Warnings: DDDNE (seriously!!!), Tbag himself is a warning, age-gap (reader is legal I imagine her to be like 20-21), dumbification, faux!Cest, kinda dbf themes, degradation, could be considered grooming, he's kinda mean, ddlg-esque, Reader calls Tbag ‘Uncle Teddy,’ but they aren’t related.
Summary: Good ole ‘Uncle’ Teddy has just broken out of Fox River, and he knows you’re just so eagerly waiting for him. He tries to be good, but once he gets a taste nothing can stop him.
Sometimes you wonder if God exists…and when you’re not you’re asking him why he’s so cruel.
For the longest time you had a great life - you were never rich, never had much but it didn’t matter, your father loved you unconditionally. He was the light of your life, always spoiling you, encouraging you with sweet words even after your mother left.
So- now that he’s passed it’s ironic that the only person you still have left is none other than Theodore Bagwell. Theodore (or ‘Uncle Teddy’ as you learned to call him) was a close friend of your father’s. He didn’t come around much but when he did he stayed a while and he was always sweet to you- always made you feel special. However, even though he was kind you never knew much about the man, just that he cared for you.
He’d been locked up when you were 18, a few years ago now. When you’d heard about his crimes it made you sick to your stomach. Not only because of his vile actions…you felt sick because a part of you still wanted him in your life. A part of you felt like he was the only piece of your father that was left.
Your house is one of those medium-sad rentals stuck between “barely functioning” and “sentimental enough to keep.” The floors sigh, the windows rattle, and the porch light flickers like it’s rehearsing for a horror movie.
It’s nothing special.
But it’s yours.
It was your dad’s.
And you stay because leaving would feel like letting go of the last person who ever cared for you.
Except… he wasn’t the last.
The TV hisses from the kitchen counter, lighting the room in blue. The newscaster repeats the same line for what has to be the tenth time:
“Escaped inmate Theodore ‘T-Bag’ Bagwell—”
Your pulse jumps.
Not because you’re afraid.
But because for once in your life, something you want is actually coming back to you.
You met Teddy through your dad—late-night beers, careless jokes, that slow Mississippi drawl that knew exactly how to curl around your nerves.
After your dad had died Teddy began to reach out more, tried to stay in contact.
First came the letters—handwriting sharp, messy, unmistakably his. Some playful, some teasing, some unexpectedly thoughtful. Little snapshots of the world he lived in behind those walls. You wrote back every time, even when you told yourself you wouldn’t.
Then the visits started. Not conjugal, of course, just two chairs, one phone, a thick pane of glass, and the kind of attention that made your skin tingle long after you’d walked out of the prison gates.
He’d press his palm to the glass and you’d mirror it. And for a few minutes, it felt like you weren’t alone.
You never said you missed him but he always smirked like he knew.
Now he’s out.
The thought hits you like a warm, breathless rush. You set your mug down before your hands can give you away. The porch light flickers—once, twice—and steadies, glowing bright against the night.
Maybe it’s just faulty wiring or maybe it’s him.
You step closer to the door without really meaning to, heart thudding in a rhythm you know he’d smile at if he could hear it.
Because Teddy promised—more than once, in letters smudged by the way he pressed too hard on the pen:
“When I walk outta here, darlin’, I’m comin’ straight to you.”
And now, for the first time in years, you finally let yourself believe he meant it.
Still, it is getting late so you pad over to your little room tucked the corner of the house and perch on the corner of your twin bed.
You lie down, head swimming with images of Teddy, before dozing off into a light slumber.
————-
You wake up to the unmistakable sensation of your hair being stroked.
Turning over in one swift motion, your gaze meets the unmistakable big brown eyes of none other than Theodore Bagwell.
Filled with an incredible sense of embarrassment at your clothes (or lack thereof- since you'd worn a tight shirt and panties to bed) your face turns an incredible shade of pink.
“Didn’t realize you were such a light sleeper, sugar”.
There it is, that stupid nickname he’d bestowed upon you years ago that just seemed to stick around.
You scoff, “How’d you even get in?”
Teddy’s tongue glided across his teeth, a slight sparkle in his eyes, “You hide the spare exactly where your daddy did.”
You roll your eyes and finally get a good look at him. It seems that in his efforts to avoid the authorities he had bleached his hair. You giggle at his new look and stand to ruffle his wild locks, “looks good”, you shyly admit.
“Oh you’ve always been too sweet to me…exactly why I call ya Sugar”, Teddy mumbles out.
You giggle again, grabbing his hand and pulling him down onto your bed, a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
You engulf him in a hug, legs straddling his lanky body- arms around his neck and look him in the eyes, “I missed you”.
His cold hands wrap around your hips, nose digging into your neck- inhaling your scent. He groans, “Course you missed your good ole Uncle Teddy”, he bites his lip, sighing like he’s fighting a war inside his head.
“What is it Uncle Teddy, what’s wrong?”, you ask with an adorable pout adorning your features.
He chuckles lowly, one hand toying at the hem of your sleep shirt- which now that he’s paying attention he realizes is quite see through…he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose.
“It’s just, you could make a man go crazy looking at him like that, sugar. You’ve grown so much”, he admits, now smirking.
You blush at that, a sick part of you flattered by his words- craving more.
“Y-you don’t have to hold back- wanna know what it’s like being with someone I care about…not just another silly guy my age”.
His ears perk up at that, fingers tracing your waist and slowly but surely moving up
Up
Up
Until he cups your breasts with his signature smirk, “You ain’t expecting me to be gentle are you, Sugar?”
“I don’t want you to”, you admit sheepishly.
His eyes roll back at just your words, “Alright, show old Teddy what you got, Princess”.
You spring into action, the kiss a messy clashing of teeth with tongues battling for dominance. He tastes like whisky and smoke a surprisingly fitting and pleasant taste.
His one hand keeps kneading your breasts while the other moves down to your hip, grabbing it firmly, encouraging you to move.
You start eagerly grinding against his hardening member, kissing and panting like a bitch in heat.
Teddy pulls away for a second and whispers, “I wonder who taught you to be such an eager little slut…”, before starting his assault on your neck.
His beard is scratchy on your soft skin, making you whimper- which only encourages him to nip at the exposed flesh. He leaves marks all over- hickies and little red blotches from his facial hair.
You whine as you grow even more desperate, grinding down harder while gripping his body and pulling at his hair.
His hands travel up the nape of your neck, sifting through your hair, and you yelp when Teddy suddenly yanks at the ends, forcing you to look up at him with teary eyes.
Tongue tracing his teeth, he chuckles darkly, "I told you I wasn't gonna be nice."
He stares down for a few seconds, tilting his head, "Now, why don't you take your dear old uncle for a ride?"
You nod like a mad woman, all self-respect thrown out the window at the suggestion.
"Hmm, what would your daddy think if he saw you right now, huh?", he taunts while pulling down his slacks and boxers just far enough.
You sigh with relief at the sight of his cock, hard and ready for you. Teddy pulls your panties to the side and lines himself up underneath you, prodding at your entrance.
As you sink down, you can't help but feel so unbelievably full. The sensation is so overwhelming, you bite down on his clothed shoulder and whimper wantonly.
"Knew you'd fit so perfectly around me", he claims with gritted teeth.
You moan at his words and start bouncing slowly, forehead pressed against his. His breath fans against your face, hitching as you make eye contact. He grips your hips, squeezing the plush flesh, almost definitely leaving bruises instantly.
"C'mon girly, I know you can do so much better than that, can't you? Or are you just that dumb, huh? Have you already gone all stupid on me, sugar?"
At his words, you speed up; the unmistakably wet sound of skin slapping takes over your home.
Teddy's head falls back in pleasure, and you swear you've never seen something so sinful.
He chokes out a groan and then pulls you off of him before all but flipping you over, your ass in the air, and head buried into your pillow.
"Should've known you'd be a needy little bitch", he spits out before pistoning into you without warning. He places one hand atop the back of your head, the other gripping painfully at your hip.
His nails dig further into your skin as his thrusts grow harsher. He moves his hand from your head, only to deliver a harsh smack to your bum- the sound ricocheting off the walls.
You squeal, tears welling in your eyes as he continues his assault on your ass, smirking to himself as you try and scoot away.
"Does it hurt, sugar?", he asks, already aware of your impending answer.
You nod your head, whimpering out the smallest "y-yes" he's ever heard.
"Oh, but I bet it hurts so good", he bites back before delivering on last smack.
Your legs begin to shake, and an orgasm that you didn't even feel building up crashes over your entire body like a tidal wave.
Teddy shakes his head and tuts, thrusts growing sloppier as he bites his lip, suppressing his own moans.
"P-please", you mumble underneath him- too far gone to truly understand what you're even saying.
He laughs lightly at your plea, "Mhm, I know, don't you worry, I'm right behind you, sugar".
You barely have a moment to process his declaration before he's letting out a string of curses as his spend fills you up. His tight grip on your hips loosens as he pulls out with a sigh, flopping next to you on the bed.
"I'd say we did a sufficient job of making up for lost time, what do you think?"
-just because i wrote about this does NOT mean i am into this or agree with it THIS IS FICTIONAL !!! Theodore Bagwell IS NOT REAL !!!!-
