. Something to keep you warm. Yet you’re sweating from every pore.
Hate burns deep in your belly, swirling with the nausea. That sick fuck is gonna leave you down here to die. Let the fever ravage you until you expire. No. You won’t let it. Your teeth grit even as they chatter. Burning rage fuels you, though exhaustion tugs at your eyelids. Sleep too tempting to resist, you plummet into it. Rest is good—it’ll help your body fight.
You awaken to a weight shifting beside you a few hours—who could say how many—later. Your eyes snap open, arms flailing to swat at the man sitting beside you. A weak growl rolls roughly in your throat.
“Hey, shhhh,” he soothes as he grabs your wrists.
You blink and squint into the dim lighting. It’s not Andy—the man imprisoning you in his basement. The older man beside you looks down at your shivering frame with something like pity shining in his eyes. He’s handsome, but you’ve learned to be wary of that. Too many fucked up experiences under your belt.
“What has Andy put you through?” he asks, muttering more to himself than to you.
You scowl and turn your head away from his hand lifted to check your temperature.
“Fuck off,” you grit from a sore throat.
“I’m here to help you,” the man says with a quick glance over his shoulder. “You can’t live like this.”
You blink up at him, suspicions dulled by a foggy head but still pricking at his smooth-talking. Like he expects you to believe him. He knows Andy. He’s probably in cahoots with him—friends, thick as thieves. Who knows what this wolf is hiding under his sheep’s clothing.
The door to the basement unlocks and opens. Andy enters with a tray filled with a plate, pill bottles, a single flower in a vase, a cup, and mug.
The man leans closer in quiet desperation. “Just trust me.” Even his insistence doesn’t persuade you, though something about his tone piques your curiosity. He stands and backs into a corner as your captor closes the door.
“There’s my girl,” Andy croons, approaching the bed and setting the tray next to it. “The doctor recommended plenty of fluids and to check your temperature about now.”
He presses the button and the device beeps before he slides it across your forehead. You scowl, but it doesn’t affect the path of the device as it reads your temperature.
“Oh, dear,” he mutters under his breath.
Andy places the thermometer aside and cradles your face in his hands. You bare your teeth, but you have so little energy to fight.
“Her temperature’s higher,” he says to the man in the corner. “What do I do?” His eyes plead, his fingers stroking over your cheek.
The man pushes himself away from the wall. He approaches and gently sits beside Andy. He removes your captor’s hands from your face. You slump, releasing the tension in your body. In your fuzzy brain, you can’t decipher the look the older man sends your way.
“You know what needs to happen,” he says with a pointed look toward your feet.
You unconsciously shift, the chains rattling under your blanket.
Andy sighs, his chin dropping toward his chest. “Yeah,” he admits in defeat.
Your ears prick beneath the heat of your fever. What is he doing?
He reaches for the button of his collared shirt. It pops open under his fingers and he reaches inside, drawing out a thin chain necklace and a dangling key. He hesitates with the key in his hand, but bends slowly toward your feet. He draws away the blanket and lifts your ankle to his lap. The click of the lock unlatching sounds like a hallelujah chorus. The chain and ankle cuff fall away with a clatter to the floor. Tears fill your eyes. It’s not much, but already you feel hope igniting in your heart. An opportunity, even if you can’t take it right now.
Without looking away from your foot, Andy asks, “do you really think this is—”
“Yes,” the older man interrupts.
A moment passes as the two men lock eyes. Andy sighs and leans down again to kiss your legs—higher up your thigh, exposing more of your skin to the cold air. If you could move, you’d kick his teeth in. But he keeps a gentle hand on your ankle in his lap, petting over and soothing the red skin. Even his softest touch stronger than what little you possess in your weakened body. His thumb strokes your ankle bone. You growl, but the sound cuts off into a coughing fit.
Andy rubs your back as he lifts you in your shivering cocoon of fever. Hiking you up into his arms and holding you close to his chest. He grunts. You protest with soft sounds of fury and surprise. Curses and spite sit on your tongue, unvoiced.
As he climbs the stairs up out of the dingy, disgusting basement you can’t even appreciate it, eyes closed to stave off the bubbling nausea in your gut. Sunlight blooms across your face. You open your eyes to be blinded. Such a normal home around you. Big windows leading to a lush green backyard.
Your lips open to scream, sure that this is your chance. All you manage is a weak croak.
“Shhh,” Andy shushes with his head tilting to rest his chin to your forehead. “Don’t exert yourself, honey. Everything’s okay.”
You turn your head and open your lips, biting into his shoulder. Your teeth ache with the pressure. He groans softly and tilts his head to press his lips to your forehead. You stop, stomach lurching.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He keeps climbing up another set of stairs and another like a ladder. The room he enters barely catches your notice, save for the lightness of its walls and its cleanliness.
The door just to the side of the entrance reveals an adjoining bathroom. He takes you in and sits you on the closed toilet in your blanket. Your eyes scan your surroundings. White tile gleams, pristine. A large sink sits in a quartz countertop which dips into a vanity. A shower head points into a large tub—big enough for at least two. You shudder and close your eyes for a moment to shield yourself from that gut-wrenching thought.
Water rushes from the faucet of the bathtub and he lets it fill. The sound of it grates in your head. Too loud, too much. Your feet itch. An attempt to stand and run leads to disappointment—dizziness and fatigue too much a hinderance. You groan. Though it catches his notice, Andy says nothing and continues to prepare towels and soaps for your bath.
You can admit that relief sparks at the prospect of finally getting clean. How long you’ve spent in that filthy, disgusting basement you couldn’t say. Don’t even want to guess. Nose-blind now to your own body odor, you can’t imagine how you smell, and you can’t bring yourself to look in the vanity’s mirror to see the state of your skin.
“Come here, honey,” Andy beckons while he approaches and tries to strip the blanket from your shoulders.
“No,” you grit between your teeth, clutching at the fabric.
With your impaired strength against his, it’s no wonder you lose. He balls the blanket and throws it out the door. A smug smile on his lips. You sneer.
Delighted at your inability to defend yourself, he hikes you back up into his arms and dips you into the water. One smooth motion with no time for you to snap at him as your bottom finds the porcelain of the tub. Violent shivers wrack your body. The water, it’s too cold. Your hands grip the edge, searching for leverage to hoist yourself out of the glacial water.
Andy’s hold you down. “Hey, let your body get used to it. The doctor said lukewarm water would help lower your temperature.” His eyes shine down at you, a farce of kindness and sympathy. Too consumed by drinking in your bare figure beneath the water.
Your lips tremble too much to do more than sputter hateful sounds. But your captor doesn’t seem to mind as he begins to douse your shoulders and hair with water and foam up a loofah with body wash.
“Don’t. You. Dare,” you manage to bite as his hand approaches.
“Do you think you can wash yourself, honey?” he asks, all concern and encouragement—evil bastard. “Here.” He offers the loofah to your hands. “You can go ahead.”
The frustration builds. Your hands fumble the soapy loofah before it falls into the bath water. You try again, but each effort to wash your limbs ends in struggle and defeat.
“It’s alright, precious girl,” Andy coos with a pleased glint in his eye, “let me help you.”
You’ve no choice. Not when he takes the loofah and softly scrubs it over your shoulders. With the warmth of the water and your waning energy, it’s no contest. You sink down into the water while he manipulates your limbs.
“You know,” he mentions as he tilts your head back and grabs a soft washcloth for your face. “I’m not a bad guy, honey.” He smooths the soapy cloth over your face and clears it from the dust and debris of the basement. “I just wanted us to have our best chance.”
“Holy hell,” you mutter under your breath, leaning into the distortion of your syllables through your slightly stuffed nose.
A knock sounds from the door. Your head lifts from its position. Sputtering through the water that splashes in your eyes, you huff a frustrated breath.
“I have everything ready out here,” the other man says through the wood.
“Thanks,” Andy calls over his shoulder, turning back to you with a smile. “It’s all gonna be better, you’ll see.”
Curses run through your head, scenarios forming. Each one worse than the next. What hell are they going to put you through now? Andy tips your head back further and soaks your hair with water.
“I know this might take a moment, but I’ve researched what’s best for your hair.” Pride exudes from his words, like he’s expecting praise from you. As fucking if.
He squeezes shampoo into his hand and begins. Each step he does with the utmost care. Like you’re some precious, fragile doll fit for breaking. You wonder how deeply he researched—what effort were you worth? He pours more water over your head and shields your eyes.
God fucking dammit. You’re enjoying it. The pampering. The care. The gentle touch. You retch over the side of the tub, a dry convulsion of your stomach. His hand rubs over your back to soothe you. You want to scream. But you fall back into the lukewarm water, shivers running up your spine, and let him finish. The sooner he does, the sooner you stop that traitorous train of thought in its tracks.
Once he completes the last step of his routine, he pulls the plug on the drain and leaves you in the murky, receding water. You let your fingers drift until it’s all gone, disgusted by the grime sloughed from your skin.
“Oh,” he says, coming back to your side with a fluffy towel. He stares at the last dregs of water like you. “Maybe one last rinse, precious.”
By the time you’re truly done with your bath, you can’t even complain when he helps you stand and wraps you in the fluffy towel. Relief flowing too heavy to fight him off. He cradles you close to his chest and runs his hands along your waist, reveling in your semi-compliant state.
“There we go,” he sighs in delight. “Nice and clean.”
You grumble but can admit you feel much better. Your head clears as you stand there in his arms, despite the sickness still swirling around in your body and leaving a cloudy haze behind.
Andy escorts you out to the larger room. You glance around. But you halt your perusal, confused by the stranger from before seated at a small table. Before him spreads several papers. You’re sat beside him, Andy’s hands a firm weight on your shoulders.
“Andy,” he addresses your captor, “why don’t we let her have a moment to herself?”
Andy pipes up a noise of protest. “She needs to—”
“Andrew,” he admonishes, “give her a break.”
Andy sighs and squeezes your shoulders. You glance up at him. Irritation narrows his gaze. But they both leave.
You gawk after them. Flabbergasted by the sway the older man has over Andy. The way Andy defers to him. Could this man really help you get out of here? You keep to your observations of them until the door shuts behind them, disbelief and suspicion waning.
The room falls silent around you. With a chance for a better look around, you notice the light grey walls, the white crown moulding, the tufted headboard on the bed and matching furniture. It looks like someone threw up a Pottery Barn catalogue and a Live Laugh Love Pinterest board, and it congealed into this room. Not your style at all. You grimace.
Another door stands in the corner—you pray for a closet. You walk over and open it, finding not much. A few frilly dresses, and that’s all. Your brow furrows in disappointment. Better than being naked, you grab one off the hanger and throw it over your head. At least there’s no zipper to grapple with.
You tug and smooth the fabric over your stomach and legs. The dress not to your preference, it clings uncomfortably to your frame. Your feet find their way back to the table, you glance at the array of documents. Fingers flip through a few of them before your vision swims and the door opens again, just a crack.
“Are you decent?” the stranger whispers through the small space.
“As good as I’m gonna get,” you respond with a sigh and a hand massaging your forehead.
With your reply, he sneaks into the room and closes the door behind him. He glances to the fingers still pressed to the papers and those kneading at your temple.
“Did you get a chance to read through them?” he asks with a nod of his head toward the table.
You shake yours. “But it looks like some kind of contract.”
“You’re right.” His hand raises to comb his hair back. It flops over and brushes his cheeks. “Mostly, it’s a non-disclosure agreement. A few other bits and pieces.”
“For what?”
“Andy’s a lawyer,” he explains while taking a seat at the table. “He understands legal documents. I suggested this as a way to help you.” His hands sweep in a gesture above the papers.
“Why?” you ask, the words tinged with suspicion as you sink into the seat across from him.
“Why what?” he asks with a tilt of his head.
“Why do you want to help me?”
The man lets out a heavy breath and stretches his hands across the table. “Andy’s my friend, but he needs help. I know that.” He presses a finger to the sheet closest to him. “This is what I can do. Get you someplace better. Make sure my friend gets what he needs. Make sure he never does this again.”
Looking in his eyes, keeping your gazes locked, he doesn’t flinch or look away. He’s telling the truth. He wants to get you out, just like he said. You blink in shock.
“So if I sign these papers, it’s over?” you ask, hands finding their way to clutch together in your lap.
“It’s the only way I can see this getting better,” he replies with the same sincerity. He gathers everything up in a pile and hands it over.
A pen sits by your hand and you lift it. You scan the first document, but with the headache and sinus pressure, it’s all legal jargon you can’t decipher before it becomes blackish grey mush in your eyes. Your head starts to spin. Before you can think better, your signature and initials sit on their respective dotted lines.
The man breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he says, clipping everything together. Gratitude saturates each word, too saccharine. “It’ll be so much better now. I promise, you’ll enjoy the attic much more than the basement.”
He keeps talking, but static fills your brain. The attic? Wasn’t he going to get you out? He said—he said…you can’t quite remember anymore. Your brain pounds behind your eyes. You clutch at your head.
The door swings open and Andy charges in, beelining for his friend and flipping through the packet of papers. A smile growing wider and wider on his lips.
“She signed everything?” he asks, voice excited in a way you don’t like.
“She did.” The older man pats your captor on the back. “Congratulations, you two. I’ll leave you to your honeymoon.”
“What?” you mumble. A nauseous weight sits heavy on your chest. You can’t breathe. All air sucked out of the room.
The older man comes over to you, crouching and catching your eye. “It’ll be better,” he repeats, patting your hand. “Just you wait. That marriage certificate was exactly what he needed. He’ll take much better care of his wife.” He stands and presses a kiss to your forehead. You wipe your face in shock while he shakes Andy’s hand. He walks away and turns back for one last wave before closing the door to your new hell.
#andy barber x reader#andy barber fanfic#andy barber fanfiction#dark#dark fic#kidnapping#tw kidnapping#yandere vibes#basement wife trope#attic wife trope#attic wives anonymous#18+#minors dni
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Title: Return to Sender [5 of 7]
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Dark! Andy Barber x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader
Summary: Andy Barber promised he would never let you go, and come hell or high water, he's going to keep that promise.
Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Kidnapping, Minor Violence, Gaslighting, Basement Wife Trope, Manipulation, Stalking, Obsessive behavior, Possessive behavior, Smut, MORE TAGS TO BE ADDED
A/N: 👀 is… is anyone still there? i promised i’d update this this weekend, and i delivered. an hour before midnight, but i delivered. 😅 i know it’s been a while for this fic, but it hasn’t been forgotten about. i really hope you all enjoy this latest installment, and please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! as always, comments are great, reblogs are golden. thank you for reading, and mind the warnings. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics
Where am I?
You stare blearily at the distant ceiling, dull and rusting metal beams criss-crossing over exposed brick. You reach out for Dove, and when your fingers meet empty air, your throat tightens as you remember.
Pronge walking away with your baby, and Ari—
You sit up, your fingers knotted in the thin blanket. The repurposed garage office is still and silent, the springs creaking quietly underneath you. The air smells like old motor oil, singed rubber and citrus-scented antiseptic, and it burns your nostrils. You’re almost afraid to shatter the fragile silence with the sound of your movement, but it can’t be helped as you shove your feet back into your sneakers. The office is long abandoned, the desks all pushed up against the sides of the room to make space for the bed.
The hallway is slightly better, boxes of papers and car parts lining both sides, lit by old yellow florescent bulbs that give off less light than they should. There’s a dusty, unlit neon sign that reads Gary’s Auto-body, leaning against the wall. Down the hall, you can see that the light is on in the garage proper, this one bright and brilliant white. You squint as you pass through the doorway, spots dancing in front of your eyes as they slowly adjust to the light.
In its previous life, this place had been a car mechanic’s garage, but now it serves as something like a speak-easy operating room. The car lifts have been mostly dismantled, and sitting on the concrete in the rusted outline of where they used to be are two operating tables. Ari is on one of them, speaking quietly to the man winding a length of beige bandaging around his right shoulder.
Zemo. Ari called him Zemo.
“Mouse, you’re up.” You cover your mouth with both hands to stop the surprised squeak from reaching him. Guiltily, you peer around the door frame, waiting for a reprimand that doesn’t come. The “doctor” regards you with cold, calculating eyes.
“So this is the young woman Mr. Barber is tearing the city apart to find,” he says. “How nice to finally meet you.” Andy’s name sends a cold shiver down your spine, and you clutch yourself. Zemo’s welcome feels less like kindness and more like tolerance. It makes you wonder how long you’ll be staying here.
“You know Andy?” You ask, careful to keep your face as neutral as you can manage.
Zemo scowls. “Well enough to know we do not get along.” He shakes his head, before regarding you with a cold smile. “Your husband has just as many enemies as he does friends.” Beside him, Ari sits up on the table with a pained grunt, swinging his legs over the side.
“We can trust him, Mouse.” Ari offers you a watery smile. Nervously, you step closer, skirting around the now defunct counter as you attempt to give Zemo as wide a berth as you can manage. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, cleaning his tools with a cloth before dropping them with a loud, metallic pap into the metal tray next to the table.
“Are you okay?” You ask him in a quiet voice as you approach, fingers dancing nervously around the gauze. You shake your head, closing your eyes as you blow out an exasperated breath. “I mean, I know you’re not okay, but—” Ari places a warm hand over your own, a quiet laugh rumbling in his chest.
“I’m okay.”
“Lucky for you Pronge is a terrible shot.” Zemo quips. “He missed bone.”
“See?” Ari says, squeezing your hand tight before letting go. “I’m just fine.”
“You’re not fine. You have a six millimeter hole in you.”
“Semantics.”
“Keep activity to a minimum. I shouldn’t have to tell you this,” Zemo replies dryly. “And keep it clean, I’m not going to do it for you. This isn’t a hospital.” You watch him pack up his tools, ferrying them over to the deep sink on the other side of the room. Ari slides off of the table with a grunt, and you watch him press his lips together as he stands upright, gritting his teeth against the pain.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ari mutters, cutting his eyes at Zemo over his shoulder. “Six millimeters.” The doctor tosses him a worn looking cloth sling. Ari tries to fit it over his shoulder, and you rush to help him. “Thanks, Mouse.” Your cheeks warm with an uncomfortable heat. “I could have done it myself.”
“This is all my fault,” you mumble angrily, shaking your head. “I have to do something.” You step back from him, tucking your chin. He rests a warm, comforting hand on your shoulder.
“No it’s not.”
“If I—If I hadn’t—” Guilt is an achingly heavy cowl about your sagging shoulders.
“Mouse, what good is this going to do you?” The gentleness in his touch makes you flinch.
“As much as I am enjoying this conversation,” Zemo clears his throat. “I have my own wife and son to be getting back to.” You watch as he places his cleaned tools back into his bag. “Do remember what I said about your… hole.” He gestures to Ari’s injured arm with a grimace. “I’m rather keen on not amputating.”
“You and me both.” Ari says. The two of you watch as he makes his way over to the front of the shop, pulling the metal garage door up enough to slip underneath it. “What time tomorrow?”
“Noon.”
The garage door slams down hard onto the concrete, and then there is silence. You stand there awkwardly, twisting your t-shirt in your restless hands. They’re so used to holding the baby, without her sure weight in them they feel… useless.
You feel useless. Adrift.
And it isn’t just Dove—it’s everything. Despite what Ari says, you know this is your fault. He’d never have been hurt if you hadn’t been so fucking helpless. And it’s your own fault, you’d let your guard down, let Andy back inside, let him make a home inside your head, and it was your fault.
“What are you thinkin’ there, Mouse?” Ari’s voice interrupts the self-depreciating internal monologue running rampant in your head. “I hope it’s about getting some sleep, you need it.” Again, his earnestness puts you on edge. You don’t know what to do with it—it feels alien to you now, almost like you’d prefer Andy’s smug cruelty—at least then you know what to expect.
You don’t want to admit that you’re blaming yourself, thinking about all the ways you could have prevented this exact course of events just by being better.
“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m exhausted.” If anything, you’re too awake, recalling last night’s events with perfect clarity. You can’t even look at Ari as the two of you silently make your way back to the repurposed offices, shuffling along beside him as your insides squirm. You feel too much to go to sleep, so many warring desires it feels like you’re being torn apart from the inside out.
You suppose that’s one thing you sort of miss about Andy—you didn’t have to think, didn’t have to feel. He did it all for you. You arrive back at your “room”, fidgeting nervously before you cross the threshold. You don’t think you can sleep in here now, now that the adrenaline has worn off. Now that the terror has been waylaid by your other earthly concerns.
Ari notes your hesitation.
“I can stay with you util you fall asleep, if you don’t think you can.”
You duck your head, shaking it emphatically. “I should be looking after you,” you reply, shooting him a look over your shoulder. “You should, um, rest.” Ari looks around, raising an eyebrow. Oh. There’s only one other bed—and it’s current occupant is currently snoring so loud you can hear it in here.
“You sleep here, and I’ll—” You look around. “I’ll sleep in one of the rolly-chairs or something.” He laughs softly at your sudden determination.
“You know I’m not letting you sleep on chairs, Mouse.” Ari rests a hand on your shoulder. “You take the bed.”
“You got shot, Ari!” You hiss. “I-I-I can’t—”
He holds up his hands placatingly, like he can see you working yourself up. Hell, he probably can.
“Okay.” He threads the fingers of his good hand through his blond hair. “I’ll sleep on one side, you on the other. Fair?”
“Y-yes. Fair.” Your words shock the both of you, and you feel your face heat as he regards you with a look of pleasant surprise before you look down at your feet.
“You don’t have to agree if you aren’t comfortable, Mouse. You know that. I wouldn’t—”
“I know.” You grip your own forearms tightly as you speak, like you’re afraid saying the words out loud will make them untrue—like speaking the name of your demon will bring him down upon you. “You’re not Andy.”
Ari takes the left side of the bed, and the springs creak under his weight. You crawl in beside him, holding yourself as stiff as you possibly can to avoid even brushing him by accident. The truth is, you are scared—but not of Ari.
And that frightens you, too.
He’s a man, a stranger, wearing a face too similar to the one you’re running from. Now, though, when you’re brave enough to peek at him, you see Ari—not Andy. And the longer you’re here, the clearer you see him.
You lie there in the dark, your arms held painfully stiff over your chest as you search the dark with wide, glassy eyes. The ceiling is far enough above you that your brain begins to construct patterns and shapes on it’s popcorn-textured surface. Grinning faces, tall, shadowy figures—
“Mouse, are you sleeping?”
You hesitate. “…No.”
“Go to sleep.” You swallow against the thick lump in your throat, blinking back hot tears.
“It’s… It’s hard without Dove.” It’s so silent without the baby, the darkness uncomfortably quiet without the sound of her sleepy burble. She’s probably awake right now, wailing for you. You press the heels of your palms against your eyes like you’re trying to hold the tears in.
“I know.” The mattress creaks, and you feel Ari’s weight shift. The weight of your loss settles in on you, then, the crushing vacuum of your daughter’s absence sucking the air out of your lungs as you gasp for it. You can’t keep quiet anymore, your hiccoughing breaths rising in pitch until you’re sobbing, hot tears streaming down your cheeks to soak your hair and the thin pillow beneath.
“Hey, hey, come here.” Ari’s touch is hesitant. He lets his fingers linger on your shoulders before he hugs you, like he’s waiting for you to rebuke him. You don’t. Instead, you curl into his chest, your wails muffled by his body as you tangle your fingers in his over-shirt. You cry so hard it hurts, your throat raw and aching.
Ari’s hands don’t stray. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t murmur false platitudes or make promises he knows he won’t be able to keep. He just…holds you, his breath steady and heartbeat slow and even under your ear.
And then, finally, you fall asleep.
—
In the light of day, Irene looks terrible. Her left eye is swollen black and purple, a patchwork of burst blood-vessels and yellow bruises spread out over cheek. The other side of her face is not much better, the other eye open but blood red, and her nose swollen. It’s obvious she took a beating, a bad one. Still, she seems to be in higher spirits than last night as she shovels the last of her cereal into her mouth. You’re doing the same thing, hungrily crunching down the contents of your own bowl.
“We need to talk about next steps.” Irene draws the back of her hand across her mouth, her one good eye focused on you. “We need to move.”
“I’m not going anywhere without Dove.”
“That isn’t an option anymore.”
You clench your hands into fists on the table. “I’m. Not. Leaving.”
“We will figure out a way to get her back, but right now? You cannot go back to Boston, he is never going to let you go, do you understand that?” It’s like you’re speaking two different languages, talking around one another in dizzying circles. You shove yourself away from the foldout table, knocking over your plastic chair.
“I’m not fucking leaving without my daughter!” You haven’t felt like this in months, and something about it feels freeing as the hot rage pools in your chest. No, it isn’t that you haven’t felt it, you haven’t let yourself feel it. Anger was hopeless with Andy, firm and stone faced in the hurricane of your rage until you exhausted yourself, your freedom, your life still frustratingly far out of your reach.
You storm away from the table, kicking aside one of Zemo’s silver trays, and his tools skitter across the concrete. Behind you is the sound of Ari’s voice.
“I’ll talk to her.”
You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you need to be away from them. Alone. The bathroom is on the far side of the garage bay, and you slam the door behind you, your chest heaving. You can’t leave without Dove, you won’t.
You won’t abandon her.
You grip the porcelain edges of the sink hard as you blink back fresh tears. You turn on the water with a fierce jerk of the knob, and begin to rinse last night’s tears from your face. This is the cleanest room in the building, fresh towels stacked on on the shelves, and medical supplies arranged neatly in the glass cases across from the standing shower.
It’s probably the only room Zemo actually uses.
As you’re drying your face, a knock sounds at the door, and you glare at it as you huff.
“What?”
“It’s me. Can I come in?” You chew your lip.
“Fine.”
You unlatch the lock, and fold your arms across your chest as it opens. Ari peers around the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” You repeat, and he chuckles, stepping fully inside as the door swings shut behind him. “I’m not leaving without Dove.” You say it firmly, watching his shoulders sag with his deep sigh. “It’s not happening.”
“Mouse. Look at me.” Reluctantly, you drag your gaze from the air over his shoulder. “Your husband—”
“We’re not married.” You spit, and Ari rolls his eyes at the technicality.
“He’s dangerous, Mouse. You know that.” Ari places gentle hands on your shoulders. “You know that as soon as you step foot back in that house that he will never, ever let you go again.” Your stomach twists at his words.
“I can get out again.”
“Will you want to?” His bluntness feels like a slap across the face, and though Ari hadn’t struck you—would never—your cheeks smart anyway. You know what he’s implying—Andy scrambled your head all up inside, and half the time now you don’t know up from fucking down.
But it still hurts to know he knows. Knows how changed you are, even though he never got to see the before, just the after.
“Fuck you!” You snarl. “I am not leaving her! And if you won’t help me get her back, then I’ll—I’ll go back my fucking self!” For the first time since you’d met him, Ari actually looks angry at this, his eyes darkening beneath his furrowed brows. “If you don’t care about her—”
“I let Leah go back.” It takes you a moment to realize who he’s talking about, what he means. “I let Leah go back, and then I had to bury them both.” Ari’s hand is a pale, trembling fist on the bathroom sink. His next words are hoarse. “I didn’t know they made coffins so small.”
“Ari…”
“I care about Dove.” The words are heavy, and you hate that you know he means them. “We are going to get her back.” His eyes are shiny, but he doesn’t cry. “I fucking swear we will get her back, but you are not going to do that. Okay? You’re not.”
“You promise?” Your mouth trembles.
“I promise.” Ari wraps his pinky around yours, holding your entwined fingers up at eye level. “And you aren’t going back.”
“I-I won’t.”
“Promise.” His dark eyes burn so fiercely you want to look away. “Promise.” He repeats it firmly.
“I promise.”
And then he’s kissing you, cupping your chin with his good hand as he presses his lips desperately against your own. Your heart pounds in your ears as you go stiff in his arms. Ari breaks away, releasing you with a soft curse.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Mouse, I—I didn’t mean to do that, I just—” For once, he’s flustered, his cheeks ruddy beneath the shadow of his beard. Ari cards his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
The moment hangs between you in the air, held like a breath.
Your body stays tensed, like you’re ready to fight, or run, like it remembers Andy’s strict instructions. Except… Andy isn’t here to deliver them himself.
“It’s…” You don’t know what to say, hell, you don’t even know what you’re feeling. Everything is all mixed up, the emotions all biting the tails of the ones they’re chasing—you’re terrified, you’re exhilarated, you’re nauseous and scared and happy and—
“I’ll go. I should go.” Ari mutters the words more to himself than to you. You’re moving before you really mean to, leaning up on the tips of your toes to press a clumsy kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“I—I don’t want you to go.” With a sigh, Ari melts against you, resting his forehead against yours. You know you have done this before—many times, even just with Andy—but somehow there is a marked uncertainty as you lift your own hand to Ari’s face, stroking your thumb along his stubbled jawline. He hums, turning his face into your palm, and you feel the press of his lips.
Ari wraps his good arm around your waist, his fingers pressing into the meat of your hip through your pajama pants. His right arm flexes, his fist clenching and unclenches in the sling like he wants to move it, but he knows better. Instead, he buries his nose in your hair, the tips of his fingers creeping up beneath your t-shirt to stroke at your belly. You tense at his touch and then relax again, shivering.
“You tell me to go, I go.” Ari repeats softly, nosing down the side of your jaw. “I won’t be angry.” You look for the pool of cold dread that usually sits in your belly whenever Andy touches you, the reluctant fear that you stamp down to please him but find it entirely absent.
“You don’t have to make me happy, you don’t have to do what I want because I want it.” You have to stand on the tips of your toes to wrap your arms around Ari’s broad shoulders. There is undeniable excitement uncurling in your belly, warmth skipping under your skin at his touch. You want Ari to touch you.
“What if… it would make me happy?”
Ari huffs out a breathy laugh, his lips curving against your own. “That’s all I seem to want to do.” He takes your mouth again with a fervor that leaves you pleasantly breathless. Ari tangles his fingers in the curls at the nape of your neck, holding you still. His teeth tug at the weight of your lower lip and you gasp, opening for him. Ari tastes faintly of cinnamon sugar and something distinctly him that makes you shiver.
“Been wanting to do that for a goddamn week.” He sighs the words against your mouth. He smooths his hand down the back of your neck, tracing a gentle finger along the length of your spine. You don’t know you’re holding your breath until you release is as his palm skirts over the curve of your ass. He chuckles. “Is this okay?”
“Y-yes.” Ari palms your ass in response and you gasp, tangling your fingers in his over-shirt. It feels strange to be asked what you want, to even consider your own feelings as worth listening to. Andy tells you what to want, what to think, how to feel—Ari simply…allows you to be. Just as you are.
“I wanna touch you, Mouse,” he breathes. The admission sends a sharp bolt of electricity straight down your spine. “Can I?” You can’t avoid his eyes anymore, reluctantly meeting his gaze with your own. The words stick in your throat.
“You have to tell me, Mouse.” He strokes your trembling chin with the pad of his thumb. “I’m not him.”Andy always played at giving you choice, but you know Ari isn’t. That if you tell him to, he’ll walk away, and he won’t punish you for it.
You close your eyes hard, pressing the lids shut till they hurt. You don’t want to think about Andy right now, don’t want to think about Dove without you—you just want this. It feels like you have to reach down your own throat to find it, pulling your own voice up and out through your mouth with force.
“Please?”
Ari groans, plunging his hand into your loose sleep-pants to wrap around your thighs. He’s strong enough to lift you one-armed as you adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist as a reflex and he hums approvingly, his fingers sinking into the meat of your hips.
The hard planes of his body press against yours, and your face heats as you think of the new weight that has settled around your hips and belly, but Ari does not seem to notice its presence, his fingers skimming appreciatively along your skin. You can feel the bulge of his cock pressing against your core, and the breathy, surprised noise you make in the back of your throat at the feel of it prompts a chuckle.
Ari grips your hip hard as he takes a few long strides backwards until you feel cool tile beneath your back. He holds you there, pinned comfortably between his body and the wall as he grinds into you. He ruts against you with a groan. The thin, stretchy fabric between you offers little protection, considering, you can practically feel him throbbing through his zipper.
“See, Mouse?” He says lowly. “All for you.” Ari releases you, and your feet have barely touched down on the tile before he’s pulling at the hem of your t-shirt.
“Let’s take this off.” You nod, tugging it up over your head breathlessly, unaware of where it lands after Ari tugs it from your fingers. He drops to his knees, hooking a finger under the elastic band holding up your pajamas. You tense, remembering the last person who had been between your legs, but Ari grounds you, his lips brushing over the curve of your hip.
“Don’t.” His mouth moves softly against your skin. “Stay here. With me, right now. Don’t go anywhere else.” Ari peels the layers of clothing back from your skin, his hands roaming hungrily over each newly revealed inch. You step out of them and then quickly scoot off your socks. Ari looks up at you from between your thighs, making hard, heavy eye contact as he places a hand beneath your knee.
“Can I do this for you, Sweetheart? Can I make you feel good?” God, you want to let him. Everything’s out of you control—Andy, Dove, your whole life, but this? This is yours. This, you get to choose.
“Yes.” Even the act of consent feels unfamiliar. “I—I want to.” You don’t know how to describe the way you see the relief leave his body, his broad shoulders relaxing as he widens your stance, pushing your thighs apart till he can kneel between them properly. He squeezes the back of your thigh reassuringly before slowly lifting it to rest on his good shoulder. Ari holds your gaze as he leans forward to place a kiss on the chubby curve of your vulva through your cotton panties.
His mouth is warm and soft—reverent as he mouths at your swelling lips through the fabric. Ari strokes your hip as he catches the fabric with his teeth, before pulling it aside to marvel at your bare pussy. You want to look away but you don’t, your mouth dropping open as he delivers a sloppy kiss against your slick folds.
“O-oh,” the sound falls from your lips unbidden, and you feel his mouth curve against you. He pauses briefly to shrug out of his flannel, and dimly you are aware of the sound of his zipper before he’s back, his face thrust hard into the soaking place between your thighs. You mumble his name.
“Ari, Ari, Ari—”
He rolls the pearl of your clit against the roof of his mouth, circling your entrance with one finger. You press your head back against the tile, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. You do not remember threading your fingers through his hair, but as you tighten them, tugging, he moans, throaty and low. When you chance a look down, Ari is staring at you with lidded eyes. He flicks your clit sharply with the tip of his tongue, humming appreciatively as you jackknife.
“Go ahead and cum, Mouse,” he murmurs the words against your slick, twitching skin. “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know you need it.” One hand remains buried in Ari’s hair, tugging on it helplessly as the other scrabbles for purchase against the tile, looking for something—anything—to hold onto. You push against the hot water knob, and the pipes rattle as water rockets through them. You are tangentially aware of the spray of warm water from the shower head—but only barely. You whine helplessly, hips rolling against Ari’s face as you cum.
He presses the tip of his finger into your cunt, groaning at the feel of you, wet and swollen and sucking at him. He gently lowers your leg, and your trembling knees nearly buckle. You watch as Ari wraps his fist around his cock, pumping it slowly as he stares at the sticky, messy spot at the apex of your thighs. It’s thick, veiny like his forearms. He sweeps his thumb across the tip, spreading the dewy drop of precum gathered there.
Ari stands, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. From inside, he produces a wrinkled—but sealed—condom. He tears into the packet with his teeth before discarding it. He fumbles with one hand, nearly dropping it, but you help, gingerly pulling the condom from his fingers. Ari stands stock still as you roll it slowly down to the base before he grasps your chin, his mouth crashing against yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue.
This time when he lifts you, he uses the wall to leverage your weight, sinking you down slow as you lock your ankles behind his waist. Ari’s head lolls, his lips parting in a silent “o” as he draws his hips back, and then fully sheathes himself inside. The air in your lungs escapes in a sharp, needy whine.
“F-full.” You don’t even realize you’ve said it until Ari hums in agreement.
“Feels good, doesn’t it Mouse?” He breathes. “Shit, you’re squeezing me so nice,” he breathes, drawing back until your cunt is sicking at the tip of him before driving all the way back inside. You manage a nod, your hips rolling greedily into his.
“I-I—fuck—again—” The words don’t want to leave your tongue in any sort of sensible manner, but Ari understands them, grinning hungrily as he picks up the pace. He skims your clit with his thumb, and you can feel the sparks skittering up your spine and you gasp as he does it again and again—
“Come on, Sweetheart, you’ve got one more in there for me, don’t you?” He mutters, angling his hips up into yours as you writhe against him. “Wanna feel it on my cock—mmm, fuck—” You do, leaning forward to bury your face against his chest as you wail, your cunt clamping down around him like a fist. Ari curls his massive body over yours as he empties into you, his hips pressing softly against yours. He holds you there, his cock jerking and throbbing inside of you as he mumbles soft ‘mm’’s and ‘yeah, fuck yeah’’s into your hair until he’s done.
You stay like that, your body buzzing as the warm water streaming down over you. Eventually, when you can no longer feel the hammer of his heart against your cheek, he pulls out, and you press your lips together in embarrassed amusement at the crinkle of latex. He knots it off before tossing it into the trash bin. Your cheeks burn as Ari cleans between your legs, cupping your swollen cunt with an appreciative hum. He slides his fingers through the folds of your sticky sex, and your breath hitches.
“I’m just cleaning you up, Mouse, I promise.” He’s true to his word, there’s hungry, lustful intensity in his touches, only care. You str heady yourself against his shoulder, and your heart drops at the sight of his bandages. The center is tinged with a pink circle, and as you stare at it, it darkens a little.
“You’re bleeding.” Ari looks down at his shoulder and grimaces.
“Occupational hazard, Mouse. I’ll be fine.” He attempts to reassure you with a smile, but it doesn’t completely do away with the cold feeling in your belly.
“We’re going to need to change these, at least,” you say, fingering the edge of his wet bandage. “I think Zemo will be mad if we don’t.”
“He’s always mad.” Ari replies, and you laugh. “But yes. We’ll change them”
It somehow feels more intimate to stand there in the shower with Ari, slowly washing off the events of the last day and a half. He shampoos your hair, rubbing it in gently at the roots with the tips of his fingers. When you’re finally done, he helps you towel off, before producing a generic grey sweatshirt and pants from one of the cupboards after a bit of rummaging.
When the two of you return to the garage, dewy cheeked and differently clothed, Irene snorts.
“Had a good time, did you?”
—
Dove won’t stop crying.
Andy isn’t a bad father, he knows he’s not, but for some reason, he can’t get her calmed down. Her little fists are clenched tight, beating the air above her head with a frustration Andy as her father, cannot seem to quell. He bounces his daughter tiredly as he paces around the nursery, mumbling soothing baby speak as he rubs circles on her back.
She’s been wailing practically nonstop since Pronge had delivered her, his expression grim as he’d handed her over.
I couldn’t get your wife.
Andy had wanted to rage, then, and he almost had, itching to slam the whiskey glass in his hand into Robert’s face for the trouble—but Dove’s fussing had provided a sufficient reminder that it might not be appropriate to do so. She cries herself to sleep, hiccoughing in his arms until her breathing evens. Andy carefully lays her down in the crib, stroking his hand over the curve of her cheek. He closes the door to the nursery, and to his disgust, Robert Pronge stands in the hallway, the decanter of whiskey from his office held in his hand. He takes a swig from it.
“Who else was with her?”
Pronge grimaces. “Irene. And her new assistant. Fucker’s as big as a goddamn house. Name’s Ari Levinson, he owns some shithole bar.” Andy’s eyes narrow.
“Get out.” He shoulders past the killer in his hallway, not bothering to take back the bottle.
“And do what, exactly?” He sneers.
“Finish your goddamn job, and find my wife.” Andy waits to hear the sound of the front door before returning to his office. He’d had you—and you’d slipped right through his fingers again. You wouldn’t want to be apart from Dove, at least, that much he could be sure of. You’re a good mother, regardless of the doubts he knows he’ll have to plant in your beautiful head to get you to stay.
Ari Levinson.
The name is unfamiliar, and a search through both Massachusetts and New York state databases return no results. He does, however, get pings on basic search engines.
Ari Levinson. Dishonorable discharge, tried for murder, dismissed as self defense.
Now that is interesting.
It’s after midnight when he finally decides to turn in for the night, and as he closes his office door, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reaches for it, frowning at the unfamiliar number—but then his eyes widen at the caller I.D.
Albany.
“Hello?” At first, there’s only grainy silence on the other end, until finally, you speak.
“I’m ready to talk, Andy.”
He smiles. “Oh, Honey. I knew you would be.”
to be continued…
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
#cevans fic#cevans fandom#christ evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans fandom#chris evans fic#andy barber#andy barber x you#andy barber x reader#dark!andy barber#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson smut#ari levinson fic#ari levinson imagine#andy barber imagine#darkfic#dark!fic#return to sender fic#boxofbonesfic
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🩸 — 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍!
since the spooky season is fast approaching, and as a little kinktober appetizer, @psychedelic-ink and i have decided to do a little writing challenge to get us all excited and in the mood to be gripping the sheets from the spooky thrills of course.
and to keep this fun we have given you many many options! we have compiled a twelve day prompts list you can go by, or if that's not your thing we have listed twenty three different pick and choose options to create whatever kind of fic you want, even if you want to do half the days daily prompts but switch out this prompt dialogue for that au or trope or kink, you can literally do whatever your heart desires!
THE RULES.
the challenge will go on from the 19th - 30th of this month. you can do as many or as little amount of days as you choose.
any fandoms are welcome, literally any characters, ships, but please no rpf.
no minors should be interacting with let alone posting for this challenge.
dark content, light content, dubcon/noncon, is all welcomed but please tag everything accordingly. grooming, underage, and incest however are not allowed.
there are no word limits but please use that readmore.
tag #hauntedhoedown so we can read and reblog your work!
DAY ONE: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."
DAY TWO: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"
DAY THREE: inspired by your favorite lana del rey song (if not a lana fan then any fav song of yours) + stalker / yandere au or love triangle gone wrong
DAY FOUR: artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."
DAY FIVE: gothic au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.” + a masquerade au or a good ol' priest au
DAY SIX: animal shapeshifter au + "he's a monster" + "he's perfect"
DAY SEVEN: stranded au or slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)
DAY EIGHT: cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."
DAY NINE: “do you like it when i bleed for you?” + the toxic exes trope or cult au
DAY TEN: zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."
DAY ELEVEN: black swan au or inspired by your fav psychological thriller + “they die for love, you kill for it.”
DAY TWELVE: vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."
if following the above isn't your thing and you want to pick and choose yourself that's great! we also highly rec this random generator if you wanna live life by the edge, each category has 23 options to pick and choose from so customize the generator accordingly!
AUs:
steampunk / cyber punk
fairytale retelling
revenge
mythology / monster
virtual reality
gothic
taboo (see great options here)
slasher
game gone wrong
witchcraft
addams family
bonnie and clyde
spy / secret agent
assassins
x-files
circus / carnival
hitch hiking
basement wife
time travel
urban legend(s)
american horror story inspired
vampire / supernatural
pirate / mermaid
DIALOGUE PROMPTS:
"do you like when i touch you like this? i can keep going if you want me to."
"i can see how badly you want this, so i'm going to make sure you get it."
“this fear you feel? it won't last.”
“you are mine, whether you agree or not.”
“why do you keep following me?”
"i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together."
"you're not actually scared are you? of me?"
"i'm so close, can you feel it?"
"tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it, no matter the cost."
"you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left."
"i want to see you bleed."
"they're dead...because of you."
“i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”
“everything i've done.. every horrible atrocity, it's been for you.”
"it's just a little blood."
“don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”
“i would burn the world for you.”
"this is so fucked up." "you like it."
"finders keepers."
"what's your favorite scary movie?"
"tell me you want me back. tell me i'm forgiven."
"you're a monster." "that's never stopped you before."
"i've killed for you, who else can say that?"
TROPES:
mob / mafia
soft!dark
dubcon / noncon
soulmate / fated mates
mind control / telepathy
cheating
final girl
once is not enough
haunted manor
dark academia
enemies to lovers
haunted object
vengeful ghost
coven
ritual / sacrifice / blood magic
unrequited love
creation / creator vs monster
'i'll find you in every universe / century'
reverse harem
cursed / fuck or die
curiosity killed the cat
theatre phantom
fate worse than death
KINKS:
biting
corruption / authoritarian
somnophilia
begging
dacryphilia
breath play
knife play / blood play
jealousy / sharing / possessive
aphrodisiacs
hunter / prey
humiliation / degradation
mirror sex
deprivation / immobilized / bondage
costume
size
orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging
body worship
shotgunning / swallowing / facial
gagging
torture / surrender
hate sex / make up sex / phone sex
magical healing [redacted]
soft!dom / pleasure!dom
ETC PROMPTS:
a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right
1970s porno filming (turned into a blood bath)
touch her and die except who the hell are you and why are you obsessed with me?
a trip to the circus (or carnival) ends with you stuck there...forever
you just inherited this creepy mansion where people where murdered what could go wrong?
a ritual gone wrong and now i'm bound to a demon
if 'this person' ever found out about this they would kill both of us (literally)
oh no i'm dating the town serial killer
passionate professor tells me to prove my devotion to the craft / class by doing something insane
we're the last people on the planet and you will be mine
daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late
i got casted out of my world and ended up wounded and bloodied in your backyard, convince me why i shouldn't destroy your world out of anger
vampire has a taste for specific blood and looks like you have it
the creepy neighbor is too hot to be insane, right?
i keep seeing them in my dreams and i wake up with bruises and marks on my skin, it's definitely just wild dreams, right?
loving you is easier than hating you
got stranded in some little town that seems so cute, until night hits
'this person' ordered me to kill you but i actually think i'm in love with you
my lover is wearing the same costume as you and i can't tell the difference but i'm pretty sure it's them i'm fucking in this closet...pretty sure
confessing to a murder via a silly little ghost story around a campfire (but someone reads through the lies)
how far would you go for love? for the one you love?
in a past life you were the cause of my death so i'm here to exact revenge now that i've found you
we're at a fun little horror movie reenactment except people are really dying
we tried to make this writing challenge as fun and very 'choose your own adventure-like' as much as possible because we know how hard it is to stay motivated when doing these things.
so please feel free to use any and all of the prompts, tropes, kinks, etc as you wish. we're just super excited to see what ya'll come up with!!
so good luck and stay slutty spooky <3
#if yall don't participate in this i will actually cry lmao#haunted hoedown#writing challenge#kinktober#! challenges
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Two worlds apart | JJH (M)
Prince Jaehyun x maid fem reader, arranged marriage trope, forbidden love trope
Part 2.
Summary: Jaehyun can't stay away from you, even on his wedding night. And his new wife knows about the fondness you both have for each other, but is willing to rip it apart. However, the last thing Jaehyun wants is to be a part from you, for better or for worse. (This is based in 19th century england, regency era fashion bc i love bridgerton and used it for inspo for this fic.)
Warnings: sexual content, angst, unprotected (it's literally the 19th century), standing sex, infidelity, historically inaccurate but idc, proofread but there may be little mistakes here and there
Word count: 7,2k
Song recs: cool with you by new jeans
A/N: this was requested but I loved the idea so much that I had to write more than needed lmao. Wasn't intending to write smut for this but sometimes shit happens. Feedback is loved and appreciated as always 🩷🩷
"Jaehyun?"
You rubbed your eyes, voice groggy from just being woken out of your sleep. The prince was in the maid's quarters. Why was he in the maid's quarters? It was the night after his wedding and was spending it on one of his family's many estates, but why was he not spending his night with his new wife and looking for you?
"My grace, what are you doing–"
He pulled the covers off you quickly, wild eyes looking between you and the other maid that was fast asleep on the other side of the room. The oil lamp was bright, shining in your eyes in the pitch black room. "Come on," he said quietly, pulling you up from your bed.
You shook your head, trying to get away from him, but his grip was too strong. Before you knew it, you were out the door of your room and being pulled down the hall of the basement. "M-my grace, you shouldn't be doing this right now," you said, trying to remain calm as your heart basically beat from your chest.
"Y/N, I tried, I really did." Jaehyun led you up the stairs, looking around for any guards or any of his wife's staff.
His hold on your hand was strong as he sped walk through the hall, wanting to avoid the lurking eyes of anyone who might ruin his plans for the night. Jaehyun was the prince of Florin, a small but wealthy country. His whole life, he was mentally beaten with the responsibility of continuing the family line, marrying a princess from another country to join Florin and make it richer and more powerful. His parents were never in love, his mother only fulfilling her responsibility as a woman and bearing a child for the king.
His whole life he thought love wasn't a real thing, that's what his father told him anyway. "Love is weak. It makes you weak, and you can't be weak in a world where weakness gets you nowhere." He believed these words for a long time, never having a reason to care about anyone, or even himself. That was true until he met you. You were his first love, and possibly his last. Jaehyun couldn't even tell you when and why he loves you so much he just did and he wanted to be with you forever, but he knew that couldn't be. Both of you did.
You couldn't say you were in love with him, but you definitely fell first. Maybe it was his handsome face, regal demeanor, the way he carried himself. You didn't know. But what you did know is that your feelings crossed the line. You remember the first time he kissed you after making you confess your feelings, the smile on his face, the way he looked down at you in his fancy clothes. At that moment you knew you couldn't get yourself out of the hell hole you were in now.
You and Jaehyun have been flirting around for years, him always pulling you away from your responsibilities. He often snatched you from your duties in the kitchen, taking you into the pantry to kiss and talk to you. The other maids saw the way he looked at you, but never said a word about it. He would watch you around the castle, eyes lingering and never looking away even when they should. His parents knew how much he liked you, but never said anything. But one day, his mother did catch the both of you. She threatened to have your head on a stick, but Jaehyun convinced her it was all him and she let you stay.
Jaehyun pulled you to the back of the estate, opening the door as he walked you through the rain.
"My grace, it's storming. We shouldn't be out here," you shouted, covering your head as much as you could. Jaehyun didn't care about the rain, he didn't care about anything. He just needed to be alone with you.
Jaehyun didn't say anything, his face remained completely stone cold as he pulled you under the cabana a ways from his home. He stood in front of you, staring at your bewildered face. Your hair was wet, moist eyes shining in the moonlight. The fabric of your clothes were clinging to your skin, the now wet gown going see through.
You hadn't even noticed, but Jaehyun did. He was right to always be a gentleman, to never let his desires cloud his eyes, but goodness. Your chest looked so good through the fabric. However, he has to remain calm and collected. Jaehyun took a deep breath, gulping before speaking.
"I want to be with you Y/N."
You truly did not know what to say. He pulled you out of your bed in the middle of the night out into the rain just to tell you this? "My grace, is this what you woke me for?"
Jaehyun took your hands looking down at you, eyes shifting between your eyes and lips. "I don't want to be married to her Y/N." His eyes shook, grip on your hands getting tight. He needed to be near you, close to you. For the past couple of months, you were his world, his only concern. But being forced into a marriage with a woman he barely knew for a week crushed him. He knew he couldn't be with you, but it hurt nonetheless.
"We should not be out here. It is your wedding night and you should be with her right now," you said sternly. Jaehyun noticed the way you looked around frantically. You were scared of being caught again, he could tell.
"Don't be scared. There is no one out here on a stormy night like this," he said softly.
"But the queen– she'll kill me if she sees me. She'll kill you if she sees me. Jaehyun we cannot continue like this," you said, brows furrowing. You didn't want to see him in a loveless marriage. You cared for him too much, but you couldn't keep putting your safety on the line. You always felt like he didn't understand you. Jaehyun had always had everything his whole life, never having to live with fear of losing anything or anyone. Of course, his responsibilities as a prince were different from yours – you were just a poor maid after all. But he seems so oblivious to your life and what you do, and this is one of the moments when he thinks life is easy for you just as it is for him.
"My mother says a lot of things. You do not need to worry about her. Her threats are empty," he said with a small smile.
"My grace… you are very naive," you sighed. "I am not safe here. I am not safe with you."
Jaehyun's happy expression slowly fades after hearing your words. You weren't safe with him? "You'll always be safe with me," he said, letting go of your hands.
"We are from 2 different worlds. I can never be safe with you. Even if you shield me with armor, I still wouldn't be safe," you said, taking his hands softly. "Please don't make that face at me."
"I'm not making a face." Jaehyun looked angry and hurt. He couldn't even lie to you even if he tried being the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. But he wasn't hurt by your words, more so the fact that everything you said was true. "I love you Y/N."
You've heard him say he loves you many times, but never like this. This time wasn't like a lovestruck puppy, he said it with conviction. Jaehyun was seriously in love with you. You didn't say anything, the storm getting worse as the big rain droplets fell onto the roof of the cabana, filling the space. "My grace–"
"Please just say my name," he sighed. "Right now it's just you and me. Just say my name, there is no need for formalities."
"Jaehyun," you started, "you can't love me. You must love your wife in the house."
The words stung his heart like needles. The reality of this unwanted situation kept coming through the light over and over again. He did not want to be with anyone that wasn't you and he knew he was in too deep. Just look at him – in the rain with you and not consummating his marriage with his now wife. He hated himself for falling so deeply for you, but was addicted to the fuzzy feeling in his heart, the butterflies in his stomach when he saw you. He wanted it all the time.
"Do you love me?"
You always pushed the thought of loving him to the back of your mind knowing it would get you nowhere, but at the moment, maybe you really did. You would never tell anyone how badly his marriage hurt you, watching him be wedded to a woman he barely knew for a week and expected to have a child with her. It was supposed to be you. In another world or another life it would've been you. But there's no point in suppressing your feelings anymore, not when his pretty brown eyes are looking at you like you're his whole world.
"Jaehyun, I cherish you alot," you answered, not wanting to confess yet. "I'll always cherish you."
"I..I want to be a good husband to her, but I don't think I can," he said. "I don't want to be like my father and have a mistress, I don't think I can live without you."
You hadn't realized you were crying until Jaehyun reached a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb.
"Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry," he said softly. Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, kissing your forehead.
"I'm tired Jaehyun," you sighed. You didn't want to talk anymore. The more you talked, the more you wanted to cry in his arms. You already had a long stressful day doing whatever task you had to do, so you would rather not create more stress for yourself. "You have a ball tomorrow, and I have to help set it up and help your– my princess."
Jaehyun gulped, reluctantly letting your hands go. Nodding, he took a step back. He did have a ball that he completely forgot about. Instead of getting rest, he was out in this stormy weather with you. "I understand. We will talk again tomorrow."
"Jaehyun–"
"We will talk again tomorrow," he repeated, tone dominant and a bit loud cutting you off.
You shook your head at his persistence. "Fine. We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, your grace.
"Goodnight." Jaehyun watched you run off into the rain, covering your head as much as you could to protect yourself from the rain. He wished he could just run away with you far from this place, this country, the palace. But for now all he could do was whisper the words he meant dearly as you ran.
"I love you."
"And are all the decorations ready?"
"Yes, your grace."
"And the invitations have been sent out?"
"Of course your grace."
Princess Rose stood tall as you pulled and tightened her corset, disposition remaining unphased as the garment squeezed her waist without warning. She was beautiful. Many people said she may be the most beautiful woman in the world. When you first met her, you wondered how long it would be until Jaehyun fell out of love with you. Her skin was as clear as a lake, eyes big and brown, body made of soft curves. Her smile lit up a room, but even with her image, Rose demanded respect and power anywhere she went. The perfect princess. The perfect queen.
She cleared her throat, making you glance up to look at her through the mirror. You almost stopped breathing realizing she was staring at you through the reflection, face stone cold. "Everyone out. Except you miss Y/N. You stay."
You tie the string tight in a bow, removing your hands from her body as soon as you are done. All of the other women in the room left in a hurry, not turning back to even get a glimpse of you or her.
The door shut, a loud echo making its way around the room. Rose turned around, her beauty becoming even more evident in the sunlight that peeked through the curtain. You stood there, hands folded in front of you as the both of you stood in silence. Rose looked you up and down, blonde brows scrunching as her mind raced with thoughts.
"I'm not jealous of you, you know," she said, breaking the silence.
You stared back at her confused. Jealousy? Where did that come from? "Jealous? I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean my grace," you said softly.
"I mean I'm not jealous of you," she repeated, a small smile tugging at her lips. But this wasn't a normal smile, it was condescending. "I was told that the prince and I would have some issues to work through in the early days of our marriage but I had no idea that said issue would be his very obvious relationship with his maid."
You stood there completely still. She knew. She knew about you and Jaehyun. Was it last night that she found out? Or did she see something the week she was in the country? You and Jaehyun had been so careful, or at least you tried to be. Jaehyun never cared as much as you did. "Let them find out. I don't care," he would always say.
"Calm down, you looked like you've seen a ghost," she said, laughing dryly. "It's alright that you and him have a secret relationship. I find it cute."
Your once shocked expression slowly turned hard, jaw clenching at the tone of her words. Cute? You didn't like that she called what you and Jaehyun had cute, especially not in that belittling tone. "Are you going to punish me for it?"
Rose suddenly burst into laughter hearing your question, her pretty smile making your stomach turn. "No. Why in the 7 seas would I do that," she said between giggles. "I don't care that he loves you and that you love him. In fact, I'm happy for you. It's hard for the poor to find happiness."
You winced at her statement. So this is what she was really like. Underneath the money, fame, clothes, face, body, she was just like every other royal you ever met. It wasn't surprising, but you didn't think she would shed her skin so quickly.
"I thought he would at least have some sense last night to consummate our marriage." The smile faded from her face, now being replaced with irritation. "A marriage means nothing if you can't produce an heir."
She was right, and it hurt you that she was right. Deep down you wanted all these things with him. The wedding, the wedding night, the honeymoon, the ball – just all of it. It was starting to feel like the princess was throwing all these things you couldn't have in your face. Rose took a step forward, looking at you deep into your eyes with an emotion you couldn't read.
"I know his mother must've caught the two of you at some point," she said quietly. "I'm not his mother, so there is no need to be scared of me."
You let out a small sigh of relief, but the small positive feeling was completely crushed under her feet. "But one thing about me is that I strive to be the best person possible at all times. I will be the best princess, queen, and wife. And the last part doesn't consist of you being with him within these walls."
"So what are you saying?"
Rose squinted her eyes at your sudden drop of honorifics, frown tugging on her lips. "Jaehyun is a very stubborn man, I'm sure you know this. Unless you release him from this mental anguish, he will never be happy, and I'm sure you want him to be happy don't you?"
You did want him to be happy. The only thing you ever wanted from him was to be happy. And your life has taught you that sometimes happiness takes sacrifice. "So you're saying that you want me to end things with him?"
"I knew you were smart," she said with a slight nod. "End things tonight. If you don't, just know things will be painful for the both of you from this point on. Now, do me a favor and let everyone back in."
You hurried to the door, opening it quickly. The other maids all walked back in a hurry, continuing what they were doing like they never stopped. Rose turned around, moving her hair to the front. You've never been more excited to work more than right now. All you wanted to do is delete the conversation you just had from your mind but it weighs heavy.
You have to do it tonight. You have to end things.
All you could hope is that he doesn't make it harder for you.
-
You stood in Jaehyun's office, the lamp softly brightening the space. It smelled of oak wood and lavender, two of his favorite smells. It was such a small space, completely closed off from the rest of the mansion. His office was his favorite place to be. It offered him lots of privacy especially in these days of high stress. He couldn't stand being pestered with all his royal duties, running away from everyone almost immediately.
You stood in the middle of the room, hands toying with the waist of your apron. You were on cooking duty for the rest of the night, so you were covered in all kinds of food and powders. Jaehyun was supposed to be outside with friends, family, acquaintances , her, but the moment he saw the note from you to come to his office he dropped everything to be there.
The music was blaring through the windows, all you could hear and see were expensive people drinking expensive wine in the most expensive clothes. It was traditional for the bride and groom to just simply be on a honeymoon by now, but because this was a special occasion of joining 2 kingdoms, there was a ball for the night.
You jumped, turning around instantly when the door opened. There stood Jaehyun in the most gorgeous suit you've ever seen. This was going to be very hard for you. Your heart pounded right out of your chest excited to see him but saddened with the thought of breaking his heart.
"I got your note," he said, walking up to you. Jaehyun looked you up and down, a smirk on his face at your messy appearance.
"Don't look at me like that," you said, face growing hot.
A deep chuckle erupted from his throat as he stepped to you, placing a hand on your waist. "I think you look very pretty tonight."
You didn't want to blush but you did, he was far too nice especially when you were covered in food, practically smelling like a bakery. "You should be saying that to your wife."
Jaehyun frowned, sighing at your response. "I did, but she didn't appreciate it as much as you did." He loved your shy, timid attitude. He loved the way you would look at the floor when you were embarrassed or nervous, like you were doing right now.
"J-jaehyun, we cannot continue this," you spoke softly. You needed him to listen to you, but you could tell he wasn't. The man was too busy staring at your lips, eyelids getting heavier the more he stared at you. "We cannot keep seeing each other like this. You are married now and-"
"Please. Can we not talk about this right now," he said softly.
"No. We have to." You removed his hand from your waist, but all he did was put both of them back. At this point, you were internally panicking. Knowing yourself, you can't become assertive with him. Every little touch, look, mention sent you into a spiral. "I want you to be happy and I'm sure you want to be happy. I don't want you to be miserable because of me."
Jaehyun pulled you closer to him gently, staring down into your eyes. "As long as you're around me, I won't be miserable." Jaehyun took your chin gently, tilting your head to look at him. You begin to feel yourself melt into his touch, resolve slowly melting away as he leans in. But you quickly regain your mind, shaking your head as you remove his hand.
"No. I will not do this. I will not be your mistress," you declared, stepping away from him.
Jaehyun stared at you without saying a word, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He knew you better than yourself at this point. When you were nervous or hiding something you would bite the inside of your cheek. Something definitely happened that he didn't know about, and he wants to find out.
"And why not," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve a marriage full of love and happiness and I don't intend on stopping that," you said. You could tell he wasn't listening to you since again, eyes trailing up and down your fully covered body.
"Fine."
Fine. Is that it? "Fine? Is that all you have to say?"
"Yes. I agree. I deserve to be happy."
You didn't understand, lashes fluttering in confusion. It was safe to say that you were a bit hurt, his soft stare turning intense, hands never leaving his front. But nonetheless, you nodded despite not wanting to and gathered your dress in your hands. Walking quickly to the door, you grabbed the knob when he spoke again.
"I don't want you to leave," he said.
You gulped, still turning the knob in silence.
"I said I don't want you to leave." Jaehyun's soft tone switched into a deep dark one, walking up to the door, holding it shut with force. He clearly shocked you and watched you remove your hand from the knob startled. Jaehyun had a million things going on through his mind at the moment, all of them having to do with you. "You aren't being yourself. I want you to tell me why."
"What are you talking about," you said quietly, not knowing if you were going to upset him or not.
"I'm saying that there is something you aren't telling me about and that's why you told me to come here tonight."
You couldn't tell him. Not tonight. Maybe another day or night where his reputation isn't solely based on the way he looks at his new wife. You know how he can be when angry, living and taking care of him and his family for many years now. Jaehyun is horrible at hiding facial expressions, even worse when he has to speak. His words have a bite to them, attitude on full display. You didn't want to ruin his night, be the blame for another reason he won't be happy in the future.
"I don't know what you're implying." You placed your hands behind your back, nerves now affecting your once still hands. You were shaking. This situation was a bit dire. You were only a maid, now being stuck in the middle of relationship politics you wanted nothing to do with. Jaehyun was growing ever more irritated with your persistence claiming there was nothing wrong. You looked like you saw a ghost, eyes continuously shifting between him and the window behind him.
Jaehyun likes to think he was a man of great intuition, always able to read people well. He knew right away it had something to do with Rose. "Did she say something to you?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Rose," he said, making himself more clear. "Did she say something to you? Does she know about last night?"
You didn't answer, but your silence was everything he needed. He was angry, face turning red, lips pursing into a thin line. You've seen him mad, but never this mad. He was a smart man, but very impulsive, so when you saw him reach for the doorknob, your heart stopped for what felt like a million years.
"Please don't," you choked out, looking at him with pleading eyes. "We don't need to make this harder than it already is."
"I will not allow anyone to make any threats towards you, especially not on my property," he growled angrily through gritted teeth. Jaehyun grabbed the knob about to turn it, but stopped feeling your hand on his.
"Stop. Just stop." Your voice cracked, tears on the verge of spilling over. "This is why I agreed to do this. I don't want this, Jaehyun."
"Agreed to do what? Tell me. I demand it." His voice boomed through the room. You were certain people outside the window could hear him, like always he didn't care.
"Rose talked to me today in her room," you said, wiping your tears and sniffling. "She said to end things with you."
"And you agreed?"
"Because I had to," you sobbed. "I just want you to be happy. I don't want to be the reason you can't be happy. I don't want to be your mistress, I want to be your world, but if I have to give that up, I will."
Tears spilled down your face, hot and heavy as you cried. Jaehyun was still angry, but his expression softened as he watched you cry. The man wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. No one has ever cried for him like this. No one has ever cried because of him like this. Jaehyun starts to feel the weight of the situation and regrets all his last actions. Nothing he has said or done has been in an effort to figure any of this out while you're left with the burden.
"It's okay Y/N. I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking your hair gently as he kissed the top of your head. "I'll never let anyone or anything come between us. I don't care what it takes."
You looked up at him, brows furrowing in worry. "But Jaehyun-"
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes. Of course I do."
"Do you love me?"
Yes, I love you. You said the words in your head, but you couldn't get them out. "I.. I.."
Jaehyun sensed your worry, moving his hands to your face, cupping you by both of your cheeks. "I need you to forget about everything that happened today. Forget about whatever she said to you. Just tell me one thing. Tell me if you love me."
"I do love you," you answered sniffling. "I love you Jaehyun."
He wished he could contain the feeling that swelled in his heart finally hearing you say those words but he couldn't, smirk plastered on his face as he wiped your tears with his thumbs softly. Even when you were crying, you were so pretty. He admired you in the silent room, the sound of people chatting and the string instruments being played outside filling the air.
You wrapped your arms around him, huffing his body tight. Jaehyun didn't mind that all the flour was getting on his clothes. He didn't care, as long as you were okay. But Jaehyun wasn't perfect even though he was a prince, he was only just a man.
As much as he hated seeing you sod and cry, there was a tiny voice in the back of his head going on and on about how pretty you were with tears down your face. Your shiny, wet eyes looking up at him wide, brows furrowed. You and Jaehyun had been close before hugging each other or kissing each other when you got the chance, but you've never been close. Jaehyun thought about it all the time, the thought of you pressed against him, hands molding your skin like dough and touching you anyway he wanted. not just telling how much he loves you but showing you.
He was so deep in thought that he never realized that you were staring up at him. "What are you thinking about," you asked softly.
"Just you. Only you." Before you could respond, he leaned down cupping your face as he kissed you deeply. You didn't expect it, stumbling against the wall a bit. Your back was pressed against the wall as Jaehyun pressed his body against yours, lips never leaving yours as he kissed you over and over again. You and Jaehyun have kissed many times, but nothing like this. When he kissed you before, it was sweet and innocent, but this time it's hot and desperate. You've never seen him act this way,
"Jaehyun wait," you painted softly, pulling away from the kiss. Your words went right through him, lips going right to your neck when you pulled away. You grasped his clothed arms being completely taken back by how fast everything was moving.
"I love you Y/N," he said against your neck. "I love you to the moon and back. Just let me show you how much I love you." Jaehyun locked lips with yours once again, almost knocking the air out of your lungs as his hands slid onto your back, undoing the tie that held your apron on your waist.
Placing your hands on his shoulders, you held him close, lips molding with his slowly as he let the fabric drop. Jaehyun's hands moved up your body slowly, cupping your chest through the top of your dress. This sensation was new to you, his touch barely there but you could still feel his fingertips pressing against your nipples. Your hands fell slowly from his shoulders onto his chest, wanting to just take off his jacket, but you were so nervous.
"Don't be nervous, okay," he whispered, taking your hands in his. You hadn't realized it yet, but you were shaking. You opened your eyes only to see him looking at you with the purest expression. "Let me take care of you."
He let go of your hands, placing them on your chest as his fingers toyed with the buttons on the front. You watch him, buttons coming undone one by one in what felt like forever. In this day and age, there are so many layers of clothing before you can see someone's skin. Jaehyun usually becomes irritated with these circumstances, but for some reason they were all the more exciting for him. You on the other hand just wanted to get it over with, anxiety taking over your mind as your thoughts jump from one thing to another.
Jaehyun pulled the sleeves off your shoulders, helping you remove your arms out of the grasp of the fabric. Your dress finally fell from your body. Jaehyun gazed at your figure, you being in nothing but a slip and corset. You were beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he ever laid his eyes on. "You're so perfect," he sighed, a small smirk on his face.
"Please Jaehyun," you whined quietly. Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, kissing you softly. Jaehyun made quick work of his coat, taking it off and throwing it in the chair next to the fireplace. Next went his waistcoat, lips now moving against yours feverishly. He pulled away for just a second to look at you, but smiled to himself as he watched you fumble with your corset.
"Do you want me to help you with that," he muttered.
You gave him a silent nod as you turned around. Jaehyun skillfully helped you, chuckling to himself. "What's so funny," you asked.
"I just love you so much. That's all," he answered. "I never thought I'd get this close to you."
You smiled to yourself, nodding at his words. "You're so sentimental, it's endearing."
A soft deep chuckle erupted from him, making you shiver. He loosens up the strings and helped you out of the constraining under garment. "I hope I'm still endearing when my cock is inside you." Jaehyun could tell how flustered he made you when he turned you around. You couldn't contain your emotions, palms clinging to your slip as you stared at your feet. "Don't get shy on me now. I want you to watch me. Can you do that?"
You looked up, watching him unbutton his shirt. You have always tried to be the best maid possible, but that never stopped you from having fantasies about him. You always thought about what he would look like under his shirt, or what he would look like on top of you. Now that it's about to happen, there are too many emotions flowing through you at once. One of them was excitement, his chiseled toned body against the dim light of his office, the way he looked at you as he let the shirt off his arms and onto the floor behind him.
"You must really want me don't you?" He took your waist, holding you tight. Jaehyun felt better than he did all day hearing pleasured sighs leave your lips, brows knitting at the feeling of his strong grasp.
"Do you know how pretty you look right now? How pretty you sound when you gasp like that?" Jaehyun began hiking your slip up, watching you gulp, the dress getting shorter and shorter below you. "I will never let anyone take you from me. You're mine, all mine."
"All yours," you whispered, nodding as his fingers trailed from your stomach to right above your soaking wet core. "Please touch me."
Jaehyun obliged, teasing you as his fingers ghosted right above your clit, softly gliding them in the sensitive bud. He watched you, eyes glossed in pleasure as your body twitches, haven't felt this feeling in a while. "So pretty," he whispered, rubbing the bud slowly. "Every part of you."
Soft sweet moans filled his ears as he touched you, gulping as you held onto his arms. Your eyes shut, taking in the pleasure he was giving you.
"Does it feel good?"
"Y-yes," you moaned quietly.
"Look at me my love." Jaehyun's cock jumped in his pants when you did as he asked. You even follow directions perfectly, it's unbelievable. He maintained eye contact with you as he began to rub you faster, evoking whines from your throat. Your nails dug into his skin, not hard enough to scratch it though.
"Jaehyun," you whimpered softly. "M-more, please."
Jaehyun nodded fast, heart growing tender at your cute pleading. He moved from your clit to your wet entrance, fingers rubbing and tracing the hole. Jaehyun slowly pushed his fingers into you, the long thick digits giving you the stretch that you needed. You threw your head back slightly, resting it on the door as you moaned.
"Oh God.." You were already squeezing around his fingers before he started moving them. But you had to hold out, this could be the first and last time you got to do this with him.
"I love you so much," he muttered against your neck as he started pumping his fingers in you slowly. The noises coming from you were astonishing, the slow sounds of your wet cunt bouncing off the walls. Your expression and moans made his cock rock hard, all he wanted to do is make you cum.
You leaned in, kissing him deeply as he moved his fingers in you. "Feels so good," you whispered against his lips. You closed your eyes, lips still ghosting above his as you pant into his mouth.
He sped up his hand, fingers digging deeper into you as he thrusted them fast. The friction of his fingers set your body on fire, hands gripping his arms hard. "You're so beautiful like this, melting into my hands. Do you know how much I've thought about this moment?"
You could barely hear him though he was right in front of you, brain not being able to concentrate due to the feeling between your legs. Your soft whines and moans filled the air, quiet cries of his name falling from your lips. Jaehyun pressed you against the door even more using his other hand to lift your leg to thrust his fingers deeper in you.
"Oh my god," you whimpered, clinging to his body.
"I know, darling. I know it feels good," he cooed in your ear. "I want you to make a mess of my fingers."
You were now grinding on his hand, clit lightly brushing against his palm driving you to your orgasm with every movement of your hips. Your whines were getting louder in pitch, but you tried to hide it, being right behind the door. Anyone could walk past and hear you, and you really didn't want that to happen, but Jaehyun didn't care anymore. He didn't care about anything but you at the moment.
"Lose yourself. It's just me and you and no one else. Cum in my hand." His deep raspy voice guided you to your first orgasm in a while, squeezing around his fingers tight as you moaned into his neck.
"J-jaehyun," you whimpered. He kept pumping his fingers in you as you came, making the leg you were balancing yourself on shake. Growing impatient, Jaehyun stopped fingering you, slowing down his fingers and pulling them out of you slowly.
"I need to be inside you, Y/N. Do you want that," he questioned, resting his forehead on yours.
"Yes. Yes, I need you," you said breathlessly. You kissed him, cupping his face as he kissed you back. The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, tongues dancing with each other as he undid his pants, fingers skillfully undoing the buttons.
"Let's get this off of you, hm?" Jaehyun lifted your slip, motioning his head for you to put your arms up. You obliged, easing them above your head allowing him to take the undergarment off of you. You kicked off your shoes right after making him smile to himself. Jaehyun couldn't keep his eyes off your body. He dropped the fabric to the floor, hands attaching to your body like a magnet. You let out soft gasps at every touch, squeeze, pinch he gave you, his hands all over you for the first time. Your skin was so soft, every scratch or scar lighting a flame in him. Even your imperfections were beautiful.
"You feel so good in my hands," he muttered, making you smile to yourself.
"I like the way your hands feel on me," you say, kissing him softly. You let out a small sigh as he moved his hands from your ass to your chest, watching as he leans down, mouth attaching to your nipple. Licking and sucking your nipples all while squeezing the flesh in his plans, maintaining eye contact with you as he plays out the sinful actions you dreamt of.
"God I can't wait any longer," he mumbled. Jaehyun kissed up your chest to your neck and jawline, finally making it to your lips, biting your bottom lip softly. "I need you to take all of me, but you have to be quiet."
He placed one hand on the bottom of your back and used the other to lift your leg. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as he took his cock, rubbing the tip between your legs slowly.
"I can be quiet," you muttered in his mouth. "Quiet as a mouse."
"That's my girl." Jaehyun lined himself with you, slowly pushing himself in your wet entrance. A soft sigh fell through his lips, the warmth of your wrapped around him. He wanted this for so long to feel close to you, to be this close to you.
"My god," you whined, fingers running through his hair. You let out soft moans every time he thrusted in you, deep and slow. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back against the door taking in the pleasure he was going to you. But Jaehyun kept his eyes open, staring at your pretty face, listening to your pretty moans as he rocked his body into you. His grip on his leg gets tighter the deeper he thrust into you, fingertips digging into your skin.
Jaehyun wouldn't be surprised if there were people running around looking for him right about now. He's been in this room with you for almost an hour, leaving his new wife to look for you. Not even he himself would've guessed he'd be deep inside you right now, fucking you on the door where anyone could come buy and easily tell what was happening behind it. He'd always been reckless, but at this rate he didn't care. Everyone in the world was trying to keep you away from him, and he had enough. If you had to crash and burn for loving him, you were going to take him with you whether you wanted to or not.
Jaehyun's face was now in the crook of your neck, groaning softly against your skin as he kissed it softly. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. "So perfect, I love you so much."
"I-I love you," you whimpered softly, brows furrowing feeling him thrust harder. "Oh my god, don't stop."
And he didn't. He kept going, hand leaving your back and moving to your hip. You haven't felt this good in ages, almost completely forgetting about the kind of situation you were in, until there was a knock on the door.
"Prince Jaehyun? Are you in there," a guard called out. More voices were heard from outside the door, footsteps all over the hallway.
Jaehyun halted his movement for a second, glancing at you who was making a panicked expression. "Quiet," he mouthed. Jaehyun started thrusting in you, staring at you intensely. He was lost in the sight of you, your head falling back, jaw dropping in pleasure once again. You felt so fragile at the moment, so vulnerable under him.
"You're doing so well for me, beautiful," he whispered.
"Am I," you whispered with a small smile.
Jaehyun nodded as he kissed you. You immediately moaned into his mouth, making him go faster. At this point you were far too gone, you were going to cum all over him once again. "I'm so close, my prince," you moaned breathlessly.
My prince. Those words sounded so good coming from you. So pure, innocent, loving. He would love to be yours forever. "Me too Y/N."
He kept going, ignoring the knock on the door once again. He just wanted to make you feel good. Jaehyun swallowed hard, face back in the crook of your neck feeling you flutter around him.
"Jaehyun, I'm cumming," you whimpered, trying to keep your voice as low as possible. You came on him, orgasm so hard you saw stars as you screwed your eyes shut.
But Jaehyun kept going, his orgasm getting closer and closer. He should pull out of you. He should really pull out. But self control is not his strong suit. The both of you are so wrapped up in the amazing feeling that when Jaehyun cums inside of you, you didn't even feel it. All lines become blurry, nothing makes sense, the room is just hot and stuffy filled with the smell of sex.
That's when it hits you.
"Jaehyun, what did you just do?"
#nct#nct u#nct 127#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct x reader#nct oneshot#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct jaehyun#jaehyun#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun fanfic#jaehyun oneshot#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun smut#nct 127 smut#nct 127 imagines
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Fabled Memories
—Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Summary: You wake up one evening, battered and bruised, but have no recollection of how it came to be.
Warnings: implied kidnapping, basement wife vibes, amnesia & character death. There may be more, but remember that this is a dark fic, so please tread carefully.
A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's Week Three Challenge: Something New and the trope I chose was Amnesia and Basement Wife. I've always wanted to write something that had the basement wife element and the thoughts just kept brewing. Plus, I've been antsy to write Steve again.
p.s. I may turn this into a mini-series.
Your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated. Support content creators! And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️
The silence that fills the cafe is a welcome respite after dealing with the onslaught of impatient customers during the morning rush hour. It’s already half past eleven when you glance down at your watch, taking it as a cue to wipe down on the counter and fill the machine with the coffee beans to prepare for the second wave of patrons for the lunch rush.
While stacking the display case with pastries and sandwiches alike, you hear the bell chime and recite on instinct your customer service spiel.
“I hope I can trouble you for a cup.” The familiar voice echoes in your ears and you look up, surprised to see Steve Rogers on the other side, smiling at you when your eyes meet.
“You’re early today, Captain.” You tell him and immediately make quick work of his usual order; a brewed coffee with two sugars and one cream. “You don’t usually stop by til after noon.”
“Yeah—well, Tony called in for a meeting today.” He huffs his response, propping his hand on his waist while the other rests on the counter, fingers drumming against the marble surface. “Wanted to discuss something about proper etiquette for the gala this coming Friday.”
That makes you snort, Steve looking at you curiously when you snap the lid on the cup and place it down on the counter. He looks at you expectantly and you shake your head instead, standing by the register to ring up his order.
“What is it?” He urges, though gently, amusement painting on his face as he keeps his eyes on you. “You’re laughing at what I said.”
“I’m not laughing.” You say in defense but the Avenger only raises an eyebrow in question. So you cave, “It’s just funny thinking Mr. Stark would be talking about proper etiquette when the videos scattering online suggests otherwise. No offense to him though.”
He laughs and so do you. “No offense taken, doll. Even Sam thinks the same.” The pet name still puts you off but you’ve gotten used to it over the year of making him his coffee. He slides a hundred to you after giving him his total and you count up his change. “Oh, you keep the change. You should know by now that I don’t take it.”
“I—” You stare at the bills in your hand before looking back at him. “But this is a little too much, Captain. I couldn’t possibly—”
“Of course you can. It’s a tip and you deserve it.” He smiles and takes the paper cup from the countertop, raising it up to you. “You make my coffee better than any of Stark’s fancy cappuccino machines and besides, I want to help you get that car you wanted.”
“Oh—you remembered that?”
“How can I not?” He leans closer. “You kept talking about it and the way your eyes sparkled when you did just told me that you wanted it so bad.”
You chuckle and give him a smile. “I already got it actually. My husband—he got it for me as an anniversary pr—Oh god!”
You gasp and take a sudden step back when his coffee bursts in his hand, immediately making your way to the back to grab the mop and walking to where he stands to clean up the mess. But your eyes widen and you feel an unexpected chill run up your spine when you see the discarded paper cup on the floor, crushed.
“I’m so sorry,” Steve apologizes in a rush, waving him off when he tries to take the mop from you. “I guess I didn’t know my own strength.” He blurts out and you try to keep your cool as you busy yourself with the task, picking up the cup from the ground and heading back to the counter to discard it in the bin.
“It’s alright.” You breathe, trying to keep the growing nervousness at bay. “Accidents happen. Let me make you a new one. On the house.” You tell him and quickly turn to make a fresh cup before he could even say anything.
The comfortable silence from earlier turns a new leaf, feeling an uncertain tension building around the both of you and making you move at a measured pace. You feel Steve’s eyes burning the back of your head and you fight to dismiss the unease, convincing yourself that it was indeed an accident. The serum couldn’t be that perfect, right?
“You never mentioned you were married.” His tone is calm yet somewhat accusatory, your fingers shaking as you add the sugar to the brew. “I never even saw you wearing a ring.”
“I—I’m not allowed to wear it during my shift.” You explain matter of factly, forcing a smile when you snap the lid and turn to face him. “Sanitation and all.”
“I see,” He nods and takes the cup when you hold it out to him, his fingers brushing against yours, lingering before he pulls away. “Well, your husband is one lucky bastard to have a pretty thing like you as his wife.” You can’t help the blush that creeps up your neck from the compliment.
You look to the door when the bell suddenly chimes, several of the working class customers lining up behind Steve while they look up at the menu to decide on their order.
“I guess I should let you go.” His serious tone is gone, replaced by a cheerful one yet you feel that his words mean so much more than just leaving the cafe. “I’ll see you around, doll.” He says with finality with another of his friendly smiles before turning to leave but not without the customers stopping to ogle him as he walks past the door.
You don’t see Steve for a week and you don’t want to admit it but you find his absence a relief. Your last encounter with him was awkward, something unusual for he seems to always be cool and collected when he comes over and gets his usual order. You’d dare to even say that the both of you are more than acquaintances with how much you’ve shared with each other while he waits for his coffee.
Even Caleb, your husband, is jealous that you get to meet the great Captain America—with him being a fan of the Avengers like they were movie stars. It did give you the idea of asking Steve if he could meet your husband, a small surprise you’re planning for his coming birthday. Though you’ll wait til he comes back and you just hope that by then, the tension between the both of you has completely subsided.
“Hey there, I’m looking for a pretty girl who works here. Answers to ‘my love’ and sometimes ‘Mrs. Stinky Butt.’” You turn your head as you lock the shop doors, laughing at Caleb's commentary before smiling when you see the bouquet of sunflowers nestled in his arms.
“I think she prefers ‘my love’ more, Mr. Stinky Butt.” You retort and greet your husband with a hug, humming softly when he plants a soft kiss on your lips and wraps an arm snuggly around your waist. “What are the flowers for?” You ask before leaning over and taking a whiff of their scent.
“Well, it has been a while since you did a closing shift and I know how tough it can be,” He begins, “So—I thought of a night full of activities to pamper my gorgeous wife so you can start your day tomorrow fully relaxed.”
You hum in thought while walking with him to your car. “I’m listening.”
“Okay, so the flowers were first and it has already succeeded.” He says proudly and you chuckle at the wide grin he gives you. “There is a delicious take out dinner waiting for you at home—”
“Number Nine?” You ask in anticipation.
“The very one,” He confirms and you bounce in excitement before urging him to continue. “I also got us some face masks we can indulge in and we can end the night with popcorn and a movie of your choosing.”
“Even the sappy romantic ones?”
“Especially the sappy romantic ones.” Caleb says and you quickly wrap your arms around him tightly, feeling your heart grow full with love for the man you call your husband. “Whoa—hug attack!” He exclaims and you laugh when he wraps his arms around you just as tight and spins you around.
“Thank you, Babe.” You breathe when he sets you down, basking in the warmth of his embrace as the night breeze surrounds the both of you. “You’re the best.”
“No. You are—” He retorts before nuzzling his nose against yours. “And the best only deserves the best.”
You watch the scenery of the night as you stare out the window, unconsciously lifting the flowers to your nose to take in their scent once again. A smile kisses your lips when you feel Caleb’s hand rest on your thigh but wonder why they feel tense. Slowly, you reach down and take his hand in yours, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles before turning in your seat to face him.
“You have your seatbelt on, baby?” He asks, his voice strained as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Tell me you’re strapped in. Please.” He urges.
“I am—” You answer, feeling nervous when he only gives you a quick glance before turning back to face the road. “Is something wrong?” The way his grip tights around the wheel has your heart beat spiking. “Caleb?”
“I’m going to tell you something but you have to promise me that you won’t freak out, okay?” His voice is calm yet you can tell he’s nervous all the same. “Promise me, babe. I need you to stay calm and listen carefully.”
“I promise.” You choke out, your hand tightening on his fingers. “I’ll be calm.”
“Okay—I need you to call 911 and tell them we’re at the freeway on 71.” He starts, “Tell them that you’re in the car with your husband and that the breaks are not working.”
“What?!” You gasp and drop the flowers to the floor. “Caleb—wh-what happened?! What—why?”
“Babe, calm down. You promised me.” He coos, turning your hand in his before pulling it to him and pressing the back of your palm against his cheek. “Now, breathe for me, baby. Breathe then get your phone and make the call. And you have to tell them we’re running 80 miles.”
“Okay.” You nod, swallowing thickly as you try to quell your fear. “Okay.” With your free hand, you grab your clutch on the center console and take out your phone. Your fingers begin fidgeting as you dial the number as fast as you can, your knee bouncing as you wait for the responder to answer.
But fear encapsulates you in a tight cocoon, suffocating you when no one picks up. You try again, and again, but you still end up with the same result.
“Why is no one answering?!” You say in a panic and look over at Caleb, his eyes focused and his face only illuminated by lights from the lamp posts.
“Fuck!” He grunts and releases your hand, looking around after before facing the road. “Get out of your seat, babe, and I want you to go to the back and strap yourself in.” He instructs.
“But Ca—”
“No questions, babe. Just do it. Please.” He almost begs and you nod, quickly unbuckling your seat belt before climbing to the back and strapping yourself in once again. “Tell me once you’re done.”
“I’m buckled in.” Your voice quivers as you look ahead, whispering a silent prayer to the heavens. “What are we going to do?”
You hear the car rev before it starts to lose control, Caleb gripping tight on the wheel as he tries to center it on the road. You let out a scream when the car goes off road, several vehicles honking and swerving to get out of the way. Darkness completely shrouds the car as you enter, what you hope is a grassy field, a shriek escaping your lips when you hit a wired fence.
You try to focus on Caleb’s eyes on the rear view mirror, trying to look for a semblance of hope that you both will be okay. But when he meets yours, you see the fear looming in his blue irises.
Desolation suddenly washes over you when he no longer looks ahead, keeping his eyes on your face. You see him reach for you and you do the same, grasping his hand tight like a lifeline. But your heart shatters when you see the tear that escapes him, one that you mirror as you feel him silently bidding you goodbye.
“I love you so much, babe.” He whispers. “I’m so darn lucky to have met you.”
“Caleb—” You croak as you try to wipe your own tears. “What are you saying? We’ll be okay, right?” You whimper before looking around to try and see if anything would save the both of you yet all you see is nothing.
Before you can turn to face him again, wanting nothing but to look at him if this was indeed the end, a loud bang echoes through the open and you jolt forward, crying loudly and screaming when your head slams roughly against the ceiling of the car. You feel the vehicle turn over, rolling uncontrollably into the void until everything stops and goes dark.
The bright, white light glares harshly against your eyes when you open them, squinting as you groan and move against the bed you lay on, trying to decipher where you are. A soft beeping sound plays on your left, and an IV drip hangs on your right, to which you find connected to you, along with several other contraptions.
You have no recollection of what happened before you woke up, not even an inkling of how you ended up in the hospital room. You don’t even know what time or day it is, the window in the far right side of the room being the only source to tell you it’s night time.
Pain then rushes through your body as you try to sit up, seeing your left leg elevated by a sling that hangs from the ceiling and feeling a bandage wrapped around your head when you lift your hand to try and ease the ache hammering in your temples.
Panic quickly consumes you as you as questions fill your head. Why are you in bandages? Why are you here? Where the hell are you? The beeping at your side starts growing frantic, and you along with it, your heart beating faster and your hands clenching into fist against the white sheets of the bed, and all at once screaming for help, crying for anyone to come to your aid.
The door to the right suddenly opens and you stop when you see a blond man enter. Worry fills his face and you see his eyes brimming with tears as he walks over to you, only stopping mid way when you hold your arms out and try to push yourself against the pillow and away from him. But such actions don't deter the stranger, only having them push on and sit at the edge of the bed, his movements slow and gentle as he reaches over and caresses the side of your face.
“Thank God, you’re awake.” He chokes out a sob before taking both of your hands in his and pressing them to his lips. “I was so worried. The doctor said it might be months before you ever woke up.” He opens your closed fist and carefully places them on his cheek, leaning against your touch.
You study his face, his golden hair looking messy and his face in obvious distraught as his forehead wrinkles when his sapphire eyes meet yours. The sleeves of his black sweater are rolled up to his elbows, showing off the strength he possesses. You feel like you’ve seen him before but you can’t place it, all sense of knowing seemingly lost as you don’t even recall anything about yourself.
“Wh—who are you?” You ask, frowning when you see the shock form on his face.
“I—” He struggles to speak, his eyes closing as he squeezes your hand. “You don’t remember me?”
“I—I’m sorry—” You mumble. “I—I don’t—should I?”
“The doctors said this would happen but I was skeptical.” You see the tears flow from his eyes and you feel a pang of pain deep in your chest upon seeing his sadness. “But don’t worry, hon. We’ll get through this.” He says with surety before opening his eyes and facing you once again. “We can start small—your name.”
He says a name and tells you that it’s yours. You feel unsure but you latch onto his words, desperate to know more.
“I’m Steve Rogers.” He says next, lacing his fingers with yours. “And I’m your husband.”
I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications.
#steve rogers#navy and roo's sleepover#steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#captain america#dark captain america#dark fic#fabled memories#au#mcu#shadeyspring fics
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This might sound silly and i know bruce is bisexual and all but from a queer standpoint, the scene where he proposes to selina feels a lot like compulsory heterosexuality. "I love you. I HAVE to love you."
And considering the timeline, joker was HIDDEN INSIDE BRUCE'S BASEMENT my god the implications, the metaphor....
Yeah, the whole thing is... [clears throat] very interesting. These two panels, which happen relatively close in time, put it into perspective:
Batman (2016) #32 // Dark Days: The Casting
However, to be entirely honest, I don't think Bruce proposing to Selina, and that whole arc... can be boiled down to just compulsory heterosexuality. It's more complicated than that. Bruce is doing this after interacting with the Batman of Flashpoint, his own father, who begs him to try and be happy. And Bruce's idea of happiness, very much inspired by Thomas', is settling down with a woman and having a family. Gaining peace.
Tom King is the one who wrote the wedding arc, and the whole thing is permeated by this... typically masculine, American idealization of women as this isle of peace that a tortured man yearns for, but can never fully choose. I'm sure there's names for this trope or stereotype, but I'm too lazy to look this up. Think Michael Mann movies, think James Bond movies, think stories about criminals and agents and soldiers leading a dark violent life aspiring to put down arms, and the whole dream being entangled with a woman. A female character who usually isn't fleshed out beyond the representation of leaving a life of violence behind, having a nice wife and nice children in a nice house with a nice white picket fence. Tbh it's not surprising to me that King ended up writing Bruce and Selina with these undertones, because of King's infamous background with the CIA before he became a comic book writer.
And thing is, I don't think it's inaccurate to portray Bruce this way. Bruce has lead a long life of violence, and he wants to want to stop. He wishes it didn't define him as much as it does, he wishes there was another path for him-- and this wish drives his attempt to settle down with Selina. "I have to love you" is less about "you're a woman and I should marry a woman", it's more about "if I love you I am more of a human being, and I need that." Yes, it's compulsory heterosexuality too, in the sense that Bruce is drawing from the heteronormative idea that happiness can only be achieved through normality, and normality = wife and retirement. But it's also a sad, desperate attempt at salvaging himself through Selina, whom he does love... but the things he loves about her are less about her, and more about himself. In the end, his own subconscious acknowledges all of it, during the Knightmares arc:
Batman (2016) #69
[sigh] It's all quite sad. And I've said it in a different post, but this is partly why -- in a seemingly paradoxical way -- a relationship with Joker has the potential to work. "You can't love anyone but the Vow, but the Bat," Selina (a figment of his own mind) tells Bruce. And Joker is part of the Vow. In many ways, over the decades, Joker has become the endgame of the Vow, the incarnation of all the things the Bat is supposed to defeat. It's fucked up and makes me want to chew on glass, but the Bat could allow loving Joker, because loving Joker would be a part of the Mission.
Anyway, I went on a bit of an unncessary tangent, but yeah! I do agree, Anon. So many implications.
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Basement wife is so happy to have her little purse dog. She’s like her little ally in the hell she’s living in, her valiant knight that’ll protect her from the dragon/crocodile. But that’s where the pug also causes her some stress. Every time her dog growls at Crocodile or even - god forbid - tries to bite him, basement wife is afraid that that’ll be the last straw and Crocodile will snap and hurt either her dog or her. So every time the pug is a little menace to her captor she is quick to scoop her up away from Crocodile and apologize so sweetly. Crocodile can endure the dog’s yapping and growling if it means basement wife is a bit more affectionate towards him (though he knows it’s only out of fear and a way to placate him)
Crocodile and the puppy part 1 // part 2
For more context about basement wife/Crocodile, check my matchig section on my OP masterlist here.
are you people trying to kill me... this is too cute. i just love the way we can mix yandere tropes with crack so easily, makes me smile
tw. yandere, minors dni, crack treated seriously
Oh goodness, of course! You’re so right - we’ve talked about what Crocodile thinks, but how would you know that he enjoys the leverage he has? That he’s playing you like a goddamn fiddle any time you hastily pull your little pup away from him when she’s having a tantrum. You can only really see what he’s showing you - and not to insult your intelligence, but I think it wouldn’t be too outlandish to think that the very man who kidnapped you (on what you perceive as a whim) is very much capable of ending that tiny life over nothing more than a headache. He’s a terrifying man.
Honestly, he doesn’t care that you get all pliant and sweet out of fear only - he takes what he can get and shamelessly plays up his little moods when the dog tries to chew through his pant leg again. As long as she’s misbehaving when it’s just the two of them, he isn’t too fazed - but the moment you lay your eyes on the scene, he’s sure to curse and click his tongue just a bit too hard.
How could he not? It’s too delicious how you gasp every single time, pull her away from him and press a couple of soothing kisses to his temple, all in the hopes of calming him. You’re genuinely scared for her and it makes you play so nice… Maybe getting you a mutt wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
Will you figure out that he’s not going to hurt her one day? Sure. But that doesn’t stop him from enjoying that little bit of extra love you willingly give him whenever he uses your fear against you. And not only does he expect you to smooth over any furrow that the little dog’s outbursts might cause, he also wants gratitude whenever the waters are calm, because he's just such a good, caring husband, getting you a little pet, isn't he?
In the end, that dog plays right into his hands. Unwillingly.
#and maaaaaybe he has a little soft spot for the way your face lights up whenever you great your little pug when she gets back from walkies..#hm hm it's so hard to not make him overly soft (bc i love him so) but like i said... wife guy crocodile 5ever#even if it's a basement wife... haha#/crocodile#/one piece#yandere one piece#tw.yandere
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C.E. MASTERLIST
Steve Rogers masterlist
Ransom Drysdale masterlist
Johnny Storm masterlist
Ari Levinson
Oneshots
Blurred lines - Professor!Ari Levinson x student!reader
Summary: your relationship with your social science professor has blurred lines and you start having feelings for him. Question is if the feelings are mutual.
Drabbles
A wanted step - Ari Levinson x reader
Summary: Ari wants you pregnant, but you have yet to have a talk about when you would stop taking your birth control pills.
Jake Jensen
Oneshots
Mama’s boy - sub!virgin!Jake Jensen x mommy!reader
Summary: You take Jake’s virginity and discover he has a mommy kink in the process.
(Idea by @whoore-for-stucky)
Hey, kitty kitty - Jake Jensen x reader
Summary: Jake comes home to a nice surprise from his kitty.
Bryce Langley
Oneshots
Just like animals - soft!dark!Bryce Langley x reader
Summary: You spend your summer vacation with your childhood friend, Bryce Langley, and learn about his new obsession of questioning morals which otherwise really shouldn’t be questioned. How will he respond when you put him to the test?
His sunflower - stepbrother!Bryce Langley x reader
Summary: After a long lasting scandalous ‘friends with benefits’ relationship with your stepbrother Bryce, you decide it’s best to put it to an end, especially now that you have another guy on your love radar.
Drabbles
Perfect like that - Bryce Langley x gf!reader
Summary: You have a body insecurity, particularly with your stomach and Bryce won’t allow it.
Andy Barber
Oneshots
Daddy replacement - sugar daddy!Andy Barber x sugar baby!reader
Summary: Andy takes care of his sugar baby who has daddy issues.
Drabbles
You’re enough - Andy Barber x depressed!reader
Summary: Andy comforts you during your lowest.
COMMON ROOM
One-shots
(threesome/polygamy/love triangle relationship)
Clever compromises - Ransom Drysdale x reader x Jake Jensen
Summary: Yours and Ransom’s sex life is almost non-existent as you’re having a hard time not feeling intimidated by Ransom during sex. He turns to Jake for good advice, but Ransom thinks more than Jake’s helpful words will be needed from him.
Shameless ménage - dark!stepfather!Andy barber x innocent!naive!reader x dark!soft!Johnny Storm
Summary: You live with two men in the house; your stepdad, - Andy Barber who had married your mother before she had passed away, and Johnny Storm, - who Andy is the Godfather of. What you once called a family was turning into a household full of malice intentions.
HCs WITH THE CEVANS CHARACTERS
cevans characters & reaction to sudden affections
(Idea by @silelda )
cevans characters & calling them ‘pretty boy’
cevans characters & catching them crying
cevans characters & life after marriage
(Idea by @femefetalelevelingup )
ce characters & reaction to Y/N flinching
cevans characters & tier list of top/bottom/switch
cevans characters & catching them masturbating
cevans characters & size differences/size kink
cevans characters & reaction to reader teasing them
(Idea by @elle14-blog1 )
cevans characters & loosing your virginity to them
cevans characters & giving your first blowjob
(Idea by @elle14-blog1 )
cevans characters & reader’s first time of using the safe word
(Idea by @elle14-blog1 )
cevans characters & reacting to pregnancy/how they will act during pregnancy period
cevans characters & having a daughter
cevans characters & huge age gap relationship
◼️ DARK HC THEMES ◼️
cevans characters & ignoring the safe word
cevans characters & unhealthy/toxic/dark behaviors
cevans characters & taking virginity of innocent/naive reader
cevans characters & having you as their basement wife trope
AU MASTERLIST
Our little farm - Farm AU ft. Bull hybrid!Ransom Drysdale x reader & bull hybrid!Ari Levinson x reader
Collaboration with @imyourbratzdoll
#masterlist#ransom drysdale#ari levinson#steve rogers#jake jensen#ransom drysdale x reader#steve rogers x reader#ari levinson x y/n#jake jensen x reader#johnny storm#johnny storm x reader#andy barber#andy barber x reader#cevans characters hcs#cevans characters#chris evans x reader#chris evans
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Mr. & Mrs. Stark
Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, kidnapping, anal, oral, fear, manipulation, cheating, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your life is turned upside down. First by Tony Stark. Then Steve Rogers.
Characters: Stony x reader
Note: This if for I love you 3000 dark writing challenge 2022 . I chose Stony with the basement wife trope. This is my first time doing Stony and only my second full length Tony fic.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Mother Goose loves being a goose? Take care. 💖
[Italics are flashbacks]
Tick, tick, tick.
The wall stares back at you, your only companion as a hint of cleaner lingers, tickling your nose with artificial lilac. Your hands curve around the porcelain, the tea lukewarm in your neglect. All is as it should be. The kitchen is quiet and empty, every counter shining, every tile mopped and stringent.
You blow out between your lips as that urgent flutter rises in your chest. That feeling that never goes away. Anticipation, rather anxiety. Revery, rather, regret. How did you get here?
Stark Tower was eerie after hours but you often found comfort in the late nights. Forgotten in the lower floors to sort through the endless cycle of files and memos, there’s a peace that nestles deep in the heart of the bustling corporation. The shuffle of paper, the rustle of pages landed in the bin, others sent off in tubes. For a company known for innovation, the system was antiquated.
You capped another container and sent it up. The work kept your hands busy, your mind distracted. Menial work, nothing like those on the top floors. The suits and the heroes. Among the excitement of the next new Stark invention was the boss himself and his team of avengers. A tier unreachable to any other.
You were happy in your little nook. Your place. Where you belonged. It wasn’t much but you made enough for rent, you had insurance, and a few perks that made the day tolerable. You reached for your forgotten coffee and took a bitter swig. It was cold and stale, but it was free.
Tick, tick, tick.
You blink at the clock and look down at your tea. The subtle amber hue of steeped herbs. You stand up, the scrape of the chair’s feet blasphemous in the silence. Your heels click across the floor and you dump the tea down the sink, rinsing the residue with the faucet. You watch the water swirl down, a small cyclone draining into the pipes.
You put the mug aside and close your eyes. You hang your head as you clutch the edge of the sink and shudder. The sterile air is cold and unwelcoming. You can never settle. Not here.
You rose and cursed at the brim of your cup. Your hips ached from your awkward perch on the high stool as you sorted. The nights often saw you waddling off with a stiff back and cramped legs. You groaned as you rubbed your lower back and elbowed through the door into the hall.
You poured the coffee into the water fountain just outside and pushed down the knob to wash away the remnants. You dropped the empty cup in the bin against the far wall with a hollow thwop and pushed your neck back with a sigh. Your shoulders were knotted, tugging on one another each time you moved.
There was an echo of your footstep as you shuffled back to the mailroom. You paused and looked down the hall. The lighting is pale and painful as it stings your tired eyes. Night shift always had that sobering effect, the hyper awareness that chiseled away at your sanity. You shake your head and pull open the door, dipping back into the room laced with the scent of paper.
You drag your hand blindly across the counter and retrieve the mug, giving it a proper scrub before drying it and placing it in the perfect line of cups in the cupboard. You shut the door and back up, turning to face the purgatory of your existence. The static raises goosebumps on your skin.
You cross the room and look into the next. The plush couch, the large TV, the luxurious carpet, a wall of windows that almost seem real. It’s a dream, the home everyone would love. Everyone but you.
You walk around the couch and near the wall that looks out onto the city skyline. That gives the illusion of a high rise. You touch the LCD and shake your head. A dystopian simulation stands all around you. A cell made to look like paradise.
It was 4am. Actually, twenty minutes past. You’d lost track of time but wouldn’t clock the extra minutes. You just wanted to go home and fall into bed. A hot shower sounded nice but you didn’t have the energy for that.
You locked the mailroom behind you and spun to face the hall. That noise. That echo, just a second off the scuff of your sole. You looked down at your black sneakers, the fifteen dollar pair that would wear through in a few months. The flat inline that did nothing for your pain.
You took a breath and looked both ways down the hall before you set off down your usual route. The subway was empty around this time of day, the closest ramp sat behind Stark Tower. You wound down the twists and turns of the basement towards the rear exit.
Before you turned the corner, you heard a click, the gentle touch of metal on metal. You slowed as you peeked around and found nothing but the heavy door that led to the concrete stairwell. Sometimes the janitor was around, starting their shift, but you didn’t see their cart or any signs of cleaning.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes as your knapsack dangled from your right shoulder. You were tired, you were hearing things. You pushed through the door, the noise echoed up the floors above. Your shoes squeaked as you crossed the cracked floor, neglected for the upper tiers of the tower. Your foot never met the first step.
“Honey, I’m home,” Tony’s voice draws you back from the live stream of the cityscape. You back away and quickly go to meet him, forcing a laugh at his oft repeated joke.
You stand at the end of the hallway as you watch him. He grunts as he rolls his shoulders and smiles as he sees you. You rush forward to help him out of his suit jacket. He stops you before you can hang it and kisses your cheek, “honey, you okay?”
“Yes, sir,” you say as you turn and sling his jacket on the coat rack, “I just finished tidying up.”
“Ah,” he taps your ass softly, “good girl.”
You step away and fold your hands compliantly. He sits on the bench with the shelf of shoes below. You get to your knees and slip off his loafers, inserting them into the empty space beneath. He catches your chin as you sit back on your heels and makes you look at him.
“You’re so good to me, baby,” he strokes your chin with his thumb, “you look tired.”
“Oh, I…” you touch your cheeks and shy away, “I forgot to–”
“No, I don’t mind,” he grabs your jaw more firmly before you can pull away, “a natural beauty.”
“Thank you, sir,” you swallow.
“Baby, tonight is not about me, it’s about you.”
You blink. Your chest twinges. You know that’s never true. You stare and wait for his trick to unfold.
“Shhh, baby, please, it’s okay,” the voice tickled the shell of your ear as you writhed in his grasp, “don’t fight it. It only makes it worse–”
You clawed at the tails of his jacket as your feet hit the floor helplessly. You saw the odd bracelet beneath his sleeve and the sudden cloud of blue smoke that puffed from it. It seeped into your nose and flooded your head, eyes itchy and mouth dry as you were forced to inhale the mist.
“Alright, it’s okay,” he kept his arm around your neck as he pet your head, easing you down to the floor as your body went limp, “just go to sleep. Shhhh, it’s alright.”
“Me?” You wonder as you bat your lashes. He drags his hand up to your cheek and gives a playful tap.
“Baby, go draw yourself a bath and relax,” he purrs as you remain kneeling between his knees, “as much as I love to see you in this position, you earned it.”
“Sir,” you breathe.
He offers his hand and you take it, cautious. He stands and pulls you up with him. His other hand crawls down your side and he hums as he eyes your dress.
“Can you believe it? One year. One whole year.”
You blanch and touch his hand as he squeezes your side. You nearly stagger at the revelation.
Tick, tick, tick. You hear the clock in the kitchen. How many hours, how many days, how many months. Not knowing is easier. You inhale deeply and let your hand trail up his arm, resisting the urge to shove him away.
“Happy anniversary,” you eke out, you know what he wants. He’s taught you exactly what to say.
“Aw, baby, happy anniversary,” he pulls you against him and crushes his lips against yours. He kisses you roughly, the trim along his chin tickles, as his warmth consumes you.
You woke up in darkness. Pitch black. You couldn’t see your own fingers as you waved them in front of your face. Naked but for the light weight around your neck. The panic quickly began to bloom.
“Baby, you’re awake,” the bodiless voice cooed, “ah, ah,” he tutted as you tried to sit up, only to fall back dizzily, “don’t go making too much fuss. You gotta give it time.”
“Wh–wh–” Where are you? What happened? You can’t put it into words as you’re paralysed by the throbbing in your head.
“One thing at a time, baby. This is level one.”
Level one, you blinked. Confused in the fog of your brain, the blackness, the voice that seemed to come from all around you.
“Level two is easier, but one is more fun,” he chuckled, “so baby, let’s start easy–”
“Who are you?” You whimpered as your body shook with the effort to sit up.
“Ah, I was about to get to that,” he taunted, “now, baby, don’t get so worked up. Your heart is pumping so hard, you’re gonna knock yourself out.”
“Please–”
“Baby, I’m warning you, it’s easy if you listen,” he dragged out the last word to a growl. “You can call me–”
“I’m scared,” your chest thumped hard as your ears rang, “please–”
Your muscles constricted suddenly and you crumpled onto the ground, prostrated on your back as the surge stretched every nerve to its limit.
“Baby, don’t make me do that again,” he warned as the tension slaked away and left you panting weakly, “for now, you will call me ‘sir’.”
The bathing pool stands against the wall, a great basin of steamy water, scented with rose as you dip into the depths. The heat should be relaxing but you can’t even remember what it feels like to relax. You lean against the wall and pull your knees up, bending your arms over your legs as you sit alone.
Tony surprises you as he appears, a bottle in one hand, two glasses balanced in the other. He puts them down on the tile that edges the tub and uncorks the bottle, a swell of foam rising over the top as he holds it away from him. He pours a full glass for both of you.
“Baby,” he lifts one and holds it out.
You push through the water to take it, “thank you, sir.”
You retreat and stare at the bubbly golden nectar. You were never a drinker but he never afforded you the indulgence. Maybe he’d allow you enough to forget. Or at least, accept.
“Thank you, baby,” he winks and peeks beneath the surface of the water, “you’re a sweet little thing.”
You smile, it’s brittle and painful as it dimples your cheek.
“Go on, have a drink, don’t wait on me,” he bids as he pulls free his tie, “we got all night.”
You carefully put the flute to your lips and daintily taste the wine. It’s sweet and sour at once. You nearly choke as you swallow it down. You drink deeper as the heat spreads through your chest.
You quivered and whined as another vibe rose from within. You don’t understand. It was hours of this. You reached searchingly down and still nothing. No, just your body. What was happening to you?
You felt along your cunt, dripping with your cum as a vibration pulses from within. You whimpered as you grazed your clit, adding to the overwhelming sensation. You hissed and poked your fingers inside, prodding, pushing as you tried to find the source. Still, you come up empty.
You rolled onto your back and cried out as you came again, body contorting with the raging tide of your climax. Your fingers curled into your palms and your toes bent until they would break. You gulped down air desperately, your head spinning as the rippling continued to course through you.
“Baby, you’re doing so good,” his voice taunted from the unseen speaker, “so good but you keep touching yourself, and I won’t be so generous.”
Tony slides up next to you, stretching his arm over your shoulders as he sits snugly against you. He clinks your glass with his and sips, his dark eyes clinging to you. You drink too and finish the last mouthful.
“Thirsty?” He muses. “As always.”
You look at your empty glass, “sorry, sir, I didn’t–”
“Go on, have some more,” he prompts, “it’s a special night, baby.”
You don’t want more. You already feel off-kilter but you know better than to say no. You wade over to the edge and fill your glass before you return to him. As you do, he directs you into his lap, his dick bobbing hard beneath you.
“Mmm, baby,” he reaches around you and takes your glass, “you’re delectable. I could eat you up.”
He presses the brim to your lips and tilts it. You swallow as he pours into your mouth, gulping as the deluge nearly chokes you. When the glass is empty, you cough and he draws it away, placing it beside his one the tile.
He hugs you from behind and kisses your shoulder, “missed you. Sorry I was gone so long but things… got a bit hairy.”
“Yes, sir,” you lean back against him as his hands crawl up your stomach and he fondles your tits. He groans as your ass rests on his twitching length.
“You know him,” he speaks against your skin and sighs, “always something to argue about. Not like you, baby. You know how much I love you, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” you lie.
“Fuck, it hurts how much I love you,” he snarls and nips at your neck, “I need you on me right now.”
“Sir,” your throat tightens as his hand wanders up to your neck.
You lift yourself slightly and feel beneath you. You angle his dick along your folds and spread your legs around his, easing down until you feel him in your stomach. You groan as your body tenses at the fullness. He squeezes your throat as his other hand grips your hip, forcing you down until it hurts.
“Good girl,” he rasps as he moves you slowly, guiding your pelvis in a torturous rock. “I’ve been thinking of this forever. One year…”
He growls and his hot breath fans over your shoulder and down your chest as he dips his head against you. He keeps his hold on your hip and his other hand drifts along your skin and down your arm. He takes your hand and raises it over the water, toying with the ring on your finger.
“Did you miss me?” He moans as he tilts you a little faster.
“Yes, sir,” you answer as you follow his lead, curling your fingers against his thigh, “I always do.”
“I wish it wasn’t so lonely down here for you,” he leans back, hanging his head back over the edge, “keep going.”
He pulls his hands back, bracing the tub as he groans. You keep your hips rolling, breath rising in shallow puffs as you fuck him. His deep voice drowns as he lets you take over, water slapping between your bodies.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he slaps your ass from the side, “you got a nice fucking ass. I think of that ass–” he grunts, “too much. Oh, god.”
You let out pathetic murmurs as he swoops his arm around you. He rubs your clit in circles as you work in his lap, knees against the porcelain as you grasp his thigh tighter.
“Fuck, baby, harder,” he begs as his fingers quicken on your clit, “yeah, like that.”
You obey, your voice underlining your frantic breaths. He snarls as the water splashes around your motion. You’re close as your walls clench him. He can feel it as he flicks you urgently. Your orgasm rolls over you but you fight through the pique to keep going.
“Mmm, you’re so good to me,” he presses on your bud until you whimper, “tell me to cum, baby.”
“Cum for me,” you huff, “sir, please, cum for me. You want to cum for me, don’t you?” You close your eyes as you recite your lines. “Are you bad? Are you going to cum in me?” He gurgles as you feel his body stiffen, “where do you wanna cum, sir?”
“Where do you want me to–” he rasps.
“Cum in me, sir, please,” you say through tight lips, “fill me up, please. I need it, sir.”
He spasm and latches onto your sides. He slams you down, over and over as he growls and fucks you from below. His pace is erratic and wild as the warmth coats your walls, slickening around him as he eases up. Finally, he stills you, pulling you back against his chest as he sighs.
“Mmm, I needed that,” he traces a line up your stomach, “but baby, I’m gonna cover every part of you in me.”
🕛
Just another day. Each like the last and the next. The only unknown is when he will be there. When he will come to cement the futility of your imprisonment.
There's never much to do. It's just you, you don't make much mess, and he doesn't leave much for you to clean up beyond yourself.
You pace as you usually do. By the books on the shelves you couldn't read for the reminder of what you'll never have again. The same reason the television stays black. The easel and paints that you only used once. The puzzle books you can't focus on enough to finish one riddle. The half-done knitting project. The evidence of your addled existence all around.
Click, click, click.
Your heels keep a tempo on the floor, holding pace with the ebb and flow of your thoughts. Slow, then fast, then stilling for just a moment as you turn back.
Click. Not a heel. Click. At the door. Click, click, scratch, beep, beep, beep.
You go to the doorway and peek around the plaster. The door shifts, shakes, then opens. You hide behind the plaster quickly. It can't be real. You've finally snapped.
The door whispers to a stop as he steps inside, his sole soft on the floor. You hold your breath and listen, not daring to poke your head out again. The gentle friction of some object moved and put back.
You step out of one shoe at a time and bend to pick them up. The rustle of fabric, a careful inspection of the coats by the door, for decoration alone. You don't need them, you never go out.
You cautiously tiptoe away as his footfalls advance down the hallway, closer. You scurry into the bedroom, panic tying your nerves in clusters as you look around. What do you do?
You roll open the closet and pull it shut swiftly as you spin inside. You slip on between the dresses hung on hangers and watch between the slats as the muffled noise of his invasion draws closer and closer.
He lets out a long exhale as his shadow skews over the hardwood.
"I can hear you," he utters to the air, "you're heartbeat. Come out."
You close your eyes and push yourself to the back of the closet, swallowed by the fabric around you.
"I know you're afraid. Your heart is racing. But I'm not here to hurt you." He steps inside and you quiver as you look through one eye, his blurry figure visible through the slat. "It's me, Cap? Steve Rogers."
He lets the declaration hang as he walks around the bed. He turns his back to you as he nears the night table, where an oval frame holds a picture of your and Tony. A picture where the sadness underlines your tight smile.
"The fuck…" he breathes.
"I'm not mad at you," he turns back, walking along the wall, towards the closet. "Not as much as him."
You smother your mouth as your tears trickle out. Tony's husband is just on the other side of the door and you're hiding. Hiding because he wouldn't believe you. Because you have nowhere to go and you learned long ago these heroes are anything but.
He pushes the door open so it folds, the wood snapping against itself. You sniffle as he shoves apart the hangers, unveiling you. His figure is shadowed as he blocks out the light of the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," you croak and cower.
"Come out," he says evenly, the anger barely restrained, "now."
You drop your shoes and step out. He moves back and watches you emerge. He looks you over as you shy away, slipping your hand behind your back as you see the golden band on his finger.
"Hey," he catches your arm and forces your hand up. His jaw ticks and he grits his teeth, letting go of you as he sneers, "fucking bastard. I knew it. And he was accusing me, but here–" he stops himself. "Let's go."
He grabs your wrist and drags you across the floor. You squeak as you try to dig in your heels, only causing your feet to drag painfully across the hardwood.
"Please, you can't-"
"Like hell I can't," he growls, "he wants to have a little pet, well too bad."
"No, please, listen," you plead as he forces you into the front room and marches you down the long hallway to the open door, "he won't let m–"
He tries to force you over the threshold and you cry out as a zap runs up your hand and down your spine. You violently rip away from him and hit the wall as you cradle your fingers, the ring searing you from the inside out. You sob and slide down to the floor.
"Christ! Tony!" He hollers as he squats and grabs your hand, "fucking–"
He tries to pull the ring off and another jolt surges in your, another shrill shriek as you swat him away.
"No, you can't–" you gasp as he lets you go and you keel over on the floor, weeping.
He huffs and stands up, kicking over the coat rack. It barely misses you as it falls and you sit up against the wall, breathless and babbling. You want to leave, you would do anything to leave, but you can't. He doesn't know how it hurts.
"Fuck!" He takes off his own ring and tosses it away, "fuck!"
"Always were the nosy type, Rogers," you wince as Tony’s voice echoes from the corners. You shrink as Steve turns, searching for him, "you spoiled the surprise."
"Surprise? Fuck you, Tony!"
"Now, now, honey, I couldn't give you an untrained pet, could I?"
"Bullshit!" Steve spins again, narrowing his eyes at a seam in the wall, "you've been fucking… her."
"I've been getting her ready for you," Tony calls back. The door suddenly shuts on its own and the lock whirs back into place. "Now don't go tryna run off on me just yet."
You curl up as Steve storms at the door and hits it with his shoulder. He does it several times and pulls at the handle. He snarls and kicks it, staggering back out of breath.
He pivots as he grips his hips and looks down at you, chest rising and falling heavily. He sighs and shakes his head. He slips down to sit on the floor beside the overturned coat rack.
"How long have you been here?" He asks.
You shrug, mopping your face with the back of your hands, "I don't know… a year… more."
"Do you want to be here?"
You stare at him, "that doesn't matter."
His blue eyes wander up the wall and he tilts his head back, "you're telling me."
You sit in silence, hugging your knees as you tremble and stare at his hand, fingers furling and unfurling. You hang your head and wipe your nose.
"I can make some coffee," you offer softly.
He flicks his fingers, exasperated, "sure, what the hell else am I gonna do?"
👠
You approach Steve quietly and set down the cup. He doesn't acknowledge you and you go to grab the cream and sugar, placing it close to the mug.
"Do you want milk instead?" You offer.
He breaks his trance fixated on the fridge and looks at you, "no, it's fine…" he wraps his long fingers around the porcelain, "thank you."
"I made cookies yesterday. Or the day before. I don’t know."
His lips part, a moment of disgust. He blinks, "no, no, that's… jeez. Can you sit down?"
"No, I have to be ready. I have to…" you stop your manic rambling, "sorry, sir, I'm sorry."
"Don't. Don't apologise. Don't talk like that. What is wrong with you?"
Your lip quivers and your frown. Your cheek twitches as your legs shake, "you're supposed to tell me what's wrong."
He bites down and stands. You flinch as he touches your upper arms and guides you back to sit in another chair. He holds you there and reluctantly parts.
"Where did you come from?" He sits and leans an elbow on the table as he hooks two fingers through the handle of the mug.
"I…" you look at the table, the rippled knot in the wood and cover it with your hand, "I worked the mailroom at Stark Tower. Once. Before…"
"Mailroom?" He cringes, "you're the one–"
He puts his hand to his mouth as his forehead wrinkles. He slips his head down and braces his forehead. You chew the inside of your cheek and look away.
"I'm sorry."
"No, I am," he sits back and grabs the cup, taking a deep gulp. He sighs and slams the cup down abruptly. The table jars and he stands, stomping out, "I can't fucking look at you."
You can't blame him. You hate yourself too. You hear him pacing in the hallway, then into the front room, something crashes and you drop your head down onto your arms as you slump against the table. This can't be real.
The door whirs and you sit up sharply, rocking the chair beneath you. Tony's voice flows down the hall.
"Honey, I'm home."
There's silence, then barreling steps down the hall. You turn and stare as Steve charges Tony back into the door as it locks. You don't move, paralysed as the blonde reels back and yowls.
"Come on, Rogers, you're not gonna bully me," Tony shows the odd skeleton contraption that wraps his hand, "why are you so ungrateful?"
"Me? You–"
"I told you, she's a gift. I'm surprised you waited for me to get started."
"Her? I don't–"
You can't see Steve, only Tony as he stands in the crux of the two doors.
"Tell me you don't want the sweet little thing," Tony taunts, "Rogers, I'd love to see it."
"Shut the fuck up. What did you do to her?"
"Everything that's going through your head at this very moment."
Silence. Tick, tick, tick.
"Tony," Steve mutters.
"Steve," Tony answers brightly, "you want her mouth first or–"
"Stop."
"I left her ass alone. For you, baby."
"Stop!" Steve shoves him and storms away, then back again.
Tony snickers as he regains his balance, "you're getting hard right now thinking about it. You want her. She's just your type, Captain. I should know."
"Stop, please," Steve begs, "we're married. You're–"
"I know you, all your little toys. Before–"
"I stopped," Steve blusters, "I stopped for you, Tony! What are you doing?"
"I'm spicing things up. Tell me it hasn't gotten stale."
"No shit. You got some girl locked up in this– this– bunker. Tony!"
"I can see your raging hard on, buddy, you don't gotta pretend with me–"
"Tony, I'm gonna fucking kill you. You are so–"
"Depraved? Fucked up? Kinky? You knew it. Let me hold her for you. Huh? I'll bend that pretty little ass over as you watch her suck my dick. Tell me you don't want it."
"Ton…" Steve rasps, "why?"
"Why not?"
Tick, tick, tick. You look up at the clock. Waiting.
"Oh, honey," Tony sings, "come here and meet the Captain."
You push the chair back, scraping loudly on the floor. You get up and rigidly turn, striding out to the hallway. Tony leads you in front of him to face Steve.
"Look at her," he snakes his arm around to force your chin up, "precious, isn't she?"
Steve takes a deep breath. The veins in his arms bulge as his eyes narrow and his pupils dilate. His head twitches as he clenches his jaw.
"And isn't he just the most hunky piece of star-spangled beef you've ever seen, baby?" Tony purrs against your crown.
"Yes, sir," you answer diligently.
"See how well I trained her, Cap? The soldier in you should be proud. Huh? Call him Captain, honey. He likes that."
"Okay, Captain," you shudder as Tony steps back.
Steve moans as he shifts his weight, his hand rising to brush down his chest. Tony tugs down the zipper of your dress and the fabric slackens. He pushes it down, baring you as he shoves it past your hips. You're left naked and prone to the other man's gaze.
"Rogers," Tony says in a musical taunt as he grabs your waist and urges you forward. "Look at her."
Steve looks down and shakes his head. He hooks his thumbs in the loops of his jeans.
"She wants you, Rogers. What's she gonna do without the Captain's firm hand?"
Steve takes a quaking breath and sucks his teeth. He tilts his head from side to side like a horse trying to shake its reins. His cheek dimples as he nods.
"Take her to the bedroom," he whispers, "gimme a moment here."
"You heard him," Tony lowers his hand to give your ass a tap, "get all nice and wet for him, baby."
Tony grasps your shoulders and steers you around Steve, who turns to watch as you go, eyes hooded and heavy. A darker presence lurks in him, something frightening, like a tiger licking its chops. The man behind you chuckles and urges you on.
In the bedroom, your blood cools and the heat razes your skin. You know how it goes, it always ends. You just need to get through it. Bite your lip, ball your hands, hold your breath, any way you can.
Tony takes you to the bed, ordering you around as he moves your body to his whims. Ass up, hands on the mattress, waiting, quiet, compliant.
He tickles your ass as he lingers behind you. You wince as he turns and gropes you fully.
“Be good for him, baby,” he groans as he pushes his pelvis against you, “I know you can do it.”
“Yes, sir,” you watch the bedspread.
You hear the floor creak. Tony stops you from looking back as he lifts a knee onto the bed. He grabs your skull and tuts, climbing in front of you as he holds you in place. He hushes you and pets your hair.
"Baby, it's okay," he coos and looks over you, "top drawer."
You curl your fingers into the blankets as you lean on your elbows. Clothing rustles around deliberate steps, a shadow looming behind you as Tony hangs on, keeping you blind to the other man.
"Baby, why don't you use that pretty mouth of yours while he gets warmed up?"
You push a hand up, clumsily picking open Tony's slacks, a designer cut like everything else. You tug at his fly and spreading them wide. He raises himself on his knees and wiggles as you eases them down, pulling the elastic of his briefs away from his stomach.
You shove the fabric low enough to pull him over the top, stroking him as he groans. He caresses your temple as your hand travels the length of him and back down, his veins throbbing against your palm. You shift closer as press your lips to his tips, sliding back the skin as you open your mouth around him.
"Mmm, yes, baby, that's so good. See how good she listens, honey?"
Steve grunts and something cool touches your ass. You whimper around Tony but he keeps your head bobbing, hooking a hand around to feel himself in your throat. You gag but hold it back.
"Mmm, she's good with her mouth, but you'll have to let me know about her ass," Tony hums as he carries the motion with his hips, fucking your mouth steadily.
The coolness retracts and cracks across your ass sharply. You choke as your eyes prick, the leather lashing again, biting into your tender flesh. You claw at the bottom of Tony's shirt and whine. Another snap of the belt has you shaking as your hand runs up Tony's torso.
Your tears leak out again, your body constricting as you try not to bite down. Steve lays another, full force and your legs slip you as your body contracts. You pull off of Tony as the pain overrides your restraint.
"Get her," Steve's tone is deep and rocky, "hold her."
Tony pins you down by your shoulders and Steve puts his leg over your thighs. He whips you again, again, until you're bawling and dripping with tears. He stops and traces a welt, blood leaking out hotly.
He slides his leg off you and exhales. Tony lets go and takes the end of the looped belt, angling it over your head. It's drawn tight to the buckle, forcing your head up. You sniff as Tony cradles your cheeks.
"Get that ass up, baby," Tony coaxes, "I know you can do it."
You shakily bend your legs under you and lift yourself. You hold yourself up on all fours as Steve backs away. Tony pushes a thumb against your lip and pokes inside your mouth.
A slippery cold trickle glides down between your cheeks and you flinch. Something lands beside your leg as Steve's hands spread across your ass. He dips his fingers down to smear the lube over your puckered hole. You tighten as he tickles you, playing and prodding, teasing as if he might delve further at any moment.
"I'll take a lot more for me to forgive you," Steve pushes his thumb against your ring, stretching you with the thick digits as you whimper.
"This is a start, isn't it, Rogers? I could never be that perfect little homemaker."
Steve growls and urges his finger deeper and you bite down on Tony's knuckle, the intrusion burning painfully. You suck on his thumb and bat your lashes, rolling your eyes back against the deluge.
"She's tight."
"I didn't fucking lie."
"Not about this," Steve grits, pushing in and out. "Hey, doll, you better loosen up."
You blow out as Tony slides back his hand to hold your chin. He looks down at you and winks, "Cap can be a big softie, if you let him."
Steve slips free of your ring and steps up, inching you back on the bed. His dick brushes along the curves of your ass and he angles it down between your cheeks. You gulp and flick your lashes up.
"Take it easy on her, can't have you breaking her right away," Tony warns.
Steve sneers as he edges along your ring and sets his feet. He leans in as you whimper, slowly opening for him. He doesn't let up, forcing himself deeper with short thrusts. You shriek with the horrid strain and reach back as you try to push him away with your fingertips, meeting only air.
He bucks into you completely and you cry out. Tony shushes you and grips your jaw, pushing you up to only your knees at the edge of the bed. Steve clutches your hip as his other hand explores your torso. He rocks against you, long, torturous thrusts.
You wheeze through your teeth, gnashing down as the agony stirs bile at the back of your throat. Tony cradles your face in his hands, resting his forehead against yours.
"Baby, you're doing it. Shhhh, you're doing so good. Isn't she, Captain?"
"Yeah," Steve says airily, speeding up so his pelvis slaps your wrought skin, "yeah, doll, so good."
Tony lets out a crackly chuckle, "see, baby, he loves you. Taking him so well. That's it. It won't hurt much longer."
You whimper and blubber as you clasp Tony's wrists. Your body vibrates around Steve as he pounds harder, harder, fingertips jabbing into your hip. He snarls and brings his hand to your throat, pulling you away from Tony.
Your eyes loll as he forces your head up, squeezing until you choke. You feel the bed shift and Tony's figure wisps by as he goes to stand behind his husband.
"That's it, Cap, that's how you do it. You see," Tony reaches around and pulls you back to your limit, "I need that special touch."
"Don't fuck around," Steve chuffs, "you're next."
"Counting on it," Tony slaps Steve's ass he he carries he eager motion, "better save some energy."
"I can do this all day," Steve drags you back and your feet fall to the floor as he bends you over the bed, body flush to yours, "til death do us part, honey."
#tony stark#steve rogers#dark!tony stark#dark!steve rogers#dark tony stark#dark steve rogers#tony stark x steve rogers#stony#dark stony#dark!stony#writing challenge#au#steve rogers x reader#tony stark x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#one shot#mcu#marvel#avengers#iron man#captain america#Iloveyou3000writingchallenge
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Hello, I'm back with another writing challenge. Since spooky season and my birthday are a few months away, I thought I'd host another writing challenge. This time with a much longer due date. Let's jump into it, shall we?
#𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞
This theme is inspired by my love for dark fics and anything spooky/scary/surpernatural, you name it! I want this challenge to be versatile. That means your fic can contain angst, can take place in a dark/spooky setting. The choice is yours.
𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 & 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨;
-The prompts below will be sexual/dark so, all participants must be 18+
-All tropes and kinks are welcome except for underage/incest
-This challenge is open to dark fic writers/non dark fic writers
- Any of Sebastian Stan, cevan's characters, marvel/ or stranger things characters are welcome. I'm open to other fandoms/characters as well. Just let me know. All I ask is that there are no RPFS.
-Reader inserts only. But any type of reader is welcome. GN!, Plus Size, POC, etc.
-No word limits but I ask that if your piece is longer than 500 words, please leave a read more.
-Tag all warnings/kinks appropriately.
-You can start whenever you wish. The deadline isn't until September 28th, so that should give you plenty of time.
-You can mix and match the prompts or use just one of them. More than one person can use the same prompt if you wish.
-Please tag your fics with #DuskTillDawnChallenge and @ me so I can see your work.
-Last but not least, feel free to message or dm me with any further questions!
Tropes/Kinks:
Stalking/Stalker
Enemies to Lovers
Kidnapping
A/B/O
Forced Intimacy
Basement Wife
Hunt/Chase
Blackmail
Knife
Blood
Dry Humping
Dom/Sub
Bondage
Breeding
AU's
Werewolf AU
Vampire AU
Demon/Angel AU
Demon/Human AU
Forced Marriage AU
Post-apocalyptic AU
Haunted House/ Castle AU
Serial Killer AU
Horror AU
Prompts:
Horror/Angst:
"Don’t look at them, why are you looking at them? Look at me. they’re not going to help you."
"You see, I had quite a reputation as the go-to guy. My job demanded it at the time. So I know where to apply the tiniest amount of pressure to a wound like yours."
"No one is coming for you. I made sure of that."
"You look so good like this, all tied up and bloodied."
"You couldn't live with your own failure, and where did that bring you? Yeah, right back to me."
"It should have been you." "I know"
“All you are is a liar...” “My love for you is not a lie.”
"Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."
"Oh, I’m not going to rush this. I’m going to take my sweet time."
Dark/Smut:
“Please, I have to get home.”
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
“I told you to shut up and you know I don’t repeat myself.”
“You’re scaring me.” “Good.”
“I didn’t follow you, you led me here.”
“How did you get in here?”
“They’re going to start looking for me.”
“You can bite me. I like it.”
“I’ve done so much for you, don’t you think you owe me?”
“You want to do that again… you want me to hurt you.”
“Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you.”
"Do not scream god's name, scream mine."
“Louder, I want to hear you!”
“I can’t sleep if I’m not inside you.”
“I don’t care who hears, I want everyone to hear what I do to you.”
“You want me to pull out, ask me nice and I’ll cum in your mouth.”
“I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.”
"I get so hard when I’m around you."
tagging some mutuals who might be interested! no pressure. @thornsnvultures, @brandycranby, @nickfowlerrr, @mickeyhenrys
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𝕬𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖂𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝕬𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖘
Welcome to the Attic Wives Anonymous A.U. Here you will find individual stories for our men as well as peeks into their monthly meetings. Each chapter will have its own warnings and summaries—be sure to read them. However, dark themes of kidnapping, stalking, yandere behavior, nonconsent, etc. are prevalent in all the stories or implied/discussed in the meeting chapters. This series is for adults (Minors do not interact, 18+).
Status: Ongoing
🐻 Finish What We’ve Begun 🐻 DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader
👑 Like A Moth To You 👑 Robert Pronge (aka Mr. Freezy) x Female Reader
🪽 A Bit of My Heart 🪽Jake Jensen x Female Reader
🗝️ A.W.A. Meeting One 🗝️
💍 On Another Level 💍 Andy Barber x Female Reader
🪶 Connection 🪶 Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader
🗝️ A.W.A Meeting Two 🗝️
🐻 Finish What We’ve Begun Drabble 🐻 DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader
🍭 Trapped By Your Love 🍭 Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader
💍 On Another Level (2) 💍 Andy Barber x Female Reader
👑 Like A Moth to You (2) 👑 Mr. Freezy x Female Reader
🪽 A Bit of My Heart (2) 🪽 Jake Jensen x Female Reader
🗝️ A.W.A. Meeting Three 🗝️
🪶 Connection (2) 🪶 Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader
🐻 Finish What We’ve Begun (2) 🐻 DBF Ari Levinson x Female Reader
👑 Like A Moth To You Drabble 👑 Mr. Freezy x Female Reader
💍 On Another Level (3) 💍 Andy Barber x Female Reader
#ari levinson x reader#mr. freezy x reader#jake jensen x reader#ari levinson fanfic#mr. freezy fanfic#jake jensen fanfic#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale fanfic#andy barber x reader#andy barber fanfic#coming soon:#lloyd hansen x reader#tw kidnapping#kidnapping#attic wife trope#basement wife trope#dark#dark fic#non con#tw non con#dub con#tw dub con#masterlist#attic wives anonymous#attic wives anonymous masterlist#18+#minors dni
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hi! can we get an unwrapped update with andy, reader and their baby?
….damn you, nonnnie, you started a mini-series. i started drabbling out the update, and then it just… got away from me. for those of you who are new here, this is a direct sequel to Unwrapped.
Title: Return to Sender [1 of 7]
Pairing: Dark!Andy Barber x Reader
Summary: Andy Barber promised he would never let you go, and come hell or high water, he’s going to keep that promise.
Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Kidnapping, Minor Violence, Gaslighting, Basement Wife Trope, Manipulation
A/N: i never actually intended to revisit this series, but… the muse strikes where she strikes, lol.
The bright sunlight makes you squint, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sudden intensity as they adjust. The air smells clean and fresh and distinctly summer; cut grass and charcoal smoke. The baby gurgles in her carrier, and you adjust her on your hip, peering down to make sure the sun-shield is properly covering her sensitive skin. She coos at you, reaching chubby hands up to grab at your fingers. Wide, blue-grey eyes peer up at you from the soft roundness of her face—her father’s eyes—and apprehension knots your stomach.
Suddenly the air around you feels thick and crowded, and you wonder if maybe you should go back inside, back to your room, and wait until next week.
I’m fine, you tell yourself, your knuckles going white as you grip the infant carrier. You know that the only reason you want to return to the comfort of your home—your prison—is because of Andy. For the last fourteen months, he had condensed your world down to a single point.
Him.
The ankle monitor you’d left on the dresser upstairs had made quite sure of that.
I just want you to be safe, sweetheart. Don’t you understand?
Dove claps her hands together and blows wet raspberries in her carrier, snapping you back to the present. If you stay any longer, you’ll miss the bus, and you know what tarrying means—
Another week of Andy and his relentless affection. The syrup-sweet praise on his tongue turning sour on yours, another week of feeling your walls crumble against the poisonous kindness he pushed on you at every turn. It would have been better if he was cruel, because then you think it might be easier to hate him. Instead, you look down at Dove and remember Andy’s hand on the swell of your belly, him whispering softly through your skin to her as she grew.
Tears gather in your eyes as you fight through the cloud of anxiety to the front gate. Most of your neighbors—Andy’s neighbors, you try to remind yourself that this isn’t your home, Andy isn’t your husband, despite the diamond on your finger—will already be gone for work now.
Less people to see us leaving.
You know Andy will be angry when he comes home and finds you missing, the monitor abandoned. But that won’t be for some time yet, not until he comes home from work.
And by then, you’ll be with Irene.
You puff a little, hefting Dove’s carrier onto your shoulder as you make your way to the bus stop. There’s only one, at the mouth of the wealthy cul-de-sac. You’d found her number scrawled in the back of a self help book at the library, one Andy had promptly made you put back.
“What do you need that for, sweetheart? I don’t hit you. Don’t scream at you. Am I really so bad?” Your throat tightens, and you hate yourself for wondering the same thing.
I can help you get out, her first email had been blunt. But you need to be ready to start from zero.
You run over the plan in your head as you wait for the bus, trying to hide behind the curtain of your hair as cars roll by. You’re supposed to take the bus into the city, where Irene would meet you. And then from there—Canada.
I can’t wait if you’re late, she’d warned you. There are other people depending on me too.
The bus arrives, lowering itself with a hiss. The doors slide open, and you press change into the driver’s hand. You can’t use your card, not anymore. You settle yourself against the window, an arm over the carrier. Dove coos as the bus rocks forward, and the old woman in front of you turns around, a wide smile on her face.
“Adorable baby.”
You force a smile, railing against Andy’s indoctrinated anxieties—no one will protect you like me, honey, the world’s a scary place—
“Thank you.” You grit out the words. She waves down at Dove, who promptly sticks her own foot into her mouth.
“How old?”
“Six months.”
“Oh how wonderful! Congratulations!” She beams another cheerful smile at you, and you have trouble returning it. Her gaze falls to the duffel bag you have shoved up against the window. “Do you have a long trip planned?” She asks, and you can tell that though she’s being polite, she’s prying. Panic rises further in your chest, bile burning in your throat. Does she know Andy? Has she been watching you? Watching you for him?
You’re being paranoid, honey. You can hear his taunting voice in your head, and with jerky movements, you lower the sun shield on Dove’s carrier, blocking her from view.
“Are you meeting your husband somewhere? It must be such a pain to travel with all these bags and the baby—” You yank on the cord, signaling to the driver that you want the bus to stop.
“No—I mean yes, I’m—I have to go,” you stammer, grabbing your bag and Dove and barreling out into the aisle as the bus slows down. This isn’t your stop—you’re a full four stops early—but you can’t be on the bus anymore, you just can’t. Not with this old woman and her questions, and—what if this is all Andy? Testing you?
And you’re failing it?
You’re panting, tears gathering in your wide eyes as you practically flee the bus, half running down the sidewalk until it passes you. You keep your head down, you don’t want to know if the old woman is still watching you.
What if she was just trying to help?
You shake your head—it doesn’t matter. Irene had told you to try and keep as low of a profile as you could, and that meant not making new friends while you were fleeing the father of your child. Finally, the adrenaline peters out and you slow to a walk, your legs cramping. You haven’t moved like that in a long time—mostly because you’re confined to the house when Andy isn’t around. “For your safety”, he says, but you know better.
He doesn’t want you getting out, going home to the parents he’s been feeding lies upon lies about your condition.
But you aren’t going back to them at all—you’re doing what Irene said you should do. You’re starting from zero.
You’re five minutes late when you finally arrive at the bus terminal, your throat tight with anxiety. What if she’d left without you? What if you’d blown your only chance at escape by being exactly what Andy said you were—
A mess. A lovable mess, but honeybee, you need me to make the pieces fit—
“You’re late.” You turn, tears brimming in your wide eyes to face the stranger behind you. Irene is short, shorter than you, but you can see she’s muscular underneath the t-shirt she’s wearing. “You’re lucky I waited, come on.” She motions for you to follow her, and after a moment you do, still juggling Dove and your bag.
“Y-you’re Irene, right?”
“Yep. Car’s this way, in the back. You said he gets off of work at five, it’s three thirty. Let’s get a move on.” You follow her to a gray Subaru behind the bus depot, with California plates. She opens the trunk, and you mumble out a thank you when she motions for you to hand her your bag. “You’re not the first person I’ve done this for, but I want to make sure you aren’t the last. He’s not put any… tracking devices on or in you, right?”
“N-no. I had an ankle monitor, but I-I left that at the house. And my phone, and credit cards too. No computer, or anything.”
“Good.”
She helps you load Dove into the car-seat, and you hesitate to get into the front.
“Is it okay if… if I sit back here?”
“Sure.”
When the engine starts, you feel both relief and apprehension—you know Andy won’t give up easily, but his reach could only extend so far, right? You were going to disappear, to vanish like smoke through his fingers.
You just had to want it bad enough.
—
Andy pulls into the driveway, leaving his briefcase on the seat as he exits the car. Jacob is in the back seat, crashing two action figures together as he makes explosion sounds with his mouth. Andy chuckles at the sight of it.
“You ready to go see your sister, bud? I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you,” Andy replies as he unbuckles him. Jacob nods vigorously.
“Yeah! And m-mom.” He’s still getting used to calling you mom, but it grows less and less noticeable each day, especially with how good you are with him. You’re a natural, just like he’d known you would be. Jacob hops down out of the car, and scrambles for the front gate. It usually gives him trouble—his little fingers can’t quite manage the latch just yet—but it’s wide open this time.
Andy narrows his eyes.
“Wait for me, bud, okay?” He says, catching his son by the arm. Something’s not right. He walks up the familiar steps, holding his keys quiet with his palm so he can listen before unlocking the door. Jacob bounds inside, dropping his action figures one by one as he goes.
“Dove!” He calls, his little voice sing-song-y. “Mommy!”
There’s no answer.
At this time of day, you’re usually feeding Dove, dinner ready on the stove for him and Jacob—but the oven is cold, and there’s nothing set out at all. Andy moves quickly up the stairs to check the baby’s room, and he grits his teeth when he finds the crib empty, and the sheets cold to the touch. The master bedroom is empty too, the dresser drawers pulled out, and—
Your fucking monitor.
Andy wants to yell, throw things—and he contemplates it as he scrubs his hands through his hair and down his face.
You’re gone. Really gone, and the baby, too.
“Daddy, where’s—”
“She went to go see some friends,” Andy replies quickly, his voice cracking just a little. “Mommy will be back soon.”
He heats up leftovers from the fridge for Jacob, and while he eats messily at the dinner table, Andy pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. He can’t believe you’re really gone, that you’d really left—
That you’d dared.
Three weeks in the basement wasn’t long enough.
Andy had taken his time, soundproofing the little suite downstairs and outfitting it for your comfort. Minimal comfort, of course—he needed you to appreciate life upstairs. No contact, only your own thoughts and the drugged food Andy left for you while you’d slept. It had been hard on him, too, knowing you were down there alone and miserable, but he needed you to see things his way.
Clearly you don’t—not yet, anyway.
He knows he can’t trust his first instincts, the ones that are screaming for him to pack up the house, to smoke you out of hiding and bring you right back where you belonged. Here, with him. He’d done everything he could to make sure you were cared for, provided anything and everything you needed. And, once he’d thought you could be trusted, he’d take you on outings. To the store, to the library, anywhere you wanted to go.
You just couldn’t go alone.
“Eat up, Jake. I’ll be right back.” Andy steps out of the kitchen, standing in the living room as he holds his phone up to his ear.
“If you’re calling me, I know you’re waist deep in something terrible.” The man on the other line drawls, the voice dripping with pleased smugness. “Are you?”
“Shut up, Odinson,” Andy snaps. “You’re lucky I let you slide on that—”
“Yes, yes, I know, I owe you. Racketeering. Ugly word.”
“With worse charges.” Andy reminds him. “I need you to find someone for me.”
“Oh, interesting. Alive or dead?”
“Alive. And they had both better be so when I see them next or so help me, I will—”
“Fire and brimstone, Barber. I’ve quite got the picture.” Andy can hear Loki’s satisfied purr through the receiver, and it makes him want to hang the phone up, and try a different avenue all together. “So who did you lose?”
“My wife.” Andy grits. “She took the baby. She’s… she’s not well. I need you to find her, bring her home. I can take care of it from there.”
“Ouch. Opening up old wounds for you, eh Barber?”
“You have a week,” Andy growls. “To bring me my wife and daughter.”
“And on the off chance that I should fail?”
“Your case is just wrapping up, isn’t it?” Andy asks, enjoying the power flowing back in his direction as he tightens the reins. “I think it would be a shame if the prosecution were to discover new evidence.” He pauses to let the weight of his words sink in.
“And presumably you’ll be, what, waiting out the clock?”
“A week.” He hangs up without a further word. He doesn’t like Odinson, doesn’t trust him, but he knows people.
The kind of people who would be able to track you down, and return you to him without asking too many, if any, questions. Andy pokes his head into the kitchen to peek at Jacob making a mess of his spaghetti and meatballs, and verifies that at least some of the food is making it into his mouth before he makes another call. He needs to flush you out, spook you from your hiding place.
“Hello 911?”
Andy swallows thickly before answering, like his voice is heavy with tears he isn’t actually shedding.
“Yes, hello, police?” He says, his voice distraught. “I’d like to report a missing person.”
next
Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library for updates and new work, thank you!
Likes and comments are amazing, but reblogs are golden! Please consider sharing my work so that others can see it too!
#chris evans characters#chris evans imagine#chris evans x reader#andy barber smut#andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber x you#dark!andy barber#dark andy barber#andy barber imagine#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber x y/n#andy barber fanfic#boxofbonesfic#Return to sender fic
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I know one project I hope to post for the Cum Together Extravaganza. But since it's all about interaction, I thought I'd let you decide on potential second entry.
There will be three polls to combine three tropes/prompts from the proposed list
poll 1 | poll 2 | poll 3
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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 ❤️🔥
Daddy’s finally home and we must celebrate the moustache revolution !! With the release of The Gray Man on Netflix, I’m throwing a party centred around Lloyd Hansen. This means anything Lloyd Hansen x reader, absolutely any au or trope, I’ve written many, so I’m always excited for ones !! Send whatever your slutty heart desires, friends 🥰 (the party name is a lie bc i love Lloyd the way he is 👹) | PSA | AU PSA
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬:
𝐋𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝-𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 | July 22–23 (REQUESTS CLOSED)
˚*｡:°☾ 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: must be related to the party theme! these can be about any of my current works or fresh ideas/prompts | (˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ | 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬) (CLOSED)
𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬: all things Lloyd: any aus, TGM!Lloyd (the crime daddy, CIA assassin), dilf, DBF, BFD (best friend’s/boyfriend’s dad), professor, perv/sleazy!lloyd, pornstar au, hybrid!reader, innocent!reader, basement wife, pet play, soft dark/dark—send anything, I encourage the sluttiest behaviour possible !! | Before sending a prompt, please check the list below in case it has already been sent. No requests are guaranteed.
all asks/drabbles/things related to my celebration will be tagged under: #icfh party & all drabbles will be reblogged onto my library: @onsunnysidelibrary
PSA: since this party is centred around The Gray Man, everything to do with spoilers will be tagged with #the gray man spoilers. I already watched the movie, and online says it releases at 3am EST on Netflix.
Reminder: my blog is 18+ — minors DNI. [time zone converter]
𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐬: all fics, drabbles, etc.
updated as they’re posted | [smut*]
boyfriend’s stepdad!Lloyd Hansen (ft. boyfriend!Ransom Drysdale)*
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧; one shot: Lloyd Hansen x stripper!reader, possible dark undertones, gunplay*
Lloyd’s kinks (#kinky lloyd):
dacryphilia* | knife play* | gunplay* | exhibitionism* | mhm balls* | you’re needy*
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞; mini masterlist of limited Lloyd AUs for this party !!
Includes: 𝐂��𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥 | 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝
#lloyd x bunny | #lloyd x brat | #lloyd x innocent!reader.
he corrupts you* | he takes you on vacation*
Prisoner!Lloyd (#prisoner!lloyd): concept | in his cell*
𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲; one shot: Lloyd Hansen x cat hybrid!reader, dark undertones, exhibitionism, mean!daddy!lloyd*
Demon!Lloyd (#demon!lloyd): his forked tongue* | fic concept
pervy gymnast coach!Lloyd Hansen x innocent!reader alone at the gym* | through your leotard* | punishment: stationary bike*
professor!Lloyd Hansen & professor!Ari Levinson: good dom, bad dom*
(#assassin!reader)*
The Hansen Twins (#hansen twins): Lloyd Hansen & Mr. Freezy
Bully!Lloyd x cute nerd!virgin!reader (#bully!lloyd)
by the Lloyd Hansen enthusiast anon: sneaking onto Lloyd’s private beach* | you fuck up a mission*
Lloyd Hansen x captive housewife!reader*
#petplay au
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I Live to Serve Soldier Boy
Summary: Soldier Boy needs you, and you’ll do good to remember you serve him
Pairings: Soldier Boy X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, non con/dub con, PIV sex, unprotected sex, bondage, breeding kink, creampie, kidnapping, basement wife tropes, Stockholm Syndrome, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 2K
Soldier Boy Masterlist
A/N: For @duhitzdae this came from her amazing idea.
There was a few reasons why your father told you to go unnoticed, the major one was powers you never quite understood. Never could fully get the hang of them and he feared for you. Marvin, otherwise known as Mother’s Milk, knew there would be people who found out about you. That somehow, someone would learn of these unexplainable powers, and exploit them as if they were their own.
You were told, if you were to be out in public, blend in at all cost. The problem was, you had your father’s enemy number one, who could not get you out of his head. Soldier Boy had seen you out with your father, and he became obsessed.
He wasn’t aware of those green orbs that would glow on your hands. Because your father forbade you to use those powers, you weren’t even sure what they did. Soldier Boy had no idea, and wouldn’t even care. Because you were for him.
It was you that had entranced him. He felt an unexplainable pull towards you, and could not stay away. His green eyes watched you from the distance. Getting closer each time, close enough to smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume. Close enough to see the color of your eyes, and he knew you felt it too.
Soldier Boy could sense that change in you. Getting your own whiff of him had your head twisting around in search for the captivating aroma.
His mouth turns up into a sinister grin, promising you, “Soon, Angel. Soon, you’ll be mine.”
When he followed you to your parents house, and seeing you kiss your father goodbye, he could feel his cock twitch at the sound of your sweet voice saying, “Bye, daddy.”
He knew the hatred that MM had for him, and that made the challenge of getting you that much stronger. Soldier Boy had needs, and even bigger needs since he swore off cheap pussy. He wanted that tangy cherry that settled between your thighs.
He knew that tonight was the night. The night that he made you his, at any cost. You were going to be alone, no roommate. And while he’s thankful, he wants to shun anyone that would dare leave you unattended. You deserved the world, you poor pitiful thing. He knew it was time.
He couldn’t stand to wait anymore. His cock was aching and only your tight pussy could make him feel better. He knew you were going to be a sore mess after he got his hands on you. He couldn’t help it that you held out on him for too long. He needed it. He needed to keep you filled, and claim you. You would make the perfect woman for his sons. So perfect.
You were going about your normal routine, silly girl, you should have changed it up. Soldier Boy knew every move you were going to make. Knew what part of the house you were going to be in.
You didn’t even notice his looming body in your closet as you grab out an oversized shirt. Didn’t feel him walk closer to you as soon as your head hit the pillow. Had no idea he was there until those words that are forever etched in your mind whispered off your lips, “I’ve waited so long for this.”
Your body jerks up in the bed, seeing the man that your dad kept hung on his office wall. Had seen his face your whole life. How were you to know why your dad hated him so much. Steadying your hands out, ready to do…something with your unused powers as he walks closer.
You hold up your hands, your fingers already creating that soft glow, but he only smiles bigger. Making the glowy green orbs around your hand you point them at him. His own eyes matching your orbs, and making them that more vibrant.
“You’re even more precious than I thought. We’re perfect for each other. It’s like you were made just for me,” gritting his teeth you see a heat literally build in his belly, before he stops himself. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want you.”
“I don’t fucking think so.”
He steps right up to you quick. Grabbing at your cheeks, his fingers digging into your sensitive skin, but there isn’t the soft look from before, “You’ll watch your fucking mouth. No wife of mine will talk to me like that.”
You spit in his face, and he wipes the salvia off of him. Twisting his slicked up fingers around in his face, “You wanna play hard to get, hmm? This will be a perfect way to get that cunt good and wet. I wanted you as my wife, but you’ll be perfect for my little fuck doll. Your whore holes only used for my amusement. I’ll have you pumped so full of my cum, eventually it’ll take. Just think of the perfect sons we’ll have. They’ll be unstoppable.”
It finally registers what this man is wanting, but when you try to resist, his free hand grabs ahold of your arm, squeezing it tightly. “You’ll do good to know your place, and that’s laying on your back with your legs spread, cunt warm and wet, so you can take my fat cock. And if that isn’t enough, you can choke on my dick. I really don’t care. Your holes are mine now. Your daddy left you vulnerable. Do you even know how to use your powers, Angel? Do you think you could defeat me? I can fucking kill Homelander. What can you do?”
He throws your body over his shoulder, starting to leave your house. No amount of kicking and screaming helps. It’s like everyone in the city is purposely ignoring you because of the American hero that carries you to some unknown location.
Traveling through the night swiftly before he takes you to his dingy home. Expertly tying you up to the bedposts, spreading your legs apart to do the same. You cry up at him pleading. “Either you give me what I want and comply, or you get tied up, and I take it. Either way, it’s mine. What will it be? I haven’t got all day. I haven’t blown a load in weeks waiting on you.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Yeah, you do,” he smiles nodding his head. Clearly he knows way more about you, than you know him. “What’s it gonna be?”
Soldier Boy beautifully juggles a knife with his hand. His body stalking over you, before slicing off your clothes. Making this moment almost sensual with the crawling pace he uses with his knife. “You’ll learn. You’ll become molded to my cock, and swollen with my child.”
“Stop,” you plead as he flicks aside the cotton material. The swells of your tits heaving with your breath, and he curiously rubs his fingers over them. Watching with bated breath as your nipples pebble up with his motions. No amount of pleading no, makes him change his mind.
The hand on your wrist moving to your neck as he leans toward. His mouth connecting to your buds, giving each one little nibbles. His tongue flicking over them, before his mouth fully connects. Sucking hard, and had your hands not been bound, you don’t know if you would want to hold on tighter to yourself, or try to push him away.
“You want it, I know you do,” his body moving between your thighs. Using his knees to spread you further apart. Your voice caught in your throat, “There’s a sweet girl.”
Too quickly he pulls his clothes off his body. If this been a different scenario, you would have appreciated Soldier Boy’s beauty. Your eyes rake down his hard body, whimpering when his cocks breaks free. “How have you survived this long without me? Look at cha, you were made just for me.”
His hand slides up your covered slit, and he tilts his head to the side, an animalistic moan crawls up his throat, “If you didn’t want this, why are you so wet? I promise. We’re gonna be so good for each other.”
Crawling into the bed, he rips your panties off, sighing at the sight of your sex. Watching anxiously as he lines himself up to your quivering cunt. A deep chested scream echos out of your mouth when he punches into your tight hole. Giving you no time to adjust as he thrusts into you.
Stretched tight around his thick length, seems his muscles weren’t the only thing enhanced. Biting at your lip as the feral man pleasures himself, using you as his fleshlight. Not even caring how you’re feeling. “You’ll get used to me. And when I break you, I’ll make sure you get something out of this. You will take me. You’ll beg for me.”
His brows furrowed, and his hand grips the bed frame, panting breaths, and long deep stabs into you, yourself right at the edge of release, but then you feel his seed paint thick warm ribbons into your cunt, and you whine up at him.
“It won’t be that easy,” pulling himself out of you, he watches as his spunk leaks out of your core. Popping his neck, he gives you a sly grin, “Don’t go anywhere. I’m gonna get us some water and do this again. I have the best stamina. Don’t worry. After about the third round, you’ll probably pass out and won’t remember how many times I’ve fucked you.”
Your dad and Butcher’s eyes roam around the long hallway. Stealthy and quiet, it had been a couple of years since MM last saw you, and he hadn’t given up. Hadn’t stopped looking, and he’s positive he’s found the location.
Stepping into a bright room, he sees you cradling a little baby. The brightest smile on your face as you coo down to your daughter. He says your name, and you look up at him, “Hey, father. I was wondering when you would see me. Meet your granddaughter Evernie Judith.”
He stares horrified at the almost one year old. Her hands with a soft green glow when she spots him.
“Evie, that’s your grandpa.”
“Where have you been? Whose baby is that?”
“She’s been here,” Soldier Boy steps out of the shadows. Smirking as he comes to stand behind you. His hand presses on your stomach, and that’s when your father finally sees the swelling of your tummy. “I’m hoping this is my boy.”
“Dada,” the baby reaches up towards him, and he holds her with a smile. Her eyes glow, much like Soldier Boy’s powers.
“Is this man scaring sweetheart? I can’t have you scaring my daughter MM.”
Butcher walks through, a gun pointed right at Soldier Boy, and you shriek. Your own body going to cover your family’s. “No! Don’t you hurt them,” Evernie’s eyes glow even brighter, and your hands explode with a green protective shield around you. “Just leave! Your scaring her. She doesn’t do this unless she’s scared. That’s…he’s her daddy.”
“I am,” his hand wraps around your stomach, fingers splaying out on the bump, while Evernie finally calms down. Giving her dad a little giggle. “Her powers are more like mine. Her mother is our sweet shield. Funny how that works out, huh? You wouldn’t try to take me from my family would you? Leave my kids without a father. Who better to help them navigate their powers than me. I think our son is going to be even stronger. And then she’ll give me more sons. Have us a fierce little army.”
“Father, please leave.”
“What did he do to you?”
“He rescued me. I live to serve him now.”
“You heard the woman,” Soldier Boy smiles at the man who had hated him his whole life. “She was in fact made for me. I guess that’s why you kept her hidden from me. I’ll take good care of her.”
“This isn’t over,” he looks over at the baby in Soldier Boy’s arms, as her body starts to glow again. A high pitched screech as she only looks at MM.
“Aye, for fuck’s sake let’s deal with this later. That’s going to be like a fucking bomb, and we won’t live. Let’s get our asses out of here and we’ll deal with the fucking psychopath later.”
Your dad doesn’t want to leave, but a supe that didn’t understand her powers was a dangerous thing. Couldn’t even explain those powers to a baby. She just knew her dad was being threatened, along with her mom. “I’ll be back.”
“I’m sure you will. Evernie’s strength is growing though. Imagine what terrible twos is going to be like. Have fun. We may have our third one on the way by then.”
“I’m where I belong. I live to serve Soldier Boy.”
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @thedarkplume @pono-pura-vida @akshi8278
#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy smut#soldier boy fanfiction#the boys#the boys fanfiction#mother's milk#soldier boy fic#soldier boy x you#soldier boys x y/n#jensen ackles#jensen ackles character
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PLEASE SIR can we hear about the regency one 🤲🤲
Hello welcome to the regency AU I am picking at for my own amusement. It's Maevetash, marriage of convenience, Gortash is an up and comer who went to America to make money and is now back looking for a wife with a title, Maeve is the heir to a weird estate that she can only keep if she gets married.
This would be fine but on their wedding night, Gortash finds out Maeve is not a virgin, gets weird about it, and so the fic becomes the trope of trying to seduce your wife so you can consummate your marriage.
I have also decided that Maeve is unmarriageable because she's doing weird turn of the century medical experiments in her basement. But Gortash only knows that he's not allowed downstairs, so we have this scene. Jumping for length and no editing.
(Also yes if I keep picking at this, they are going to make out in that basement and maybe she gets blood on his cheek!)
Enver glares at the servant. “What do you mean the door is locked?”
Despite the edge that he has put into his voice, the servant continues stand tall. “Her ladyship has stated that the door to the lower floor is to remain locked at all times, my lord.”
“Am I not master of this home now?”
The servant bows his head. “Of course, my lord. You are indeed the lawful lord of this manor.”
“Then open the blasted door.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but I cannot. Her ladyship --”
Enver flexes his hand to keep from snatching up the bastard by his shirt. “To the hells with her ladyship, I will have someone break down the damned thing if I must. Now open it or I will have your job.”
A throat clears down the hallway and he narrows his eyes as he turns towards the source. Maeve is standing there, a burgundy stain of silk standing in stark contrast to the dark brown wood of the manor hallways. Her expression is smooth, the picture of good breeding and boredom. She lifts her chin. “Mr. Gortash, you seem to be in quite a state.”
He walks toward her until they are toe to toe, then looks down at her with his slight advantage in height. “What are you hiding down there, Maeve?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Such informality. I am not sure that emotional outbursts such as these will do you well in making allies in the House of Lords.”
“You are a conniving shrew of a woman and I will not have you forbidding me from entering part of my own property.” He leans forward, catching how her eyes flash in response. “So, I shall ask again: what are you hiding down there, Mrs. Gortash?”
“We agreed before we were married that you would not intefere in my life. But …” She smiles and the angle makes her canines look sharp. “If you think that you have the constitution for it, I am happy to show you, my lord.”
The concession is too easily won. “And what will I see if I go with you?”
“The future,” she says.
She puts her hand on his arm, their first touch since that blasted night that went sideways, and he lets her turn him back towards the door. The servant has slipped away and all that is before them is that big slab of wood and its many locks. She tucks her hand inside his forearm, as if he was about to escort her for a turn around a park. Instead, she tugs him forward.
“Come, husband. I think that it is time for you understand me a bit better.”
#asks#maevetash#THANK YOU#idk what to do with this thing#i mostly just wanted to write seduce your wife
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