"Don't move, arch that ass back for me,” Cameron swore at you. He hung low over your shoulder, his voice all rough like he owned every inch of you. Your nails scraped against the cold concrete wall, body tremblin' as he slammed into your pussy from behind, no mercy in his thrusts. Didn't matter, you were wet enough to let him go as fast as he wanted in you.
The area was dark, you couldn't see much, just the wall in front of you and occasionally a glimpse of him. You bit down hard, tryin' to stifle the moan risin' up, but it slipped out anyway.
“Fuck—Cam, please don't do this here,” you whispered, voice shakin', even as your hips pushed back against him on instinct. He chuckled deep in his chest, that sound vibratin' through you while his big hand pressed firm on your lower back, pinnin' you in place.
“Shut that shit up." His eyes drag over you, slow. “Don’t act confused now, stop fightin', you know you need this dick tearin' you up.'.” His words hit like a slap, but damn if they didn't make your walls clench tighter around him.
Yeah, you did it on purpose. The outfits, the tone, the way you talked around him, you knew he’d catch it. You played it just right, sweet when you needed to be, subtle enough not to look obvious. You thought you had him for a minute. Thought he was starting to fold.
“You really thought I ain’t peep that?” His voice drops, gravelly and close, the words hanging heavy in the stale air between you. You open your mouth, words forming on your tongue, about to play dumb.
"What are you talking about?" You ask quietly. He shifts, his footsteps silent on the concrete, “All that sweet shit…” he says low. “That ain’t even you.” Your heart beats, and fast.
You knew he knew, that moment before. When he leaned in slow, lips hovering near yours, teasing like he's about to give you that kiss, eyes half-lidded but locked on you with that same knowing glint. But then his hands move, fingers hooking into the waistband of your bottoms, yanking them down in one rough tug. Next thing you know, you're bent over, panties half ripped to the side. He might as well take em off you, but he wanted you to remember this. This moment, him fucking you relentless.
The hallway echoed with the slick sounds of your wetness mixin' with his precum, every sloppy pound fillin' the air. You clamped a hand over your mouth, nails diggin' into your cheek, but he wasn't havin' it. Cameron snatched a fistful of your hair, yankin' your head back just enough to make your neck arch, forcin' you to meet his eyes over your shoulder.
“Look at me while I fuck you, baby. Ain't no hidin' now.” His grip tightened, that pull sendin' sparks down your spine, mixin' pain with the pleasure buildin' deep in your pussy. You looked at him, taking in all the detail of him. His shoulders flexed, his cross chain swinging with every thrust he gave you.
“Cam... someone might hear, might see,” you gasped out, tryin' to twist away a little, but he just drove in harder, makin' your knees buckle.
“Yeah? That's what you worried about, somebody see you like this?”
He slowed his pace just a tease, grindin' deep so you felt every thick inch of his dick, throbbin' inside you, but he didn't stop. Never did. You weren't supposed to be here, not like this. But he'd cornered you, whispered all that filthy shit to you till you caved. Slowly walking up to you, lightly touches, he knew just what to do. Now you were hooked, ass bouncin' back to meet him even as your mind screamed to stop. Your body ignored every problem your mind told you. Your hands pushed in the wall like you holdin' on for your life, but pleasure coiled tight in your gut. Your pussy gushed around his dick, massaging him as he pumped in and out of you.
“Maybe... shit, please, not so rough,” you mumbled, voice all breathy and broken, but he only grinned, that cocky athlete smirk lightin' up his face. He yanked your hair up again, pullin' you flush against his chest for a second. His pace slowed for a sec, just so you could focus on his words and not his dick. His free hand slide down to grip your hip, bruisin' the skin.
“Nah, you takin' it just like I want,'' he mumbles. He keeps up this slow rhythm, that slow grind, plap—plap—plap, his hips rollin' deep into you, stretchin' you out with every thrust. "Throw that ass back—show me how bad you need this.”
“Cam please” you whimpered, body goin' slack under his control, matchin' his rhythm even as tears pricked your eyes from the intensity. He picked up speed, dick plungin' in faster, the wet clap of his balls against your ass ringin' out loud in the empty space. You arched up, pussy squeezin' him greedy, walls flutterin' as he hit that spot over and over, makin' your legs shake like they 'bout to give out.
“That's right, my good lil' girl, lettin' me use you out here where anybody could walk up,” he murmured, voice husky and teasin', but his hand snaked 'round front, fingers findin' your clit and rubbin' firm circles that had you buckin'.
"You got my attention now baby, fuck" he says quietly against you. You whimper quietly, muttering stuff underneath your breath. So many jolts ran through your whole body, your moans spillin' free despite your efforts to hold 'em back. He didn't ease up, poundin' relentless, pushin' you right to the brink.
“Bout to make this pussy gush all over me, ain't you?” You shook your head weak, but your hips rolled back harder, chasin' that high even as you begged, “I... I can't, Cam, too much—gonna cum if you don't stop.”
He laughed low, thrusts comin' deeper, heavier, his fingers pressing just right on your clit.
“You gon' cum for me anyway. Squeeze this dick, let me feel you break.” Your body tensed, pushin' back desperate now, pussy grippin' him like a vice, pullin' him in deeper with every stroke.
“Please... I ain't—, I can't hold it,” you cried out soft, voice crackin'. “Then cum on this dick, give it all to me,” he demanded, not lettin' up for a second.
authors note, not well thought out but I will write another, that's why this one just a blurb 🌚🤞🏽
Read Chp 1 Here! | Story MasterList Here| AO3 | My Stories MasterList | Tip Jar💰
Now Professor Harkness got you in her locked car, should you have lied for her? Can you ever hope to be free of this? Worse yet, do you want to be?
WARNING: Not Sane Decisions / Yandere / SA /Dead Dove Don't Eat / Manipulation / Bad Doc / Bad Professor / Dark Prof Harkness / Unconsensual Photos / NON CON / Non CON Kink / Victim Blaming / Defending the Guilty / Manipulation Love, Not in Right Mind / Bad Relationship / Blackmail / DARKFIC / Yandere / Non Con Somnophilia / Breaking In / Cops Involved / F*'d Up Fic / Pervert Agatha AU / 18+
“Get in.”
Dr. Harkness drives you in silence for the first ten minutes.
No radio on, just traffic noises, the bag in the car weighs on your mind. Your notebooks, the photos, her computer, all of that evidence.
The evidence you just lied about to the cops.
You don’t know where you’re going, you assume it’s Dr Harkness home, because you move the opposite direction of your place.
You know she knows how to get to your home too, seeing as she uh- has spent so much time there.
Your eyes flick down to the keys in her ignition, then the matching key on her keychain to your home. The one you’d gambled a guess in front of the dean of your school and two police officers to say she owned.
To lie and say you’d made your professor in fact.
You try not to make too much noise, to not to shift awkwardly in your seat.
But the silence stretches on, and it’s eating at you.
You chance another glance at Dr. Harkness, her curls wild around her face, long past her shoulders.
The glow of the light cast across her face makes you feel like a voyeur to her beauty.
Not someone in the car with her.
You think back to psychology lectures to keep your mind busy, like a stupid rodent on a wheel.
You feel dirty at the idea of coveting, but you start there.
Dissecting your feelings like a science class frog.
Why do we covet? Avaricious, that's an easy answer first, right? Not right, that’s possession or greed, you didn’t covet for either of those reasons.
But maybe you could diagnose the professor with…with the need for power? Your eyes flick away from your mindless staring at her gorgeous cheekbones back to staring straight ahead.
Stop looking at her.
The road isn’t endless; eventually, the car will stop, and you don’t know what to expect.
So you have to keep busy, think back to coveting, that was a better use of your time then trying to guess what was about to happen.
You’d lied for your professor….the Doctor, you look at the rims of her glasses and that sexy lift of her upper lip.
No, you punish yourself by keeping your chin up and eyes on the road.
Coveting in relationships, unhealthy obsessions, focus - covert no, envious no, Rapacious no, no, no. Covert Narcissistic? No, no, no, no, stop it.
You tighten your fists, your hands clammy at your sides, Harkness sees the whites of your knuckles but doesn’t say anything.
Doesn’t relieve you of the pressure cooker in your chest.
You wonder if you can count backward long enough to not have a panic attack.
You open your mouth, unable to take it one more second and Agatha makes a disgruntled noise.
Then shakes her head.
“Wait.” She tells you like you’re a fucking dog.
Not her student.
Not her equal or even her victim.
A dog who pissed on her rug that needs to sit in the corner.
You fidget and her jaw clenches on reflex.
“Stop that.” She hissess and you are still again.
Had you been moving a lot in your seat, or was she being a bitch?
Why did you feel like you were sweating more now? The muscles in your thighs flex from the need to fidget once more.
The seatbelt across your body has the sensation of heavy rope tying you down, constricting you.
You roll your thumb on your front knuckle. Down to your nail, you let the pressure tighter, letting the digit turn red at your own mensatrations.
Why did you feel like a bug under a magnifying glass?
Worse off why were you getting wet from the anxiety she was making you feel?
Masochism, the word flashes in your mind and you bite the side of your cheek.
Is that why you liked this tension? Or is that the reason you’d bailed the Professor out of there?
You needed to realize you were in the car with a pervert, a predator who broke into your home and touched you, fucked you. Broke your trust, stole your things, hacked into your computer - read your stories… was inside of you.
What was the name for that disorder where you were turned on by discipline? Specifically, the cruel ones?Is that why you were so attracted to Doctor Harkness? Because you wanted her to be cruel. To tear you open and built you back in her mold once more.
The Professor makes a sharp turn and you’re blinking back to reality.
You’d missed the houses, missed the signs, as she turned off the main roads, and now you were up a driveway - in a garage.
Professor Harkness hit the button to shut the garage and waited, not unlocking the car door.
You thought of cases where people died in cars, choking on the fumes.
Once the garage door closed with a high-pitched metal scratching noise Dr. Harkness unlocked the car doors, moving to grab her bag of your things.
You hesitated but grabbed your now ice-cold tea and backpack and got out of the car.
You must have looked like a scared animal, but the Professor didn’t seem in the least compelled to comfort you.
She used her keys to open her door, which you thought was odd, to lock your garage door like that. But then again, you’d never hacked into another laptop and fucked them in their home in their sleep.
So maybe you didn’t have a good meter on these things.
The well-known professor Harkness - ‘Hard Ass’ opens the door wide and waits, her arm long, ushering you inside.
You don’t know how to uninvite yourself in, you must not want to, because you walk inside, and she follows you. Flicking the hall light on, you’re not sure what you imagined her home to look like.
But this wasn’t it.
You’d be ashamed not to use your psychology degree now.
Because as you walked further inside, it was clear - Doctor Harkness was not as she appeared to you for the past semesters.
Her home was spotless, like Dexter's spotless. Or maybe American Psycho minimalistically neat? You were pushed, without her laying a figure on you deeper into this mystery.
You walked until you got to her kitchen.
Everything was so…white.
Did she have OCD? Or was this some kind of disorder with- you stopped as you caught her staring at you.
Dr. Harkness looks down at your shoes, and you notice she’s not wearing hers anymore.
You spin to see her heels perfectly square in a shoe rack.
You snap to take them off. You are embarrassingly in two different colored socks now, but you make sure they’re as perfectly separate as her other shoes, like you too belonged here.
Harkness stepped closer to you, and you held your breath, she reached out and grabbed your tea. Popping the lid off she took a sip and winced, not liking how cold it was, or was it the flavor?
Either way, she poured it out and threw away the cup in one of those fancy drawers that has the trash can, then pushed it back in.
“Give me your phone.” The older woman said as if she was asking to see your homework.
You should say no, no sorry - you’ve sexually assaulted me and stalked me. I think maybe I’ll keep my device.
But you reach into your front pocket and hand it to her.
She takes it, long fingers not touching yours, she looks at you expectantly again.
Swiping the lockscreen to see you’d had a passcode.
One eyebrow arching she waits.
“0723” You croak out and you notice the slight twitch of her facial expression but nothing else. It was the Doctor’s birthday, you never thought she’d learn you had done that.
Your Professor opens your phone and turns looks to see if you’re sharing your location. You aren’t, no one cared that much about where you were.
Holding her hand with her bag still in it out, you aren’t sure if she’s asking you to take her things or - oh you hand her your backpack.
Then she turns the phone completely off, walking with purpose across the kitchen, you follow awkwardly to see her office.
One leather sofa, one piece of art on the wall - it’s a body, and it’s abstract? Ink blotchy maybe even?
Besides that, no books, everything super clean - pristine even.
Her desk doesn’t have a piece of paper on it.
Not what you thought a Professor or even a Doctor of her age range would have as a workspace.
But then you see her push the art to the side to see a safe.
Harkness blocks it from view now, you hear her spin the dial then it clicks and she puts her bag of sexual misconduct, with her laptop and you’re notebooks and photos into the safe, along with your phone and backpack.
She shuts it and spins the dial with ease before pushing the framed artwork back in place.
Harkness's home seems a little less interesting now that you have no way of leaving.
“I’m going to ask you if you have a microphone on you, something to record us, I’m going to ask you nicely. If you lie, I will kick you out of this house and we will never finish this conversation, do you understand?” The good doctor tells you and you pale.
You feel like she’s not asking, so you reach into your pockets and pull them out, providing a cough drop that you put on her desk and she eyes casualy.
Then you pull out a total of seven dollars and twenty cents. Your headphones were in that backpack, that was it, that was all you had, except you made an ‘o’ face and reached in your back pocket to hold out your student ID.
Putting it down, you thought how sad that was, that all you had if Harkness killed you and dumped your body was a cough drop, barley enough money for a large coffee annnd a student ID where you weren’t ready and…. Blinked.
“Last chance,” Harkness told you and something about her sounded angrier.
Like you were wasting her time, or her kindness.
You don’t know what to do, you lift your shirt up and spin around, as if you have a wire on you. Thinking that it’s silly until you spin back around and she nods to your jeans.
You should be offended, you’d saved her ass afterall not the other way around.
If it weren’t for you she’d be handcuffed and booked by now, even in this shitty police system.
You make an offending noise with your mouth but look down at your jeans, unbuttoning them and dropping them to the ground.
Glad you’d worn a matching set at the very least, not super happy they were white and lacey now that it felt a little on the nose.
What here with you in front of the big bad wolf in nothing but virgin panties?
Dr. Harkness gaze was stuck on the little bow on your cotton underwear right over that patch of pubic hair.
“Convinced, Doctor?” You spat not liking how she was stuck on your undressing. “Seems like you’ve seen it all before.”
Harkness doesn’t rise to your bait, but as she looks up at you now, you wonder how you’d never tried to diagnose her before now.
She was a nutcase.
“Oh, don’t act out now. You were being so obedient.” Harkness doesn’t sound cruel, she sounds sincere in fact.
“You think after all this, I’m wearing a wire or recording this?” You raise your voice and Harkness sighs now, but she opens the drawer to her desk to pull out one glass and pour some hard liquor from a bottle you would never be able to afford.
“Well Dear, after that stunning display, I think it’s either your recording me or you’re a pervert. So I needed to find out for myself.” She caps the bottle and then walks over to the leather sofa and rests down like she’s had a long day.
“I’m a pervert? You wanna talk about one of the many pieces of evidence on you breaking into my house and fucking me?” You point to the art piece.
Harkness is drinking when you say it and she tips her head mid sip to the side like touche. She licks her bottom lip from the drink and leans back, throwing one leg over the other.
“And no, gee I don’t want a drink thank’s for offering after being questioned by the dean and cops I’ll just raw dog it!” You throw your hands up then bend to grab your pants and she makes a tsking noise.
“No, no, I didn’t say you could put your pants back on. Val, now that’s a great place for us to start. We’ll get back to your desperate need for my approval, your Mommy issues, and the overwhelming desire for my cruelty in a moment. Tell me how you did it.” Doctor Harkness doesn’t ask, she’s taking another long sip and you stare at her, realizing you’re half naked in front of your professor while she sips good liquor on her leather sofa and watches you.
You hate that a dark patch forms on your underwear.
Why is this so erotic? Was it the danger of it, of her?
Harkness snaps her fingers at you, and you’re pulled back to attention.
“Stop, you’re a good student. So present the case to me.” Harkness stretches a little in her spot, the cocky woman is practically relaxed.
“Val needs power-”
The Doctor rolls her eyes and rubs at her eyes.
“Oh please, if I wanted to be bored I’d kick you out and keep your pretty bow panties. Now present the case, or are you not about to graduate?” Harkness let’s the last insult crack like a whip.
You swallow and think about it.
“I should punish you for almost throwing away your whole career. You were about to waste it all, all that work! All of what we’ve achieved together! No, first thing - you present the case, your punishment will come later.” Harkness decides in front of you. As though there was an order to this all.
You don’t want to disappoint her even now.
“Mel is easy to manipulate…” You start and a small proud smile comes from your mentor. This teacher of all things human, she wants you to present a case.
“Right,” Harkness likes this, you can tell so you keep going.
“Val only picks ones she can make needy for her, Ivy League with the nice ponytail and the parents in high places. Val wasn’t built for high-end things, so she likes to break the youth who have the trust funds and their lives ahead of them. She has malicious intent from day one, but eventually thinks it will be different, that it’s not her fault she needs to break pretty dolls. I-” You stop yourself, you feel ugly doing this like this.
But Harkness isn’t interested in how you felt. She stops playing with the rim of her glass, like you’d taken her favorite song and paused it.
Her face hardens, and you can’t find the thread.
“I wanted you as my TA and you denied me, you’ve got a talent for it you know. So many talents, you're wasting them.” Harkness leans forward, you don’t look down at her clevage, but you want to.
Her long curls tired from the day hang loosely, you’re enchanted by this vilianous ease she has.
“No,” you say, you’re first no to Professor Harkness and she laughs just a little, then leans back once more. As though you’d told a funny little joke.
“Now isn’t that another conversation, but let’s stay here. Tell me, you’d never met Mel or Val before today, had you?” Harkness takes off her glasses and thumbs at her temple as though she’s worked hard today.
“No,” you agree with her. Your toes in your mismatched socks curl on her hard floors.
Harkness sets the glasses aside, as though she doesn’t need them to see through you.
“No, so how’d you do it then? Was it your stories? All those fantasies about manipulation and taking. Older women forcing your thighs apart, causing ecstasy and carnage. You don’t like nice do you Dear?”
You flinch just enough, and Doctor Harknes finds that so dull. She leans forward once more pointing her finger over her glass accusatorily at you.
“If you want to play, you’re going to have to stop pretending you’re so good. Because I have to say, you lied to two officers, jeopardizing your career - all for what?” Harkness opens her arms as if to signal for you to look the fuck around.
“To save your ass.” You say back with enough venom that the Professor seems disappointed in you.
Now she’s going to talk down to you.
“Is that what you want? You thought we’d fall in love? That if you said we were together, I’d fall at your feet? That a pervert predator, what stalker, would what dear? You think because I’ve fucked you unconscious and I’m sickly obsessed with you, you can get a good girlfriend? You want to save me? With your Ivy League degree and all those hours spent trying to help people, is that it? You want to fix me? Save me like you couldn’t, Mommy and Daddy?” Harkness's cruelty doesn’t hit the first layer of your skin; you blink at her and wonder what exactly got you to this point.
You shake your head slowly.
Harkness leans back a little, then twists her face to the side comically, like this is so funny.
“No? You don’t want that?” She’s testing you.
“No, I-” You don’t get it out.
“Tell me little girl, what makes me so different from Val? Do you feel that high pony now, just like Mel? What’s so different about us? Oh, wait let me help you with this one. Val asked for consent.”
Harkness let’s the T’ at the end of the word linger.
It’s quiet for a moment, neither of you blinking, not moving.
But you weren’t dumb, and you weren’t afraid, and the reminder that Doctor Harkness chose you seems to fill you with a sickly confidence.
There’s a reason you’re here.
“Val was easy to manipulate, she asked me for something to drink, something to eat. She wanted immediately to save me by being my ruin. You took, you’re not better than Val…You’re just a different type. A different diagnosis, a smarter pervert.” You answer and it takes a minute but Harkness lips turn into a big grin and she downs the rest of her drink.
Setting it on the floor and rubbed her hands together.
“Not bad, I still had to push, but not bad. How many notebooks came before those? I have to say I ransacked that room for more, but that’s when I had to get creative with your computer.” She tells you like you’re two colleges working on a project together.
You’re standing in your underwear in her office and Harkness thinks she can just…chat?
“No, tell me why?” Your voice shakes, and the Professor looks almost offended now.
“Why what?” She counters, unsure why you’re even asking her.
“Why me?” You counter and Harkness rubs at the back of her neck and then looks at the painting.
“You know, if you’re going to be boring, at least take off that shirt and let me see your tits.” Harkness bites back then swings her head back to look at you.
“I don’t think it’s a stupid question.” You snarl back hands making tiny fists.
“Yes, yes, yes, you do. You do, you know what’s far more interesting. Let’s do another case study. Twenty-nine-year-old PhD student, top of her class, high sex drive, high levels of erotic creativity. What does she do? Doesn’t go to a bar and get laid, doesn’t fuck a buddy at a party?” Harkness's blue eyes sparkle, and you’ve never seen a prettier, less emotionally attached person.
“How do you-” You start to fight back but she makes a raspberry with her mouth at the absurdity.
“Did you see the polaroids? Do you really need more proof that I’ve had my eye on you? That I’ve already tasted every inch of you? You think I wouldn’t know?” The Doctor counters and tosses her hair over her shoulder at the fine details that are just so trivial.
“Okay, fine - she obsesses, she covets-”
Harkness points her finger at you again, like you’re on to a good one, if only your teacher can guide you correctly.
“She obsesses, she’s alone, so alone in the world, what is she attracted to though?” Harkness makes a a sort of game show type voice at you.
“Strictness, sadism, sexual violence, she wants someone to rip her to shreds and then make her sleep on the floor, to spit on her and house her, body and soul. She wants to be owned.” You say back, holding your spine tight, not about to shudder at the self diagnosis.
Doctor Harkness doesn’t let the words breathe, she’s close now.
“You are a spectacular manipulator, your brain is truly the sexiest organ in your body, and I can say that having stripped you down. But it’s a shame you came into my class, if not for the stalker like mentality i’ve developed for you - for the fact that you have a way with words…” Harkness seems mesmerized now, almost in love.
“Sapiosexuality,” you mumble, not to your mentor but to yourself.
Harkness hears it, though, and she snaps her fingers and smiles broadly at you.
“Dear girl, you needed a creature so violent in their hunger for you. I needed a student who was insatiable to learn more. We were just two perverts who met under the right moon.” Harkness shrugs then leans back, your Professor seems enthralled with her own lecture.
“So you’ve never…” You hate yourself for asking, the cold air on your bare thighs but you have to know.
“I’m not a virgin little one, but I haven’t ever broken into someones computer, stolen their affects, taken polaroids of me fucking them while they slept, no. Now a different time, I’ll explain all the why-”
You get angry to cut her off and demand but she holds up her hand to stop you.
“You think we can cover all of this right now? You think it’s possible to diagnose that quickly then I’ve failed you in your teaching, do not let your desire for information cloud the beauty of trust.” Harkness unfolds one leg from the other and waits for you to catch up to her.
“Trust?”
“That’s what I said,” The doctor hated to repeat herself on a good day, but it seemed she was calculated on doing it with you.
“You-”
The Professor held up one finger.
“Nu-uh, no, actions and words both hold weight. You put your butt on the line for me; I brought you here. You don’t have a wire, I am sharing with you - it’s not as uneven as you may think. We are in an old dance.” Harkness defends herself, but you scoff at it and throw your hands in the air.
“YOU FUCKED ME!” You laugh coldly, and Harkness doesn’t move, just stares at you.
You are almost embarrassed by your outburst.
“You’d like to earn the right to touch me back, that’s what upsets you.” She doesn’t ponder it, just tells you, you blush, your whole neck feels hot and splotchy.
“Why did you invite me here?” You try again, and those blue eyes roll at the way you’re stabbing in the dark at the obvious.
“So many whys, you ask another one of those dumb questions, and you will take off all your clothes, last warning.” Harkness's punishing tone has your bottom lip quivering.
“Do you want me? Is that it? Or is it just the high of me telling you no and you taking it all!?” You shout back, and this time Harkness stands up so fast you’re feeling like you have whiplash.
This makes Harkness so angry she’s got to show you how off you are.
But she stalks out of the room, you follow her with desperation on your heels.
She moves down a small set of stairs to a basement level, you follow ignoring every horror movie you’d ever watched.
Two locks on the door, she easily twists numbers until they both unlock then she opens the door and waves her hand dramatically for you to look inside.
You walk in and so does she.
It’s dark until she flips open the light.
That’s when you see an entire basement of….you.
Photos, drawings, it’s a complete mess - a stark contrast from the upstairs. There’s books everywhere stacked, candles half burnt down, your old clothes thrown away…it’s everywhere. You’re everywhere, you gasp and look around with a mix of intoxication and fear.
Your hand reaches out to your out computer you thought you’d broken.
More stuffed animals, an old vibrator on the table, a bed in the corner overflowing with your old things.
The walls are all covered. More photos pinned on every inch, it was like a serial killers hide out.
Harkness watched you with fascination, as though she understood more now seeing how you’d react to the space.
But your chest felt heavy, was this love?
“There wasn’t another, It’’s not the chase. It’s you.”
Darkfic +DeadDove List |Requested Stories | My Stories MasterList |AO3 | Agatha + Reader List | Tip Jar💰
Hi! You can call me B. I’m a young writer, I don’t speak English—my friend @pretechvenus is helping me with the translation. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
TW: Neglect, Smoking, Family issues / toxic family dynamics, Angst, Mentions of envy and loneliness
You looked at your watch; it was 6:21 in the morning. You could see the sun rising. You had taken a certain habit of sneaking out of the mansion; anyway, no one noticed your presence in that place. You lit one of your cigarettes that you had kept in your leather jacket while you waited for the twilight of the sun to appear. You thought about many things… You thought about your father, Bruce Wayne; He, although he didn’t show it directly, but with actions, his love for his children, something he never showed you. And the reason wasn’t even something you could control, you looked at your brothers and sisters with silent envy, they looked at you with discomfort.
You let the toxic smoke fill your lungs, surely one of your lungs would turn black considering that by the time you turned 14 you had started smoking (…) a puff away from your problems.
You had liked it because the first day you started smoking, Tim stopped in front of you, he seemed like he was smelling, you broke into a cold sweat with that Marlboro cigarette one of your friends had given you. Drake gave you a light scolding that wasn’t really a scolding, maybe just a simple warning or rather a suggestion: “It’s not good for your health,” he continued on his way; it was a crumb, but you stayed very happy with a bit of attention, although it didn’t last long, he never mentioned it again even though you kept smoking, even more than before.
Crumbs of love… Lies, there was no love in the actions you had with the Waynes, your adoptive siblings received more love and attention than you — You threw the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it in anger— Why!? Then you thought about Damian, he was also a biological son, but unlike you he was loved, you laughed so you wouldn’t cry telling yourself; “Well, the little siblings are always the favorites,” besides, he was younger, what stupidity it was to be burning with envy you reproached yourself. What kind of older brother wishes to steal the attention from his younger brother?
The cigarette was crushed on the ground as you stared at it, you stayed absorbed. But in reality, you weren’t looking at the cigarette, you were watching your life pass by at that moment, your life like a movie, each attempt to get closer to your father, to your brothers, trying to do favors, but only receiving a look of discomfort or the harsh words of your little brother who told you that even though you shared blood, you were dirty from birth… well, at least he told you things to your face and not behind your back like the others, it was quite common.
You didn’t even notice the light brown-haired girl approaching you to touch your back, pulling you out of your trance, it was one of your friends or rather your best friend, Stefany. You gave her a fake smile while you told her you were fine like you always did and clearly, she didn’t seem happy.
—When do you plan to stop lying to my face?— You stayed silent and she continued— We all know you’re not okay, _. You’re going to turn 18 soon; your birthday will be in 15 days. Again, you’ll celebrate it with me and who else: John, Karl, or Laura, if they don’t send her to the doctor again. Now your expression was surprise, wait, was your birthday really so close? You had really stopped looking forward to it; since at home you never celebrated it and your own birthday started to become blurry. A slight smile slipped out at the mention of Laura, another one of your friends who lived between medical exams, of course it didn’t make you happy that she was always unwell, but because the ones left weren’t as… her.
—You’re right… Eh… It’s close, soon I’ll be an adult, I had forgotten.— You scratched the back of your neck a little nervous, you knew she could see through the mask you had created. You felt a knot in your throat, but her gaze made you speak.—You know Nanny, when I turned 16 I wanted to leave the Wayne mansion, to go far away from Gotham even, away from that family that I spent my time begging for some love (…), But— She raised her eyebrow while repeating this time as a question the “But?”, a slight smile slipped out— Here’s my family, You, John, Karl and Laura are my family so I’ll just move out, but I won’t leave Gotham because you’re here. My family is here.
You could notice a slight glimmer before she threw herself to hug you, which you responded to; It was a long and silent hug… That you wished could be eternal. Feeling like a little child trying not to break down crying, but you didn’t succeed. Stefany looked at you with her beautifully blue eyes, and tears were accumulating in your own eyes showing the desperation you had tried to silence, and she wiped them with her thumb tenderly… as if she could read your feelings in those salty drops. You hated showing yourself so vulnerable, but you couldn’t stop your tears, you only curled up against her chest… while you ranted an intense frustration and anger about your family cursing them for seeing you as an idiot as if you didn’t know their identities, for the envy and the rage, though above all the loneliness you felt with them, they made you feel like a dead person. Stefany simply caressed your hair in silence, listening to each of your insults towards your whole family, naming each of them, not even Alfred was spared from your rage and your tears stained her white shirt. She knew you needed to be able to let out what you so much wanted to hide and so the hands of her silver watch kept moving.
The dawn turned into morning, you decided to drop her off at home on your motorcycle — A Kawasaki Ninja ZX-25R that you had bought yourself, since John told you it was at a good price from one of his uncles. But at that moment you said goodbye to Stefany, who gave you a knowing smile knowing how little you liked to cry, you blushed, well, you felt a little embarrassed to be honest.
When you arrived at the mansion you passed in front of your father without saying anything, anyway, he didn’t even look at you, did he ever even pay attention to all your obvious outings? You doubt it. But by this point you didn’t care that much anymore, since you had something else in mind, you turned on your phone to see the date, you thought about your birthday; about the candle marking your coming of age and freedom. You had seen places before to move into, you still wished to leave that place when you came of age and you could imagine yourself smiling in your own home with things you actually enjoy, and above all without feeling the looks of disgust from the Waynes (…) Something that would happen, not because you would be far away but simply their looks would change… Maybe you had to remember that your birthday wishes always turned against you.
Do I continue writing a real world x JJK world (nanami x you) fanfic OR
start from JJK’s storyline and introduce a character who’s needed when the time is dire, who has a mental health condition that intensifies her emotions which therefor makes her the most powerful Jujustu sorcerer of (nearly) all time, with severely powerful cursed energy that needs to be trained to be stable so she doesn’t unleash heavy amounts of emotion (and so everyone around in radius is in danger because the emotions are THAT intense) and also had MULTIPLE I’m not talking 2 or 3, I’m talking like 6 domain expansions based on her trauma , e.g “ Empaths Funeral “ = The enemys (Mahito or Joho) get buried in her sorrow, force them to feel everything she’s endured—making them break down piece by piece. Emotion as a curse. Their body weakens from the sheer emotional overload because they are neurotypical. And if you haven’t guessed— yes, the girl is neurodivergant so it makes sense she survived those emotional highs rather than a neurotypical just BARELY surviving when it comes to hit them itself.
CW: THIS IS A DARK FIC. If that is not something you are into please scroll. Mentions of Drugging, Drugs, Kidnapping, stalking, and a lot of really not-good things. I always read dark character fic and was trying to do a little spin and have the reader bat shit crazy hope you enjoy it. MINORS DNI. Part 2 3
You watched the video on your phone over and over again. The devil of hell's kitchen was back and better than ever. You watched as he fought the man the news was calling "The Punisher". His body in that tight suit was enough you make anyone swoon without even seeing his face. He was tall and slender yet muscular, he had to be the way he was tossing another grown man around like a doll. You wanted him and would do anything to determine who he was. It took about a week of examing the videos of him online to realize the eyes in his suit were covered meaning he either didn't want to see or couldn't. How he would stand still during battle almost like he was listening for something rather than looking helped you narrow your search for a tall, muscular, blind man in his early 30s. By this time, the punisher was captured, and word about his legal team had gotten out. Nelson and more importantly, Murdock.
"Thank you guys so much for taking my case with everything going on now with that punisher guy I'm assuming it's pretty busy around here," You thanked Karen
Once you made the connection linking Matt to Daredevil it was smooth sailing from there. First, figure out how to get a case for them to take. Luckily your landlord had been refusing to fix the air in your apartment while simultaneously raising your rent which from your research was right up Nelson and Murdock's ally. Second, somehow get them to take a case in the height of the case of the century. That is where Karen came in. A super sweet girl has a soft spot for women in trouble. Worked like a charm.
"Of course, this should be a pretty open-and-shut case. Foggy is great with these types of things," She said handing you a clipboard to fill out paperwork.
"Hm Foggy? Is he the blind one?" You asked already knowing the answer
"No that would be Matt," She corrected handing you a pen.
You started filling out the paperwork trying not to raise any suspension
"Oh I just think it's awesome how he a blind lawyer. I'm going blind in my right eye so it's refreshing to see how blind people don't let their disable stop them," You lied trying to see if you could hit another soft spot in Karen. "He's like an inspiration. I want to be a doctor,"
You saw a sweet smile come across her face. Bingo you had her in the palm of your hand.
"You know, he'll be here in about 45 minutes if you wanted to take your time on that paperwork and meet him," she offered
"Oops," You dropped the paperwork on purpose buying you a few extra minutes.
Karen laughed and chatted with you while you did the paperwork.
"I'm sorry, you didn't get to meet Matt the other day. He tends you disappear most days," Karen apologized as she took a sip of her drink.
You had made friends with Karen. Which wasn't hard she was actually really nice and you had a few things in common. She had invited you out to drink with her and Foggy at the Josie's.
"It's okay. I'm sure I'll meet him soon,"
The truth was you were tired of waiting and you were determined to meet him that night.
"Thank you guys for inviting me out. I don't have many friends since moving here," You lied again.
"Of course," Foggy spoke up. " Who says you can't be friends with your clients," He joked knowing he and Karen had become close friends after they defended her case.
The 3 of you spent the rest of the night drinking and playing pool. You were 3 shots and 2 mixed drinks in when you heard the sound of tapping heading your way. Your head faced the direction the sound was coming from and you laid eyes on him for the first time. He was much taller in person.
"Hey Matt, over here," Foggy said waving him over.
Without missing a beat he walked over to the three of you. Once in front of Foggy he stopped and whispered something to him.
"Oh, this is our new client, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Matt Murdock," You reached out to shake his hand when you realized you were drunker than you thought.
You stumbled forward, falling into him. "Woah you okay," he asked
"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I think I had too much to drink," You regained your balance. " Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," He shook your hand.
The two of your hands are still locked together. You stared at him finally seeing the man you had been obsessed with for the last few months. You had obviously caught his attention too because he was staring back even though he couldn't see you.
"Nice to meet you too," He said breaking the silence between the two of you.
"Okay well. I'm going to walk Karen home. Can you make sure (Y/N gets home safely, please?" Foggy asked holding up an equally drunk Karen.
"Of course, Foggy. Be safe you two." Matt insured him
You watched as Foggy and Karen leave the bar, leaving just you and Matt.
"I'm sorry you missed all the fun," You stood in front of the door of your apartment building.
"Oh don't apologize. Foggy and Karen seem to be very fond of you I'm sure we will have more time to catch up,"
"I would really like that Matt," You said earning a smile from him. "Do you want to come up for a drink since you didn't get to have one? And I can call you a cab they hardly come around here this time of night," You offered hoping he'd take the bait.
"I would love to,"
Perfect. You unlocked the door and led the way up to your apartment. You flicked the light on as you walked in, Matt was not far behind.
"Sorry about the mess I wasn't expecting company," You apologized
"It's alright it's not like I can see it anyway," he joked.
"Oh gosh, sorry was that insensitive"
He laughed before reassuring you it wasn't. The two of you made your way to the living room. You showed him to the couch before walking to the bar area to make him a drink.
"I hope a vodka soda is okay because that's all I have," You joked handing it to him.
"Uh yeah. Of course. Thank you again,"
"So how long have you known Foggy and Karen?" You asked trying to make conversation.
The two of you talked for hours only being interrupted when you noticed the sun had started to rise.
"Shoot, Matt, it's almost 6am," You said grabbing the cups from the coffee table and taking them to the kitchen.
"Hey, it's alright. I'll just be a little late for work. I'm sure Foggy and Karen will understand, "He explained getting up and grabbing his jacket.
"Of course, they've been really sweet to me these last few days. It was really nice to finally meet you, Matt," You walked him over to the door.
"We should really do this again. I had a lot of fun," He said standing next to the unopened door.
"Maybe next time we'll go back to your place, Mr. Murdock." You teased.
"I think I like it better over here actually," He grabbed your waist pulling you closer until you could feel his breath on your lips.
"I think I like you better over here too actually," You said flustered
You were glad he couldn't see your face because you would be embarrassed at how hard you were blushing right now. He leaned in for a kiss which you dodged.
"Sorry, Mr. Murdock, I don't kiss on the first date. Meet me back here after work and you might get that kiss," You pushed him back by his chest.
"Well, I guess I'll be back tonight," He said before kissing you on the forehead and leaving.
You smiled to yourself before locking the door behind him. As much as you wanted to kiss Matt you knew you had to wait. You didn't want to come off too strong and scare him. You made your way over to the kitchen where you had put the coffee mugs. You grabbed the one Matt used and dropped it in a ziplock bag before walking over to the grey and gold treasure chest you keep in your closet. You open the top of the chest where you kept all your research on Matt, along with pictures and now the mug he used to drink coffee out of. A smile crept onto your face as you closed the lid to your private tribute to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen and locked it, knowing soon he'd be yours
"Ruling in favor of the Plaintiff, the court dismissed," The judge banged the gavel on the bench before getting up.
Matt and Foggy both hugged you as your case came to a close. After 2 long months, you guys had built a perfect case. You just wanted your air fixed but in the end, you were able to move to an updated apartment free of charge and were able to keep the same rent payments as before. The court cleared out only leaving the 4 of you.
"Thank you guys so much! You two make a really good team. Celebration at my new apartment whenever I move in," The 3 of you laughed with Karen joining in from the gallery.
"Well how about drinks tonight at Josie's, my treat," Matt spoke up.
"Ouu carefully, Ms. (Y/L/N), I think your boyfriend is trying to impress us," Froggy joked.
"He is very charming," You smiled up at him as he pulled you into a side hug kissing you on the top of the head.
"Let's get out of here. I really want to go change out of this dress," Karen spoke up
"Uh yeah. We will meet you guys in like an hour," You said
"More like 2 hours," Matt nudged you
Foggy and Karen both groaned in unison. Not far behind the two of you as you exited the courtroom.
"You are one kick-ass lawyer," You said undoing Matt's tie. You noticed a cut on his neck.
You of course knew it was from his nights as DareDevil but he doesn't know that so you had to play the role of confused girlfriend.
"Hey, what's this" He grabbed your hand before it reached the scar
"Uh, I'm actually not sure. I run into a lot of stuff. You know with the whole being blind thing," He joked
You laughed along as you undid the buttons on his shirt.
"You gotta be more careful, Matt, can't have my 'boyfriend' getting all banged up" you quoted Foggy from earlier
"I'm sorry, I had told Foggy things between us were getting a little more serious. I hope you don't mind"
"Of course not. I was hoping I wasn't imagining it," the two of you laughed
"So will you be my girlfriend?" He asked as he lifted your shirt over your head.
"Duh Murdock," You stood on your toes to kiss him.
He picked you up wrapping your legs around him. He laid you down on the bed before undoing his belt
slight cnc, missionary style. creampie. black fem! reader x cameron cade. he always gets what he wants.
ᥫ᭡.
Practice was good, he always pushed through. Getting ready for games and traveling kept him busy, sometimes too busy. Never enough time to, relax. However tonight was different. Some party he didnt want to go to, but had no choice. Good publicity I guess. He stood there, giving small talk to some people before glancing up. He saw someone.
An old friend. You.
Standing there pretty and somewhat distracted. Sipping something, shifting weight on your feet. You felt out of place in a sense, big fancy parties with all these important people. You sit a little of your drink, your glossed lips lightly leaving their presence on the glass. You continue to stand there, talking with whoever this was, until you feel a hand brush against your shoulder. Confused you look, but calm right back down.
"You mind if I steal her away for a second?" Cameron asks. You lightly smile. You were happy to see him, happy that he was doing good.
"Hey Cameron" you say quietly to him, a little shyly. He gives that smile he always does, but it feels different with you.
"I finally get to see you out of work clothes huh? You look good, classy" he says walking you over to a different corner.
"Thanks, its just something I put together. Didn't expect to be invited" you say lightly messing with your hair.
"Of course you had to come, family and friends are welcomed." Theres a small pause before he finishes, "And you, are a good friend of mine" he says smiling down at you.
His eyes linger on you a second longer than they should, not rushed, just… taking you in. You catch it and let out a small chuckle, shaking your head.
He doesn’t look away right away. If anything, he straightens a little, standing just a bit taller in front of you, like he’s settled into your space without thinking about it.
The conversation keeps going, you guys talk back and forth, but there’s something under it now. Something quieter. He stays close, listening, responding… but never really pulling his attention off you. You didn't think much of it, maybe he just wants to listen to you clearly. It was a little loud.
"Uh Cam?" You ask him.
He blinks, like you pulled him out of his head. “…yeah,” he mutters, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.
A brief pause. He glances around, then back at you.
“It’s loud in here,” he says, more to himself than anything.
His eyes settle on you again. "C’mon,” he adds, quieter. “Let’s go somewhere else.” He gently takes your hand and leads you away.
He leads you down some halls and up some stairs, there were so many levels to the place. You guys head to a room, comfy and somewhat big. By the time you reach the room, it’s calm. Comfortable. A little too removed from everything else. The door shuts behind you with a soft click.
For a second, he just stands there.
Then he exhales, dragging a hand over the back of his neck. "I hear enough yelling at practice,” he says, low, like it’s nothing.
A pause.
But he doesn’t move away. "Can get a little stressful?" You ask, looking at him.
"Yeah, sometimes its too much and..." he pauses. A moment is taken before you speak up, "Hey..." His eyes glance to you, focused.
"You're doing fine, don't stress yourself out Cameron," you say softly. "If, the stress gets to you, just know I'm here for you. All right? Anything you need, I got you"
A longer pause. Followed by silence until he speaks. "Anything I need?"
Next thing you know, its soft kissing.
He pushed you back against a bed, kissing you soft.
"Cameron" you say his name quiet. You knew what was about to happen. When you said, "anything he needed" you didn’t mean this.
His hand traced up to your top. He pushed it up, your lacey bra gets yanked down, exposing your boobies to the cool room air. You cover them up in an instinct, but he removes your hand from them.
"Who said for you to do that?," he asks you. His hand lightly gropes them, caressing them sweetly. He took in the sight, your confused yet wanting face, and your hard nipples as his fingers brushed over them.
"You can't do this," you tell him pushing his hand off. He ignores it, he needed this.
"You said anything I need? Youre here right?" His fingers had already worked lower, shoving down just enough to access what he wanted. He pulled your panties down with a small hum.
"Look at who's wet, just like I thought. You don't want this though, right?" His words deep, sending an unwanted shiver down your back.
You groan, annoyed with him, the frustration bubbling up even as heat pooled low in your belly
. A tug and pull happened, you pulling away while he tugged back on you.
"S—stop, m'serious, Cameron, I didn't mean this!" you mumbled to him, your words tumbling out uncertain, hands pressing against his shoulders.
"That's cute," he replied, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.
He spreads your legs wide, his palms rough on your inner thighs, holding you down with strength.
He was way bigger than you, and stronger, but you still tried.
You couldn't believe this.
A good friend, taking your words and twisting them so wrongly.
His lips found yours, giving you a messy kiss, trying to calm you down. Teeth gently scraped against your lips, gloss smeared while his hands traveled all over your waist. He massaged you good, making it clear of what he wanted. His hand traveled low, parting between your slick folds. Your pussy twitched at the feeling, the cool air not making this no better.
"I need this y/n" he mutters.
You then felt his finger leave you, its replaced by his tip, sliding up and down against your pussy. Its blunt head nudging against your folds, ready to slip in.
"Cameron, I need to get home," you say, pushing against his lower abdomen, fingers splaying over the taut skin of his stomach, feeling the heat radiating from him.
He doesn't listen. He needed this, needed you actually. He continues, gliding his dick through your slickness, coating himself in your wetness, the feeling making you groan, despite your movements. Precum rubbing all around your clit, making it even more sloppy.
"Cameron—" you call him again, voice cracking.
"Its okay," he says quiet kissing the sides of your face. But this wasn't okay, far from it.
His hands squeeze your hips firm, thumbs pressing into your soft flesh, he slips himself in, his thick length making its way past your resistance.
You let out a pained groan, your body tensing around the stretch. "It hurts," you mutter to him, wincing.
"Does it?" He asks, still pushing himself in, his eyes locked on yours, unflinching.
"Yes," you lightly yell at him, trying to move, twisting your hips in a desperate bid to escape.
But he doesn't. He continues his movements somewhat slow, easing in with rolls, filling you inch by inch.
"Then relax and get used to me. You needa take it" he looks at you dead in the eye, his stare piercing.
You looked up at him, feeling sorry for yourself, a mix of fear and unwanted thrill slowly rolling inside. You finally stopped fighting and slowly relaxed. And as you did, he started moving more, his thrusts gaining rhythm, his dick pumping your pussy good.
"Yeah, that's better," Cameron breathed, his tone shifting to something almost approving. He hooked one of your legs over his elbow, angling himself to hit deeper, his free hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb flicking over the hardened nipple.
"See how you takin' it now?," he asks you proudly.
You whimpered, the sound escaping, pleasure began to weave through the discomfort, your body betraying you with every involuntary clench. "Cameron...." But it lacked conviction, your hands no longer shoving but clutching at his back, nails digging in.
"Fuck" you mutter under your breath.
He lightly hummed, leaning down to kiss at your collarbone, his hips snapping forward with more force, the cushion creaking under the movements. "You ain't goin' nowhere. Feel that?" He grinds against you, "I'ma fuck the fight right outta you."
You groaned quietly, you looked away. Maybe, going home could wait. No, what were you thinking. This, this couldnt happen. Skin slapped against skin, wet sounds filling the area as he chased his rhythm, sweat beading on his brow. His chain bounced slightly with his moments, your eyes glanced to it then to him.
"Tell me you don't want this," he taunted, his breath lightly warm against your ear. "Go on, lie to me while you soakin' me up." His fingers found your clit, pressing lightly before rubbing fast circles, pushing you toward the edge.
"Please, it's too much,' you whimpered to him. He pounds against your pussy, making you take it. You stretch around him, pussy feeling everything but empty.
The slick drag of him, pullin' back just to slam in deeper, hitting that sweet spot that made your toes curl and your breath hitch.
His hand then creeps up from your side, fingers tracin' the curve of your jaw before slidin' down to wrap around your neck. Your eyes slightly widen, that firm grip squeezin' just enough to make your breath hitch, pinnin' you under him. Your eyes drift down his arm without thinking, just for a second. The familiar shape of it, strong and veiny, from hours of practice.
"Mm, so pretty" he says eyeing you. Your face was needy, yet you were scared to fully give in. You bit your lip trying to be quiet. Your boobies, still bouncing with every pound he gave you.
"You such a good friend for this, fuck," he mutters. He leans in close, lips smacking against yours in a much needed kiss again, tongue slippin' past to yours. Sweet n salty. His hips roll steady, that rhythm buildin' the ache deep in your creamy pussy.
Your legs slowly, wrap tight around his waist, bare heels digging into his back. He holds you steady with that hand on your neck, controllin' the pace, making you feel every stroke and thrust.
"Want me to stop?," he murmurs. Its like he already knows the answer but needs to hear you say it. You let out a small, uneven sound, barely getting anything out.
His jaw tightens just a little at that. He slowly pulls himself out, then all the way back it in, he repeats, painfully slow.
"I asked you something," he says, quieter this time, but firmer.
When you don’t answer right away, his hand comes up, fingers brushing your cheek before giving a light tap, just enough to pull you back to him.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “Use your words.”
"N–no, don't,” you manage, soft but clear. You shook your head, your nails lightly gripped into him.
Despite your efforts, this was the best you've felt. He slowly let go of your neck, trailing it down your chest. "So fucking good," he says to you, holding your hips again. You slowly nod your head at him, ditzy n needy. He smiles and starts pumping in you again, you keep your legs open, giving him all access to you. You breathe quietly, focusing on your high.
Cameron groaned, before he slammed in then slipped out. His hand wrapped around his dick, stroking quick and rough, "Fuck, yeah... take all that nut, baby," he muttered through gritted teeth as he came over you. You let out a quiet sigh, your head tilted to the side. He comes in, kissing your lips sloppily again, "Take it, hold it for me, thank you baby" he says with each sloppy stroke.
ᥫ᭡. Author's note!
So ummmmm i triedddd I was supposed to post this week's back but I forgot....thanks for reading, ignr typos <333
Warning: Prompts - Biting + Praise Kink + Enema / INCEST / DUB CON / Murder / Vampire AU / Agatha Vamp / Reader Vamp / Rio Wife } / CRIMSON PEAK AU / Deception / Con Artist / Sibling Incest / Crimson Peak Quotes / G!P / Yandere / Darkficc/ Dead dove / Unhealthy Love / BloodLetting / Mommy Kink / Character Death / Impreg Mentioned / Killer Aggie / Good Rio / 18+
☞🕸️☜
Rio forced open the door as the black moths fluttered eerily around the haunted attic.
She gasped taking three steps back at the sight of you, her wife - half-nude, kissing and caressing Agatha.
Your neck, chest, and cheeks flushed while so close to orgasm.
Agatha, not slowing her hand in your trousers, turned and grinned at Rio like the cat that ate the canary.
Excited at Rio catching you under your siblings' thumb, proving who owned you really.
Agatha’s fingers plunging inside of you over and over again, the sound of your cum gushing around her digits so loud even over the sound of rot from the mansion, the flutter of the death moth, and Rio’s own heart snapping into at the sight.
Your wet lips lift off of Agatha’s bare shoulder, meeting your wife with an unreadable expression.
Rio staggers back, then picks up speed like a nightmare finally realized, a climax of horrid terror coming to fruition.
Rio’s black suspender falls down her shoulder as she coughs, the poison making her so weak. She stumbles but catches her black boots on the steps, trying her best to get away.
Tears gleaming at her eyeline but not yet falling.
Agatha is hot on her trails, leaving you to throw your white dress shirt on as quickly as possible. Begging your sister not to do this, not to go after her.
As you had begged every night since Agatha had brought your wife to your family's home.
A home of death, ghosts, and tombs.
How you regret ever involving sweet Rio Vidal in such a mess.
By the time you're halfway tucked into your shirt and running to the banister, Agatha has Rio pushed against the railing - ready to kill her.
To end all of this charade.
“AGATHA PLEASE!” You scream, but hear your sibling laugh.
“I knew it - you aren’t related at all!” Rio yells at Agatha, who just seems to happy this whole rouse is over.
“Oh, sweetie, aren’t you precious! I’m her big sister.” Agatha grins and goes for the family ring.
The purple and white maiden, mother, crone ring is yanked off of Rio’s finger - snapping it in half in the process.
Rio yells in pain as Agatha shoves her over the railing.
You close your eyes, terrified to watch your love slam into the haunted floor.
But you do look, you have to look, seeing Rio’s gorgeous, long locks fanned out against the dark wood makes your heart ache.
You don’t smell blood from the head wound, and a shallow breathing can be heard.
Agatha just grins, twisting your mother's ring around her finger like she’d won her prize. But it wasn’t the jewelry, she had you back now, and all would be as it should again.
Your dress shoes thud against the long mansion steps as you go down to your wife.
You fall to your knees and flip her over to see she’s unconscious but alive.
“You knew what this was,” Agatha speaks from above.
“Sister you..you..” Your hands delicately caress Rio’s cheek but you hear a growl from above and retract such tenderness for your partner.
“I knew you shouldn’t have picked her. Why did you?” Her jealousy flared. Her voice boomed through the mansion.
“Agatha please…”
“You are so lucky mother isn’t here. But I’ll punish you myself. You know no one will ever love you like I do.” The mixture of words is nothing new to you.
“It’s too much posion…You’ve been bleeding her too quickly…It’s not - she’s not…” The babbling is ignored.
“You knew what she was, what’ she’s always been. A meal, some money, and a damn meal! You swore you wouldn’t lie with her!” Aggie’s jealousy mixed with possessive fury was a murderous combo. Your sisters stern tone only leads to her spanking you. Teaching you new ways to be sexually tortured. You knew this dance all too well.
“I had to consummate the marriage!” You defend, and the memory of how gentle Rio had loved you rings out.
The soft kisses, the tender sucking of your nipples. Rio pulling your hair from behind as she used her cock to slap into you.
You’d told Agatha she hadn’t finished inside; you’d lied.
“You never did with the others, you wanted her. You wanted Vidal for more than just the money that marriage would bring….more than the meal.”
A bloody tear escaped you and dropped onto Rio’s cheek.
Your secret was no secret now.
Was it possible to love a monster and an angel at the same time?
You assisted Agatha in the lugging of Rio’s body down to the basement.
Coffins were stacked, moths flapped at every surface as if attracted to your sinister bidding.
And then there were the large vats of blood.
More than simply your con of marriage and titles.
Agatha was busy, so busy collecting more than enough blood to keep you two fed in this hell house.
Agatha had been giving Rio a special kind of tea - It was bitter and putrid. Yet sweet Rio drank it under the guise of not upsetting her sister in law.
For you.
All of this was for you.
Rio had been poisoned by drinking blood from the large vats in your basement by your own sister.
Unbeknownst to Rio, who now was experiencing melena.
So Agatha did what she had done with Alice, and Jen - your prior wives.
She started with the enema, emptying Rio out of any ‘toxins’ like the sickness Agatha had dosed them with that special tea.
You bit your lip as you watched the process, the hose and the water entering.
You turned away, afraid to see the only person outside of Aggie that you had ever loved in pain.
It took two hours of cleaning Rio out before she came to again.
The groaning mixed with pain was quickly replaced with the horrors of what was happening to her.
“You have a few more hours, I’d rather you not spend all of it squealing like a pig.” Agatha told your wife who’s eyes rolled back from the dehydration.
You turned away and gazed up as one of the many holes in the house, where bits of snow gracefully swayed back and forth and then floated into the bloody pit.
The lacey ends to the cuffs of your shirt were wrinkled from your fists scrunching the material up, and then letting it go. Over and over again, the action was meant to keep you here - away from dissociating.
You couldn’t do that again, not to Agatha.
And if you had any chance at figuring out how to get Rio out of this mess, you’d have to stay in your body.
No, floating like the bits of snow into the vast bloody sludge.
Agatha came behind you and curled your hair to the side. Making your neck bare for her.
“Do not fuss, you are my good girl, aren’t you?”
You bite your bottom lip, your teeth leaving an indent.
You don’t answer, unsure how to lie to your older sister. You didn’t lie to her when you first touched yourself; you told her that night.
Agatha had been your safety; she’d taken the beatings from Mother for you.
And when you’d told her of the self pleasures, Agatha had taught you how to do it better. Even doing so much as showing you, by doing it to you, loving you.
And that was who Agatha was, your person.
But Rio had believed in you, hadn’t hurt you, had never punished you.
Agatha broke your thought process by wrapping her arms around your waist, her clean, scarred hand coming into view.
With that large purple ring, with the locket of your hair inside.
Oh, how your sister loved you.
Agatha’s hand unbuckled your belt and pushed inside your trousers once more.
“We were interrupted, weren’t we? That vile woman. But you need me don’t you, sweetie? My good girl, my baby sister, needs me. And only me. I practically raised you, you should have called me Mommy instead.”
You gasp as Agatha says the words that are too true, too hard not to speak out loud.
With your back turned from your dying bride, your sibling pushes her fingers inside of your cunt like hers alone could feed you.
Your arousal drips against the ring.
“Say it my love.”
“Aggie please no - not in front of Rio…” You whimper. But you get wetter from the praise mixed with the sin.
“But you are my good girl, and good girls don’t say no. So be my obedient little girl. Say it.” Your cunt pulses around her fingers, sucking her deeper inside.
You hear Rio gasp, and you clench your fists and close your eyes. Agatha had known she was awake, she’d set this up. You had hoped she was unconscious, but now it was so clear.
Agatha was marking her territory even as your partner slipped into death.
“Aggie…Please…” You whisper, but Agatha turns you towards the vat of blood. Giving Rio a good look at what you really are.
You wish it weren’t so - but the smell of it has the effect Agatatha was eager to show. Dying to show Rio Vidal since the moment the con began.
What type of creature you truly are.
Your fangs elongate and you hunch over like an animal bent on carnage.
“Good girl, say it for our meal.” Agatha taunts and Rio’s terror is clear to everyone now. Her eyes stuck on the long fangs, but she keeps looking back down to where your sibling fucks you with abandon.
“MOMMY I’M HUNGRY!” You screech, and Agatha meet’s Rio’s gaze, and she bites into your throat hard.
You cum so hard, shuddering and whimpering your fangs out in the cold night air.
You hump Aggie’s skilled hands as she drinks from you. But she doesn’t take too much, knowing you are low.
Just enough to make you weaker, make your orgasm bring you far past a regular climax.
Your vision is fading, and you fall to your knees. Agatha releases you and kisses up your neck and face over and over, peppering kisses like you are her most prized baby. Her world, her life, her reason for killing.
Your eyes close and you whisper against her continuous attack of loving kisses on your lips.
“Good girl, my good girl, you did so good for Mommy. You are Mommy’s girl. I’ll finish the job, I’ll do it for us. Only for us, I’ll feed my girl.” Agatha promises, and you blink lazily as she holds you like a child in her arms.
When you are as high as a kite, she whispers into your ear her undying love, kisses your nose, and lays you down gently on the basement floor.
Before staking back over in her flowing white nightgown like a figment of Rio’s worst night terror.
Agatha props Rio up and takes a long, big of chain, tying her ankles before she uses the crank to lift her upside down over the giant red vat.
Rio’s hair dips into the bloody pool, and as she gazes upside down at it. She sees a skeleton bob to the surface. As little bits of snow catch on the skull and ribcage.
Rio would scream if she had the energy.
“Last words, Mrs. Vidal?” Agatha asked, void of any remorse. A bit of your blood still beading on the bottom of her lip.
Rio’s eyes fell to your half-conscious body, and you sleepily peered at her, wishing you could say something - anything.
Rio still gazes at you like she did on the night you wed.
But as her chin snaps to meet Agatha, her cold stare is impressive at such a fragile state.
“All this horror and for what?” Vidal questions, like just maybe this mystery would be solved before her end.
“The horror?” Agatha’s voice cracked at the top before she continued. “The horror was for love.”
She says it simply, with a vacant smile, until she regards you with more conviction. Love was the reason Agatha had to kill mother; it was all for you.
“She could have been happy with me.” Rio croaked out, last bit of defiance still strong.
Agatha’s face screwed up in disgust at such an idea.
“No, I love her. You could never understand…And it may be a monstrous love…but love makes a monster of us all.” Agatha lectures the young woman.
“Does it eat you up that I laid with here? That our love could be growing in her womb at this very moment?”
Agatha’s lip twitched up in rage.
“If you believe you are the only one to release your seed inside of my sister this night than you are mistaken.” Agatha counters and Rio is dropped a few inches into the vat, just to make the fear spike in your wifes face.
“STOP! STOP! I thought - thought you were a ghost-” Rio’s argument makes little sense, but then again she was looking death in the face. None of your previous brides last pleas had made much sense either.
“You do love a ghost story Vidal. No, this is a love story.” Agatha’s grin is fractured and off putting to your wife.
“Let me go, let me take her somewhere far from here. Let me save her soul.” Rio hisses, even in death she’s fighting for you.
Your knees are too weak to crawl to them, all you can do is watch.
“I’ll remember your offer as we feast on the meat and blood your carcass provides. By any luck, we’ll still have your corpse as leftovers for the Holidays.” Aggie cackled a large witchy laugh.
“You’re monsters, both of you!” Rio screamed, spit flying as she cried. Your heart broke - your hand reached out to her, but Rio was wiggling, trying to break free.
You wished ever so that your wife believed you were still redeemable.
You wanted so desperately to be redeemable.
“Funny, that’s the last thing Mother said.” Agatha’s eyes were empty, as she took out a butcher's knife and gutted Rio over the bloody pit where the corpses bubbled to the top lie stew.
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