#Dark Fics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ruewritesoccasionally · 10 days ago

Text

A Symphony of Sin | Terry Richmond

Pairing: Dark!Professor Terry Richmond x Dark! Black Reader

Warnings: extreme dark themes and smut (18+), stalking, obsessions, manipulation, teasing, jealousy, possessiveness, power dynamics, oral (m receiving), rough sex, choking, spitting, light slapping, hair pulling, degradation kink, praise kink, use of names (princess, slut, sweetheart) } everything is consensual but read at your own risk !

Summary: The final movement between her and Terry reveals who is really playing by the rules and who runs the game. The next moves are darker, more psychological, and with an even bigger power shift. By the end of it, she’ll know—this isn’t just her obsession anymore.

Word Count: 3.6K

a/n: this is a part 2 to 'Lessons in Obsession', one in which I initially had no intentions of writing because tbh sequels aren't my strength but @barnesnnobles comment inspired me to delve deeper so thank you bby. when i first started writing this, i didn't think it was going to be this dark but i think it's depraved in the best way 🤭...

The game had changed. She knew that. He had made sure of it.

Ever since that night—the night where her carefully constructed fantasy collided with his very real intentions—things had been different. She no longer watched from the shadows, no longer merely observed him like a scholar collecting data. No, now she felt him. Everywhere.

But the most dangerous thing?

She thought she had a handle on it.

Terry still carried himself with that same unbothered confidence, that slow, deliberate way he moved, as if every step, every glance, was calculated three moves ahead. In class, he was the same strict, enigmatic professor he had always been—sharp-minded, sharp-tongued, and completely unreadable.

And yet.

When she sat in his lecture hall, knees pressed together beneath the desk, hands folded as if she weren’t replaying the way those same hands had gripped her thighs, there were moments—fleeting, almost imperceptible—where she swore she saw something in his eyes. A flicker of amusement when she adjusted in her seat, when she bit her lip without realising, when she lingered a second too long after class.

She was under no illusions now. He was watching. He had always been watching.

And God, she loved it.

It started small.

Little things—things that no one else would think twice about, but she caught them.

“Some of you seem to be distracted today,” Terry remarked one afternoon, his voice even but laced with something dangerous. His gaze swept the lecture hall, pausing for a half-second too long when it landed on her. “If you’ve got something occupying your mind, I suggest you clear it before it gets in the way of your work.”

Her breath caught.

A warning.

He didn’t need to elaborate. She knew exactly what he meant.

The previous night was still seared into her skin—his mouth, his hands, the way he made her admit to everything. How she’d clung to him when he finally let her have what she’d been chasing for so long.

She shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together, pulse thrumming.

And Terry? He just continued lecturing, unbothered, as if he hadn’t just sent a shockwave straight to her core with a single sentence.

Then, he started testing her.

“Read the passage out loud,” he ordered one day, flipping through the textbook. “Slowly. Every word. Let’s see if you can follow simple instructions.”

Her stomach flipped.

She swallowed, gripping the page tighter, pulse pounding as she realised exactly what he was doing.

When she hesitated, Terry arched an eyebrow. “Having trouble, sweetheart?”

The term of endearment was so casual, so devoid of its usual weight, that no one else thought twice about it.

She knew better.

Heat flooded her cheeks as she parted her lips, voice coming out steady—too steady. She would not let him shake her. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

She read. Slowly.

And he watched.

The entire time.

She liked the game. The push and pull. So she pushed back.

One day, she lingered after class—not out of necessity, but out of something else.

“You’re staying late,” he remarked, not looking up from his notes.

She shrugged, feigning innocence. “Just needed some clarification on the assignment.”

Terry hummed, unconvinced, flipping the page in front of him. “You’re a smart girl. I find it hard to believe you don’t already know the answer.”

Her stomach clenched. The way he said smart girl—like he was reminding her exactly who had the upper hand.

She exhaled through her nose, willing herself to keep her composure. “Can’t a student just want a little extra guidance?”

That made him look up.

Slowly.

She swore she saw it then—the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth, the knowing glint in his eyes.

“You’ve got five minutes,” he said, his voice silky-smooth, as if they both didn’t know he was lying.

But then, she made a mistake.

She got too comfortable.

Too bold.

And she pushed too far.

It started as harmless flirting. A casual, easy smile to another professor in the hallway. A lingering laugh with a classmate in the library. Nothing that would have mattered before.

But now?

Now, everything mattered.

She should’ve noticed the way Terry’s eyes darkened when he caught the exchange. She should’ve registered the subtle shift in his body language when she walked into class the next day.

But she didn’t.

Not until he called on her, voice calm, smooth as glass.

“You. Come here.”

A command, not a request.

The air in the room changed. She felt it, like the drop in temperature before a storm.

She stood, swallowing hard as she walked to the front of the class, acutely aware of every pair of eyes watching her.

Terry gestured to the board. “Demonstrate the method we discussed last class.”

It wasn’t a difficult request. She knew the answer. But when she reached for the marker, her fingers trembled slightly.

She felt him behind her. Not close enough to be inappropriate, not close enough for anyone else to notice—

But she noticed.

Her heart pounded as she wrote, forcing herself to focus, to pretend she didn’t feel his presence like a second skin.

“Careful,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear. “Your hands are shaking.”

She froze.

His voice was even, calm. But when she turned her head slightly—just enough to catch the edge of his expression—she saw it.

The warning.

The punishment brewing just beneath the surface.

She’d underestimated him.

She’d thought she had control.

But one look at Terry told her exactly what was about to happen:

She was about to learn—again—who really held the leash.

She expected him to crack. To seethe, to glower, to grip the desk and try to control himself in that careful, calculated way he always did. She wanted him to react, to burn hot, to show her that she wasn’t the only one consumed.

But when she risked a glance at Terry?

He looked... calm.

Unbothered.

Like he didn’t just watch her bat her lashes at another man. Like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

And that unsettled her more than if he had reacted.

A coil of unease settled in her stomach. She didn’t like this. The game was theirs and theirs alone, a perfectly balanced scale of control. But now?

Now it felt like she had miscalculated. Like she had poked something she shouldn’t have.

That evening, as she lay in bed, her phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

No name. No explanation. Just a location, a time.

Nothing else.

Her stomach flipped, fingers tightening around her phone.

She shouldn’t go. She knew that. Knew it the way she knew that staring into the sun would burn, that running her tongue along the blade of a knife would slice.

But of course, she went.

Because no matter how much she wanted to believe she was the one obsessed—Terry had been keeping tabs on her too.

She just hadn’t noticed.

Not until now.

The address led her to a secluded townhouse. Upscale. Cold. The kind of place that felt too pristine to be truly lived in.

Her stomach tightened as she stepped inside. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of aged whiskey and something else, something undeniably him.

And there he was.

Sitting back in a leather chair, legs spread in that lazy yet controlled way of his. A glass of amber liquid in his hand.

Waiting.

Her throat went dry.

The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her fate.

Terry’s gaze dragged over her, slow, deliberate, like he was cataloguing every inch of her. He didn’t speak right away. Just watched. Let her squirm under the weight of his silence.

Then, finally—

“Sit.”

Her breath hitched.

“Don’t speak.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to move.

The moment she lowered herself into the chair across from him, he hummed, swirling the glass in his hand. “This rhetoric has become a habit, you know? Thinking that you’re clever, smarter than me, even.”

She opened her mouth—

He raised a hand. Don’t speak.

She clenched her fists in her lap.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You really thought that would work?” A small chuckle, rich and amused. “Thought you’d get a rise out of me? That I’d lose control?”

A pause. Then—

“Tell me, sweetheart—was it worth it?”

Her pulse pounded in her throat.

“I—”

He cut her off with a sharp look. “Don’t lie.”

She exhaled slowly. “I wanted your attention.”

“Mm. And now you have it.” He took a slow sip of his drink, letting the moment drag out. “The real question is... do you deserve it?”

A fresh wave of heat rolled through her, pooling low in her stomach.

She clenched her thighs together.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

Terry tilted his head, studying her. “You wanted to play, huh?” He set the glass down, leaning forward just enough to make the space between them feel smaller. “You wanted to make me jealous?”

Her breath caught.

He smirked. “Tell me, then. When you batted those pretty lashes at that boy, did it make you wet?”

Her thighs pressed tighter.

Terry’s eyes darkened.

He leaned back, stretching lazily. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous.” His fingers tapped against the arm of the chair, contemplative. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”

She swallowed hard.

“You’re going to sit there and do nothing.”

Her brows knit together.

His smirk widened. “No touching. No begging. No moving.” He let the words settle, watched the way her breath quickened. “You’re just going to sit there and take it.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Terry reached for his drink, taking another slow sip.

Then, as if it was a passing thought, he murmured, “If you’re good, I might even let you come.”

Heat licked up her spine.

She clenched her hands in her lap, nails digging into her palms.

Terry smirked.

God, she wanted to wipe it off his face.

Or maybe she wanted him to ruin her.

Either way, she was fucked.

Terry’s eyes never left her as he rose from his seat, his movements slow, deliberate. It was almost like he was savouring the moment. He didn’t need to speak, not yet—his presence alone was suffocating. His hands undid the buttons of his shirt with a purpose, the sound of fabric pulling apart thickening the already heavy air between them. Each movement, each pull, every inch of skin exposed to her gaze was calculated, meant to drive her mad with want and frustration.

His chest was broad, his abs defined and tight. He was the perfect picture of control, yet there was something in the way his eyes darkened that spoke to an ache—a hunger that matched her own, though he’d never admit it. Not yet. He kept stripping, undressing with that same cold composure, his gaze trained on hers with intensity. Every inch of him being revealed, the heat radiating from his body, only made the ache in her chest worse. She clenched her thighs together, desperate to release the tension, but he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Terry tilted his head, watching her squirm, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Look at you, all worked up. You thought you could control this, didn’t you?" His voice was smooth, mocking, but there was a bite under the words. "You thought you had it all figured out. Cute."

She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, but he raised a finger, stilling her. "Ah, ah, ah, princess. No talking. I didn’t tell you to speak. Remember your place." His voice was low, a command now, one she was afraid to disobey.

Her body trembled under his gaze, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as the realisation hit: She wasn’t in control. She’d never been. Every part of her wanted to push back, wanted to break free, but there was something in him—something dark—that made her feel small, insignificant. His dominance was suffocating, and she couldn’t escape it.

Terry leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. Briefly, it almost felt like he was comforting her, his hand cupping her cheek in a tender gesture. But then he whispered, low enough that only she could hear, “It’s okay, princess. Let me show you how it’s done.”

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. They weren’t soft. They weren’t comforting. It was a promise. One she was scared to face.

The words hung in the air, heavy with promise, and something primal stirred within her. Before she could brace herself, Terry’s hands were in her hair, yanking her face up to meet his gaze. His kiss was brutal—demanding, possessive, a clash of teeth and tongues, each second a battle for control. He pulled away just enough for her to gasp for air, before descending on her neck with vicious intent, his lips and teeth leaving marks as though he was claiming her.

"Come on now, Princess. You’re better than this" he murmured against her skin. "You thought you could push me. Make me jealous? Make me lose control? You really didn’t know how to play this game, did you?"

She gasped again as he pulled her forward, his hands on her throat now, his fingers light but unyielding. "I’ll show you what happens when you make me mad, sweetheart."

He didn’t wait for permission. He was already on her, his dick shoved into her mouth before she could even process the movement. She choked, the thick length stretching her jaw, her mouth forced open in a way that hurt. But it was a good hurt. A reminder of her place, of his control.

He groaned as he thrust deep, his hand holding the back of her head, guiding her to take more of him. She couldn’t even think, couldn’t breathe without his length hitting the back of her throat. He lost control in his own way—moans, growls, and guttural sounds poured freely from his parted lips, his knees bent ever so slightly, sweat trailing down every part of him that she’d been forbidden to touch. He reached down to feel the bulge in her throat, his length lodged perfectly there. The sensation nearly made him cum on the spot.

“It’s hard to talk back with your mouth full, isn’t it?” he growled. “Ugh, I wish you could see what I see right now. A fallen, over-ambitious slut too dumb to know when she’s been done.”

Her breath was shallow, her body trembling as he fucked her mouth with brutal force. She gagged, struggling to keep her composure as he forced his dick deeper, the back of her throat tightening with every thrust. She could feel him press against her, the sensation of him hitting her throat sending shocks of unwanted pleasure coursing through her.

“Such a good little toy,” he mocked, his voice dripping with both praise and contempt. “You wanted this, didn’t you? All you had to say is that you wanted me to yourself.”

She couldn’t answer. Not with her mouth full. She just moaned in response, her hands gripping the chair, nails digging into the armrests as he continued to ravage her with his thrusts.

His movements grew harder, faster, each thrust forcing her to take more of him. The ache in her jaw was almost unbearable, but the pain was secondary now. She was losing herself in the brutal rhythm of it all, in the way he made her feel so small, so insignificant, her body betraying her with each muffled moan that escaped her.

Terry pulled away from her mouth suddenly, making her gasp for air, but the moment she exhaled, he was on her again. His hands were everywhere—gripping her, tearing her clothes off, exposing her skin to his hungry touch. He worshipped her body, trailing his fingers over every curve, every stretch mark, every dip and rise of her form like it was a work of art he couldn’t get enough of. Her lingerie, the way it hugged her body, the way her skin glowed beneath it—he wanted to consume it all.

The sex itself was equally as pleasureful as it was torturous, a reminder that the moment she pushed him, she hadn’t broken his resolve—she had played into his hands once more. His actions juxtaposed his words, his touch both cruel and reverent. Her body was a canvas to him, a fragile porcelain doll not to be broken—unlike her mind. He admired every detail she put into her looks, how her lingerie complemented her dark, rich skin tone, the swell of her breasts, the stretch marks that looked almost hand-painted as they adorned the curves he had claimed. He trailed down her body, inhaling her sweet, natural scent like it was something sacred. He would kill for even just a vial of it.

His fingers slid down, finding the slickness between her legs. A low, satisfied hum vibrated from his chest as he pushed into her, slow at first, drawing out her moans, savouring the way her body clenched around him. Then faster. Harder. He swallowed each gasp, each cry, consuming her whole. She was on the edge of something—something dangerous, something that would burn her alive. But she couldn’t stop it.

Terry’s hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to steal the breath from her lungs. Her pulse throbbed beneath his fingers, her body trapped between the firm press of his palm and the unrelenting pace he set. “Open your mouth,” he murmured, his eyes dark with something almost sinister—daring her to disobey. When her lips parted, his grip tightened just slightly before he let a slow stream of spit drip onto her waiting tongue.

“Swallow,” he ordered, watching intently as she obeyed, the heat in his gaze burning straight through her.

His fingers weaved into her hair again, the motion almost tender—until he yanked, sharp and sudden, pulling her back into the moment with a quick slap across her cheek. It wasn’t meant to hurt, not really. It was a reminder. A warning. A claim. The sting barely registered against the flood of pleasure overtaking her, her body betraying her, arching into him, silently pleading for more.

The kisses were a battle, all tongue and teeth, his dominance bleeding into every movement. He took everything she had, demanded more, never relenting—never letting her forget exactly who was in control.

He practically imprinted himself onto her, searing his every being into her flesh so he could never be mistaken for anyone else, and certainly not the lesser in this dynamic. They were equals in their obsession, but one always had the upper hand—to remind the other not to get too comfortable. Someone had to know what was lurking around the corner.

He held her down, fucking her hard, relentless, until she couldn’t think anymore. Until her moans became cries, until her body was trembling beneath his weight, her mind untethered from reality. His words blurred into a haze of pleasure and pain. She was floating in it, drowning in it, lost in the brutal rhythm he set. But it felt like freedom.

He was still in control. She was still his.

And as he came, shuddering against her, his body trembling with the force of it, he pulled her close, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a low, breathless whisper—

"You’ll never be the one in charge, sweetheart. Not now. Not ever."

Terry had barely left the room when her eyes landed on his briefcase, tucked neatly in the corner, the edge of a notebook peeking out. The sight of it sent a strange thrill through her, curiosity slithering up her spine. He had always been meticulous—calculated—but something about the way that notebook sat, slightly exposed, made it feel like an invitation.

She hesitated for a moment. Then, lightly stepping across the room, she reached for it.

The moment she flipped it open, her breath caught in her throat.

Pages and pages. Notes scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting. Her name repeated over and over. Every move she had made, every place she had been. Polaroids tucked between the pages—some she recognised, old photos she thought were buried in her past. Others… others she had never seen before. Shots of her walking home. Eating with friends. Sleeping.

Her hands trembled as she turned another page. More details. Names of her past lovers, their habits, their schedules. Addresses—previous and current. The make and model of her car, the exact date and time of her last oil change. A level of detail that made her own obsessive notes on him seem amateur, laughable.

She should have been horrified. And maybe, deep down, she was. But mostly? Mostly, she was impressed.

All this time, she thought she was the one keeping tabs, the one pulling strings, feeding her obsession in secret. But compared to this? Her work was nothing but a failed imitation of his masterpiece.

She was so enthralled, so absorbed in his twisted devotion, that she didn’t hear him return.

A quiet throat clearing made her snap the book shut, her heart hammering against her ribs. She turned, and there he was—standing in the doorway, watching her with an unreadable expression. But there was no panic, no urgency. No fear.

Because why would he be afraid? He had intended for her to see this one day. He had wanted her to know.

Terry stepped forward, slow, deliberate. A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he leaned down, his voice a low murmur, thick with satisfaction.

“As you can see, sweetheart,” he said, his fingers trailing along the cover of the notebook, “you were mine from the moment you stepped into my class.”

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @notapradagurl7 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @wildcardmelaninfreak

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

#ruewrites #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fic #terry richmond #terry richmond x dark!black!reader #dark!terry richmond #dark!terry richmond x black!reader #professor!terry richmond #professor!terry richmond x black reader #dark fics #aaron pierre #terry richmond x dark!reader

248 notes · View notes

yanderefics-recs · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere/Dark! Cheaters Recs

for the readers who loves angst, groveling, and some spice like me <3

as of December 2023

The Unsaid Vow by @laughing-with-god (patreon/tumblr) (ongoing)

Remarks: you are married to Jungkook and you have a kid together. You suspect him of cheating however and when you try to leave he gets triggered

A Bird In A Gilded Cage by JUNMAK0 (ao3) (finished)

Remarks: your soulmate, Ushijima, has trust issues due to your past life and was initially not excited to meet you. Still, you grow to be in love but trouble ensues. (just when you think ushijima is healing he swerves around to the other side)

Yandere!Cheater hcs by @hyerinrose

brief sypnosis: a fun oc by hyeinrose

Hoax by @moonlitinks (tumblr) (ongoing)

Remarks: you're in an arranged marriage with ari levinson who has some prejudice about you and is repulsed by you (this one gets pretty dark in the beginning but lightens up as it progresses)

When you found out they cheated on you (hyung line) and (maknae line) by @wildestdreamsblog

Remarks: title is pretty self explanatory

When you tried to move on from them (hyung line) and (maknae line) by @wildestdreamsblog

brief sypnosis: a continuation of "when you found out they cheated on you" (groveling ensues 😈)

Yandere!Hero x Reincarnated!Reader by @bunny-yan

Remarks: the hero and reader are childhood lovers but it's not a cute story wherein they get to be together after the hero's job. The angst reoccurs in lifetimes (the concept of this one is pretty unique so i rlly recommend giving it a read :>)

Where did you go?, pt 2 by @ishouldbeinh0rnyjail

Remarks: gojo satoru got caught cheating by you and went insane trying to get you back (this one was delicious)

Fuckboy! Maknae line trying to convince you to stay by @yandere-society

Remarks: fun drabble! these men are toxic and assholes but it's kinda hot and they say they love you so... 😝

Man In The Mirror, pt 2 by Momo-chan (Quotev)

Remarks: another very unique concept! It's about you being in a loveless arranged marriage but you meet another you in a mirror that leads to a parallel universe

Superbia by alissabex (wattpad) (oneshot)

Remarks: good lord this one is memorable! Every now and then i come back to that oneshot. It's pretty long too so pretty satisfying!

Til Death Do Us Part by ASumOfWords (ao3) (oneshot)

Remarks: THIS ONE HITS EVERY FUCKING SPOT IM NOT KIDDING!!! I was in a particularly darker mood for this one sooooo yeah. Dark!Aemond hides his grief of losing his wife (aka you leaving his ass) underneath his anger. Lowkey wish there'd be more of his feelings in the piece but the author does pretty well with leaving it to the imagination

#yandere cheaters #yandere #soulmate au #angst #hurt/comfort #yandere fics #dark fics #dark #dark fic #ari levinson #jungkook #ot7 #bts #haikyuu #x reader #reader insert #fic recs #dark fic recs

892 notes · View notes

zombzomb · 6 months ago

Text

i need one of three things in life:

a: 141 member dating Reader or having hidden a married Reader and finally introducing them to the rest of the 141 and all of them falling in love with reader

b: Reader matching the murderous freak of a 141 serial killer

c: femdom!Reader with her subby 141 spouse (sexually and non sexually)

#zom’s recipe #cod #task force 141 #poly141 x reader #poly141 #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #cod x reader #fic rec #dark fics

192 notes · View notes

highonmarvel · 2 years ago

Text

You Can Cry

Bucky Barnes: Biker!Bucky takes a liking to a sensitive girl. 18+ only!

content warnings here!

You wipe away tears as you impatiently wait for your ride to arrive, tapping your foot and hugging yourself. You don’t know why you always get so emotional, get brought to tears so easily, and your sensitivity slightly angers you, being irritated that you still cry like a child at the most silly things.

Your date had only laughed when you stared at him blankly, asking him to explain his joke again, and the rational part of you was sure he didn’t mean any harm, the rational part of you was sure it was lighthearted—he was a nice guy—but still you felt that familiar sting in your eyes at the response.

Even when you brought the night to a close, you refused a ride home from him, denying it so harshly he was stuck at the table for a bit when you stormed out, hot tears staining your cheeks, and you didn’t see him leave—maybe he was still inside and talking up another girl who didn’t take every little thing so personally.

“You sad, pretty girl?”

You startle at the voice and snap your head up to follow the sound, leading your eyes to a tall man wearing a leather jacket, leaning against the wall of the next building over to the restaurant you had stomped out of. He cards a hand through his hair and steps forward, and instinctively you step back, feeling an air of danger about him, darker than just a mugger in the night.

You wipe away the last of your tears and sniffle softly before quickly bring your focus back to the street, mentally pleading for your driver to pull up, too scared to fish your phone back out of your bag to check how far he was, and clutching your purse tighter.

He groans, “Please, sweetheart, I’m talkin’ to you.”

“No,” you reply, quietly, not making a move to look back up at his captivating blue eyes, a slight fear that if you look back at him, you’ll never be able to look away again. Or he’ll be the last thing you see, “I’m not.”

“You sure, princess?” he takes another step toward you, and this time you can’t muster up the courage to move away, frozen still, “Looked like you were cryin’.”

You grow irritated not with him but more with yourself, for somehow having shown such weakness to a man in the shadows—but how could you have known?

“I wasn’t,” you lie, finding yourself holding back tears again, begging any higher power out of the dozens believed to help you out just this one time and have your driver pull around the corner. The streets are empty and quiet, the only two people in the world you and him, and the only noise his painstakingly slow footsteps towards you, and your rapidly beating heart, “I wasn’t,” you repeat again, predicting you would sound more confident, but your voice cracks, and you wince at the sound of his sigh in response.

“Aw, don’t cry,” you gasp as he suddenly pulls you flush against his chest, caging your body to his with his right arm pressing into your lower back and his left gently gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. A smile spreads across his gorgeous face as your tears well up. You want to look to the sky to stop drops from falling, but you can’t, not because of his light grip, but because of that sadistic glint in his eyes, absolutely fascinating you.

A drop spills from an eye, and he tilts his head, watching it roll down your cheek. Your eyes glisten with tears and his glisten with delight, relishing in each drop that rolls down your cheek, as you can do nothing but stare up helplessly at him, paralysed by fear.

He leans down and presses a light kiss on your cheek, one you might have found loving if given to you by someone close.

“You’re so pretty,” he remarks, bringing his other hand up to cup your face, unconcerned with keeping you near, knowing you can’t move if you tried. He rubs calloused thumbs across your cheeks, wiping the tears away as he admires your features, “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, gaze roaming your face until they land on your terrified eyes, and he smiles again.

“What? Never learned how to take a compliment, princess?”

You blink up him, starting to tremble very slightly, your mouth slightly agape. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you manage a meek, “Thank you…”

“Bucky,” he mumbles.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you repeat, just wanting him to let you go, at this point completely disinterested with where your driver is, just him to leave you alone.

“Now, won’t you tell a nice guy like me why you’re cryin’? Did someone hurt you?”

You shake your head weakly, willing yourself to just stop fucking crying.

“Don’t lie to me,” he grips your face slightly firmer, not hard, but enough to make you understand his determination, “Did some guy make you cry, angel?” he asks, gently.

Despite your better judgement, you nod; maybe that is the best judgement, to just respond the way he wants so he might just leave you alone. No, your compliance is only seeming to spur him on, as shown by a pity frown taking shape on his face, and you can’t quite place if he’s mocking you or trying to seem more empathetic in some weird way.

“No, a sweet girl like you?” he places a kiss on your forehead, “You’re precious, angel.”

You shift uncomfortably, unable read the situation, unable to tell if he’s just fucking with you or if he feels bad. And you don’t have to, because just as he pulls away to look at you, you hear tyres against gravel, a car pulling around the corner, snapping you out of your… trance, and whipping your head to see a white corolla.

“Stay beautiful, doll,” Bucky says, and he slips into the shadows before you can grasp it. Cold air rushes against your cheeks—you hadn’t realised his hands were relatively warm—making you feel more exposed. For good measure, you quickly wipe away tears before hoping into the car with a smile to your driver.

Your date texts you the next morning, apologises for upsetting you—even though he doesn’t know how—and asks for a redo, or a second date, kinda, he puts it. With a clear mind, you do feel bad for being so dramatic and overly sensitive last night, and thinking back on it, a little rude with how short you were being with him when all he did was laugh lightly, it wasn’t malicious. He was a nice guy. You’re still shaken from the previous night, but maybe a casual date will relax you.

You agree, and he immediately responds, suggesting another restaurant for that evening.

You feel very pretty in your dress as you enter the restaurant and sit at table. You had arrived only 10 minutes late, so maybe you should just give him more time to show up. You didn’t want to order, but the waitress seemed to be getting impatient, and so you order something light and ate alone. An hour and he still wasn’t here. Your plate is cleared away, barely anything touched, and a few teardrops splashed at the edges.

You’re sniffling in the corridor of your apartment as you fumble with your keys and stumble in, trying not to completely break down as you kick off your shoes and head straight for your bedroom, thinking that you could escape some crying if you just fell asleep.

You’re sobbing quietly as you enter, pushing the door behind you, not even caring that it didn’t really close, ready to flop onto bed.

“You sad, pretty girl?”

You gasp and spin to the sound of that familiar voice, the same words being spoken in the same tone as the previous night.

Bucky pushes the door and this time it clicks shut. He looks up at you, and his blue eyes catch the moonlight in a soft yet sinister manner, causing you to stumble back. You can barely see him through the tears blurring your vision and the dark room.

“Bucky?” you whisper, unnecessarily, seeing as of fucking course it’s Bucky.

He bends his head back slightly with a smile, “I love the way you say my name, doll. Can you say it again for me?”

You take a few steps back, heart racing faster than you ever thought it could, and let out a quiet shriek as your heel hits the foot of your bed and your fall back onto it. Bucky is hovering over you in a flash, one hand propping him up and his right slipping under your dress to rub soothing circles on your thigh.

“Did he stand you up?” he leans down, lips between your ear and neck, “He doesn’t like you, princess.”

You try not to let out a sound, but you can’t stop a choked sob from escaping, and he smiles against your neck. You turn your head away, but he stays near, his voice hovering just above your ear, “He doesn’t like you, and he can’t take care of you, sweetheart, he can’t.”

Despite your efforts, another choked gasp escapes you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he’ll just go away.

“You’re shaking,” he notes, changing his circular motions from clockwise to anti, “Are you scared, doll? Am I scaring you?”

“Yes!” you gasp as he kisses your neck.

“No…” he replies against your skin, faux-disbelief coating his tone, “But I won’t hurt you, angel; he will.”

He lies down next to you and brings his left hand up to stroke your face, “It’s okay, you can cry,” he coaxes, and you do, breath escaping your lungs in short gasps as tears fall and he wipes them away, kissing your neck and still rubbing circles on your thigh, “You can cry…”

His thumb slides to your inner thigh and you squirm, but he quickly stops you by harshly gripping your thigh. Once he’s sure you won’t twist again, he runs his finger up and down your inner thigh with a sigh.

“You’ll learn to love this, doll, but for now… you can cry…” he shifts downward and pulls your dress up, “A sweet girl like you’s gotta taste sweet too.”

✪

2K notes · View notes

darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

Text

Lloyd Hansen Masterlist

Hostile Takeover

Zero Day

Unsolicited

Unexpected

Who’s The Boss?

The Grey Zone

A Foe Most Frightful (Medieval AU)

Multicharacter

Same as it ever was (Pete Brenner, Lloyd Hansen)

Old Scars, New Blood (Thor, Lloyd Hansen)

As the World Turns (Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen, Jonathan Pine)

Campus AU (Multifandom)

Three for One (Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale)

Somewhere Only We Know (with Nick Fowler ~ The 355)

Safe House (Sierra Six, Lloyd Hansen)

Pretty Petals (Multifandom)

#lloyd hansen #dark fics #series #fics #masterlist #the gray man #dark!lloyd hansen #multicharacter #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader

259 notes · View notes

i-heart-slashers · 10 months ago

Note

hi!! can i please request yandere! steve harrington with prompts "my perfect little doll is what you are.”

+ "you look so pretty tied up like this"? thank you so much! your writing is exquisite 💋

Hi! Thank you for reading and requesting. Sorry it took so long but I hope you like it!

"my perfect little doll is what you are.” + "you look so pretty tied up like this"

Pairings: Yandere!Steve Harrington x GN!Reader

Warning(s): yandere, stalker, violence, death, obsession, blood mentioned, abduction.

He'd seen you. He'd fallen for you, and now he wanted you.

You think to yourself that you should have seen this coming, but honestly, there were no signs that Steve Harrington, or King Steve, as you remember him before his downfall, was anything other than a good guy.

He waved to you in the halls and helped you if you were doing something outside of school. Once, he even helped your mom into the house with groceries.

Maybe that's how he got a key to the house.

All those times that he'd randomly popped up out of nowhere didn't seem so innocent now. The amount of times you'd go home to find him helping out one of your parents with some chore they just happened to need help with.

Groceries, lawn mowing, cleaning the pool out… He was always there and somehow always knew that they needed a helping hand.

It was that first moment of his helpfulness that your parents were taken by his charm and nudged you with a wink as they nodded in his direction, clearly thinking about some kind of relationship setup.

You, however, didn't reciprocate the same admiration for Steve. His fall from King was swift and brutal, but you still remember how he had been—a jerk and a cruel one.

Nevertheless, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing people could change. Steve had changed; he took in the younger kids and made a best friend in Robin. They were a group of social outcasts compared to the one pristine pedestal Steve had been used to.

Maybe it was the polite smiles you had given him or the way you allowed him to linger after he had struck up a conversation. You had a feeling Steve had gotten the wrong idea.

Waving it off in lieu of hanging out with your friends, you could help but notice something niggled at you whenever you caught him glancing in your direction.

You should have listened to your gut instinct.

"my perfect little doll is what you are," Steve whispers in your ear as he adjusts the clothing that he had forced you to change into in front of him shortly after entering your home.

All you could do was sob behind the tape over your mouth, knowing that just a floor under your bedroom, your parents were taking their last breaths from the brutal onslaught Steve had inflicted on them.

His good neighborly act ensured they never saw it coming; he even whistled as he attacked them. Seeing him walk back into your room with a calm smile while covered in blood was something you never thought you would witness.

"you look so pretty tied up like this," He whispered, kissing your cheek as he tugged on the rope that bound your arms and legs before he picked you up and forced you out of your home.

He'd stalked you. He loves you, and now… he has you.

228 notes · View notes

lilacevans · 1 year ago

Text

You're on the brink of homelessness and strapped for cash after a relationship breakdown when you finally find employment at a shady club. After rejecting the owner's countless advances, he takes a higher cut from your already miniscule pay. While searching for a better job, you do what you have to get by and begin propositioning private dances to club clients and not disclosing your extra earnings, like you're supposed to. What happens when the owner (and his family) finds out?

Main Warnings/Triggers:

Coercion, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Free Use, Manipulation, Blackmail, Prostitution, Kidnapping, Sadism, Lost Puppy Syndrome, Obsession. (More to be added, already plenty on the list.)

Full reveal & intro soon! | pete's place masterlist

251 notes · View notes

darkroomkisses · 2 years ago

Text

Blame it on the Alcohol (Dark!Rafe Cameron x Dark!Topper Thornton x Reader)

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Topper Thornton x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, Drugged sex, Smut, Fem!reader, Dark Rafe Cameron, Dark Topper Thornton, intoxication,Degradation, Underage Drinking/Drug use, Unconscious reader, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Toxic relationship, Sharing, choking, Face fucking, cuckolding, The boys are nasty, Read Tags and Enjoy!

Words: 2.5k/proofread once!

Summary: You attend a house party with your boyfriend Rafe Cameron, like most nights. After drinking and trying some blow you start to feel uneasy. Rafe tells Topper to help you out. Little do you know the type of “help” Rafe and Topper have planned for you.

Banner by @straywords 🥀

Part two

You ended up at a party even though you begged Rafe not to take you. You do not know why he was so insistent on you going.

You wanted to be cuddled up on the couch with Rafe and watch a movie. But no, Rafe said tonight was something he didn't want to miss, so far you couldn’t see why.

You sat on the couch, arms crossed; Rafe had his arm wrapped around your waist. You zoned out of the conversation Rafe was having with his friends after a while.

You reach for your drink and realize the cup is empty, you let out a pout. Rafe notices your expression and smirks, taking the cup out of your hand.

“Topper, bring us some drinks, make hers special” Rafe holds the cups up and waves it at Topper. Topper gives Rafe a look and mumbles under his breath but gets up.

“Rafe I could have got my own drink” You cuddle next to Rafe, enjoying a little how he bosses Topper around. “Nah, let him do something for you, he wanted us here tonight” Rafe kisses you on the forehead.

You straighten up at that, why did Topper care if you came tonight? you think, you let it go and Topper returns with your drinks you look in the cup, it is light pink and looks sweet.

Rafe pushes the cup to your lips “Taste it before you say you don’t like it” You sip it, it's a little too sweet but surprisingly good. “Okay Top, you know how to mix a drink” you compliment him.

“Yeah, Top has a real career down the at tiki bar” Kelce laughs.

“I think Topper would look good in a hot red bikini” you joke, cupping your own chest. Rafe and Kelce smirk at your jab.

“Alright alright relax, I know a thing or two” Topper leans back in his chair his eyes on you, watching every sip you take.

You look at Rafe who is currently snorting coke. Rafe lets out a hefty sigh leaning back. “Babe, take a bump” Rafe tells you, he’s not asking but you shake your head anyway. “I dunno” you hesitate.

You feel his hand on the back of your neck, Rafe’s mouth on your ear “Don’t fucking embarrass me”

You force a smile even though you know no one else could hear him. You lean down with Rafe’s hand guiding your head, you snort most of the line there.

You inhale and cough a little. You’re new to hard drugs never been your thing but being with Rafe, you had to step out of your comfort zone.

Your nose burns and you don’t like the feeling, but Rafe looks so happy with you.

“Good girl” Rafe praises you lean back trying focus on your breathing.

You’re not sure how much time passes; it feels like hours as everything around you starts to slow. You’re almost finished with your drink, your eyes feel heavy.

“Rafe, I don’t feel so good” your words slurred. You hold on to your boyfriend, he doesn’t seem that concerned.

“Top” Rafe gives Topper a look, telling him without words to come over.

“Hey y/n, come on” Top picks you up by your waist helping you up.

“Rafe what-” You try to question, but your voice sounds so far away.

“Don’t worry, I got you” Topper voice is soft as he guides you away from your boyfriend and up the steps.

Your feet feel heavy as you are forced up the steps. Topper brings you to a bedroom and shuts the door.

Its dark and you can only hear your shallow breathing and the muffled music from downstairs.

Topper guides you to the bed and you lay down, happy to lay down on a soft surface. Your swirling head calmed down by the silence for a minute.

Your eyes are closed, you feel yourself drifting away. The bed dips down and you feel a weight on you.

“Rafe?” you slur out, forgetting you weren’t in the room with him.

The darkness is making it hard to see the figure on top of you.

“No baby, it’s Topper” You feel his unfamiliar hands on your body, roaming and touching places they shouldn’t.

You panic “Topper what are you-” The words come out slowly and quiet. Topper shushes you, running his hand down your face.

“You’re safe with me, don’t worry” Topper says in a low voice, you feel light kisses placed on your neck then your lips.

He kisses you with vigor, his tongue fighting for entrance.

You try to shake your head telling him you don’t want it, you move your heavy arms to his chest to push him off you, but he doesn’t budge.

You use your little strength to bit his lip. “Fucking bitch” Topper curses and you feel his hand at your throat. “Don’t try that slick shit again” he squeezes a little.

You feel your tears trickle to your ears. “Be good for me or else” Topper voice is ice cold.

You whimper at his words, you don’t want to know what his “or else” means.

You feel your shirt pushed up, your bare chest exposed to him.

“Fuck even better than I even better than I imagined” Topper is almost salivating at the sight.

“Topper please” You plead lightly. “You want more huh?” Topper kisses your chest, not understanding your discomfort.

He brings his lips around one of your nipples, sucking on it hard.

He takes his hand to grope your free tit. He’s moans on your tit; you feel the vibration through your body.

Heat forming between your legs, wetness soaking your panties.

You try not to focus on the feeling, your eyes are squeezed shut.

You don’t hear the door open but the voice you hear makes your eyes pop open, Topper stops his movements.

“See your getting hot and heavy already” Rafe voice is heavy in your ears.

“Rafe” you whimper trying to sit up, but you can’t move fast enough.

“Sorry bro, I can't help it, I mean look at her” Topper brings his hand to squeeze your tit softly.

You try to sit up again but you feel like a ton of bricks are keeping you down, and it doesn’t help that Topper is on top of you.

Rafe strides over to you “Damn dude she looks fucked up, how much of that shit did you give her?” you feel his hands on your face.

“Idk man it must be strong” Topper picks your arm up and it drops back down.

You feel a little sick listening to their conversation, you struggle to keep up. Did they put something in your drink? Why? Your brain is hurts trying to put it together.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” Rafe coos in your face.

You want to yell and scream but it fails to come out. You feel out of control, and you want to leave.

“Home...I want to go home” you cry out softly. Rafe and Topper ignore you, your pleas falling on deaf ears.

“Shit Topper, get to it before she passes out” You hate how they talk about you like you’re not even here.

You feel your heart sink and the tears flow heavily now. Topper pushes your skirt up and pushes your underwear to the side.

His slender fingers brush against your clit and slit, lightning shoots through your body.

“Shit she’s so wet and fucking tight man, she likes it” Topper says as he feels your wetness on his fingers, stroking you roughly before sticking his fingers in you.

Your whole-body jolts “always fucking wet bro, barely have to touch her” Rafe sits on the bed behind you, so your head is in his lap.

He bends over and kisses you on the lips. Topper brings his mouth to your cunt; he’s eats you out slowly moaning into your wetness.

He puts his hands tight on your thighs holding them apart.

He lets up only to rip your underwear down and he slides his fingers in you again stretching you out.

He pulls his fingers out and licks his fingers. Topper gets up pulling his pants down his cock his hard and ready.

You try to back away knowing what coming next and Rafe holds you in place. “Don’t move baby, let him in”

“No, no!” you whine out.

“Come on, don’t make me tell you again” Rafe warns you. You don’t move again knowing you can’t get out of this.

Topper lines himself up, he pushes in a little hitting resistance. “Come on pretty girl, it’s okay” Topper pushes again, your hole stretching a little more.

Topper is already moaning at the feeling of being inside you. When you feel him force himself deeper, you whine at the pain.

Rafe rubs your face, soothing you lightly. “Fuck man she’s so fucking tight” Topper pulls out of you quickly, just too fuck into again with more force, he bottoms out after a thrust or two.

You cry out the sudden movement hurting you, this intrusion is too much too bear.

You feel Rafe shift against you, he moves your head and pulls his pants down, he’s hard. Rafe strokes himself as Topper fucks into you.

Topper moans and rocks his hips harder against you. “You feel so good, so good” Topper rubs your tits, squeezing hard.

Your eyes feel heavy again you close them, trying not to focus on the pleasure budding past the pain.

Rafe gets off the bed standing at the side. Rafe pats your face quickly “Open your mouth baby” he whispers.

“Show how well you suck my cock” when you don't budge Rafe forces your mouth open, sinking his cock into your mouth.

“Mm just like that” Rafe moves your head back and forth on his hard cock, he pushes your head against flush against him.

You can’t breathe properly and your body shakes; you’re so overwhelmed by the feeling of Topper rutting into your core and Rafe fucking your mouth.

“Yes, fuck yes, she’s squeezing my cock” Topper props up so he’s kneeling, he pushes your knees up.

“Fucking hell, she's getting tight, I think she’s going to come” You try to fight everything in your body telling you this feels good.

“Dirty fucking girl, coming from my best friend fucking you, such a little slut” Rafe mocks fucking your mouth harder, he leans in as if he can get further down your throat.

“Fucking whore” Rafe pants, running his hands through your hair, he makes a fist.

“Cum, you little slut, I know you want to” You whimper around Rafe’s hard cock, usually you love feeling of him fucking your mouth, but right now you couldn’t enjoy it, not like this.

You felt betrayed by him and your body in this moment.

The bubble bursts and you cum around Toppers cock, clenching hard, your hands grasp the bedsheets. You feel like you're floating, you try to ground yourself.

You moan around Rafe cock, tears soaking the sheets. “Fucking hell, that was so hot baby” Rafe pulls out of your mouth.

You pant hard, trying to catch your breath.

“I'm close, I wanna come inside her” Topper moans.

You whimper trying to shake your head. “Nah you had your little fun, pull out” Rafe orders. Topper groans and thrusts in you one more time before pulling out of you, he comes on your stomach.

You cringe at the hot sticky mess on you. Topper moves to Rafe’s spot on the bed and Rafe moves between your legs.

Topper strokes himself softly still hard, watching the scene in front of him.

“You’re so good Angel, can’t believe you came for me like that” Topper praises, he spreads the mess he made, further up your body.

You swat his hand away weakly. “F-fuck you” you spit, barely audible.

“Fuck she’s feisty even when she’s drugged” Topper laughs quietly.

“Shut up man” Rafe rolls his eyes. Rafe flips you over so you're laying on your stomach, he pulls you on your knees, so your ass is up.

He gives it a slap, holding your hips in place so you don’t jerk away from him.

“We’re not done yet, you’re mine now” Rafe voice is heavy with authority.

Rafe doesn’t have to prep you since you're still wet from your orgasm, every part of you feels tired. Rafe pushes himself in so smoothly, moaning as your juices coat his heavy cock.

“So wet and warm for me” Rafe happily sighs out.

Every thrust is harder and harder, like he is trying to out fuck Topper or something. You feel like you can’t take it anymore, your cunt still sore from Topper.

“Rafe slow” you beg, your voice is muffled with your face pushed against the mattress. Rafe scoffs, not slowing his pace.

“You’re mine to do whatever the fuck I want with; you hear me?” Rafe snarls.

He pushes you further into the mattress. “Your pretty holes are for me to fill every night” each word feels like a stab to your gut.

He’s fucking into your soaking core with such force you feel like you are going to break.

You wail into the mattress, your cries going unheard. The slapping of hips against your ass is loud in the room.

Topper jerks off hastily and sloppily to the scene in front of him, you hear his breathy moans, clearly enjoying Rafe’s abuse to your cunt.

“You’re mine, right? My little slut?” Rafe lifts your head up to hear you speak.

“Yes” your shaky voice barely audible between your cries.

Rafe pulls out and flips you over and wraps his big hands around your neck, squeezing.

“I make the decisions here” Rafe’s cock hits you at a certain angle that makes you see stars.

“If I want you to fuck my friend and come all over his dick, you fucking do it”

“I know what's best for you, you need me baby” Rafe breathing is shallow, you feel yourself clenching around his cock.

Topper moans and groans are hard to ignore and are only getting louder in your ears.

“Rafe” is all you can manage you feel yourself coming again, this time on your boyfriend cock. You moan out, reaching for Rafe to hold onto him, your legs shaking wildly.

“That’s my good girl, come on my fucking cock” you let out a heavy breath, all your energy is used up.

Your mind is slipping, your eyes close as you pass out.

Rafe holds you close, his face in your neck as he comes inside you, making more of a mess in you.

He groans into your neck. You don’t move a muscle; Rafe pulls out of you slowly.

He watches as the mix of both your juices spill out of you. Topper curses as he comes in his hand, panting hard.

“That shit was incredible Rafe, she’s incredible” Topper pants, still staring at you.

“Get your own fucking girlfriend Top” Rafe says possessively.

“This” he points at you “was a one time thing” Rafe says, while cleaning himself up with the bedsheets and pulling his pants up.

“I'm just saying man” He puts his hands up in defense “She’s an amazing lay, probably the best I’ve had” Topper says slowly fixing himself up.

Topper and Rafe watch as you sleep, your breathing is slow and shallow.

“Yeah, she sure is, I'm never letting her go” Rafe says definitively.

“She’s going to be pissed, you know” Topper half laughs not really caring if you’re pissed or not.

“She won’t remember a damn thing”

“And If she does?” Topper questions rising an eyebrow at the blonde.

“We’ll blame it on the alcohol” Rafe smirks at his best friend running a hand through his hair.

Rafe haphazardly cleans you off and tucks you in the bed, before leaving you alone to sleep this night off.

#rafe cameron x reader #tw noncon #outerbanks rafe #obx #smut #obx fic #rafe cameron fic #topper thornton #dark!rafe cameron #Dark Fic #topper outer banks #Topper thornton x reader #topper x you #Obx topper #topper thorton imagine #Dark fics

932 notes · View notes

allherfuckingtears · 2 years ago

Text

Got a secret, can you keep it?

Summary: Certain news leave you devastated as you walk into the hands of your not so gentle husband.

Characters: dark!Steve Rogers x wife!reader

Warnings: non/dubcon elements, allusion to sexual content, violence, (forced) pregnancy, power imbalance, dark elements

This story contains dark elements, be aware. 18+

Note: Just a little something for @cockslutpadalecki 15 sentence challenge. Haven't written anything in a long time, so bare with me.

__________________________________________

Soft snowflakes dance down the sky, landing on three inch blankets of snow covering once pristine green gras. The suns shines proudly, making the snow glisten like the 24-carat diamond resting heavy on your ring finger. But even the beautiful scenery doesn't reach you. A picture that once would have made you smile like a child on Christmas, now only suffocates you further. Fingers play with the tiny charm on your necklace, a nervous habit picked up when you were younger, as you stare out of the window of your prison, trying desperately to keep the tears and screams inside as the two blue lines mock you.

You refuse to accept your fate. It can't be true. Not again.

Tiny hands grab onto your forearm. "Mommy, Mommy", the voice startles you. "What is that?", curious fingers fish for the plastic stick sitting next to you.

"Nothing, Jay", you push the test out of his reach, as it disappears in your back pocket. "Don't worry about it, baby."

"Mommy, you've been crying! Why have you been crying?"

"What…" Your fingers meet wet cheeks. - You have been crying. "No, no", you stumble on your words, desperately wiping your face. "I'm okay"

"But you… you've been crying!" The blue eyes looking down at you start to glisten as James' voice turns shrill.

Panic rises as you desperately try to placate the little human in front of you. You sush him as you pull him down on the floor and into your lap, "Mommy's fine - see", you force a smile on your lips. "Everything's fine, baby. It's okay", you whisper into his hair as tiny arms wrap around your throat. "Have you seen the snow? It's crazy, look", you turn him towards the window.

"So pretty…" he mumbles, eyes gleaming. "Maybe we can go out and play?" Excitement rises and he's out of your arms and in front of the window before you can even blink. "Please, Mommy!"

"Sure, Jay. But you'll have to wear something warm, okay? It's very cold outside" Standing up you brace yourself on the wall as your head spins.

"Not Jay, Mommy. James. Daddy doesn't like it", he scolds you, voice serious.

A shudder crawls down your spine at the mention of his father. You swallow as you look at the blonde toddler, his spitting image. "Daddy, doesn't have to know".

"Daddy doesn't have to know what?", a deep voice echoes. You jump turning around, heart beating as Steve stands in the doorway.

"Daddy!", the little boy in front of you squeals, running into the arms of his father. Steve scoops him up off the floor as his cold eyes meet yours. You gulp.

"Steve…", the whisper escapes you before you can think of what you actually want to say. He's not supposed to be here. Not for the next four hours. Bile rises in the back of your throat as the plastic stick stabs you in your lower back. You're going to vomit, you're sure of it. He looks at you expectantly, gaze turning sterner when you don't move. When you don't greet him like he trained you to.

"Y/N", his voice snaps, jaw ticking. "Now."

But you can't. You can't. If you go to him now, if you give him the kiss he wants from you, he'll feel it. He'll feel the test. He'll know and there will be nothing you can do about it. No escaping your fate. Just like the last two times. You know you're done for when he lowers Jay on the ground, gaze still on you.

"Go, check on your brother, James." He dismisses the boy. Jay looks at you before turning and running through the door. Leaving you alone. To unknowingly suffer at the hand of his father.

"Kneel", the command comes as soon as his son is out of sight. "Before I fucking make you." You know you have no choice. If you don't do as he says, then he'll make you. This way, you might at least get a chance to hide the doom lingering in the back of your pocket once you inevitably have to ready yourself for your punishment.

"Steve, please…", you plead as your knees hit the floor. You resume the familiar position, eyes down, palms up. You know exactly what to do. At this point it's basic instinct, a second nature forced onto you for the last four years. A barely audible whisper leaves your lips, a final entreaty before you inescapably have to give into his perverse fantasies, "Please… I'm sorry".

Colds hands find your chin, making you look at him. His thumb catches on your lip, pushing into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, tongue swirling around the digit. Eyes pleading with him. His thumb presses on your tongue before he releases it with a loud pop. "Go on, baby. You know it's more fun for me when you beg."

#dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers #fifteen sentence challenge #look ma I did it - fifteen sentences #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers #captain america #mcu smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #dark!steve x reader #dark steve rogers x y/n #steve x y/n #marvel x reader #dark fics

972 notes · View notes