prompt: You were alone for the holidays, so the thud in the fireplace makes you freeze. Ash spills across the floor, followed by a gloved hand gripping the hearth. Then, a voice low, cheerful, and wrong asks, “Were you good this year?”
This holiday season was so overwhelming. Plans constantly being rearranged and then suddenly dropped at the last minute. Gifts that won’t be received or given until after the New Years. It was too much, too fast. You just wanted to alone time. You had told your girlfriend you needed space for a day or two, gently, in hope it wouldn’t hurt as much as receiving the news over a phone call.
You made sure that she knew you still loved her, just that you needed a bit of quiet.
“Of course,” Rio assured, “Take all the time you need.”
So, you turned off your phone, and kept the decorative lights off. The only warmth coming from the fireplace, its glow painting the ceiling in lazy patterns. The walls creak lowly as the temperature outside drops. Snowfall scattering past the windows.
You curl deeper into the couch, blanket pulled snug up against your chest. The fire crackles in a steady rhythm. Your eyelids grow heavy before you realize they’re fluttering close.
The thud comes without warning, snapping through you like a gunshot.
Your body jerks violently, heart lurching as you suck in a sharp, panicked breath. The remaining embers of the fire scatter and die. Ash spills out of the fireplace in a gray rush, dusting the rug and hearth. The smell of soot and a burst of cold air floods the room.
A black, leathered gloved hand appears, fingers curling around the edge of the hearth. The hand tightens, then a second follows.
Her voice floats out of the chimney, warm, cheerful and wrong like an off key note of a song.
“Were you good this year?”
Your heart slams into your ribs as she slowly pulls herself free, boots finding purchase on the hearth with ease. Ash streaks down her coat, dusting her cheeks. She straightens up rolling her shoulders, and looks around your living room. Seeing it all dark and non-festive she hums.
“Wow, you really committed.” She comments.
You scramble upright, backing away until your calves hit the couch. “Rio! I told you I wanted to be alone,” you scream. “You can’t just—”
“Can’t what?” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “Visit my girlfriend on a holiday? Break in through the chimney like Santa?”
Your mouth hangs open, trying to think of something to say.
“I said I understood.” She steps closer. Ashy footprints trail behind her, “But understanding doesn’t mean agreeing.” Her eyes flick back to the fireplace. “By the way, do you know how hard that was? You never clean it.”
Your stomach turns. The words come out of your mouth before you can’t stop them, shaking and raw, “You’re fucking deranged!”
For a fraction of a second, she cracks. Rio lets out a dry chuckle. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, making the soot smear when she wipes at her face with her glove.
“You are so ungrateful,” she says quietly. She turns away and sniffs. “That’s okay,” she adds, her composure returning. She faces you again, murmuring, “I don’t hold it against you.”
Rio hesitates for a second before reaching out and resting her hand against your jaw. She always touched you like you were something fragile she’s proud of not breaking. Your breath stutters out.
“You know I hate when you shake.” She slips off her glove and presses her palm against your cheek. Your body betrays you by leaning into her warmth.
She reaches into her coat and presses something into cold your hand. Your spare key. You stare at her in disbelief. She states, “I found it months ago and kept it. Just in case.”
Your throat tightens as she gently folds your fingers around the key, enclosing your hand between both of hers. Rio rests her forehead against yours, whispering, “I know you really don’t want to be alone.”
She guides you back onto the couch, tucking the blanket around your shoulders with gentle care. She sits close, her thigh pressed against yours. Her thumb brushes slow circles over your hand.
Rio doesn’t speak for a while. That unsettles you more than anything. Silence, with Rio, is deliberate. Only a tool. Your heart is still racing, but nothing is happening. No threats or raised voices.
“You look exhausted,” Rio says finally, her tone observational, “I don’t think you’ve been sleeping.”
You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. Have you? You try to remember the last time you slept all the way through the night. Not passed out from sheer exhaustion. Actually slept where you woke up adequately rested but your mind draws a blank.
“I’m fine,” The words sound flat and rehearsed the moment they leave your mouth.
Rio scoffs, “You always say that when you don’t want to worry anyone.” Rio turns to you slowly with an expression of concern on her features. Her hand interlocks with yours. “And that scares me.”
The touch grounds you but makes your skin crawl at the same time. Rio continues, “You call it being strong and independent but you’re just being cruel to yourself.”
You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking still. Your chest feels tight and heavy. You stop yourself for a moment, “I wasn’t trying to punish myself.”
“That’s on me,” she sighs, “I should have realized earlier that you needed me.”
Guilt blooms at that. Thick and undeniable. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you apologize.
Rio just shifts beside you one arm sliding behind your shoulders, the other beneath your knees. In one fluid motion your feet are off the floor, a quiet gasp leaving you.
“I’ve got you, baby,” she reassures immediately.
Rio holds you easily as she stands, your weight balanced against her chest. Your cheek instinctively presses to the familiar warmth of her neck feeling her strong, steady heartbeat.
Your arms curl across her shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of her coat. Ash smears faintly against your sleeves. Smoke and perfume intertwined in your sense of smell.
“You used to like this, remember?” Rio reminds you as she walks towards the bedroom, “A long time ago.”
The room seems dimmer than usual. “You’d always fall asleep before we even reached the bed. I’d have to tuck you in without waking you,” she giggles.
Rio lowers you carefully onto the bed, arms lingering at your sides. She pulls the sheets up around your shoulders, smoothing them out. You stare up at her, heart pounding again, but slower now.
She rounds the bed stripping her clothes as she goes, leaving herself in only her bra and underwear. You turn on your side, facing away from her. The room is dark except for moonlight leaking through the thin curtains. The bed groans as Rio crawls into bed.
Her body firmly presses from behind, arm flung over you holding you close. Her thumb brushes the edge of your shirt, skimming a bit of your skin. You barely flinch but she notices. Rio mumbles, “ ‘m sorry.”
“You startled me,” you say quickly, heart quickening. “I wasn’t expecting-”
She huffs, her breath brushing the back of your neck, “You always get confused when you’re tired.”
Her fingers confidently slip beneath the hem of your shirt, resting flat against your stomach. Your throat closes up, struggling to croak out, “I don’t like that.”
She goes very still. For a moment, you think she will pull away. However, she presses closer behind you, her arm tightening around your waist. Her thumb strokes once, slow and deliberate.
With certainty, Rio affirmed, “You’re safe. I wouldn’t touch you if it wasn’t okay.”
Your body doesn’t know what to do with that contradiction. You freeze, hoping that if you don’t react, she’ll lose interest. Rio only takes your silence for permission.
She hums softly, satisfied, “See? You just needed a second.” Her fingers spread slightly as they travel downward, slipping under your shorts and into your panties. Sharply your breath hitches, hips jerking away when her fingers land on your clit.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be. I’m not hurting you,” she chides.
That’s true, and yet that makes you feel worse. You want to say no. The word is formed in your head, but when you open your mouth, it refuses to come out. What if she’s right and you’re just overreacting?
She presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Rio starts circling her fingers on your bud. Tears well in your eyes as you shudder, smothering half your face in your pillow. Finally, you manage to roll yourself on your stomach in an attempt to get away from Rio’s fingers, but she quickly follows. Her weight falling on your back as her fingertips rub faster, knot in your belly getting tighter.
It’s hard to breathe as Rio presses herself closer, coaxing you through your orgasm. Encouraging words of There you go and good girl ring through your ears. Broken moans muffled from the pillow.
Rio stays above you until your breathing deepens, and your body relaxes completely. Only then does she move over to the other side of the bed, giving you space that you asked for.
Series Warnings: Noncon, Non-Consensual Cheating, Blackmail, Older Rio, Younger Reader (reader is above the age of 21), Neighbors AU, Daddy Kink, Sir Kink, Face Slapping, Choking, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex, Jealousy, Begging, More tags to be added.
Summary: You make the mistake one day to accept the invite to drink with your neighbor, Rio. Who you have known for a few years now.
Every chapter will have individual tags. Please heed the warnings, I am not responsible for your media consumption.
Chapters that have noncon in it will be marked with ‘*’
Older!Rio who invites younger!neighbor!reader over for a few beers and it ends with reader across rio’s lap being spanked and forced to take her fingers despite telling Rio no because they’re dating Wanda— (or Agatha. Either or)
🤨 - bae, give me anything...even just a fcking scratch... I need it! GIVE IT TO ME, BAE! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 SHOOT ME WITH D!RIO!🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹SMACK ME WITH IT!
Dark Rio for YOU 🫠
“What do you want?” You asked, shutting the door and locking it.
You followed Rio as she made her way through your kitchen and into your living room. She sat down on your recliner, completely ignoring your coach.
“Wow,” she sighed dramatically. “No “Hey, how are you?”, that's rude.”
“It’s midnight, you don’t get a greeting.” You snapped.
Rio hearing you moaning her name, “Please, no, Rio, stop!” as you’re touching yourself. Rio opening your door just a bit so she can watch you fantasize about her using you, knowing it’s all just a fantasy for you and you would hate if it actually happened, right? But when she watches you she makes note of how you touch yourself and what you’re saying so that when she actually does force herself on you, you’ll be too turned on to do much about it
-😈
Yesss and when she does make her move, you’re trying to push her off and you tell her no, but she points out that she knows you wanted this, having heard you begging her no/stop while you were getting yourself off. So she takes every single no and stop you say as “go faster”/“harder”/etc-
👾 - *Bursts in through the front door* okay but if Kate Bishop, Rio Vidal and Sam Carpenter kidnapped me. Locked me in their basement. Used me and treated me as their pet. I would be SO OKAY WITH THAT.
I just had to say that.
Thank you.
I shall now go bathe in holy water. *walks out*
Oh!
I…. I need all three of them at the same time now. For scientific purposes
But them locking you in the basement, only coming to see you to use you, to bathe you and to feed you- they never speak directly at you-
Ghostface!Rio threatening you with a knife, but you aren’t scared enough for her, so she takes off the mask and you look at the skull parts of her face and start panicking. And of course once you do, she starts to strip you, the threat of death keeping you from trying to struggle
-😈
“For someone who’s so scared, you sure are soaked.” 🫠 she would tease as she forced her hand in your pants-
