Tw: 18+, smut, dubcon/noncon, knife play, home invasion, chasing, pervy stalker Bucky, yandere obsessive Bucky, referring to reader as ‘little rabbit’ but not in a pet play way, ends in angsty fluff, if I’m missing any major tags please lmk!
A/N: damn look at me uploading twice in one week, who would’ve thought. I have not been in a hurricane but I’ve been in a bunch of tornadoes and blizzards so I apologize if it’s not accurate. The first part of this is written in main POV but then switches to Bucky. Also I write my winter soldier fics w the super soldier build he’s supposed to have so he’s like beefy and 6’6 in my fics. This was written, edited, and posted from my phone so if it’s shitty idk what to tell you I just work here
You are responsible for your own media consumption. By continuing reading you confirm you are 18+, I do not give permission to have any of my work reposted or translated on any other platform even if you give credit
Louisiana, 2013:
A crack of thunder from the storm outside woke you like a loud alarm clock sending you straight up in bed. Your chest heaved as you looked around in the darkness as if you could see through it. With a bolt of lightning, your room illuminated from your window and the large figure that stood in your room made your heart race. The brief light had gone and you could no longer see what you prayed your imagination was concocting. “Hello?”
“You sleep peacefully,” a voice made of iron spoke back and you quickly snapped out of whatever dream-like haze you were still in.
“W-What are you doing in my house?”
Your voice sounded so weak and pathetic as you called out to the mysterious figure standing at the edge of your bed, you wish you were imagining things.
“I must take shelter.”
The more he spoke the coarse sharpness of the man's words felt like a bucket of ice water being dumped on you. It wasn’t a dream or even a nightmare, there was a giant of a man standing in your bedroom. Another flash of lightning through your window illuminated the soaking wet man with an expression as cold as the midnight air.
“Take anything you want, please god, just don’t hurt me.” You begged retreating to the furthest corner of the bed with your loose sheets balled up in your fists. This couldn’t be happening, not to you, not now.
“The weather, it is vengeful outside, your home was the easiest to get into. I lost the target but I cannot be taken back until the weather clears.”
The way he spoke was so foreign, but not in a language barrier. His words were so broken and fried like he hadn’t had a reason to speak in a long time.
“It’s a hurricane,” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf with your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. “Everyone had to evacuate.”
“Then why are you here?” He quizzed.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” you cleared your throat. “I figured I’d board up the windows and stay until it blew over.” You aren’t sure why you were explaining yourself to him when all you could think about right now is that you should’ve left with everyone else rather than be where you are. With a strange man dressed in tactical gear talking about losing his target broke into your home in the middle of the night with no neighbors nearby to hear you scream.
He only gave a soft grunt to reply. “My transit cannot arrive in these conditions, your house was the first I saw that wasn’t too barricaded I could get inside. You did not board your windows or doors as well as you claim.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” you begged, a stray tear rolling down your cheek. “You can take anything you want.”
“I said I needed shelter, I do not like repeating myself.” He scoffed. “Are you unable to hear? Why can you not listen?”
“I’m sorry,” you breathed heavily. “You don’t need to repeat it. I just want to make this easy for both of us and where no one has to get hurt.” But you both knew you couldn’t protect yourself from him.
He chuckled maniacally. “Oh, is that so? You offend me. Do you think you can overpower me? And how exactly would you do that?”
“I’m fast.” You tried to defend yourself, your eyes darting between him and your open bedroom door.
“Is that so?” His tongue grazed across his bottom lip. “Why don’t I give you a head start?” He stepped out of your line of path to the door.
“What?” You whimpered.
“You heard me,” his voice hardened like his stance. “I told you I will not repeat myself for your disrespect. I’m giving you a chance to get away; this is not an opportunity I give often.”
You stirred in bed, unsure of what to do.
“One…Two…I suggest you run, rabbit.”
Your feet hit the floor with a clap of thunder. You slept only in a shirt and underwear, not exactly running clothes, let alone one you could escape in this weather. You bolted through your home, your mind rushing a thousand miles a minute, trying to come up with a plan, anything to survive.
“Little rabbit,” his heavy boots stomped slowly from your bedroom. “I’m going to get you, and I’m going to enjoy it.”
You got to your front door, still barricaded from the inside, you couldn’t get out, not quick enough at least. You didn’t know what window he came in, you didn’t exactly have the time to search either.
Spinning back around you ran into the kitchen, the humidity the storm was creating slickened every surface. You scrambled through your drawers for a knife, cursing yourself for never owning enough silverware.
“That is it?” A scoff huffed from the archway into the kitchen. You whipped back around holding a knife in his direction. “Couldn’t find a way out?”
“Stay back!” You yelled with false confidence. “I’ll use it!”
The man laughed, mumbling something in a language you couldn’t understand. “And what are you going to do with that, little rabbit?” He crept closer to you as you were backed against the kitchen sink.
The underlying growl of his breathing was close enough that you could feel it against your skin, like a panther ready to catch its prey.
He grabbed the knife from you by the blade with no hint of pain and snapped it in half from the handle before tossing it across the floor. You gasped at the inhuman display of strength and clutched your arms over your chest as if it would do anything to protect you but it only accentuated your breasts through your shirt. When you watched his eyes follow your figure you quickly repositioned yourself to hide.
Towering over you with his massive build he grabbed your arms and pried them from you, exposing you to him, your oversized shirt being the only thing covering you.
“Pretty little rabbit,” he grunted, the water still dripping wet off of him now getting on you.
You stayed frozen in pure terror as he ducked down and dragged his nose along your neck.
“I can smell how scared you are.” His deep voice vibrated against your skin. “Do I scare you, little rabbit?”
“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, your eyes staying anchored to the corner of the wall away from him as you tried to pretend you didn’t see him smelling you like you were his next meal.
“Poor thing,” he grinned with condescension before inhaling your hair. He surprised you when he let go of your hands, only to pull something from his tactical belt, but he stood hips pressed against you with no way for you to move.
“Please, don’t!” You gasped as the glint of the metal of his switchblade caught the faint light created by the roaring storm outside. He taunted it in front of your face, close enough for your shaky breath to fog the blade.
He then grabbed your hand and wrapped it around the handle of the knife, leaving it in your hand. “My knife is better; try again.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion. Was he so confident that even with a real weapon you couldn’t do anything or did he just have a death wish?
You could only stay frozen with his knife in your hand pointed at his chiseled face where he positioned you. “Try to get away. Do your worst, little rabbit.”
Uncomfortably you could only stare at him not understand what his game was and notice how truly beautiful the man was. “I won’t win.”
“I know,” his tongue brushed across his bottom lip as he stared at you like a starving wolf. “But I want to see you struggle, want to watch you play, little rabbit.”
You quickly swung the knife aiming it at his jugular. But he confiscated your hands even faster, restraining them in his and twisting them with superhuman strength, forcing you to spin and bend to his will and push you down to the kitchen counter knocking the knife down with it.
“That is better, little one.” He praised proudly filling you with an embarrassing sense of accomplishment. “You might be able to fight off an intruder, an average male perhaps. But that is not me, you will never stand a chance. I am not only a man, my blood pumps with power in ways you cannot imagine.”
“Please, don’t do this.” You begged, realizing the predicament of your position. Restrained, bent over, your shirt riding up leaving your panty clad pelvis on display in front of a violent man who had been looking at you as if you were his next meal. “I won’t say anything. I’ll be good.”
“Oh, you’ll be good you say?” He retorted, grabbing the knife beside you where it dropped. “I will be the judge of your word then, little rabbit.”
As you began to wreathe in protest he swiftly threw you back over his muscular shoulder like you weighed nothing. You struggled in his grasp as he walked back to your bedroom on the other side of the house, his knife between his teeth.
With his muddy boots, he kicked your bedroom door open wider, leaving a trail throughout the home. Throwing you onto the bed, you slightly bounced against the springed mattress. You scrambled to try to scamper away but he knew your play before you did and straddled your hips. Despite having the knife in his mouth, with his bare hands he ripped your shirt in half, ignoring the yelp from you. He wrapped the shredded fabric around your wrists and then to the headboard. You wanted to fight back more but he’d already proved so many times how you could never overpower him, you could never get away.
After properly tying your wrists to the headboard he stepped off of the bed to look down at his prize lying before him. His jaw clenched tighter around the knife as he admired your body and the way your breasts rose with your heavy breathing.
His gloved hand groped your chest before he traced his fingers down your sternum watching your skin erupt in goosebumps in his trail. When leading to your hips he pulled your underwear off you now leaving you completely bare to him. With your torn balled up underwear in his hand, he held them to his nose and inhaled deeply. You cringed at the primal act as if he was trying to memorize your scent like a bloodhound before dropping your underwear to the floor.
You wiggled below his towering gaze as if your struggle would somehow free you from your confines but you only excited him further.
His stiff hands spread your thighs apart sternly but not violently, it was as if you were a delicate test subject. He inspected you like an artifact, his eyes so drawn in you’d think he was hypnotized.
He pulled his knife out of his mouth, the handle wet with his saliva, and held it tightly by the blade guiding the handle of it between your legs. “No!” You protested, scared of what the evil man had planned.
“You do not order me, little rabbit.” He ricocheted your attempt, yet his eyes never left.
If there was one thing he knew it was to hunt. In his hunt, he watched and waited for his mission, but never missed the world that lived on around him. More often than not when he’d stake out on a building's rooftop peering through the windows of the one across he’d see the lives of others blissfully unaware of him. He’d seen the act of sex many many times and he’d watched so infatuated with the desperate yet devoted act of affection and touch he didn’t believe he would ever receive, he didn’t deserve to be a recipient anyway.
The way a man could draw a woman to tears and pleas in ways he wasn’t aware was capable of doing. Whenever he did it it was because they were about to die at his hand, but when he saw it done with pleasure and ecstasy he was filled with impatient envy.
He always noted the way they would react to the specific types of movements from their lover. Different decades, different people, and yet their reactions would be universal whenever the man’s fingers would enter her or his head would live between her thighs and devour her whole. He paid attention to the alternating styles between pairs. Sometimes soft and loving, others fast and rough, from behind, the woman on top with her head thrown back in a moan, or her lips around his cock, it didn’t matter how but all he could dream about was being the one. He wanted to feel a human touch he thought he’d never live as if he was incapable of being desired like that.
And he had entered your home, prepared to kill anyone who resided but came across you sleeping so peacefully despite the apocalyptic weather raging outside. And he thought of all the times he’d seen lovers devout themselves to each other in the sheets of a bed. And how he thought even unaware of his presence, gently asleep, you looked so beautiful he wanted to touch you the way he’d seen others do over and over again. He wanted to try every single way he’d ever seen before with you. Some more than others; he didn’t want the emotionless fuck from behind. He wanted to look at you, see you beg for him, and this time not just for your life.
Breathing heavily he dragged the handle of the same knife you tried to kill him with between your legs. You jolted as the rounded edge of the handle slid between your lips, glistening with your arousal. He played every interaction in his head the way he’d do late at night when his cock grew hard and he could only alleviate the pain by fucking his hand and imagining himself to do if he ever got the chance to do so himself to a pretty woman who kissed him deeply.
All the ways he’d seen women in pleasure even without a partner. Using fake phallas shaped items to fuck themselves as if there was a partner there until they cried out and released in the way he recognized for himself.
Gripping the blade tightly digging into his palm and guarding you from pain he began to slide his tool inside of you, watching you tense up. He didn’t care about the sharp slicing against his hand when all he could focus on was how you tried to mask your pleasure induced cries from him and the sound of how wet you were. “My little rabbit,” he bellowed with need. “You take my knife so well, the way your body reacts even if you try to pretend it doesn’t. I know I am making you feel good. I want to watch you finish, I want to watch you cry for me.”
You shook your head faintly trying to deny what he could tell was building up inside of you. He paid attention to your heart rate, counting the fast beats and making sure you weren’t going to go into cardiac arrest. “I do not know why you deny yourself. Show me you will behave, that you can be good like you claim. I do not plan on stopping until I get what I want from you, be a good girl for me, and let your body take control. There’s nothing in that brain of yours anyway.”
Your hips met with the thrust of his knife as your half lidded eyes met his with your lips parted in a moan. As you poured into his eyes like a siren he swore to whatever higher power may exist that he wasn’t going to stop. He didn’t care if you begged and begged and fought him, he wasn’t going to stop until he couldn’t draw anything else from either of you. “Cry out for me, little rabbit.”
Your eyes squeezed shut as a whine similar to a symphonic masterpiece rang from you and a gush of arousal flooded his hand the way the streets were flooded outside.
Once your body grew rigid at the thrusts of his knife he pulled the weapon out of you and admired the sticky release left in its wake. He brought the handle to your mouth. “Clean my knife.”
You shuddered once more this time with fear as your lips parted just enough to slide the slicked handle in your pretty mouth. Your lips latched around it the way he’d seen women do on a cock and he hoped this storm would last for much longer so he’d get the chance to feel your warm wet mouth on him until he filled your mouth with his cum.
When he felt satisfied by your work he pulled it from your lips before switching it back closed to tuck back into his tactical belt. Your dazed eyes followed his every move, unsure of what his next plan was. This time he shocked you as he began to completely undress himself. He’d only seen men also bare with women and although he worried about you seeing his arm he didn’t want to do this wrong when he fantasized about it for so long.
Insecurity coursed through him as your eyes roamed over every inch of him, surprise coming across your face at the reveal of his arm but you didn’t say anything. He was glad you didn’t think he looked like the monster he actually was deep inside.
He moved onto the bed, positioning himself to kneel between your damp thighs. You started to reel back in from your orgasm as you realized what he was beginning to do as he guided his cock to your cunt. He slid his tip through your lips, over the spot at the top that made you whimper earlier only to drive the noise from you again.
If he kept it up he would cum just from sliding his cock through your slit but he didn’t want to waste his first load on that. He needed it to be buried deep inside your womb.
“Wait,” you struggled against your restraints as his throbbing tip teased your entrance. “You need to wear a condom, please!”
He only shook his head, he didn’t understand, but it was irrelevant when there was nothing in the world that would separate him from being inside of you bare.
His vibranium hand cradled under your thigh before hoisting it over his shoulder. He tried to ignore the way you flinched at the feel of the metal even if you didn’t say anything it still made him feel like a creature. He admired the way your body spread below him in the positions he forced you into. Before your still orgasm shocked brain could comprehend he thrust himself fully inside of you.
The moan that left him was one that could be described as unholy, unhuman, the way a creature would relish in joy when finally getting to feel the little human he’d been chasing after. You were the little rabbit he had been chasing and he was going to enjoy every second of ruining you.
“No, it’s too big, it hurts!” You plead, trying to pull away from him but he silenced you with a deep thrust that forced all of him inside of you, stretching you just for him.
“Shh,” he hushed. “Take it like you are meant to, little rabbit. Your body needs me, I can feel it inside of you.”
Leaning down to your face, stretching your leg uncomfortably with it, his lips ghosted over yours, confused and frustrated. He didn’t want to kiss you poorly, kissing was always introduced in every encounter he watched, and he assumed that intimacy was just as important as the act itself.
Like matching puzzle pieces his body fit perfectly into yours as he was pressed entirely onto you, his towering frame consumed you as he dragged his hips slowly inside of you. Your whimpers grew more desperate and uncontrollable with the slow dragging movement. He tried to keep from fucking into you fast, he wanted you to feel good. You looked too beautiful like this to try to deny you anything but as much pleasure as he could create. It was the first time someone had a reaction to him that wasn’t pure terror and he never thought he’d crave the feeling of someone pressed to him with the goal of happiness in sight.
“Kiss me,” he whispered, your noses brushing against each other. You hesitantly nodded before taking his lips into yours. Like much of his social intelligence, he pretended to know more than he did by copying others. He mimicked the way your soft mouth moved against his, the intoxicating feeling of your tongue brushing against his bottom lip. For a moment he thought he had died and gone to heaven, but there was no way a killer like him would go anywhere but the depths of hell. The peace you were creating for him felt nothing like he’d known at least not for some time. Like it was a distant memory he couldn’t recall.
He reached to your wrists bound to the headboard and yanked the piece tying them to the post free. He moved your stiff arms behind his neck, forcing you into a further embrace. He wanted to feel every inch of you until there was nothing left.
Every moan he drew from you separating your lips from each other for a brief moment felt more and more beautiful. He tried to convince himself he must’ve been imagining you latching onto him, pulling him closer. Your legs now wrapped around his waist, pushing your hips up to meet his, your tied wrists pulling his neck down to stay connected to you, the way you were squeezing his cock so tight.
“F-Faster, please.” You whispered, shame dissipating with each thrust inside of you, unable to hide what he was making you feel.
Wordlessly only with a confirming grunt, he thrusted into you at a new speed that he no longer had to restrain himself from.
He wouldn’t dare do anything to interrupt your song of climax, needing to hear every note he played from you. He kissed down to your neck, his teeth hungrily nipping at the skin like a wolf going for a kill. “Oh my god…” you called out with a strained voice as you gripped tighter around him and he thought he was going to die right then and there but there was truly no death he’d rather want than to be inside of you.
The sensation of feeling your release between where the two of you met, was a favorite recent discovery of his in comparison to the way he came.
Cursing something in Russian he followed shortly behind your orgasm, buried deep inside of you against your womb he flooded you with his own.
He road out his brain-numbing high, his thrusts slowing to a halt. He couldn’t bring himself to separate from you, he wasn’t sure it was possible. He belonged pressed against you, inside of you, filling your womb, his lips against yours, any way possible it didn’t matter how, just as long as he was touching you.
A chill ran over his heart as you removed your arms from around his neck and your legs unraveled from him silently urging him off of you. He looked back over your blissfully exhausted expression and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your forehead before pulling out of you.
He looked over your shaking body, fascinated with the reactions he created from you, he wanted to do it over and over again in as many ways as possible.
It was an automatic response to tend to you, as if you were his pet he needed to take care of because you were too helpless to do it properly for yourself. A bathroom en-suite door remained cracked open on the other side of the room. He retrieved a cloth he ran under the faucet water he made sure wasn’t too cold for comfort.
You had given him the greatest thing anyone ever had, or anyone ever could, he wanted to dote on you and praise you for it. He wanted to protect his little rabbit with his life.
Returning to you, alarms went off inside of him as he watched you cry. “What is wrong?” He looked over you, scared he might’ve hurt you too badly that he would never forgive himself for it.
“I’m a bad person,” you confessed and he only looked at you with a furrowed brow as he began to clean you with the cloth. “I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have liked that, I’m a bad person, what’s wrong with me-“
“Enough,” he interrupted your anxious ramblings. If you thought you were a bad person for your reactions he didn’t want you to ever know half the things he’s done as a trained assassin. “I am not a normal man.” He reiterated. “I wanted you to feel good, I knew how to do so even through your hesitancy.” He was just winging it. “I asked you to let yourself go, and as you said yourself, you are a good girl and you keep your word and obey orders.”
The soldier stroked along your cheek trying to mimic comfort. He did not want you to feel guilt for something as beautiful as what the two of you did. “You are nothing but pure to me, little rabbit. You made me feel something I didn’t know I would ever deserve to feel. And for that, you are a good person, you are honest. If you must blame someone blame me, because you’ve done nothing wrong, I do not believe you are capable of doing so if you tried.”
Another tear left your eye, this time in appreciation and not sadness, with a gentle nod.
“I must go, little rabbit.” He sighed wanting anything but to leave you. Dread filled your face and he wanted to slit his own throat for being the reason you would look at him in such a way. “I can’t have them know you saw me… I could not live if they were to hurt you…”
You swallowed your tears and nodded once more as you watched him redress. He hoped you didn’t notice him sneaking the panties he’d taken off of you into one of his pockets.
After he dressed you cleared your throat and held out your tied wrists in his direction. He tried to hide his grin, replaying everything he had just done to you trying to commit it to memory enough he’d remember it even through the next round in the chair.
Pulling the notorious switchblade from his belt he cut your wrists free from the makeshift confines of the fabric that was once your shirt.
“Thank you,” you whispered and he wanted to applaud you once more for your manner. You were the good girl you promised him.
He clicked his knife back shut before setting it on your nightstand. Although he would only ever be able to keep you in his memories he wanted to give you something. A sick feeling came across his stomach thinking of you forgetting him.
“As much as I am grateful you stayed home,” he began. “If the weather becomes like this again and they order you to leave, you leave. Do not wait it out like you said, you leave with everyone else and you get to safety, nature will not show mercy the way I did. Do you promise?”
“I promise,” your voice delicate at the feeling of disappointment and discipline.
“Plus, you are not good at barricading yourself as you claim to be.”
He committed the sight of a faint laugh leaving your lips, it being the most beautiful thing will ever hear.
“Be good little rabbit.”
///
A/n: this could very easily have a part two but it would be present day and not dark!bucky so idk if Yall would fw that but i also feel like it would be similar to my Bride Of Soldat fic that I accidentally abandoned. Also why this is the second fic I’ve written about being trapped in extreme weather (the first being Blizzard w Dark!Steve).
My different taglists are always open if you want Bucky content or marvel content I’m happy to add anyone!
TW: 18+, Smut, daddy kink, choking, breeding kink, degradation, torture, isolation tacts, cannibalism, murder, discussions of Suicide, Assualt, Kidnapping, Trafficking, this chapter is incredibly dark, if I'm missing any major tags please let me know!
a/n: once again didn't post for a long time, my bad I'm kind of miserable in my life and can't get out of bed or take care of myself most days. This is only going to have about three, maybe four parts left depending on the word count. I've been told people don't enjoy longer updates since they take too much time to read so I tried to shorten this one and this was the best I could do lol.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. By continuing reading you confirm you are 18+, I do not give permission to have any of my work reposted or translated on any other platform even if you give credit.
It had been ten days since you’d last seen Ransom.
He came while you were asleep though. There would be new food in the fridge every morning for you. For a few days, you tried to pretend to be asleep to see when he’d come in like a child staying awake to see Santa Claus come down the chimney, but you’d always fall asleep.
He left a tube of Neosporin and band-aids on the bathroom counter for the cuts on your hand from the shattered glass in his Grandfather’s study and such empathetic detail made your heart flutter. He was furious with you but Ransom was still going to take care of you. And you hated to say you missed him. You told yourself you just missed the presence of other people but a part of you wondered if it was Ransom you missed or if it was just loneliness. But you knew he missed you too.
Yesterday when you woke up the pillow on the side of the other side of the bed smelled faintly like his cologne and aftershave. He’d laid beside you in your sleep and although unnervingly creepy it made you feel bittersweet.
But without things to keep you from losing your mind while trapped in here the time moved at a snail speed and it felt like this was actual purgatory. He’d taken all forms of entertainment and ways to pass the time.
You created a routine for yourself to keep sane.
Wake up, check the basement to see if Ransom had decided to stay, look into the fridge to see what he brought you, and plan out when you will eat what. You’d shower and do your makeup, although there was no one to see it it at least helped keep you occupied. You’d walk toe to toe over each square foot of the basement. You’d count all the tiles in the bathroom and kitchen. You’d do sit-ups and push-ups until you tired yourself out enough to take a nap. When you wake up you’d eat whatever meals he brought you the previous night. You washed what clothes you had in the bathtub with hand soap, not ideal but better than nothing.
Every day you’d conserve water and ration food. You didn’t know how long you’d be down here without company, maybe eventually his delivery service would stop altogether. Maybe he’d shut the power off and turn off the water connection for the basement. Everything with a lid that could store water was filled and hidden from spying eyes throughout the basement. He could cut off your food supply and you could still survive for quite some time but water was something you wouldn’t survive long without.
At least once a day you’d sneakily lift the corner mattress just enough to see the dozen or so sedative pills from Steve that you managed to stash before Ransom staged your offbeat intervention. You told yourself if you were alone down here for 20 days you’d do it. You thought about doing it now, especially since your most recent flight attempt set back any opportunity of escape for a while, if ever again. But the pained expression with flashes of trauma across Ransom’s face when he told you about the woman he accidentally tortured and watching her slit her own throat you didn’t want him to see that again. Even though it would be his fault, he’s the one that brought you to that point in the first place, you didn’t like thinking about him finding you like that. He deserved torment but you didn’t want it to be in exchange for your life. You gave yourself a time limit. 20 days and that’s it. Whether it was Ransom’s original 100-day time limit or your 20-day death timer not much had changed as time was still death. 20 days and you’d swallow all the pills you had left and escape from this basement one way or another.
You wanted more proof of Bethany, you didn’t want her to fade so easily. Her hairbrush had now since been removed from under the bathroom cabinet, Ransom must have had to have taken it in one of his late night visits.
You laid on the floor of the closet and stared up at the array of hanging clothes above you as if they were stars in the night sky. You raised your hand and gently brushed back and forth over the various materials of the various items.
With brittle nails your scratched messages along the baseboard of the closet. Something that could only be noticed if another person who was also was laying on the closet floor lost in the purgatory time loop that was your punishment. Something only a person in peril could find. An expired SOS that would bring comfort or fear.
You carved out your name,
seeing it in writing felt different.
19
the age you fear would be the oldest you’d grow
RANSOM BOUGHT ME FROM STEVE,
like a used couch found online.
BETHANY KILLED HERSELF TO GET PUT B4 I CAME,
that was all you knew of her
IF U SEE THIS I AM DEAD & U R TRAPPED 2,
maybe he bought the next one from Steve too, maybe he saw her out in public the way her had the girl before you.
DO NOT TRUST HIM
You thought of Sarah, the girl from Steve’s basement who you never saw, only met through the walls of the cells he kept you locked in. A voice that made every fiber of your being want to revolt and yet you didn’t have a face to match it with.
“Beat him, kill him if you need to. You’re the only chance of stopping these monsters.”
You knew she’s been long dead by now but you liked to pretend she wasn’t. Maybe he miraculously let her go, maybe she snuck out, maybe someone bought her the way Ransom bought you but you’re not sure if that was a fate worse than death.
Sarah’s words needed to be transcribed, they were only whispered to you, and you could only whisper them to yourself, but her words needed to be in person. There needed to be proof of her. You carved the final words she ever spoke to you
BEAT HIM
KILL HIM IF U HAVE 2
You hoped the next girl would be stronger than you. You’d grown too attached to Ransom as much as you hated to admit it you knew it was true. You missed him and even his cold personality and snide remarks accompanied with a whiplashing personality. You missed the world and Ransom was the closest you’d get to it.
Your fingernails bled after your repeated carving along the wood. With your luck it’d be tetanus that’d kill you instead of him.
You crawled off the cold basement flooring from the closet to the bed and snuggled into the mound of blankets and pillows you had lined up beside you as if there was company you were lying beside. You laid your head on their fake chest and swung your leg over them and pretended like it was a rainy day out and you were staying in bed with your handsome mystery lover.
That was an experience you never lived but you read about in books and seen in movies and that pretend sentimental affection was something that kept you going. And you tried to ignore the fact the faceless lover would become Ransom and quickly reimagine him to look like a celebrity crush.
Something about him being disappointed in you filled your throat with bile like you were being grounded for a bad grade. He’s done so much for you and this is how you repay-
Shut the fuck up. Shut up shut up shut up shut up.
You bolted up in bed from your drowsy game of pretend to ream yourself for the pitiful disgusting thoughts. Never think of him like that. He bought you, he could’ve let you go, he could’ve called the police, he could’ve gotten help.
Your fingers laced through your unkept hair scratching at your scalp with your palms to your eyes. Jesus Christ you needed help.
You forced yourself to lay back down and wrap yourself back in the cocoon of your pillow partner and resumed pretending like it was a cute actor from a superhero franchise who was hotter than he was good at acting.
///
With your clock gone and no sign of sunlight you had no clue how long you slept. Maybe a few hours, maybe 10. You only knew when night came by the treats left for you.
You shuffled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to see the care package he left behind in your slumber. New bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a bath bomb all tucked inside.
You carried the new toiletries to the bathroom before moving the jars of water you had stored inside the tub and turning on the rickety faucet, brushing your hand across to feel the warming temperature. You shed your clothes and you wondered if Ransom was watching. He said he didn’t have any camera facing the corner of the bathroom with the toilet and bath but by now it’d be stupid to trust anything he said. If he wanted to watch you shit and shower then that’s his gross decision.
As you stripped you still gave him a bit of a show, something that would hopefully get him to crack and face you. The bath bomb he left fizzled a soft purple hue, tinting the water with it. You rolled the dissolving ball around your hands, enjoying the tickling sensation and lavender aroma.
You kept your bathing routine as normal, adding some pornographic flares to attract him. Spreading the white sudsy soap across your breasts, rubbing it in as if you could cum from that alone. Lifting your leg high to brush the soapy loofah down your shin, leaving all of your touches slow and delicate.
After you drained the tub and dried off in front of the mirror where you knew at least one camera faced, taking your time to dry every inch of you off and wrap the towel loosely around your chest.
You were now determined to get him to finally break and come down here. You needed something, anything from him, and today was the day you were going to make sure he finally faced you.
The blow dryer rang next to your ears until you switched it off and began to do your makeup. Nothing heavy, light and natural, a simple ‘gee I had no idea you’d be coming down here and yet I still look seductive enough to fuck’.
A part of you cringed at your desperation but right now he could come down here, spit in your face, and go back up stairs and you’d be happy with even that little of human interaction.
Dropping your towel onto bathroom floor you waltzed in the nude to your bedroom in your closet you had spent the previous night laying on the floor in and having a mental breakdown.
You grabbed a simple silk slip nightgown opting out of a bra and just sticking to lacy panties. You kept your facade of accidentally being prepared to get fucked.
What were you doing?
Shaking your head and looking over yourself in the mirror posted in your room. You were parading yourself around just praying that he happened to be watching the cameras and he’d happen to be horny enough he’d finally come down here and free your touch starved condition. At this point it could be anyone coming down those steps to touch you as little or as much as they want and you’d thank them for it. You’d been so deprived of human interaction you didn’t care what it took. You gave yourself a timer similar to the 100 days he first gave you, except when yours was up you’d swallow the handful of sedatives tucked under your mattress you’d managed to hide before Ransom took them away.
Your movements remained delicate and smooth like a cat on a windowsill as you made your way to the common area to the refrigerator to get some cool water on your tongue and settle your shame.
The sudden sound of the basement door being unlocked made you gasp and drop your water. “Shit,” you grunted to yourself, grabbing a hand towel and dropping to your knees to clean up the mess.
“Aw,” the familiar yet unexpected voice cooed. “It’s like you knew I was coming so you got on your knees.”
As if the water was icy enough, Steve’s voice was a shock through your nervous system. “Scared me…dropped my water.” Your voice was thin from days of being out of commission.
Ransom followed behind him, swiftly locking the door after they were both in.
Steve walked and stood over you with a bouquet of pink roses in hand and what looked like a gift bag. His hair was neatly gelled over with a tight button up black shirt on.
He extended his other hand out to you to help you stand. “Don’t you look like a doll and you’re not even aware of what I’ve had planned for you.”
Your lips pinched in disgusted fear as you looked to Ransom, who was silent for the first time in his life, looking at you with already guilty eyes. But anger was rising behind his irises and although he was going to feel bad for you he was still gonna enjoy watching.
Steve pressed a kiss to your lips as you stayed staring silently at Ransom. “Now, I haven’t seen you in a while. You can kiss me better than that, princess.”
You looked back over to Steve, wrapping an arm over his shoulder to stand on your tiptoes to press a deep kiss to his lips. You prayed your affection would lessen the blow of whatever he was planning.
“There’s my girl,” Steve grinned as the two of you parted. “Brought you some stuff,” he walked to the kitchen counter laying the flowers on their sides and moving the a container from the bag he had brought into the fridge.
“Thank you, Steve.” Your voice was unsteady as you stared at Ransom while Steve’s back was to the two of you. The bags under his eyes were noticeable and his face expressed guilt before the party even started. When Steve turned back around after closing the fridge Ransom’s eyes left yours and his expression changed as he faced Steve. Anger, excitement for revenge and punishment. This is it, you told yourself. He send Steve to torture and kill me because he’s not man enough to do it on his own. Fucking coward
“Now, now sweet girl.” Steve quickly pulled you to him, your back against his chest with his chin against your ear, his devilish hands roaming your curves as if to refimilairize himself with them. “Ransom here told me you’ve been a bad girl. Is that right?”
A shaking nod was all you could muster up as his hardened breathing echoed in your ear. “I’m sorry, Angel. If only Ransom would’ve grew some balls your little attitude problem would’ve been gone much longer ago.”
“R-Ransom is good to me,” you stuttered, feeling as if you were at gunpoint. “I just got scared, I shouldn’t have done that. I regret it, I don’t want this to happen.” Your confession was more or less bullshit but it’s been the closest you could get to pretending to apologize to Ransom. “Steve, I don’t want to be the only time I see you to be punished. I don’t want to feel like I’m in trouble everytime I see you.” You were always disgusted by Steve but as Pavlos Dog you only associated his visits with pain.
“I know baby, but once we get this outta the way you’ll see me so much more and as long as you behave I won’t need to keep you in line. I have a feeling this time is gonna be different.” His nails dug into your thighs, pulling at the silk nightgown that was surely too expensive for you to ever afford. “So you must pay for your sins if you really want forgiveness, angel.”
The silk sultry dress ripped down the center and a gasp left your lips. Lust filled Ransom’s eyes as you never left his gaze even with the devil on your shoulder. Except he wanted to be the one ripping that nightgown off your smooth skin and bruising you the way Steve was planning to. Ransom had twisted desires but none in comparison to Steve.
“Now, Ransom, I think it’s time for you to go.” Steve pulled to shredded fabric from your skin and the cold basement air prickled your skin.
His jaw clenched as he watched your face become painted in terror. “He’s just too easy on you baby. How are you gonna learn if he’s babying you the entire time? He’ll be back but I know he unfortunately has a soft spot for you and your pretty tears so he’ll come back when all the hard work is finished. So be a good girl and get on your knees.”
You fought the urge to break down into tears as you subcame to his wish, kneeling to the carpet while Steve returned to the bag he left on the kitchen counter. You looked once more to Ransom before he left, silently praying he’d stop whatever was about to happen but he stared at your nude body from under your shredded dress before leaving the basement.
///
You weren’t sure how much time had passed as sobs left you as you stared at the faint pin point in the wall you created for yourself as an anchor as you tried to keep yourself steady.
An unexpected tool from Steve’s never ending bag of wonders was a bag of uncooked rice. His teeth tore the packaging open before dumping most of it onto the linoleum side of the kitchen. “Here,” he snapped his fingers at you like a dog. “Crawl.”
Hesitantly your left your kneel and crawled on your hands and knees to him. As the hardened rice imbedded themselves into your palms and knees you quickly cried out in pain. “On your knees, face the wall.” He ordered. “Hands behind your back.”
It felt more like you were being barked at by the police. Cracked gasps off pain left you as you maneuvered yourself in the way of his direction. The grains of rice felt like broken glass on your knees and shins as he had you trying to remain balanced with your hands behind your back.
Tears clouded your eyes as he sat on the couch parallel with a foot resting on the edge of the coffee table. “If you fall, we start over. Do you understand?”
“Yes…sir…” you tried to force yourself to breathe but it felt useless.
Steve looked down on you from his perch like he was at a zoo gawking over an animal that will never leave the confines of a glass cage and will never know the real world or the joys of freedom.
The grains of rice sliced into your knees and you felt like they were piles of hot broken glass as you tried to keep your hands behind your back and stay upright. Time stood still and it felt like you were in this purgatory for ten hours but really it had only been 30 minutes. You sobbed like a widowed bride, how something as little as a grain of rice on linoleum tile being embedded into your skin could be one of the most painful things you’ve ever felt. You preferred Ransom’s cold shoulder and isolation tactics over Steve’s torture.
You remembered being told about this old school punishment tactic that remained out of date for a reason after a fight you got in with your mom. “When I mouthed off to my mom she used to make me kneel on grains of rice, that’s how I got these scars on my knee.” You remember telling yourself your mom was just being dramatic and it couldn’t have been that bad, it’s just rice. If you ever see your mother again you’re going to tell you that you’re sorry for doubting the pain of this punishment.
Your vision so blurred from tears that you could barely register Steve’s movement as he leaned over the side of the couch and pulled a newspaper out of his bag.
“You see that, sweetheart?” Steve’s legs swept from the table to the floor beckoning you to lean forward as he unfolded the newspaper.
You looked up to the page he held out to you to see. “Read it out loud.”
“No…” you whispered as you saw the photo of yourself staring back.
“Read it. Out. Loud.” Steve ordered, his hand gripping onto the paper like he was filled with unbridled joy. .
“Search for missing college girl called off…” it felt like your heart had plummeted to the bottom of the earth. Steve nodded for you to continue. “Disfigured female body found in woods, twenty miles from the bar where she was last seen. Although there is no conclusive DNA match, they believe articles of her clothing were found at the scene. But as winter is beginning, the official search shall continue in the spring…for her body.”
It was a dystopian feeling. Reading about how the people rescuing you, your only hope in surviving, were giving up. They were no longer looking for you, they were so close you could taste it, but they turned their life boats around and there was no screaming for rescue. They didn’t believe you were alive, it wouldn’t make sense for them to. You wouldn’t have been kept alive for this long, and if you did escape you wouldn’t survive in the woods during the winter. It was now a search for what remained.
“That wasn’t even my doing, isn’t that crazy?” Steve chuckled, folding the paper back up and tossing it beside him. “Probably just some rotted hooker and they’re getting the heat on them to close the case. They found their scapegoat alright, and that means no one will be looking for you. They have been searching for months and yet they never got close, that must be so embarrassing.”
Your mind raced like a hamster in its wheel as you tried to ignore the idea of another victim going unsolved due to the police getting tired of wasting their resources and time. When you saw the police sketch of Steve in Ransom’s parent’s kitchen you really thought there was a chance, but it was only a lie to yourself. The picture was a generic middle aged handsome white man, one that probably couldn’t be picked particularly out of a line up.
“Know just how easy you have it.” He stood from the couch above you. “There’s someone else in the world out there who would’ve left your body to be eaten by animals in the woods.”
“I know…” you grimaced in pain. “I’ll never try to be bad again. Please…hurts so badly.”
After what felt like centuries your eyes remained so flooded with tears you couldn’t see him in front of you, only just the vague shape of his shadow. “Ready to be good?”
“Please!” You cried. With a push on your shoulder that felt light as a gust of wind you fell to the rice free side of the floor, sprawled along the lined boarder where the linoleum kitchen tiles separated into the carpet, the lower half of you against the cold smooth surface and the top half on the scratchy carpet. Steve scooped you in his arms while you were limp and easy to manipulate over his shoulder.
The blood was quick to rush to your head when you were kept over his shoulder like a heavy sack of flour. “I think you’ve had enough of that one, haven’t you? I was getting a bit bored.” You’d roll your eyes if you had any energy left in you. You weren’t sure how long you knelt under his watch, it felt like years.
Steve tossed you on the bed so nonchalantly before stepping back out to fetch his bag of horrifying mystery. Your eyes were quick to flutter shut. You were too drained and the thought of seeing Ransom after this filled you with both relief and anger. Steve was right, for being a kidnapper he was too soft on you and you were banking on the softness of his wannabe heart to save you. Unlike Steve, Ransom wanted to be human but there would always be a black hole inside of him. And Steve was right, now they will never find you, they never would’ve been anyway.
A bundle of red nylon rope bounced on the bed beside you where Steve tossed it. “I did bring rope, I miss seeing you tied up for me. But I think you’re smart enough to not try to put up a fight. You’re a dumb cunt but I do love beating into submission. I don't plan on stopping just yet. I still have so much planned for us.”
The tip of your nose burned as you started to cry again but you aren’t sure you ever stopped in the first place. If there was any makeup left on your face it was gone by now. You could feel it dried and flaking against your skin, surely you looked crazy but your appearance was the last of your cares, you hoped you looked like shit for him.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Steve tugged at your hair enough to force you to open your eyes to look into the face of the devil. “As long as you behave I’ll only tie your wrists instead of tying you completely to the bed. Now, are you gonna be a good girl for daddy or are you gonna be a bad little slut?”
You nodded barely moving your head.
“Say it.” Steve demanded with a hissing tongue.
“I’ll behave for daddy, I’ll be a good girl.” As much as it burned it felt nice to say anything that wasn’t a pleading sob but you hated the words that came from your mouth.
“Look at you, you’re taking your punishment so well. Maybe I’ll consider a lesser sentence but I wouldn’t count on it, Angel.” He mockingly cooed before motioning for you to sit up.
“Thank you, daddy.” You kept your wrists together and raised them for him to tie. Your voice was broken but you knew what he wanted to hear.
“Atta’ girl,” he smiled, unraveling the rope before twisting it entricantly around your wrists binding them together. “You really are my Angel, ya know? Ever since I trapped you in that basement you’re all I think about. You’re the only girl who I haven’t fantasized about murdering in quite sometime. You may misbehave but what Angel would be compliant with the devil? I’ve truly enjoyed breaking you and I’ll never stop.”
The confession was so heartfelt and genuine that it was one of the most terrifying things he ever said to you because he wasn’t meaning it metaphorically. He had planned on killing you to begin with. And you know he saw you as angelic and innocent for him to taint with his bloody hands.
Your chest erupted into a sob that you could no longer push back. The built up days of isolation and pain taking you apart more by the minute.
“Aw sweetheart,” Steve awed, kneeling beside the bed in front of you. “Such a pretty angel for me, isn’t that right? Crying those pretty angel tears that make my cock so fucking hard.”
He stood back up, grabbing your chin to look up at him before he bent over and licked the tear slick trail on the side of your face. If you had the energy to be grossed out you would.
He pulled away and grabbed another trinket from him bag: a Polaroid camera. “Wanna keep you like this always, even years from now surely you’ll be dead soon but I’ll always have these pictures. Like a time capsule I’ll keep you trapped inside off.”
What was it about psychos and Polaroid cameras? Are serial killers keeping them still in business?
You looked up at him, your facial expression remaining dull and dead even after the flash went off.
Click. Flash.
You grimaced at the aggressive flash of bright white light with pursed cracked lips.
The photo printed and floated to the floor with the other one before taking another photo.
Click. Flash.
“Show me your teeth.” Steve directed.
Hesitantly you have a wide toothy grin with a fake smile as large as you could make it till your cheeks hurt.
Click. Flash.
Steve’s other hand elongated to your jaw, his experienced fingers brushing across your chapped lips and against your front teeth. He wrapped his fingers around the corner of your mouth, fish hooking and forcing your mouth to raise even higher up your cheeks than you thought the muscle was capable of.
Click. Flash.
“Open,” he commanded and you hesitantly opened your mouth. “Wider…”
As if you were at the dentist you opened your mouth as wide as you could. “Wider…” you could only whimper in response knowing if you’d tried to speak it’d be entirely unintelligible. He sighed with disappointment before placing his hand on your bottom teeth and under your jaw before stretching it down. You cried out from the tight pain until he took the photo and released your chin.
Click. Flash.
Steve set the camera on the bed and slid the developing photos across the carpet with the toe of his shoe.
You clasped your mouth tightly shut, trying to regain feeling in your cheeks until Steve pushed you back laying on the bed.
Steve’s fingers were still wet with your spit as they traveled down your chest and stomach past your hips and to your inner thigh. His knuckles gently brushed over the warmth between your legs, teasingly moving back and forth across the skin as prominent goosebumps formed in their trail. “Hands above your head, spread your legs wider, feet on the edge of the bed. Display yourself to me.”
You tried to follow his fast orders, laying your raw and bound wrists above your head before spreading your legs wider and placing your feet on the edge, displaying you as if you were getting your yearly exam at the obgyn.
You hadn’t even noticed he had picked his camera back up until the flash beamed across your face sending your eyes wide open only to see him leaned lower to photograph your soon to be abused warmth. “Not to sound like such a plastic surgeon but I really want some before and after pictures of how wet and delicate your pretty cunt is before I stretch it out.”
You tilted your head to the side toward the door, imagining an impossible scenario of you simply getting up and walking out. Knowing the mystery code and locking him down here to die.
Steve gawked over you tied to the bed. His callused bare knuckles brushing over your smooth skin leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. He slowly slid his fingers to your hip bone. His touch became heavier as he moved closer and closer to your spread thighs.
“You know, the human body is quite a magical thing.” He quipped, caressing against your inner thigh, so close to where he was planning to be once he’d decide he’d had enough fun tormenting you. “Especially the female anatomy…it’s just so fascinating.”
You wanted to attempt to shut your legs but you knew better than to think you could stop him. Steve’s expert fingers were quick to tease your clit. “Your body creates human life, it’s what you’re destined to do.”
You jolted as his fingers orchestrated your body perfectly. Between the pain on your knees and the terror of the man brought you, the arousal he was creating was the next most extreme thing your brain could move onto and betray you with. “You’re so tight, no matter how many times Ransom or I have fucked you. Well I don’t need to be told to know he’s not fucking you as much as he should. As much as I should be, instead of him.”
A small gasp left your lips as his three fingers slid between your lips one by one and were fast to enter you. “And your beautiful body creates a human being, and grows itself for it, because you’re made to do it. And by the Grace of God you eventually push that little baby from your womb and become its mother.”
Steve’s touch was quick to stroke the textured spot deep inside that made your eyes water and abdomen tense before adding a fourth finger. “And then just a couple weeks later it’s back to its normal tight little size as if nothing happened, and then you’re ready to be bred again.”
“I know I’m a bad bad man,” Steve’s smirk was condescending as he watched you wrathing below his hold. “But no one blames God for the circle of life. I kill, yes, but I like to think I make room for new life. Smarter people, who wouldn’t get in the car with a complete stranger.”
Your nails dug into your palms as you tried to fight the impending orgasm he was bringing you to. “Although I had plans to kill you, fate decided otherwise. Because I’m going to breed your little cunt and you’re gonna fucking beg me to. You’re going to beg to be filled or else I won’t let you cum, and you’re so close aren’t you?”
Whimpering, you nodded, breathlessly trying to not succumb to him.
“Beg me.” His tone hardened. “Beg me to breed you. Beg me to fill you up over and over again.”
“B-Breed me,” you cried through grit teeth. “Please breed me, Steve.”
“Sweetheart you can do better than that.” He cooed as if he didn’t nearly have his fist inside of you fucking you with the intensity of a jackhammer.
“Please fill me.” The whine in your voice became more drawn out as you were on the brink of cumming for him. “Please breed me, daddy. Please cum in me, please daddy.”
“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He commanded, proud of your efforts. “I can feel how badly you need it, you’re so pent up baby. Make me proud, cum on my fingers. Cum for daddy.”
A strangled cry left your lips with an arch of your back as you came on his fast working fingers. The knowing that they were the same fingers that killed so many, that planned to kill you, that he’d saved lives with in his early days as a surgeon, wasn’t lost on you.
“Fuck, baby look at the mess you made for me.” You whimpered as he retreated his fingers to show you the glistening of your release covering his hand. “Clean it up for me, won’t you sweetheart?”
Steve forced his hand to your lips and you hesitantly licked your cum off his fingers. “You act all big and tough but at the end of the day you need to be taken care of, you need to be guided and told what to do.”
Hesitantly he pulled his fingers from your lips and the clicking of his belt becoming undone followed shortly but his eyes never left yours. “I have big plans for you today, Angel.”
A shiver coaxed over your skin like stepping out into the cold rain at his ominous second hand threats as he undressed himself for what felt like eternity.
The bed faintly creaked as he moved closer and in between your legs. “Missed this pussy.” He slid his cock between your folds and stroked over your still sensitive clit for a moment before slowly entering you. “Fuck, angel.”
He gave you no time to adjust to his intrusion before drawing his hips back to fuck you. A groan of pain left your chest of one of pleasure left his. “Your little cunt is meant to do this. Your only purpose in life is to milk cocks dry over and over again and fill your womb.” You dug your nails in the palm of your restrained hands above your head.
Steve maneuvered your legs over his shoulders, spreading yourself wider for him as his hands groped your body. “Love watching these tits bounce when I fuck you.”
You shut your eyes with a breathless moan as he pounded against your gspot. You wanted to keep them closed forever and never have to look at him but he’d never allow that.
His hands wrapping around your throat drew your eyes open like a splash of cold water. “You’re so weak beneath me, you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”
You whimpered in terror, your hands encasing his as they tightened around your neck. “You can only breathe if I let you, your life is dependent on me. Only I decide whether you live or die. I’m your fucking judge, jury, and executioner.”
You wreathed before him as your breathing became more hollow and the blood rushed to your ears. You wondered if Ransom was going to let him kill you down here. You wondered if that was the plan all along.
Steve’s thrusts haulted before letting go of your throat. “Actually, I want you to try to stop me.” He ordered as you gasped for air. “Show me how big and strong you are and I’ll let you go, hell, I’ll let you walk out that front door.”
You hesitantly shook your head, you knew better than to attempt to fall for the oblivious trap he was setting as a way to get off. “Cmon, fight me sweetheart. I want you to get away. Fucking do your worst.”
Your tied wrists left their frozen position from above your head and slammed down pathetically on his chest, barely even moving him as the energy was drained from you entirely. “Harder.” He ordered and you hit his sweat dampened chest with a loud thump. “Harder, cmon, you know you can do it.”
This time when you wailed your hands down on his chest you dug your brittle nails across his chest, a hiss leaving his lips.
Steve quickly consumed your hands and returned them back above your head on the bed. “Mmm, there’s that fight I love so much.” He smiled while beads of blood formed in the path your nails left.
“Fuck,” you gasped as he began thrusting back into you, the strong force jolting the headboard against the wall.
“You know what, angel? You’re just as sick and twisted as I am.” He slid his hand between the two of you and began to strum over your clit. “You’re so fucked in the head, you poor little thing. You got that evil inside you, just waiting to come out. That’s why you’re so god damn perfect for me.”
“No,” you shook your head both in a plea and rejection. “Not like you.”
“Aw, yes you are.” He taunted. “Ransom could never handle you, he’s not like us. You need someone as fucked up, you need me, I’m your perfect match.”
Your head flipped side to side as you tried to fight the impending orgasm building inside you.
“You’re a little killer, just like me. You just haven’t had the chance yet. I can’t wait for you to feel that fucking rush, the way it’ll make your cunt throb. And I’ll fuck the daylights out of you, so proud of you, my little killer.”
“No,” you pled as your knees grew weak and your head threw back. “S-Stop…”
“Gonna breed your crazy cunt.” Steve smiled, you could feel him teetering on release himself. “Gonna fill you with babies who will probably be just as fucking crazy. It’s your destiny to carry my offspring, do you understand?” His other hand wrapped back around your throat. “Say it and you can cum.”
“My destiny…” you felt an electric current begin to short circuit inside of you. “For you to breed me, you evil bastard.”
“Such a good girl for me,” Steve’s hand squeezed tighter. “Cum for me little killer, show me your worst.”
A strangle scream left your throat as you came below him, a ringing filling your ears as his own orgasm followed shortly behind with a series of grunting curses punctuating his release before letting go of your neck.
Your vision blurred with a pounding in your ears as you felt Steve remove himself for you. “So perfect for me, Angel. I can’t wait till I get to take out your birth control, I’m going to make sure I impregnate you before Ransom gets the chance.”
You grimaced at the thought of carrying his child as he cleaned himself off with the balled up tangled sheets at the edge of your bed not bothering to help you before leaving into the other room.
Curling in on yourself you stayed frozen in the bed; sore, disgusted, ashamed. As gleeful you were to see another human you didn’t wish for this. You didn’t wish for any of this.
Steve was right; he was the devil.
You can’t recall a time in your life with faith on your side. Sometimes you wish you had that blind faith that created a safe haven for what’s in the great beyond, but it was hard to worship a God who would do something like this to you; to anyone. But if there was one thing you learned in your life it was that Steve was truly the devil, an indestructible evil that can’t be stopped at the hands of the mortal.
You listen to his scurry about in the other room but couldn’t see through the door he left half open, as if you were a child he just put to bed. Your eyes were heavy as they searched the room but not bothering to move your head, you needed something heavy and mobile. You contemplated killing Steve, coming up behind him bashing him over the head, doing the world a favor and bringing down a man who’s atrocities had yet to be stopped. If you missed he’d probably kill you first but either way you’d get what you wanted. But you’d be the killer he saw in you.
//
You didn’t know you fell asleep until a soft caress brushed against your face till your eyes grew strong enough to open. Ransom’s brow was furrowed as he looked at you as if you’d been lost for days. “Hey, angel.” His voice was soft as you leaned further towards his touch.
“Don’t go,” you muttered, your throat hoarse from abuse.
“Not leaving you ever again,” he nodded. “You learned your lesson.”
“I’m sorry,” you cried into his affection, just happy to see another living person who wasn’t Steve.
In reality you weren’t sorry for trying to escape, you were sorry you gave up so easily when freedom was at your fingertips. You were sorry for not being stronger. You were sorry you couldn’t beat them, kill them, or stop them like you had promised.
“Aw, now don’t tell me you’re going soft on her already.” Steve scoffed from the door frame, shirtless with his slacks still unzipped and belt undone, his chest with the faint scratch marks that faintly drew blood exposed. “I just have one more thing in store for you.” He turned back around and returned to his bag of horrors you could only faintly see through the cracked door.
“Steve, I don’t think anything else necessary.” Ransom called out, one hand still holding your face as you refused to let him go. Hands that were too soft and never did a day of hard work in his life.
“It’s a treat, she behaved so well.” He came back in with a small food box, the kind you’d see in bakeries to show off a beautiful cake with thick icing that melted on your tongue. “Sit up.” Steve commanded with a firmness in his voice that he hadn’t used for Ransom. Ransom let go of your cheek and stepped aside, rotating around the room to stand at the door while Steve took up his spot at your bedside.
Holding the sheet to your chest you sat up in the bed, feeling exposed despite being in the room with the two men who had torn you apart time and time again.
Stabbing the fork into the mystery in the food box he displayed a cut of seared meat that resembled an expensive steak. “Open your mouth.” He grinned.
“I want you to taste what could’ve happened to you.”
Your stomach twisted as you cupped a hand over your mouth, in both terror and protection. “That’s not-“
“Say ahh,” he cooed as he tossed the box on your bedside table, the fork gripped tightly in his fist.
“That’s not necessary-“ Ransom chimed in.
“Shut the fuck up!” Steve yelled, the vein in his forehead protruding with anger, not bothering to look back at him only just peering into your soul like he was ready to watch it crack. “Open your fucking mouth, before I break your jaw sweetheart.”
You shook your head, frozen in time the way you remember seeing Finn. “I saved this slab special for you.” With his free hand he latched around your wrist yanking it from your mouth with the strength similar to a superhuman. “Remember your friend? Sarah?”
“Stop!” You screamed trying to pry yourself free. Steve placed the handle of the silverware between his teeth before pushing you flat, and straddled over you again, his knees weighing against your arms restraining them. You wrestled below him, your mouth drawn together so tight you thought your teeth were going to puncture through the skin.
With his hands free as his knees kept you in place, he pinched your nose shut as you violently tossed and turned your head back and forth. “The only way you’re going to breathe is by opening that bitch mouth of yours.”
Your lungs burned out quickly, the meat nearly pressed to your mouth, waiting to poison you with the meal he had prepared for you with great detail.
Oxygen depravity made your ears pop and vision grow blurry as you felt your heart thump with every beat like a clap of thunder in the woods.
You tried to look for Ransom through the tangling of your limbs, silently screaming for help. It was like you couldn’t hear anything other than sharp ringing like a nail on a chalkboard, you watched his lips move, but it felt like it was all in slow motion but you knew it was happening at super speed.
Ransom latched onto Steve’s shoulder, throwing him to the floor like a rag doll and the breath you finally took was deep as if you’d never get a chance to breathe air again. Your arms were already casting a dark bruising where he knelt on them to hold you down.
“Drysdale!” Steve screamed as if his voice was a message from the Gods.
Your lungs burned as you tried to take in oxygen, each raspy attempt punctuated with a coughing fit. But nothing silenced a room more than seeing Ransom reach to his back and pull a gun that was hidden on waistband.
“Stay. The fuck. Down.” Ransom’s body drew stiffer than you had seen, a wave washed over him and created a new person, one you had yet to meet.
“You’d never do it,” Steve laughed, slowly hoisting himself up. “You’re a fucking pussy, that’s nothing more than a play pretend toy to you. Pansy ass mommas boy.”
The thick sound of a gunshot echoed through the chamber of the basement like a music hall. You clutched your hands over your ears with the drop of your jaw.
“Get. Out. Now. Consider this your only warning.” Ransom commanded through grit teeth standing above Steve who had curled in on himself at the bullet that came flying past his head. “Unless you want the next bullet to not be a little too much on the left, you need to get out and never fucking come back.”
Despite having just been shot at, Steve pretended to be calm, as if he wasn’t shaking and his ears weren’t ringing like the rest of yours. “Consider me gone,” he raised his hands in surrender he didn’t mean, grabbing the box from the night stand. “Just trying to make sure my girl gets some good meat in her somehow.”
Steve looked down to you quaking in the bed, the sheet readjusted glued to your chest. His expression was similar to one of a coyote chasing a rabbit through the dark. Like you were his prey. His hollow eyes never left yours as he took a bite of the steak, juices of marinade rolling down his wrist.
No snarky come back was needed when he watched over you and ate the human being who you barely knew and yet became so attached to. You knew she had died long ago, it was naive to think otherwise, but now you knew for certain that Sarah was dead. You never knew what Sarah looked like, you never would, but you knew what was left of her body looked like. Steve called her a slab of meat, because that was all that was left. Her life disintegrating like oil on a hot pan.
“I’ll see ya’ angel,” he nodded before being led out of the room at Ransom’s gun point. “And Drysdale, I expect your balance to be paid on her by tomorrow evening or else I’ll come back here and make you watch me kill her and fucking eat her.”
You could feel your skin burn all at once like a heat wave as the procession of beeps and doors slamming at Steve’s exit but it was nothing but TV static. In the corner of your eye you spotted the stray fork with a chunk of your dead mystery friend and you were quick to keel over and reenact The Exorcist.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ransom returned to the room, tucking his gun in his waistband like a wannabe cowboy who comes and saves the town from the big bad villain. “I didn’t know, God I didn’t know.”
In shock and anger you could only look at what just expelled from you on the once pristine sheets. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he wiped up your face. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Ransom lifted you gently like you were made of glass, and at that moment you were made of glass. Glass under tons and tons of heavy pressure on the brink of shattering.
The ringing from the gunfire never left your ears as you disassociated so deeply you had barely registered him carrying you to the bathroom and getting you in the bathtub. Your mind ran so fast that it felt like nothing at all. Like if you stick your hand in a rushing current of a creek you and feel it all flow with power, the bubbling of the fast pace where they meet. And yet if you pull your hand out your hand was just wet, as if you had stuck your hand in still water instead.
“She’s still on the floor.” Was the first thing you could say, you aren’t sure how much time had passed but the way the water was starting to cool it had likely been a bit. “The piece of her, it’s on the floor.” Your throat burned.
“I’ll take care of it,” he nodded, standing up from kneeling beside the tub. “Just stay here, I’ll take care of it.”
You wanted to say, where else would I go? But it felt too soon for sarcasm.
“Don’t throw her away down here.” You said before he stepped out. “Don’t throw it away in the trash down here, just…take it upstairs.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have done that down here.” He replied. And like the way water rushes through a river he was gone and you stayed like you were cemented to the tub.
A part of you was relieved to know Sarah was real. Hallucinations were expected when taken off your medicine, you just weren’t sure how soon they came. At least you know she was real, what her fate was, you’re not sure if that was better than never finding out. Her story would now only live through me, though my words, if I would ever actually get the chance to leave the basement, I won’t stop speaking of her, because I am what is left of her existence.
It was surreal knowing the only thing between you and Sarah was the fact Ransom heard you scream and you peaked his sick interest. If that hadn’t happened you’d be cut down bit by bit like an old car stripped for parts. A slab of meat.
They were no longer looking for you. To read the words aloud that you’ve just about been declared dead while you’re still alive made you feel like you were drowning and the lifeboat was too far away. I’m still here.
The police were so eager to give answers and to look like mighty fucking heroes that they just assumed it was you with so little evidence. Steve was right, he wasn’t the only sick and twisted person in the world, that I could’ve gotten in that guys car instead and ended up really dead in the woods. Now the closure to the family of whoever that really is will never be given because they will never know that you were alive this whole time.
She was just another girl who trusted the wrong man and paid her life for it. That could’ve been you, she could’ve been you, that there wasn’t just one monster in the world, that there was more alike in such close proximity. Will her killer ever be caught now? No one was looking for her so no one was looking for him.
You had only noticed that you’d been moved from the water as a soft towel had been wrapped around your shivering body and Ransom’s body heat had begun to bring you back to life. When you had snapped back into reality you found yourself lying curled up in Ransom’s rocking arms on the now stripped bed in just a towel.
You pushed against him and stood to your feet with no resistance. “You’re…a fucking monster.” You had begun to cry and yet you still hadn’t looked him in the face since Steve was here. “You knew what he was going to do.”
“I know,” he tried to stand, his words hollow. “I know I did and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Stay where you fucking are!” You yelled, gripping the towel to you. “You asked him to hurt me, you asked him to do this.”
“I didn’t ask him to do that.” he raised his hands in defeat, kneeling to the floor like he was being arrested. “I swear to God I didn’t ask him to do this, I didn’t call him.”
“You sat watching your fucking cameras while he tortured me, he made me read to him about how no one is looking for me.” You thought about kicking him in his stupid fucking face. “You sat in whatever dark fucking hole you go to when you watch your sick fucking cameras like I’m some god damn tv show.”
“I know, I know.” His voice was broken but it was hard for you to feel any sort of sorry for him. “I swear to God, I didn’t fucking call him, I didn’t fucking ask him to do this, I didn’t know about Sarah, I didn’t know about your friend.”
“So who fucking called him?” You scoffed. “He just get a hankering for torture and you let him come right down like he was going to the fucking circus or something?”
“Someone in my family must’ve called him.” Ransom shook his head. “Someone in my family must’ve called him and told him what happened, and that you needed to be punished because I couldn’t do it. I grew too soft, I just want you to be happy here.”
“Why would your grandfather call Steve if he’s been the one helping you pay to keep me alive? Did he just want first dibs on whatever piece he wanted to eat?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know if it was him or someone else, but I’m so sorry and I’ll make sure you never have to see him again.”
“Is it true, what he said?” You refused to look him in the eye still, only at your feet or at the spot in the wall you’ve stared at a thousand times when you couldn’t fall asleep. “There’s a balance on my head? That he can come take me whenever he wants?”
“I’d never let him do that.”
You laughed. “Oh yeah? And what would you do, Ransom? Would you wave your gun around and threaten him some more?”
“He’s never going to see you again.” Ransom had slowly begun to stand to his feet like the passionate feeling of his words was bringing him to life. “I’d burn this place to the ground and we’d leave in the middle of the night, go where not him, or anyone could find us.”
You could only laugh at his stupidity and broken promises, you were too exhausted to play into his delusions like you often do.
“Look at me,” Ransom demanded, grabbing you by the jaw to look him in his bloodshot eyes for the first time in what felt like years. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d burn down everything I own and never speak to my family again for you. I’d kill for you if you asked me to.”
“I have never felt this way about another human being before, fuck, I never thought this feeling was possible but it is. You own ever bit of me just as much as I own you and so help me god I will fucking kill that man, I should’ve fucking killed him for just for touching you but I do not want you to witness more violence and death than you have. I want you to live a happy, comfortable life, I want to take care of you, I want-no I need you to feel my devotion to you.”
You didn’t realize you were crying until his thumb caressed your weeping tear from under your eye. “Do you mean it?”
“I could die a happy man knowing I’ve been gifted you in my life. The feeling of you the taste of you the sound of your voice even when you’re yelling at me that you hate me. All of it, all of you, I know you more than you realize and you know more of me than I’ve ever known myself. As long as I am alive I’m devoted to you.”
He jumped in surprise at the feeling of you kissing him. He was hesitant, cautious, scared of scaring you off. “I don’t want to push you and make you feel like you need to do this, it’s been a long day we can wait.”
“I know,” you pulled away breathlessly. “I need to forget everything about him, I need to feel you, need you in me till you’re all I can think of.”
Ransom groaned against your lips before yanking you into his arms, you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist.
His touch was heavy like you had never felt it, like he needed you or else he was going to die. He turned you and laid you gently on the bed. You began to fiddle with his belt buckle and he pulled your wrist away. “No; I just want to take care of you right now.”
“Please Ransom,” you whined against his lips. “I don’t want this to feel like a favor, I want this to feel like I’m being with all of you.”
“If that’s what you want anything for you, angel.” His lips left yours and traveled down your jaw and your neck where you knew he loved to be the most. “I can feel your pulse on my tongue and it’s driving me fucking crazy.”
Shallow breaths and bucking hips filled the room. His strong hands groping every part of you like he was trying to read a love poem in braille. With shaking over stimulated hands you pulled off his clothes, his skin warm with desire. As he assisted your wishes and helped you undress him, his cock was already hard, a bead of cum leaking from his tip.
“Need you so fucking badly,” he whined into your neck as he slid his fingers back and forth over your fast growing arousal. With his hip he guided your legs apart so he could feel you.
“Ran,” you gasped as his fingers pushed deep into you, contracting around him.
“Need to make you cum first,” Ransom left your neck and pressed his raw lips back to yours. “Squeezing me so good sweetheart such a good girl for me.”
You dug your nails into his back as the thin chain of mother Mary that never left his neck brushed against yours. “Gonna let me take care of you, princess? Gonna make such a mess for me aren’t you? My fingers aren’t going to stop fucking you till she’s crying for me.”
“Yes, daddy.” You moaned, your enthusiasm driving his thrusting fingers to curl exactly where you needed them. “Fuck.”
“Oh is that is, angel?” You could feel his obnoxious grin against your face. “That right where you need me? Is that where my little girl needs her daddy to keep fucking?”
A hiccuped moan left your lips as your head drew back. You reached for his cock between the two of you, your hand stroking against his throbbing length. “Oh no no, none of that baby, I didn’t say you could do that.” With one hand he gathered your wrists and restrained them loosely above your head. “Don’t you dare think about moving those hands, I know you’re gonna be my good girl and keep ‘em’ to yourself till I’m finished with you.”
“I’m sorry,” you whined as the impending burning grew inside of you. “Please, please don’t stop. Need your fingers in me, mine can’t do it like yours.”
Ransom cooed with pretend sympathy. “You poor thing, can’t even fuck your self right, need daddy to come and do it for you?” A cry left your lips as his words had you feeling weak in the knees. “She knows she's mine, that pretty little pussy. And you’re squeezing me so god damn right you’re about to cum, I can feel it, isn’t that right? You’ gonna cum for me, gonna make me proud.”
“Please,” your words were practically unintelligible. “Gonna cum, daddy-fuck.”
“Atta girl, make me proud, cum for me.” His fingers fucked into you at a relentless speed until something snapped deep inside you and he curled into his chest and the embarrassing sound of the mess between your legs felt like it echoed off the walls.
“Look at that pretty fuckin’ mess you made for me.” Ransom kissed your jaw as you came down from your high, his hand now soaked with your release, tenderly stroked between your thighs. Your hips bucked in sensitivity as his fingers passed over your clit. “So proud of you, such a good girl for me. Do you think you can take me tonight, sweetheart? Do you wanna wait a bit? Todays been a stressful day for you-“
“Shut up and fuck me,” you cut him off kissing his lips. “Need to feel you, only you, please.” You yanked him by the neck to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. You were quick to roll and straddle him his lap. “Please, Ransom. I don’t want to feel…him ever again, just want you.”
The two of yous lips barely left each other, only briefly parted for lustful words and praises and needed rushed breaths. This didn’t feel like anything you had ever experienced, never with Ransom. It felt like you couldn’t stop kissing him if you tried, that there was a new fire burning inside you that was being pulled to him like a magnet.
“You wanna ride me, sweetheart? Wanna be a big girl for me and ride me?” He taunted with his hand stroking your waist, trying to restrain himself from taking over. “Show me how bad you need me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
With a whimpering nod, too brain dead to form any real words you aligned him with yourself.
“God fucking damn,” Ransom groaned out with a his as you slid down his length. “That’s it, pretty girl, nice and slow.”
He held you close to him sitting upright as you began to ride him. The heavy breathing and warm skin between the two of you was all you could feel. Ransom wouldn’t leave any part of you, wrapping his arms around you, trying to keep you as close as possible as if your separation would be his death sentence.
“Feels’ so good,” you whined, your hips now beginning to move.
“Atta girl,” he grunted, restraint prevalent on his face. “Missed feeling you like this, fuck.”
Ransom met your thrusts down with him, silently begging for more but letting you be in charge. You needed it as badly as he needed you. You could feel his misguided devotion coursing through him.
“Never letting go of you. You got that, sweetheart?” He moved his hand to caress your hair, holding his lips just barely to yours. You whimpered against his lips, his heavy breathing beating on you. “Need you to say it, angel. I’m never gonna let you get away, mine forever, I fucking need you always.
“Need…you…too.” You whispered your lips ghosting over each other as sweat formed against you but he wouldn’t dare seperate from you if he could be any closer against you he would be. “Always yours.”
“Good girl, that’s right.” He beat his hips up to yours, the tell signs of his orgasm approaching with the way his voice became wines and his lips faintly separate. “Can’t help it, need to fuck you hard, need to cum deep in you, so god damn close.”
Ransom slammed your hips to his, the maneuver against your clit sending you over. He fucked into you like his life depended on it as he railed you through your orgasm. You were grateful at least he knew to take control as your brain began to shut off.
“Cum for me,” he grunted. “I’m gonna fill you…fuck…gonna cum deep inside…”
As the mind numbing orgasm road itself out you could feel him cumming deep inside you.
The heavy breathing between the two of you ricochet off of each other as you could feel his heart race over his chest. “Never letting you go. I always need you. No one’s ever going to touch you again… I belong to you and you belong to me…”
You nodded breathlessly. “I know.”
///
The next morning felt like you were coming out of a deep hibernation. The sound of food being made in the other room and the smell gracing your senses with the fainted light from the other room peaking through the cracked bedroom door.
You wiped the dreaded sleep from your eyes as you rolled over to the side of the bed.
9:48
Your alarm clock had reappeared in the night. His olive branch of giving you back your sense of time.
A/n: this was dark im sorry I know not everyone has the stomach for it. I don’t know for sure how I want this to end so I’ve been hesitant to post if I change my mind on a detail I had already posted. When Fresh first came out I made a post breaking down the religious symbolism throughout the movie and although it’s not required to read for the story, the points I make do reflect in the writing. Kneeling on grains of rice is an old punishment tactic, from my understanding it’s primarily used in the south but I’m sure it’s used everywhere.
References: I mention previously that the timer he gives her and that trope in general is based off the (1965) Collector. Her reading how the search for her was called off was inspired by the true events of the men’s soccer team that got stranded in the Andes mountains and then resorted to cannibalism. Her in the closet is reference to Handmaids Tale, which is a writing style I really take after of the restrained and dark internal dialogue.
Shy!Yandere!Bucky who finally gets the courage to “rehome” you into the basement he worked so hard to prepare for you and when you wake up (after the initial freak out) you start freaking out again bc you realize he didn’t think to take your cat and you’re scared they’ll starve so he goes back for your cat and feels bad he missed that detail in the first place and brings them to the basement so you would be less angry in your “transitional period”.
and he also buys you two matching collars
—
Anyway should I write this out as a full length one shot👀 should the cat be alpine or just a random cat👀
TW: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink) dark!Ransom, kidnapping, stalking, claustrophobia, classism, a splash of fluff but don’t get used to it, mommy issues/daddy issues from both these bitches, discussion of: suicide, murder, assault, substance abuse, trafficking, cannibalism. If I’m missing any please let me know!
A/N: I know I haven’t posted in a long time I’ve just kinda had a hard time finding the will to live but my bad. I wrote this smut while listening to Sleep Token and it’s obvious lmao.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. By continuing reading you confirm you are 18+, I do not give permission to have any of my work reposted or translated on any other platform even if you give credit.
“Time to get up, I have plans for us today.”
8:02 am
Ransom woke you up earlier than usual with a mission on his mind. Your body felt more sluggish than normal from the ripple he tore in your sleep cycle. You looked over at him from the corner of your sunken eye with irritation at the disruption. Ransom dug through your closet of clothes you had yet to wear but sat in there collecting dust by his wardrobe wishes.
You grumbled, burying your head back into the pillow and ignoring the beaming light from the closet. You didn’t want to deal with any Ransom escapades this early in the morning, and whatever he had planned you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to be toyed with.
“I need you to shower, and have your hair and makeup done.” Ransom ordered like a pageant mom, tossing a black dress down on the bed. “We have plans today, and I need you to look your best.” His hands then rest on his hips.
An uneasy wave of nausea coursed through your veins. “What are we doing?”
“Get ready and you’ll find out.” He turned swiftly to walk out, peeling the corner of your warm comforter off with his exit.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You whimpered as your body curled in itself at the harsh brush of morning chill as he ripped the blanket from you. “I’m officially okay with trying to kill you now.”
“You gotta get out of bed to come kill me!”
///
You swiped the steam from the bathroom mirror with the back of your wrist.
A gentle tap on the bathroom door before it opened to see Ransom holding a little black velvet dress. He knocked with the illusion of privacy but there’s a reason these doors don’t lock.
“Got you a new dress.” He grinned holding the dress beside you. Without trying it on you could see it was a purposely tight dress with a high neckline. You grazed your hand over the smooth black velvet material.
“It’s pretty, thank you.” You nodded before resuming your regimen.
“I think you’d look good with your hair up today.” He acted like he was suggesting but you knew he was commanding. You nodded once again looking only at him through the mirror.
Ransom leaned against the bathroom counter beside you before whipping out his phone. You often wondered who he was texting. Maybe Steve, maybe another girl, and that thought filled you with flaming jealousy. If he was going to kidnap you he better be faithful.
“I want your makeup like this.” Ransom flashed his phone to you and you felt sick to your stomach seeing your own Instagram with photos of you at prom last year.
You were the designated makeup friend. Proms, birthdays, etc. your friends asked you to do their makeup and you took that responsibility religiously. You went stag with your friends and it was one of the best nights of your life, you felt like you fit in. Because you weren’t the weird girl with the dead brother. You were a girl in a pretty dress with friends who were just as bad dancers as you.
You couldn’t help but notice some of the comments below the post. A few from when you originally posted them, a few more recently.
Allybabee2: you’re not even gonna credit me for my photography skills?? I feel so betrayed rn
You replied: please forgive me bby
Allybabee2: fine, but just this once.
Virgo_Vinyl: OMG I love your dresses! I wish I would’ve gone but something came up last minute
You replied: I didn’t know you didn’t go! I figured you were there and I was just blind and didn’t see you haha
And then ones from over the last couple of months.
Sarahslife: we all miss you
Jjbawler: I promise we’re gonna find you
SoftballGabby: I pray for you every night, fly high angel
HairyStyles4eva: I know Finn is protecting you no matter what happened
Allybabee2: I wish I would’ve enjoyed this night more if I knew what was gonna happen. I wish I spent more time with you even tho we both worked all summer.
Ransom locked his phone before tossing it back in his pocket. “I’ll let you get ready, we gotta leave when you’re finished.” You could tell that he realized that your eyes wandered further than the reference photo and you got a taste of the outside world.
Your reflection stared back at you with yearning. When Ransom flashed you your own prom pictures from Instagram you realized how Belle must’ve felt in Beauty and the Beast whenever the Beast gave her the mirror to see her ill father.
Things like him having your social media, knowing your medical records, and knowing what you were supposed to be in college for all felt too personal. He owns you, he has you kept in a basement, but him knowing your username felt unnerving. Like he had merged into your life seamlessly, your old life, the real you, he had camouflaged himself to blend in. But it felt more like you knew him through a mutual acquaintance but that person was also you. It felt hopeful almost, like maybe someone would notice him looking at your stuff but you knew there was no way they could. It was a taste of hope that felt bittersweet on the tip of your tongue.
You ran the post over again and again in your head. The brief glance of comments you never thought you’d see when posting the photos taken with your friends.
You forced yourself to focus on your makeup instead of the invasive images in your head of the comment section.
‘Please come home’
‘We miss you’
‘Wherever you are may god protect you’
‘Fly high angel, you were too good for this world’
Too much time had passed and you were dead to them. But you were dead to yourself too.
People interacted with your posts and talked to you more once you were dead to the world than when you were alive.
A soft knock on the bathroom door drew you from the hypnotic staring contest you were having with yourself as you did your makeup. “Come in,” you called.
In the mirror’s reflection, you watched Ransom enter the bathroom and his blue eyes had met yours.
“You look…” he mumbled. “God, you look so good.”
A blush burned your cheeks and you hoped your makeup hid it. “Thank you.”
You felt like middle schoolers getting ready to go on their first chaperoned date. The two of you had become so tense and nervous. The proper way to explain it was having butterflies. But he’d taken you apart on every level physically and mentally. You had his cock in your mouth last night before fucking you till you saw all the stars in the galaxy but right now you felt like you were talking to your schoolyard crush.
He fiddled with something in his hands as he walked to you until you could feel his breath against your neck. “Got you something.”
He reached to the front of you and held a necklace to your chest. Your hair was styled up like he was requested but you still instinctively swept the purposely loose strands of hair up so he could latch it around your neck. A thin silver chain with a diamond pendant in the center. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” You smiled softly adjusting the necklace over the high neckline of your dress so it could be seen. No one had given you anything this expensive before. “Thank you.”
Ransom had an unfiltered grin on his face, genuine flattery at your praise. Ransom has always silently begged for your approval. You had never seen him look at you like that before. “Today's gonna be a really big day for us.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
An uneasiness boiled in your throat from the uncertainty again. You turned to face him, now leaning against the marble bathroom counter when you pressed a kiss to his lips and cupped his freshly shaven face before turning back around to clean your scattered makeup mess. “You look really good too.”
“Will I be coming back?” You masked the terror and sadness that would’ve normally raked your voice scared of the answer you were going to get. You saw him furrow his brow in confusion in the reflection of the mirror.
“What do you mean?”
“Should I bring my things with me or will I be coming back here? Like am I being switched off to another buyer?” You mumbled trying to fight the bile rising in your throat.
“I’m not getting rid of you.” Ransom caressed your jawline from behind you, forcing you to move your head to meet his eye through the mirror. “No one's gonna touch you, I’d kill a man who looked at you for too long.”
His baby blues shone with passion as he looked over you with desire. His cologne was stronger than usual and you forgot how much he was physically bigger than you until moments like these where he maneuvered you so quickly against his chest.
“That’s probably the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me.” You joked with a blush and a demeaning small laugh.
He briefly grinned before nuzzling the corner of your neck, his lips found their way just below your ear. “Don’t be nervous, baby.” He said like a mind reader already knowing how you were feeling.
But Ransom could read you better than anyone else. Emotional or physical. He knows that when you gripped the roots of his hair and your moans sound more like whimpers you’re about to cum and he knows how to move his lips and tongue to finally bring you over the edge.
He knows that when you’re having an emotional rollercoaster kind of day to keep his voice soft and let you pick the movie or TV show and what you want from the Chinese take-out place he goes to. Those are the kind of days you’re pretty sure that Ransom is actually an evil twin and that’s just his wholesome counterpart. Where he’d pretend to be a real boyfriend. But it often didn’t take long for him to snap out of it and become cold.
Ransom knew your thoughts like the back of his hand, even things you weren’t aware you were feeling until you sensed his body language adapt to yours. But maybe you just weren’t as good at hiding these kinds of things as you thought.
“Today is a good thing, I promise.” He whispered, his hands caressing your figure till he reached the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up enough to slide his hand between your legs. “You look so fuckin’ pretty it makes me feel insane.”
Your sweat-slicked palms grasped at the countertop as you felt yourself melt into his lustful kisses along your neck and his expert hands sliding below your underwear, quick to find your clit.
You whimpered, pressing your weight against him for support as he circled your clit with his thick ring-clad fingers. “That’s it, just stop worrying and let me do all the thinking for you baby doll.”
Restraint withheld his lips from marking you the way he loved to. Guess this wasn’t an outing where dark purple hickies are a part of the dress code.
You grabbed the countertop as a soft moan fled from your lips. “Ransom…”
“I know, baby. Daddy knows.” He kissed along your jawline as you laid your head back onto his shoulder. “Looking so pretty, my pretty girl. I can’t even keep my hands off you.”
You ground your hips humping desperately against his fingers that rubbed your clit. You didn’t care that you felt weak for giving in to him so easily. He felt too good to hate yourself for it.
“Gonna cum for me, aren’t you baby?” His speed grew as the pressure he was using got stronger. “God, you must’ve been so starved for me it barely took much for you to cum. You want Daddy to take care of you?”
“Yes please, Daddy.” You felt dizzy as you crept along the edge of your defeat.
You could feel him grin maniacally against your skin as he abandoned his handy work where you needed him most.
Before you could beg him to return his touching, his warm and slick fingers ripped your panties down your leg and preceded with the sound of his belt clicking as it became undone.
You left your position from against his chest to bend over the countertop until you were practically eye to eye with your reflection.
Ransom’s face was dripping with hunger as you watched him encapsulated with the sight of him gliding the tip of his hard cock against your lips. “Fuck baby, wish you could see just how wet you are.”
Before you could reply the feeling of him harshly entering you and immediately bottoming out. The abrupt stretch drew a pressured gasp from you as it knocked the wind from your chest.
Ransom repositioned the two of you, your hips now closer to meeting his and away from the edge of the bathroom counter while laying a hand on the small of your back guiding you to arch the front half of you off the marble. The position pressed your breast together with the placement of your arms you kept anchored to keep grounded so you wouldn’t immediately sink to the ground during the spontaneous and yet such starving fuck Ransom was about to do.
Ransom grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and gripped your hip with a bruising strength.
Lovingly you found yourself reaching to hold your hand over his on your shoulder.
Normally you’d be slightly flustered and embarrassed by the primal sound of how wet you were for him and how hard he was fucking you but right now you weren’t even noticing the sounds of your skin meeting.
“Squeezing me so tight, god I’m gonna cum so fucking deep in you.” His voice mimicked a deep growl with a darkened expression you met in the mirror. “You want that don’t you?” He mocked.
Incapable of words when being fucked like this you only nodded for him to see in the glass.
“You want me to shove my cock deep inside your needy cunt when I cum? You wanna feel me fucking give you every drop? And then I’m gonna finger fuck it deeper into you. I want to be able to smell you on my hand the rest of the day.”
“Jesus, fuck.” You cried as his taunting words made your knees want to give in.
“Not Jesus, but I am your God.” He hiked your leg over the counter to fuck you from a deeper angle. “Tell me I’m you need me. Tell me that you worship everything I am to you.”
“I worship you, Ransom.” You were so close you’d practically admit anything he asked.
“Rub your cunt.” He demanded, his hand left your shoulder and quickly fished his finger to the root of your hair along the back of your skull. He yanked your hair and you felt your neck go limp like picking a kitten up by their scruff. “Cum for me, slut.”
It barely took a caress against your throbbing clit before you came around him. Your knees would’ve given in and sent you straight to the ground if he hadn’t been holding your hips so tightly. “Daddy…”
“You look so desperate when you cum for me.” His voice faltered into choppy as you fed off your high with him still fucking you. “Beg me to cum inside you. Beg if you think you’re even worthy.”
“Daddy please fill me,” you cried, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I’ve been so good for you, please cum in me.”
“Fuck.” Ransom groaned demonically as he came inside you.
And he kept his promise of filling you and then fingering it deeper inside until you came once more on his ruthless fingers.
///
The heels he laid out for you weren’t high, just a little kitten heel, but considering you hadn’t exactly worn shoes in 4 months you might as well have been learning to walk for the first time. You’d worn only your sneakers the five times Ransom has now taken you outside. You knew the drill by now.
He slid a black long coat over your shoulders before you held your wrists out for him at the door in preparation as he pulled the neon yellow nylon rope from the pocket of his slacks.
You tried to hide your nervousness from him and you hate to say him fucking you in the bathroom really did do the trick.
You saw a brief moment after you had finished in the bathroom as he gently helped you clean that he contemplated if he should cancel the mystery plans or just keep fucking you in this dress for the rest of the day. You weren’t sure if you were lucky or unlucky by the decision to follow the original plan.
He then pulled the same maroon blindfold he used every time from the other pocket. You knew the procedure and turned away from him so he could wrap it around your eyes, this time not as tight as he normally did to keep from smearing the makeup you tried hard to keep on.
The six small beeps of the pin-safe locked door kept you in check of where he was and what step in the process of going outside you were on. After the door unlocked you felt him press his hand into the small of your back to guide you forward. You felt the draft flush as he shut the door behind you with the same six-digit number to lock it.
6 numbers to unlock
6 numbers to lock behind us
8 steps on the stairs
4-digit code to unlock to door at the top
4-digits to lock it behind us
26 Steps total through the house with an echoing click of your heel across the hardwood
At step 15 he guided you to turn to the right
The rest of your steps were straightforward
Stopping at the final step to the front door where you heard a normal bolt unlock. Ransom didn’t seem like he was overly concerned about his house being broken into in comparison to the security measures he took for you. He was more scared of what could get out than what could get in.
He guided you to step over the main threshold, the bitter cold wind beating against your cheeks but it felt nothing but refreshing. Like you could breathe better now that you weren’t underground.
Then the sound of keys as he locked the front door behind him and then he unwrapped the blind from you and untied your hands. Usually on your walks, he kept your hands bound but now it’d likely create unwanted attention if you were tied up in a dude’s car. You memorized the routine religiously because it was all you had.
You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the bright light that shone through the gloomy and rainy sky. You took a deep breath of fresh air as you stared up at the and it felt like you could breathe for the first time in years. You never realized how stuffy the basement was until you were outside.
“After you,”
///
The hour drive felt so fast when all you could do was look out the window at the world moving around you. You were just happy Ransom didn’t put you in the trunk. He didn’t take major highways, only less populated routes. You could tell he was scared you were gonna act up. And for a moment you did contemplate it. But you had passed no cop cars in the drive; if you were planning on escaping it had to be to a cop. If you flagged down a minivan it wouldn’t be hard for Ransom to overpower you and whatever soccer mom was driving.
He was smart with the drive and the route he took to stay away from the public, you at least gave him credit for that.
You didn’t pass very many road markings, at least none that were significant enough to know where you were or where you were even coming from.
“Where are we going?” You finally blurted looking over at him tense at the wheel.
“You’re gonna meet my family.”
A laugh bubbled from your throat at his remark. “There’s no way you’re taking me to meet your parents.”
His jaw grit tightly at you finding the situation laughable. “If you’re going to be my wife then you will eventually need to meet them. This was just convenient timing.”
Ransom’s original plans for you often slipped your mind. His delirious intentions of having a perfect wife and children. Your lips down turned in gross disdain.
“Don’t look too excited.” He scoffed looking over at you from over his sunglasses. “This is incredibly important, you can’t fuck this up for us.”
You nodded sheepishly and realism hit you that this was not a normal relationship. That he hadn’t woken you up with a new dress and jewelry to surprise you with an outing to meet his family for the first time.
He brought you above ground through 3 different security precautions, blindfolded, with your wrists tied together. He rerouted the destination to avoid exposure and opportunity. That there was a hairbrush with blonde strands intertwined in its bristles like a spiderweb. Ransom genuinely believed you were going to carry his children and be some housewife.
You dug your nails balled up in your palms as you felt your skin crawl. It was easy to see your situation with rose-tinted glasses but this outing was a cold bucket of water to the face.
The car turned from a tree-shaded back road into the center of a small town.
Then he passed by a laundromat, two salons, three fast food places, the basic run-of-the-mill small town square establishments. But this was the first time you were surrounded by other cars. This was your chance and you’d rather jump out of a moving car than be impregnated by Ransom.
Your eyes glanced back and forth between the side view mirror closest to your side and his rearview mirror while keeping your head from moving.
Ransom eased on his breaks as he came to a stop at a red light you saw him tense up and that’s when you saw it too. Two cars ahead and in the lane next to your door was a cop car.
Like a deer in headlights, you froze. Jesus fucking Christ this was it.
With your hand already in your lap, you clicked off the safety button of the seat belt as your hand snatched the metal door handle simultaneously
As quickly as you jiggled the handle you were immediately left with the realization as the door didn’t open - it was child-locked. Ransom pulled your arm roughly. As he wrapped his other hand around your hair he whipped your head down slamming it onto the center console.
You howled in pain at the feeling of pulling a muscle along your neck and the ringing of your ears as he smacked your head against the divider.
“You stupid, stupid girl.” He growled through clenched teeth, holding your head down and replacing his other hand on the steering wheel when you felt the car begin to move again. “We will be there in less than ten minutes and I don’t want to hear a fucking peep from you until then. And so help me god if you try that shit again I’ll press on this gas and drive into a tree and kill us both.”
Ransom held your head down from the rest of the car ride to the home and you felt so fucking dumb for your futile attempt.
You tried not to cry and ruin your makeup; it’d only make him more mad. All you could smell was the polished leather interior of the prestige car. The windshield wasn’t visible to your new line of sight so you could only make out what was going on by the way the car moved but you tried to keep track.
The car stopped for a minute, his blinker playing like a cicada in summer, and turned left. A few minutes later another stop, this time not a complete stop - he might’ve made a rolling stop past a stop sign.
Then a few minutes later he turned right and began to drive along gravel, the car gently jolting as you passed over each pebble and the car sounded like someone was shaking an empty box with only a handful of rocks inside.
Another stop then his window rolled down. Ransom hadn’t even spoken before a voice cut him off, “You’re fine to go in, Hugh.”
The screeching sound of an old gate being opened felt like nails on a chalkboard.
A gated private residence with a permanent guard on the outskirts of the property who likely worked day and night guarding the home like a medieval knight on the lookout as if the family were a gaggle of royalty.
Fucking rich people
The rattling of the car resumed for a minute until he pulled to a stop, pushing the gear shift to its parking.
When his arm finally let off of holding your head down you slowly sat back upright, rubbing along your neck that now felt tender like pins and needles.
Reaching behind the passenger seat Ransom pulled a purse into your lap. “Fix your makeup, now.”
Sheepishly you nodded as you unclamped the Louis Vuitton purse to begin to touch up the makeup he pre-packed for you as if he predicted tears on the car ride over.
If you hadn’t been so shaken up from the altercation you would’ve fawned over the expensive purse but right now he could’ve handed you your belongings in a brown paper bag and it wouldn’t change anything.
“Do you forget that I have that lovely microchip in your neck, sweetie?” His hand snaked along the curve of your spine until he brushed his haunting fingers over the microscopic incision at the base of your neck that you had grazed over so many times late at night always reminding yourself as long as that was still inside you’d never successfully get away.
“Ransom, I’m so-“
“Shut your fucking mouth, do you understand me?” He cut you off abruptly. “Do you truly think you’ll ever get away from me?”
His voice oozed genuine curiosity with little rhetorical undertones as he waited for a response. You slid the visor mirror back up as you shimmied your makeup back into the pricey bag.
“I don’t know what I was thinking…” you whimpered. “I’m sorry Ransom.”
“Oh trust me,” he aggressively opened his door and spread it wider with a kick of his shoes having no regard for the interior of the sports car. “You’re gonna regret it.”
One thing was for certain: you weren’t sorry for a fucking second.
Ransom circled to the other side of the car to open your child locked door. You must’ve hesitated for too long or maybe he felt like subtly roughhousing in retaliation when he yanked you from his car and shut the door forcefully behind you.
Before you could even fully gather yourself and your balance on the gravel entry Ransom yanked you again as he dragged you towards the home.
Your eyes ran over the outside of the mansion over and over again so rapidly it was like you were trying to memorize a cheat sheet for a test while your heart was beating at the same speed. Ransom’s hold on your bicep was astonishingly tight as he guided you through the walkway, barely able to keep up with his speedy footwork.
“Don’t even think about fucking this up,” Ransom growled in your ear. It was like the sweet Ransom you had earlier had wholly evaporated into thin air. If there was one thing you were thinking about now: it was fucking this up. The array of luxury cars lined down the driveway gave you more hope than you had felt since before you even left your home in August. Even more hope than seeing that cop car at the stop light earlier.
He disguised his aggression with loving holds as if we were being monitored even before we got into the estate. His hand found its way to the back of your neck, caressing under where your hair was pinned up, before digging into a pressure point at the base of your scruff. “Need I remind you that I can get your parents' address? Tit for tat: maybe after this, I should pay them a visit?”
And just like that every ounce of hope you had dissolved like sugar in water. “I won’t cause any problems, I promise.” You withheld your frustrated tears to avoid ruining your makeup once more, it was your mask and you had a part to play in that home. “Please Ransom, I’m sorry.”
“We’re in love and we’re very happy, got it?” He commanded as you stood on the doorstep ignoring your fruitless attempt at an apology. He moved his arm tightly around your waist. “You’re not going to make me look bad, so you will not speak unless spoken to. And if you try to pull that shit you just pulled in the car again there will be hell to pay.”
“Yes, Ransom.” You nodded feeling light the flicker of a candle had extinguished inside of you.
With the press of the vintage-looking doorbell, the sound of chiming echoed throughout the home. Why did he have to ring the doorbell if it was his family home? Had he been so estranged from them that a get-together had called for such formalities? But you could only chalk it up to rich people being fucking weird.
A crisp cool breeze whispered across your neck like the touch of a ghost’s warning as the front door opened. At first, you thought she had cartoonishly let out a sigh of relief but then you realized she was saying a name coldly. “Hugh,” She gave him a curt nod before widening the door to let him in.
Was his real name Hugh?
As you crossed the vintage threshold you felt like you had entered a new planet. Like you were on the battlegrounds, unprepared, with your gun left at home. You were vulnerable and exposed like a frayed wire.
Ransom’s cold hands dug into the collar of your jacket pulling it from your shoulders. His thumb brushed over the back of your neck so gently and yet so threateningly it could’ve been mistaken for comfort if he wasn’t reminding you that you were a microchipped dog.
He tangled your coat together with his and impatiently threw it at the woman who greeted the two of you. You wanted to scold him for treating his mother/aunt/whatever relation he had with her like that but you kept your mouth shut.
Fucking rich people
The interaction he had with her was so dry it was like he was paying a parking meter before guiding his hand across your lower back and forcing you to walk.
Gentle commotion came from all different directions and you couldn’t decide which one your brain could focus on first and you prayed not to stumble over in the heels yet he still forced you to lead. You were his shield, but from what?
“Ransom!” A cheery voice called from your left from a skinny lanky woman with short hair white from age glided in, her arms opening slightly before putting them at her sides again like she knew he wouldn’t hug her back if she tried. “And who’s this?” She said with a fake smile, trying to pretend like she wasn’t annoyed with your surprise presence.
“I’m-“
“She’s my girlfriend, mom.” Ransom interrupted.
You couldn’t help but blush at the title. The man keeps you in a basement and bought you but you felt like a schoolgirl at him calling you his girlfriend. Maybe you had just felt raw and vulnerable from the car altercation that you wanted to seek out comfort in him as if he hadn’t just threatened not only your life but your parents as well. That was normal for the two of you after a fight despite him leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable he was still your only source of reassurance and he fed off that fact.
“Oh, wow.” She muttered, shocked. “I didn’t know you were serious with someone. You’ve never brought a girl home, I didn’t even think you’d ever been in a relationship.”
“Well, she’s here. If you don’t like it we can go.” He sighed looking over at you in his peripheral vision either in a nature to show he was standing up for you or he was looking at you for support.
“No! Of course, she’s welcome to stay! I’m so excited about the two of you here. This is such a fantastic surprise.” She beamed with another fake grin that only older white ladies could do. She reached out and grabbed your hands holding them in her own. You jumped at her warm touch and realized no one had touched you in a nonmalicious manner for god knows how long. “I’m Linda, but you can call me mom.”
One thing for sure, you weren’t gonna fucking call her mom. And you knew she didn’t want you to either. Knowing Ransom and the masked attitude he’s had off and on this morning but it didn’t take a genius to know they had a relationship that was already on thin ice and she missed him whether or not that was reciprocated. It didn’t take much to connect those dots. You wish you could yell at him to appreciate still having a mother, but you realize you were mourning your parents even though they were still alive. But to them you were dead. You felt like an orphan because of what he’d done. And they surely felt like they’d lost another child to an unseen circumstance.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t bring any food.” You muttered, nervously breaking eye contact with her.
“What?” Linda furrowed her brow.
“I was raised not to come to someone’s family gathering without a homemade dish or something.” You stammered, anxiously tripping over your words. If your own mother or grandmother saw you come without a dessert they’d faint.
Ransom snickered at you under his breath. “We’re not that kind of family. They have servants hired to cook. You think anyone in my family would know how to cook?”
Linda’s face became as flushed as you were confused. Bringing a dish to any sort of gathering was almost absurd but in their lifestyle, the absurdly wealthy, she acted as if it was practically unheard of. Food not made with love was no food at all, your grandmother would say.
You briefly remembered one of your first interactions with Ransom. That although he didn’t eat humans his grandfather did and his family had. Were you a lamb brought to the slaughter?
“I hope you’re not vegan or gluten-free or whatever the new diet craze is.” She glanced back at you, disregarding Ransom’s petty remarks. “There’s not too many options for that for Thanksgiving anyway.”
“It’s Thanksgiving?” You blurted out before cringing on the inside from her puzzled expression. You’d been taken for almost five months and yet time had felt like a quick yet tedious blur.
“How did you not know it was Thanksgiving…”
“Where’s dad?” Ransom distracted her before she could come up with new questions. You felt stupid but it’s easy to lose track of time where you are but she’d have no clue.
“The men are all in the game room watching whatever football game is playing.” She waved off down a hallway. Everything that woman said made her sound annoyed and pissed as hell. “If you wanna come with me honey, the ladies are-“
“She’s staying with me.” Ransom interrupted. You felt your heart sink for a moment. He squeezed your hand for a beat before dragging you to leave the conversation without even a proper dismissal with an Irish goodbye.
You were trying your best to not trip over your own two feet as your eyes dragged along the tall ceilings and stained glass windows like you were in some haunted Victorian mansion you’d visit as a tourist attraction filled with fake loose floorboards and whiny vents to replicate a loud brushing in the wind to convince tourists that ghosts wandered the halls.
You vaguely recalled seeing Lizzy Borden’s house once in a documentary. Lizzy Borden was a girl in the Victorian era who allegedly killed her father and stepmother with an ax but was never convicted for it.
You tried to remember that old school yard rhyme people would sing when counting during jump rope. “Lizzie Borden took an ax, gave her father 40 whacks. When she saw what she’d done she gave her mother 41, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… ” and so on.
Kinda fucked up that that was a nursery rhyme.
Ransom guided you into a new room, the lights dimmed with a large television casting a blue-toned light on the fair wrinkled faces of the two middle-aged men that sat in the room focused on football each sitting in their own leather-bound lounger and a teenage boy captivated with his phone with an untouched billiard table standing by. They barely acknowledge Ransom’s arrival.
“Ahem,” Ransom cleared his throat finally gathering the attention of the men with their eyes glued to the TV but the teenager had only looked up for a moment and became uninterested, returning his undivided attention to his phone.
“Ransom!” A man with thinning hair that was more white than blonde stood at his feet. “And who’s this?” His speech slurred and you didn’t need to see the glass of brown liquid nearly empty sitting on a coaster beside him to know he was starting the party early.
“I’m-,” you began.
“She’s mine.” Ransom disrupted.
Ransom’s introduction of you was different with the men, one had to have been his father but none remotely resembled him, unlike his mother to whom he was uncanny beside. He was an animal that was baring his teeth and puffing his chest to show possession of you amongst the men—ownership of the prey.
“Pretty one,” the other man who’d been seated spoke up. “Where’d you find her?”
You glanced at Ransom, you weren’t prepared for the peanut gallery to investigate you when being directed to meet Ransom’s father.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Ransom ignored his interrogation, frantically searching the room with his eyes.
“Harlan is in his study,” the man sat back down with a humph under his breath.
Ransom groaned under his breath like a toddler on the verge of a meltdown. “Can you watch her for a moment?”
You snapped your head to him, you couldn’t decide if you were more upset that he’d just throw you to the wolves or the fact he asked them to babysit you as if you weren’t a full-grown adult standing amongst them.
“He doesn’t allow strangers in his office.” Ransom shrugged looking at your angered pout. “Behave.” You pointed a stern finger in your face with a warning. You contemplated biting his finger off.
“I’m not a fucking dog.” You whispered under your breath. He attempted to hide his frustrated expression with restraint as he came to the same realization you had; that he couldn’t punish you or retaliate in front of them. You may pay for the comments with a bruised ass later tonight but it’d be worth it to watch him do a terrible job of masking his fury.
“Excuse her manners, she’s still learning how to act like a lady.” He chuckled condescendingly, looking at his father, making you the joke between the stupidly wealthy men.
You stayed with a scowl on your face as he didn’t even utter a word before leaving the room abandoning you within the lion's den.
“You can relax around us, sweetheart. No need to be so tense.” His father encouraged you with a pat on his thigh. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.”
Thankfully you were more talented at hiding your disdain than Ransom as you hesitantly stepped to him and sat at the edge of his knee. He quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you all the way in his lap, forcing you against his chest and all you could smell was the faint reminisce of aftershave and expensive brandy. You looked over with a deep blush at the other man in the room only to see him eying you like meat, the teenager still so occupied with his phone that you thought for a second he might’ve been deaf if he hadn’t even since acknowledged the new arrivals.
“So tell us about yourself, what do you do for work?” He encouraged engagement but his eyes cast at the shape of your breast already told you he wasn’t interested in your life or career.
Well, I’m not from here, (wherever here is, likely still in the same region as where you did live from what you could tell by the weather and passing foliage) I don’t get out much, I had to leave your college and family but not by choice, and oh yeah your son bought me from a cannibal and keeps me in a fucking basement.
“I don’t work right now,” is what you actually replied.
“Ah, I see.” He clicked his tongue with a sigh glancing down at your thighs. “I can’t say I’m surprised, I know how my son is.”
You tightly furrowed your brows. “And what do you mean by that?”
The other older man with a cane resting against the arm of his seat chuckled as if you said something bogus.
“I just mean, I know my son has certain tastes and appetites.” His father’s words felt more grimy than the way it made you feel as he rested his hand against your thigh. At least Ransom didn’t have an appetite for human meat. “There’s a reason he’s never had a real girlfriend, a woman of good stature wouldn’t do the things he wants, even with the resources and comfortability he has.”
You didn’t exactly have a choice to deny Ransom.
“Let’s not beat around the bush,” the man spoke up confidentially as he leaned in towards you as if he wasn’t on the other side of the lounge. “How much does he pay you?”
You audibly laughed, indeed sounding like you were mocking them. “Pay me? Ransom doesn’t pay me.”
“Ah,” his father retorted. “Excuse my brother-in-law, he’s not trying to be rude. It’s just that you’re a very very pretty girl and don’t get me wrong I love my son, but to see someone tolerate him enough at the level of seriousness you allegedly are, it just seems a bit odd.”
“Are you even together? Or did he pay you to come with him today?” Who you now knew as Ransom’s uncle tossed aside what you said. He seemed like he just wanted to know the drama if not for entertainment than to throw in Ransom’s face “His grandfather is cutting him off unless he can show he’s ready to be a man and settle down. Although the publishing company would be in the trash without me, Harlen wants Ransom to own our little empire one day, but I doubt he’ll step up to the plate.”
You hadn’t heard any of this but Ransom wasn’t much of an open book. You really didn’t know much about Ransom. You didn’t know his favorite movie or his favorite flavor of gum, or if he likes olives. You didn’t know his birthday or his favorite holiday. You had only learned today that Ransom was only a nickname, which makes more sense than not. To be fair Hugh isn’t a very sexy name unless Hefner follows it.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my son.” His father repeated, lolling his head towards you. “But, he’s not notorious for commitment. And if he expects to ever see a penny of Harlen’s money, Harlen made it clear that he’d need to settle down for that.”
You had so many fucking questions but the only thing you could think of was how boney this old man’s knee was and if you should try to again to do something over the fact you were above ground for the first time in months and how if you were planning on getting out you needed to act while you were here. But a piece of you didn’t want to; you didn’t have it in you. It’s easier to succumb. Ransom was so hurt by your earlier attempt it created guilt you shouldn’t have felt for him. Even by the brief interaction you’ve had with his relatives, you knew he was begging to impress them.
Distracted, you had barely noticed the conversation had moved on until you felt his father’s hand creep up your thigh that he’d been eyeing since you came in. “You being for sale isn’t a bad thing. I understand, in this family, we’ve all done things we aren’t proud of for money.” His hand slid along the hem of your dress trying to push it up your thighs before you shoved yourself off him and stood on your trembling feet.
“You’re married! I’m dating your son!” You gasped. “I’m not a hooker and even if I was, Ransom takes care of me and treats me better than men like you could. What kind of fucking Flowers In The Attic shit is this?” You smoothed your hands over the velvet of your dress.
“Ransom wasn’t joking when he said you had poor manners. I know he isn’t very fond of women who talk like sailors.” His father scoffed. “I can tell poor upbringing when I see it, but it’s not your fault you were born into it. You’ll warm up and learn to behave like you come from money eventually.”
You were truly speechless to its definition as you decided to jump ship and leave and just take the punishment for it when Ransom commanded you to stay put while he went to go talk to his grandfather.
Fucking rich people
You don’t know why you defended Ransom in there, it began as standing up for yourself but merged with it. You should’ve said something, anything, even if you knew it was a test.
Help, call the police, your son keeps me locked in his basement
Your shoes clacked loudly against the wood floors, the sound echoing off the walls absent of life or evidence of a family. No cheesy family photos, Christmas cards, or pictures from a vacation, it was bare, reminding you even more of some home from a scary movie. This whole family screamed Stepford Wives and Get Out.
Lizzie Borden took an axe gave her father forty hacks, when she saw what she’d done she gave her mother forty-one, two, three, four- fuck that’s gonna be stuck in your head the rest of the day.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Jesus Christ, you nearly gave me a damn heart attack.” You jumped as you froze in a juncture of a hallway when Ransom snuck up on you from a hall you hadn’t bothered to venture toward. “Your dad’s a creep.”
Jealousy took the reigns on his face, and his anger and accusations for you quickly died on his tongue. “What did he do?”
“Made me sit in his lap and started to lift my dress.” You physically recoiled. “They thought you were paying me, something like you have peculiar tastes and then offered to take a test ride himself.”
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head with embarrassment. “I didn’t bring you here to embarrass you.”
You could’ve been told that an alien from outer space came down and body snatched him and you wouldn’t doubt it. As if he hadn’t threatened to kill you both just an hour ago.
“Why did you bring me here?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
Ransom glanced over your shoulder and then once more behind his own. “I need to prove I’m mature enough to carry on with the family business and showing up here with someone who I’m in a serious relationship with is an important piece of that.”
“What fucking family business?” You snapped at this entire family’s cryptic language.
“Blood Like Wine Publishing,” he rolled his eyes, aggravated having to explain his family’s lore. “My grandfather is Harlan Thrombey, the writer.”
Everything clicked into place all at once.
You felt disgust coat your stomach as you recalled the first time you’d had a conversation with Ransom the first day he took you home. “My grandfather indulges every time he writes a new novel. To absorb their ideas and life experiences, he says. I’m sure my whole family’s tried it at some point as well but it’s not my favorite.”
You were in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre but if the inbred redneck killer family was old money and pious instead.
Finn had to read one of his books for a school report and therefore explained the entire plot to you as if you were in the same class doing the same project. “This book fucking sucks, I swear to god I’m gonna fall asleep reading this shit. I’m not joking, I'd rather read Gone With The Wind again, that’s how shitty this is.”
Finn didn’t have the patience for classics that nowadays read like a refrigerator manual. Finn also didn’t like being told what to do; what movies to watch, what books to read, or what bands to listen to. He was such an angsty little shithead sometimes, you wonder if he would’ve still been just as much of a shithead now as an adult.
“Is that why you…why we’re together?” There was no polite way to ask hey did you kidnap me so your family would think you have your shit together?
“Not entirely. An added bonus to why us dating was a good idea.” He stuck his hands nervously in his pockets. Around his family, he resembled a nervous rescue dog, but you only knew him as the aggressive guard dog.
“Well, are they buying it at least?” You asked.
“I think so.”
Although you were alone you couldn’t be too careful and the two of you had both come to the silent agreement of phrases.
Started dating = abducting you
“Glad to know us dating hasn’t been a complete waste of time.” You rolled your eyes, feeling slightly used and mad. “I’m sorry for what happened in the car.”
“Did I hurt you?” He asked, gently tilting your head to examine your sore neck. “I didn’t mean to hit your head that hard.”
“I’ll be okay,” you muttered lifelessly as he returned your head to its upright position. “I don’t know why I did it…I just…”
“I know,” he interrupted. “I hope you know I will never try to…break up with you.” Aka kill you the way he promised
“Regardless, nothing will make me regret how we started dating. I don’t regret anything I’ve done.” Ransom’s expression was so stoic it was hard not to swoon over the Hallmark confession. His face had come so close to yours you hadn’t even noticed until you could feel his cool breath across your cheeks as you looked up at him with the doe eyes he was weak for. Ransom had begun to duck his head down to kiss you whenever you began to panic.
“My feet really hurt.” You whispered, thinking of anything to say to avoid kissing him in such a romantic moment scared of the intimacy he was seeking. Maybe he was just trying to sell this union to his family, maybe he adored you the way he said he did. Either way, you didn’t want him to kiss you; not here, not now.
Ransom laughed under his breath. “What?”
“I haven’t worn shoes for this long in a few months.” You confessed. “I’m usually okay walking in heels but my feet really hurt and your family is also really weird and everyone still has their shoes on even though they’re in the house.”
He chortled once more before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just when I think I know you, you go and surprise me some more.”
“Oh, look at you two love birds!” A shrill voice interrupted the poorly timed intimate moment the two of you shared. “I really thought Linda was kidding when she said Ransom brought a girl home.”
By the way, you could see him physically cringe in the corner of your eye you knew this was one of the relatives in every family that no one fucking likes. In your family, it’s your uncle Gary.
“I’m Ransom’s aunt, Joni. But sweetheart I can already tell we’re gonna be like sisters.” You already despised her. The woman who resembled a bird with stiff botox swooped in to hug you and you recoiled in her embrace. As cold as this family was the last thing you’d be expecting from any of them would be affection with a stranger. “You know, I really had my money on him being gay, but-“
“If we’re finished with the questioning portion of your interrogation, why did you come here to interrupt our own private conversation?” Ransom coldly cut the woman off. Annoying or not, you still didn’t care for how he treated his family.
It was like you could watch her physically bite her tongue. “They’re setting up to eat; I was told to gather everyone in the dining room.”
Ransom placed his hand on your lower back with a slight push forward directing you where to go. “Then let’s eat.”
///
You anxiously sat beside Ransom on your right at the dining table and beside his aunt Joni who decided you were gonna be like sisters even though she’s probably the same age as your mom to your left, and the empty chair at the head of the table on Ransom’s right.
The meals had already been plated and set, but they were waiting for one more guest. They were waiting for his grandfather to come join them which was something he wasn’t fond of doing.
Fuck this weird ass family
When the stiff sound of patterned walking joined the room as his grandfather strolled in the family members all stood from their seats except you who didn’t get the memo.
They were all so money hungry they treated him like the president and it was embarrassing.
As he sat in his chair at the head of the table the rest of them sat and you felt frozen like an armadillo crossing the road.
“We may eat,” Harlan lamented before waving out his cloth napkin to place in his lap.
You were now convinced this was a cult
You stared somewhat nervously at the plate in front of you. Bland colored food with sides you didn’t recognize stared right back at you.
“Which fork should I use to fucking kill myself.” You whispered to Ransom and you could hear him restrain a laugh as the loudest sound in the room was the scrapping of expensive silverware against the fine China.
“Have I met her before or is the dementia that runs in my father’s side of the family already beginning to take me with it?” His grandfather didn’t even have to look up at you to know you didn't belong. From what you could tell everyone was immediate family and a few spouses that had been a member of the family for decades. You were an outsider but at least it was for your unfamiliar reputation rather than your lack of debutant-style edicate training.
“This is my girlfriend I was telling you about when I visited you in your office.” Ransom spoke for you and you were glad because you couldn’t comprehend anything other than remembering to breathe right now. You were the main act of the evening to convince his family of whatever agenda Ransom had in mind. Your mouth felt parched of all moisture and you pressed the crystal glass of sparkling water to your lips. You should’ve added vodka while you had the chance.
Harlan glanced at you briefly before resuming his meal as if he were silently grading you. “Yes, very pretty. She’ll make beautiful kids I am sure.”
You choked on your water at the nonchalant mention of you being responsible for creating small duplicates of you and Ransom. With your luck, they’d get the batshit crazy gene from his side of the family. “That wouldn’t happen for quite some time, if ever.” You caught your breath and cleared your throat. You watched Ransom grip the handle of his fork tighter and realized you should’ve fed into the illusion of Ransom leaving his playboy ways behind him.
“You are quite young,” he murmured. “How old are you?”
“She’s 18-“
“I’m 19-“
Ransom lashed his head at you with a confused expression.
“My birthday was in October, but I guess I just forgot about it.” You cringed at your sheepish answer. Realistically you just lost all sense of time.
“That’s what I meant,” Ransom quickly covered his ass. If there was one thing he was a professional at, it was lying through his teeth.
“I’m sure it was.” Harlan’s voice lacked expression and he spoke like a Victorian ghost (he might’ve been old enough to be one).
You picked around your meal trying to rearrange the food to look more eaten than it actually was. For having professional chefs on staff you think they’d know how to fucking cook.
“So, how did the two of you meet?” His father quipped from further down the table, with a shit-eating grin knowing he was putting the two of you on the spot. He was mad you embarrassed him and he planned on proving Ransom was still a player.
“Well, it’s just so romantic you see.” You had more time now to bullshit your answer. “I had just stopped by this quaint little bar on my way out of town to visit some friends before I left. Of course, I wasn’t drinking, but I wanted to at least make an appearance to be polite of course.” Actually, you had been two cocktails deep when Steve came up to you. “And this strange handsome man came up to me and started chatting me up.”
“But he didn’t interest me very much, well that was until his friend showed up.” You had the family hooked on your every word and they must’ve been starved for entertainment. “And I saw Ransom across that bar and he swears it was love at first sight, but of course I was a bit oblivious to him because well, look at him he is just so handsome there’s no way a man like that would even look at little ole me.” You placed your hand atop his and looked up at him with fake swooning eyes but you couldn’t tell if the smile on his face was genuine or not.
“But Ransom being the stubborn man he is, wouldn’t give up, and eventually as my friends and I were about to all head out he came up to me and he just kissed me.” You beamed with a convincing lie. “And I realized that I was going to love this perfect man.” You placed a gentle kiss on his blushing cheeks as the woman awed. Literally, why the fuck were you doing this at this point it was word vomit and you couldn’t stop if you tried.
“Ransom has friends?” His uncle spoke. “Didn’t think he was capable of keeping anyone around unless there was some form of compensation.”
“Steve,” you grinned with insincerity secretly wanting to scream. The fake admiration took enough out of you as is.
A low chuckle headed from his Grandfather. “Steve? The doctor?”
Ransom’s grip on the fork had tightened again. “Yes.”
Fuck why did you say, Steve?
“I’m sure he was in that bar for other reasons.” His grandfather looked at him with an all-knowing glare. “I imagine her luck would’ve run out if she had decided to court with him instead. Tell me, is he still into culinary? He always had the most profound pallet.”
“Steve,” Joni beside you gasped as she began to connect the dots of the identity of the mystery friend. “I thought Steve was married? That is of course unless he’s on the market again then I might just throw my hat in the ring. I’m sure I can just get his number from you Ransom before you leave.”
“Don’t,” your facade had faded at the thought, although you couldn’t stand the woman from what little interaction you had you wouldn’t set up another woman to be taken and murdered. You had physically revolted in disgust at the thought.
They all stared at you like you had a target on your head.
“Steve is married,” you nodded your head. “Unfaithful men, like Steve, don't deserve good things in life. They’re monsters, they deserve death.“
“Now I’ll drink to that!” His grandfather chuckled with the faint raise of his glass and you could sense the discomfort that had grown in the room to an unbearable weight as he glanced slyly down the table to Ransom’s father and you could tell there was some underlying lore there.
Everyone had already picked around their food and it was easy for you to become the center of unwanted attention because your big mouth didn’t have a good enough filter. One step forward, two steps back.
“I’m gonna go get a drink,” you wiped the corners of your mouth with manners before standing from the table. “Or a knife.” You grunted under your breath much louder than you intended to before storming off into a slide swinging door into the kitchen.
The two remaining staff members all seemed startled by your presence as they cleaned up from the meal. One wiping down countertops, the other loading leftovers into fancy glass Tupperware and into the stupidly large fridge. You just needed a distraction to keep from crying. You sniffled as you strode to the kitchen sink and grabbed the sponge from to holder and turned the water on.
“Ma’am that’s not necessary,” one had spoken up to you.
“God, they must be paying you guys out of the ass to put up with their shit.” You shook your head and laughter momentarily erupted from them because that was the last thing they thought you would say if you were one of them.
“Not enough, I’ll tell you that much.” She chuckled before sliding a fresh cloth beside the sink for you to place the clean dishes off to.
“Fucking rich people.” You rolled your eyes. “There should be an eighth layer of hell specifically meant for people who make so much money they practically wipe their ass with it.”
The woman who was loading the fridge spoke in a thick Russian dialect. “We only get brought on for special gatherings and even then I have to keep from ripping my hair out. I have no idea how the hell Fran works here full-time.”
The women made you feel less alone. Although you were a small fish in a big pond out there at least you had escaped to a new pond with the same kind of fish that made you feel better.
The game was playing on a small TV monitor on the countertop. The women bantered between each other over the teams, they both had bets for either opposing teams.
“Why are you doing dishes?” Ransom scolded at the sight as he opened the door between the kitchen and the dining room.
The two women sheepishly scurried from his line of fire as he stomped to your side, turning the faucet off.
“I don’t know!” You yelled pulling your hands from the sudsey water. “I’m fucking uncomfortable and I hate your family.”
“I hate them too, but you’re going to have to get used to it.” Ransom handed you the towel that the maid left out for the dishes to dry your hands.
“Why?” You scoffed. “I don’t have to get used to shit, I don’t want to be here.” Your childish behavior will surely backfire and add even more of a punishment that was starting to stack up for when you get home but right now you feel like you are drowning.
The maids tried to avoid staring at the roadside attraction that was your altercation as they wiped down counters on the other side of the kitchen that had already been wiped down.
Ransom grunted, “Leave us,” he waved his hands at the maids and the pair scattered quickly out the door as if they were scared of him. If they truly knew Ransom then they’d really be terrified.
“Don’t talk to them like that!” You exclaimed, smacking a hand on his chiseled chest. “They’re people, you don’t speak to people like that.”
“Fine, I’m sorry…” He rubbed his hand exhaustedly over his face as if he’d been drawn to the point of exhaustion just from the charades the two of you played. “We’ll be out of here soon and then we can go home.” His hands angrily fell to his waist and you could see his vexation repressing from behind his eyes.
“No, Ransom!” You snapped, clenching the rough textured dishcloth. “I don’t to be here, I don’t want to be anywhere with you! I don’t want this life! I’d rather be poor till the day I die than live like these people!”
Ransom looked like he could strangle you. “Well, you better get used to it, because these people are the ones giving me the money to keep you from being chopped up into tiny pieces and sold as a meal!”
It felt as if you’d grown a suffocating lump in your throat as you realized that he was right. Ransom was paying for your freedom and they were the ones giving him the money he must’ve still owed. The irony of them being the type of people who would purchase you as a meal was not lost on you.
“I didn’t know…” Your confidence that was rooted in anger quickly washed away as you sheepishly turned into yourself.
“I know, I didn’t want you to know.” Ransom pulled you close to him against his chest. “I didn’t want you thinking Steve could take you back.” Since the two of you arrived he kept trying to find a reason to be touching you like you were his security blanket.
“Can he?” a disturbing cold sweat broke across your skin at the thought of the abyss you were trapped in when Ransom first found you. When he saved you.
“Only if I don’t finish paying him.” He admitted. “Meeting you was important in order to keep the money coming. My grandfather wanted to see you, wanted to see that you could tolerate me enough not to run away as soon as you were given the chance. Despite what you may think that dinner went really well.”
You rest your forehead against his chest for a moment, inhaling the overpriced Dior cologne before pulling away. “Is it just your grandfather who knows?”
Ransom nodded. “Everyone else now thinks we met in some bar and I swept you away from my cheating friend.” He looked down at you with a humorous glare. “Whatever that storytime was…”
“I don’t know,” You pursed your lips together with embarrassment. “Sometimes when I start talking I can’t stop and then I say weird shit and then I can’t stop.”
“I can tell.”
The two of you jumped at the abrasive invasion through the kitchen door from the dining room as a firing squad of women that were at the table now all talking over each other. “There you love bugs are!” Joni exclaimed.
“Ran,” Linda smiled at the two of you as they crowded around the island countertop. “The men are all in the game room for cigars, go join them this is just for us ladies.”
You glared at Ransom, silently begging for him not to leave you.
“Us ladies like posting pictures in the kitchen so we look like a real family! My followers love it.” Joni smiled pulling her phone out as Linda pulled a wrapped dish from the fridge. “Go on, Ransom.”
Ransom huffed and looked down at you with uncertainty. “Fine. One cigar and then we’ll leave.” You nodded and he took that as a send-off before leaving you. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as the finish line to this day came in sight. You didn’t think you’d ever be excited to go back to the basement.
Linda, Joni, Ransom’s niece a little younger than you, and another blonde woman who looked lobotomized and like she had taken too much Valium all watched Toni unwrap the dish, placing it as they made it and they were proud of their accomplishment.
It felt like you were in a movie about vampires and for comedic relief they had to pretend like they ate human food and act like they weren’t blood-sucking demons. The more you thought about it, they might’ve been.
They spoke loudly with each other and you glanced outside the window at the green meadow outside and followed forest behind it. This was a classic house in the woods that ‘no one can hear you scream’ movie cliche.
As you thought of the acres of untouched land that was their property a breaking news headline that cut off the football game drew your attention away and to the TV monitor the maids had left on after being ordered by Ransom to scatter.
The cacophony of frivolous arguments on whose phone they were going to take staged family photos with and who gets to post the first was nothing more than static in your ear as you stared at the small TV screen on the kitchen counter in utter shock with tear-filled eyes.
Your own reflection staring at you from the screen with a news anchor beside it speaking from a teleprompter script off-screen.
“The search for the missing 19-year-old college student is still going on 3 months after her disappearance as more information has come to light and her family refuses to give up hope she’s still alive and out there.”
You felt that dizzy feeling you get when you get strapped into a rollercoaster and the back of your knees weaken and your heart begins to race. “Please,” your mother and father sat beside each other on the screen, broadcasting a separate video. “If you’re out there watching this, just let us know she’s okay. We won’t ask questions, just please bring my baby home.”
Your father's eyes were sunken in and staring off into the distance trying to hide his sadness. Realistically you know he wants to be angry; wants to scream for the assailant to not be a coward and bring you home. You didn’t think your mother would be the type to beg on National television for your return, but here they were. You didn’t know your parents cared that much about you and you felt stupid now for ever questioning a thought like that.
“Is that…” one of Ransom’s relatives spoke up from behind you but it ultimately went over your head along with their silence as you stared at your heartbroken parents.
“Sketch artist recently released the photo of what the kidnapper might’ve looked like based on descriptions from the friends she was with and the street cameras outside the bar.” The news anchor broke apart the haunting image of your family. A sketch that resembled Steve flashed on the screen. But it looked just like any other handsome middle-aged Caucasian male. Nothing extraordinary that an unknowing person could point out in public. “If you have any information on the missing girl please call (866)…”
A hand ripped at your shoulder, tearing you away from your trance. “Is that you?” His aunt gasped pointing at the tv but you could barely make out her face with the way your eyes blurred with tears.
This was your chance. You just wanted to go home, you wanted to hug your mom. You wanted to curl up in her bed like you used to when you couldn’t sleep and your father had already left for work at the early hours of the morning he always had.
“Yes…” You gulped, begging for air. All plans of staying quiet and obeying Ransom had flown out the window at that moment. “Ransom took me, he-he bought me from a man named Steve! Please you have to help me.” You dug your nails into her arm. “Please he’s gonna kill me, please I won’t say anything, just let me go.”
The women all gazed at each other, waiting for someone to say something. “Jesus Christ, not again.” his mother gasped, covering her mouth.
You frantically whipped your head around the room, eying an array of knives by the stove, and contemplated grabbing one. “You have to help me.”
His mother shot a glance back at the closed kitchen door. “I’m taking her to the study to hide. Stall Hugh, say I took her to lie down in the guest room, say she wasn’t feeling very well.”
You stumbled over your own feet as the woman quickly shoved you out a door to the corridor, guiding you down a long hallway you don’t even remember seeing and up a flight of stairs. You thought about abandoning her plan and running out the front door as fast as you could. But with the mysterious expanse of the property and pair of German Shepards outside the only way of successfully getting out was his mother.
“He won’t look for you in here,” she looked over her shoulder as a lookout before shoving you down the hallway you’d met Ransom in after he spoke with his grandfather. “We can’t let him know what’s happening. I’ll call the police once you’re hidden, he won’t be able to escape that way.”
She fed you through a mahogany doorway into a dark room. “Don’t make a noise, I promise you’ll be okay.” She swore. “He can’t know we know. I have to go before he starts to get suspicious.”
You could only nod in response, flooded with relief and a sense of warmth from a maternal source of protection.
She quickly shut the door behind you and left you alone in the study. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the high ceilings and glass windows and books as far as the eye could see with an extravagant throne of what looked like knives at the center of the room. Every new room you saw in this house was more extravagant than the last.
You quickly kicked your heels off before rummaging around, looking for any form of defense. The more time that had past the more you felt like puking. The glass windows looked appealing to break and jump out of.
“Not again…” you recalled his mother saying in the kitchen.
Fuck
Shit
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How stupid were you to think they’d call the police? Why would they expose their precious son to the justice system and ruin their old money image?
The same way the blonde hair wrapped around a hairbrush deep in the bathroom cabinet he must’ve looked over.
You rushed to the door, gripping the brass knob only to realize it was locked.
You had that roller coaster feeling again. She locked you in.
You could feel the stampede of heavy footsteps trampling down the hall and you knew who it was even without seeing. And you finally understood why Finn froze on the train tracks. The truly impending realization of your doom weighing you to the floor. You didn’t want to go like this.
You grabbed the end table closest to the door and began to pull it over the threshold, knocking the lamp from the surface with the shattering of its lightbulb. It was the only piece of furniture you were strong enough to move to barricade yourself. Everything else was antique furniture made out of heavy solid wood.
The violent shimmying of the door knob flew you back. “Open the fucking door!” Ransom yelled.
This was your only chance at survival.
You bolted to the other side of the room, grabbing the heavy chair that sat in front of the deep wood desk.
A sweat broke out across your face as you dragged it to the window, trying to catch your breath. You needed to lift this thing. This was the heaviest mobile object you could get to break the window.
You cried out as you barely lifted the chair off the floor before quickly dropping it from the weight.
“Open this door or I swear to god I will fucking kill you!”
Ransom’s strength was magnified by his fury, you could see a brief sliver of him through the cracked wood, resembling Jack Nickleson in The Shining breaking through the wooden door to murder his wife.
“Fuck!” You sobbed, before scanning around again. The god-forsaken heels Ransom commanded you to wear that you tossed to the floor were your saving grace. You grabbed the expensive shoe and began slamming the heel of it against the frosted glass and it began to break.
A crack splintered through the clear reflection as you could hear your barricade starting to give in under his violent intrusion.
Glass flew back at you as you beat against the window, splintering but not shattering free. You beat on the glass for what felt like an eternity while there was a symphony of struggle coming from the other side of the door. Concerned voices screaming begged Ransom to stop, another scolding him for his actions.
You quickly spun your head around to protect yourself as the glass shattered free, the remains falling out the frame to the outside.
As you could see Ransom breaking down the last of the door you swallowed your hesitation as you climbed out the window.
The cold bitter wind splashed along your cheeks as you stood on the railing, gripping onto the exterior wall for support trying to ignore the fact you were a lot more high up than you thought. Fuck. You started to sidestep along the railing, begging for dear life not to lose your balance.
“Get back here!” You saw Ransom's arm swing around the window, reaching for you but you weren’t there. “So help me fucking god.”
The upper half of his body peered along the corner. His styled hair was askew and his cheeks were red with anger. The vein on his forehead bulged the way it always did when he was mad. The eye contact you made made you feel like you couldn’t breathe.
This was a mistake.
“Please, don’t fucking do this to me!” The fury in his voice cracked as he pleaded with you and you realized what it looked like you were doing.
You were sobbing, standing on the ledge, shaking like a leaf, covered in broken glass with cuts running down your arms that you hadn’t even felt from the adrenaline.
“Don’t fucking do this!“ he screamed as he started to step out onto the sill. “Please don’t!” He yelled and your heart broke for a moment. You realize he thought he was about to watch you fall to your death.
“I wasn’t gonna…” You were at a loss for words debating on what would make him angrier: you trying to take your life or you trying to escape.
“Weren’t gonna what?!” He shouted, his temper shining through. “Get back here! Don’t fucking do this.”
Another realization of a new opportunity hit you. You could just jump. You could either jump and kill yourself, jump and if you weren’t as lucky break your legs, or you could crawl back to him and face his wrath which would probably make you prefer death if he wasn’t already going to decide that fate for you already.
You glanced down and back at him again before taking a deep breath. “For the love of fucking God!” He screamed. His feet were too large to balance on the ledge like you were barely doing.
The aching expression on your mother’s face plagued your head, she needed you alive. You needed to apologize for the last thing you ever did was yell at her and steal her car.
You slid back against the railing, leaning against the wall for barely any real support as you made your way back to Ransom, the cold wind beating across your raw nose with the smell of fall weather.
“That’s it, baby, be my good girl come here!” He begged, extending his arms out as far as they could go waiting till you were close enough to reach and pull inside.
Nausea bloomed in you from your stupidity as you tried to push down the bland food you’d eaten.
When you got close enough, you felt his strong arms hold you at your waist, making sure you couldn’t fall as you made your last few steps. His clasp on you was so bruisingly tight it made you realize jumping to your death was probably a better idea.
Ransom yanked you inside, his hand holding the back of your neck against his shoulder to keep you from hitting your head as the two of you stumbled back onto the floor into the library, Ransom taking most of the fall to protect you.
You sobbed hysterically against him yet terrified of him and what he was going to do to you. And once again you shamed yourself for seeking comfort in him.
“Are you bleeding? Did you hit your head at all?” He pulled your head from being burrowed in his neck to look over your face. Only minor scratches from the shattered glass, and you could now finally see the bubbling anger and disappointment in his face.
He maneuvered you off him to stand. You glanced around and saw the audience of his family tree. His grandfather only looked at the two of you with just as much disappointment and yet no shock as he was the only one who knew the truth of your union.
“Well, I’ll be going to the attic, if any of you need me: don’t.” Harlan turned around from his stance against the wooden door frame of the office, his voice was stern and yet he spoke with the illusion of a medieval king commanding his subjects.
Quickly, you were forced to your feet only for a split second till you were thrown over Ransom’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry Ransom, I’m sorry!” You sobbed as your head felt like an explosion had gone off inside of it racking with pain.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut!” His broken voice still exuded anger as he stomped his way out of the library and down the stairs to the gravel lot.
You squeezed your eyes shut to keep from getting dizzy until you heard the faint sound of a trunk popping open and you swiftly getting tossed inside like heavy groceries.
“No Ransom! Don’t leave me in here!” You begged with a voice hoarse from all the screaming.
Ransom towered above you with one hand on the edge of the trunk’s lid. “You will ride home in the trunk like a dumb dog and for your own good I better not hear a single noise out of you for the rest of the way home.”
“Ransom-”
Slam
You had quickly been consumed by nothing but darkness and the growl of the engine starting.
Hyperventilating you reached around the tight space, trying to feel for anything. A carjack, bungee cords, tire gauge, any goddamn thing to protect yourself with but there was nothing there. You thought back to a thriller you once saw of a girl being abducted and how she was able to get out with the truck release lever. With your hands up you felt around the ceiling only to find the cord missing; it had been removed. A part of you wondered if he removed everything in preparation for this trip going south.
The ride home was silent from you other than the occasional sniffle and you tried to sleep but the drive was going to be shorter now that he didn’t have to take side roads to stay away from the sight of others but regardless now being trapped in a confined space felt like an eternity.
You both prayed and feared for a car accident.
When you awoke you were jolting in Ransom’s arms as he trotted down the steps to the basement and you began to cry again, this time in anger. You were so fucking close to freedom.
Stupid fucking bitch.
You should’ve paid attention as he typed in the passcode but you hadn’t thought of it nor did you feel like it would’ve mattered. The two of you hadn’t spoken a word until he tossed you on your bed and turned to storm out.
“Your mother said again. She said you did it again. How many times have you done this? Or how many times has she found out about it?”
He slowly turned back to you and you noticed his eyes were red and bloodshot but you were so goddamn mad you didn’t care.
“Once…” He muttered with a stiff jaw and you felt sick. He was being honest and giving you the answer you didn’t want to hear, but at least he was true.
“From Steve?”
“No,” He quickly butt in. “She was a cocktail waitress at a casino I used to go to a lot. Her name was Beth.” His voice was filled with hatred for himself reminiscing. “She’s the reason why this place was remodeled to be like this, why I chose a house in the middle of nowhere. She always smiled at me and remembered my drink order so I followed her for a bit, just for something to do. She lived in a shitty area, with bars on the windows, a deadbolt on the front door, and her bills were always stacked up, she never carried her cash home with her, she always stopped at the ATM on the nicer side of town where the casino was and deposited her money there. She had no family, only one friend, she had an on-and-off boyfriend she saw every now and then but he never stuck around. She took acting classes on Wednesdays.”
Your skin crawled at his confession. How long had he been following her to gather this information? How long had he fantasized about a girl just doing her job and trying to get tips?
“I asked her out once, she said it was against company policy and she could lose her job. I never knew if that was a lie or not.”
“Yeah, because what kind of trashy broke girls like us would want with an old money fuck like you?” You spit.
“I took her.” He stared at his feet, unable to look you in the eye during his confession. “No one even noticed for almost a month until her landlord started knocking. I just wanted to give her a good life. She was so exhausted and she drank all the time. I didn’t want her to worry about money or work, I just wanted her to be happy. But I wasn’t good to her..”
“Fuck,” You exhaled, your hands running over your face with tear-stained makeup flaking against your skin. You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to shut the fuck up, how could you have ever kissed him? Steve took girls at random. But Ransom was meticulous, he followed her for at least months at a time. “What do you mean you weren’t good to her…”
“I treated her like a doll. I made her wear tight dresses and heels and full faces of makeup every day. I would tell her how to talk and act, she was practically my live-in slave, and she was a good actor so I barely noticed her pain.”
She was a Barbie with her blonde hair that he got to play with.
“One day I wasn’t careful, and I dropped something, a vase or bottle, something like that. I turned my back while I was grabbing some towels and she took a shard of the glass and when I turned around she finally snapped.” Ransom swiped the tears beginning to form under his eyes away. “It felt like the first time I ever spoke to the real Beth, she screamed at me. Called me a controlling monster and that I’d never find real love. That’s the only way someone sane would ever love to be with me if I took them; I guess she was right.”
“So she tried to kill you and you killed her?” You rasped in pain, trying to avoid picturing the scene and where she was standing in this basement when she died.
“She slit her own throat right in front of me.”
Your voice died in your chest and everything made sense to you now. He was more scared of you taking your own life than taking his. When he thought you were trying to drown yourself in the bathtub, when he thought you were jumping to your death instead of just escaping, the way he tried to just make your life as comfortable as possible.
He never forced you to dress up every day or have a full face of makeup on only occasionally. Sometimes he’d dress you in a skirt or dress after you’d been in trouble and had you glam yourself up so he could have fun ruining it. But most of the time he wanted you to feel comfortable; at home.
Why he only had paper and plastic dining ware, why the mirror wasn’t glass, why he had his basement safety-proofed like a psychiatric hospital.
“I didn’t know what to do,” he interrupted your train of thought. “I called my mom and she made arrangements and had a team come in here and take care of it, I don’t know how she even knew them I didn’t exactly ask.”
It made you mad that Beth was reduced to a cleaning crew’s daily job. Would Linda have called the same men if you had jumped?
Your stillness crept under his skin as he silently begged for your forgiveness while also exuding anger like you hadn’t seen. He was blindsided.
“Yeah well Beth was wrong,” you rolled over your back to him as he stood in the doorway the same way his grandfather had in the library as another sob resumed to shake your body. “You took me and I will never love you…”
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If you or a loved one are having thoughts of harming yourself or attempting to take your own life, I know how it feels. But I know how it feels to lose someone to suicide and if only they had said something my best friend would still be here. There are other answers and other solutions.
Suicide prevention hotlines:
America: 988
Canada: 1 (833) 456 4566
United Kingdom: 0800 689 5652
A list of suicide prevention numbers in other countries
The Trevor Project - a suicide hotline for LGBTIA+: (212) 695-8650
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A/n: In the kitchen scene the line “I don’t know which fork I should kill myself with.” Is from New Girl and there are accidentally a lot of parallels in this dining room scene to the one from Shrek 2 I didn’t realize that until editing so that’s my bad. I was listening to Sleep Token when I was writing the smut so that’s why it has a bit of a god-complex vibe.
Sorry I didn’t write anything for like ten months. I lost so much of my life between my mom being killed, meeting the man who killed her, getting in a car accident, being raped, trying to kill myself, it’s been hard to get out of bed everyday but this fic is already planned and written out plot wise and if there are gaps in time of me posting I will never abandon this story
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Taglist is always open just submit an ask to my account so I can keep track
This taglist is old so if I tagged your account and you’re like idk who this bitch is my bad
After being taken by crazed cannibal, Steve Kemp, with the intent of selling your body to the disturbed wealthy, you capture the attention of the everyone’s favorite dark rich man, Ransom Drysdale. After catching his eye he decides to buy you for himself before you can be chopped to bits, with the promise that Steve could visit and play whenever he likes. As you try to escape what feels like your impending doom you don’t know what feelings become real and what becomes fantasy.
This is a mini-series. Taglist is open! I’m also taking requests for blurbs/drabbles/headcannons for this series as well
18+, each chapter contains dark!smut and labeled with its own trigger warnings before reading. Keep in mind the concept of Steve Kemp and his appetite so this will dark and gory type references.
Hey! Since you're taking request I was wondering if you'd flip the script? Like reader getting jealous because of groupies or geralt making her jealous on purpose just to prove how she's just as in love with him. Smut too please if possible 🥺👉👈
Dark!Rockstar!Geralt One Shot: Making You Jealous
Series Masterlist
TW: 18+, smut, lowkey dub-con due to stealthing, d&s, reader having a little dom moment, daddy kink, hair pulling, heavy alcohol use, reference to drugs, accousing infiedlty (but didn’t happen), if I’m missing any let me know!
Words: 3k
A/N: The way I gasp everytime I see you in my notifications and I got truely giddy seeing you request something from me bc you’re one of my fav fic writers. Anyway I hope I don’t disappoint I was sweatin the whole time writing this bc I was scared it wouldn’t be good enough for you. This one shot is also pre-pregnancy. And since rockstars don’t really exists anymore this is more of the game levels rock stars used to get if that makes sense.
Also, this series is primarily request-driven for anyone who wants to send something in it's encouraged! And to the ppl who have made requests already please know that I’ve seen them and they’re being written I’m just slow and I’m going in the order they were received.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. By continuing reading you confirm you are 18+, I do not give permission to have any of my work reposted or translated on any other platform even if you give credit.
“You need to come to get Geralt.” Keith had barely muttered a simple hello when you accepted the call.
“You’re his security, why are you calling me?” You rolled your eyes as you wiped your hands on the towel set up beside the bathtub.
Touring was fuckin rough to say the very least. You had a two-day stretch in Atlanta, finally being able to relax in a fancy hotel suite than sleep another night in a bus or on a first-class red eye.
Plus their fame granted them access to the finest five-star hotels. You were out up in their penthouse, the bottom floor being a large casino with restaurants and clubs attached. You were convinced buildings like these were a paradox and never actually ended. Once you had seen the large jacuzzi bathtub you immediately declined the invitation to their regular galivanting to rewind in the swimming pool-sized tub with your murder mystery novel, a face mask, and a mountain of bubbling foam.
“He’s a fucking giant who is double my size. Plus, you know he only listens to you when he’s like this.” Keith was a bruting man, so the few times you’ve heard him beg you knew he meant it. “And I don’t feel like having his PR agent up my ass tomorrow when his face is on the cover of every tabloid. He’s in the Spade Lounge.”
“Fine,” you groaned. “I’ll be down there in 10.”
Anger was coursing through your vein as you stomped through the oversized casino. You looked vastly different from its other patrons. People were dressed in glamor, and you were bare-faced wearing oversized tour merch and a pair of leggings.
You approached the bar with your arms crossed over your chest. As you tried to weasel in, a bouncer halted you. “Ma’am this is for VIP only, and we have a dress code.”
You could overhear Geralt’s husky yelling with overexaggerated laughter from inside the small club. “Look, Cameron,” You glanced at his name tag. “If you want that giant to tear up your little bar like a barbarian then I suggest you let me through.”
“What are you some groupie? He has enough of those with him.” He asked condescendingly. Your eyebrows furrowed at his comment.
You raised your left hand into his view to show the outlandish ring. “I’m his fucking wife and unless you want me to also make a damn scene then I suggest you let me through.”
You weren’t married yet, he begged for your hand and didn’t exactly like it when you said no. He made sure you’d be hurting in the morning as he hauled you over his shoulder and whipped you with his favorite flogger till you nearly fainted from the painfulsobbing and blood drew from your skin.
But once you gave in and screamed yes to make him stop, he became the soft man you fell in love with. He took care of you, held you in the bath, kissed you, and told you how much he loved you and he’s going to make you the happiest girl in the world. His gentle moments made you feel weak because the butterfly feeling you got when you first fell in love fluttered through you again.
The bouncer stepped out of your way letting you storm into the bar. Your heart was racing at his comment. Geralt wouldn’t do that, you told yourself, or would he? His deep ruckus lead you as directions to further back in the bar where all the bands that were touring along with the roadies and the groupies who followed them from show to show in a closed-off section. He was in the center of a rounded leather couch around a table that was covered in bottles and had faint white powder residue. But the two plastic-filled Barbie look-alikes that were practically sitting on his lap, one of them stroking his long hair, the other with a hand on his chest was the focal point of it all.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You yelled, bringing all their attention to you. Despite the bar being obnoxiously loud the group of animals stuttered quiet. Geralt’s head lolled to you, with pupils slightly enlargened with a dazed expression on his face. You hadn’t seen him this fucked up for quite some time. You hadn’t been there to cut him off like you usually did, and his cohorts encouraged this for the rockstar-type parties. His presence only had value to them when he was fucked up and blowing money and making magazine covers.
“Mmm,” He hummed with a grin. “There’s my pretty girl.” His groupies laughed to each other at your below casual outfit like high school girls would when you wore a pair of jeans that were out of style.
“Fuck you,” You grit your teeth. If you weren’t so furious you’d cry. This was the exact thing you originally broke up with him for to avoid this hurt. “You know what, stay down here all you want. You’re a piece of shit, have fun.”
“Baby,” He slurred, standing to cause the girls to fall off him. “I missed you.” It was like he ignored everything you just said. Unable to fit around the table at the center of the couch and people not getting out of his way fast enough he flipped the glass table out of his way, making sure to grab the bottle of Jack Daniels before the table shattered.
You were too furious that you knew that if he stepped any closer you were going to slap him. You stomped back out of the bar and through the casino except this time you had more speed trying to get away from him before your anger faded and tears would replace that.
As you stepped into the empty elevator you could see Geralt trying to catch up to you. “Wait!”
“Take the fucking stairs.” You growled before slamming on the closing-door button.
You pressed your back against the elevator wall, staring at the small screen that displayed the growing numerals as you grew taller. You wished Keith would’ve just kept his goddamn mouth shut and not involve you.
Once the number reached to 20th floor you dragged yourself to the room. The fact that you knew Geralt didn’t have a key made you giggle internally.
You stared at your belongings as you took a deep breath, trying to force your anger to remain so sadness wouldn’t grow in its place. Hesitantly you gathered everything you had. Why were you sad? You fucking hate him.
The police-style slam on the door made you jump. “Please let me in.” He begged out of breath. “I feel dizzy, I’m gonna, I’m gonna faint I think.”
“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath rushing to open the door. The last time he drank like this he hit his head and you had to stay awake to keep him from falling asleep.
But once you opened the door he stood there perfectly stable with no sign of passing out. “What the fuck?”
You jumped back as he forced himself into the room, slamming the door behind him. “20 flights of stairs I’m pretty sure I sweat half the alcohol from my body.”
You bit your cheek to keep from smiling, knowing that he chose to climb 20 flights of stairs like you demanded rather than taking the easy way with the elevator. But you might’ve second-guessed his towering muscle of the way he bulked himself from working out an annoying amount.
“I’m taking a flight to my sister’s considering how you made me break my fucking lease and move out of my apartment. Now it’s going to be practically impossible to find a new place with that in my background.” You yelled. “I fucking hate you.”
Geralt sighed, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist, persisting as you slammed against his chest to try to free yourself. “I love you, wasn’t doing anything. My hands were to myself, fuck I barely remember most of the night other than you throwing a fit and climbing up 20 flights of stairs.”
“Throwing a fit!” You scoffed pushing on his chest making him finally let you free. “You ruin my goddamn life and you can’t even stay faithful? You must think I’m a fucking idiot to fall for that song and dance.”
The anger once again replaced the sadness.
“I swear to god I’ll get the bar to pull up security footage.” He rubbed at his temples before sitting on the bed. “God, I fucking love you and I know how it looks but I just wanted to go back and kiss you and taste you and fuck you, I always need you and you weren’t even there to take care of me. They swarmed me.”
“They look like supermodels I have a hard time thinking you didn’t try to push them away.” You scoffed.
Before you could pace away Geralt grabbed you by the waist and forced you to stand beside him on the bed. “I only want you, you’re all I want. I need you, baby.”
You looked at his dopey-eyed expression adoring you. You pushed his shoulders to make him lay on the bed. “So help me God if you even think about cheating on me I’ll end your fucking life.”
You slid your leggings and panties to the ground before getting on the bed to straddle him. “If you think that any other pussy would compare to mine you’re dead wrong.”
Your hands began to undo his belt and you could tell he was trying to hide that shit-eating smile he wore whenever you were eager like this. “Pull me out, princess.”
Your hands instantly stopped and he groaned. “You know what, I’m gonna put that mouth to good use.” You scolded hiking yourself up his body and to hover over his face.
“Please, baby. Let me taste your pussy.” He begged, you could feel his heavy breath between your thighs.
“Show me how sorry you are then.” You ordered. He latched his arms around your thighs to pull you on his face.
His tongue wasted no time before gliding over your cunt like a starved caveman. You grabbed him by the roots of his white hair as you let out a moan. “Fuck…”
For as much of an asshole that he was, he knew how to bring you down with such ease that it should be criminal.
He flicked his tongue from under your clit with speed like he couldn’t get enough. You were almost dizzy from how good it felt.
“Ride my face, baby.” His request came muffled from between your thighs.
You stabilized yourself with one hand on the bed and the other remaining in his long locks before beginning to ride him. You whimpered as his mouth devoured you wholly, his tongue gliding along as he began to suck your clit.
Your hips gained speed as your breath grew heavier. You winced as one hand let go of its bruising grip on your thigh to aid his efforts and slide two fingers expertly inside. “Daddy,” You gasped as you felt his extensive digits curl inside you.
The rapidity of your moans would’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t so distracted by Geralt eating you out like his life was dependent on it. The pace of your hips rocked quickly against his face, dragging the bridge of his nose along your clit.
It became too much; the way his tongue was gliding against every inch of you, his dextrous fingers bending deep inside of you to taunt the spot he found so easily. “I’m gonna cum daddy.” You cried out, your head thrown back as you rushed along the edge. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.”
He merely grunted from between your thighs to encourage your release. The baritone vibrato of his hum sealed you off. The banshee-like scream you let out felt echoed around the suite and probably all the way down to the casino.
You struggled to catch your breath as you turned back over beside him to lay on the bed. Geralt wiped your release from his face before sucking his fingers clean. You barely had time to recuperate yourself before the insatiable giant was back on top of you, kneeling on the edge of the bed between your thighs.
“Look at you,” He grinned a vicious smirk, his fingers caressing over your sensitive folds making you flinch. “Why the fuck would you be as stupid to think I could ever want anyone else when I have such a cock hungry slut waiting in my bed for me?” He lifted your legs over his muscular thighs to aline himself with you.
“Maybe the same kind of stupid that would get himself in a situation where I could think that?” You grunted, quickly sitting upright to grab him by his tousled hair and forcing him to roll to his back.
You straddled his hips once again, his anger showed evident on his face with his lips pursed. “Call me stupid again and see what happens.” Your hand grazed over the expanse of his chest, your fingers moving to his neck. You swiftly maneuvered yourself onto him, the both of you groaning as you slid him fully inside.
You could hear the sheets tear under his hands as he gripped onto them tightly trying to restrain himself. You both knew he was letting you have this. If he truly wanted to there was nothing you could do to stop him from regaining power and keeping it that way.
“Fuck, you feel good.” Geralt cursed. The lump of his Adam's apple bobbed as he moaned. You caressed your hands along the beginning of his neck, feeling the stubble of his facial hair growing threw, down his woolly chest, twirling around the silver medallion that stayed permanently posted to him.
You ground yourself down his length, both of your moaning harmonizing with each other. “What’s stupid is for you to ever think that anyone else can make you feel this good.” You taunted. You could feel him struggle beneath you as you put his restraint to the test.
“Don’t want anyone else,” His breath was thick of teetering control.
You chuckled, copying his usual maniacal mocking laugh. “And yet every time when you accuse me of fucking someone else I end up in bruises? Why do you get to get off so easily? I mean I practically caught you. So why should I listen to your bullshit?”
When he tried to open his mouth to respond you clenched down on him, and watched his eyes roll back in reaction.
You dug your nails into Geralt’s chest as you road him faster. “Fuck, you look so good like this.” His eyes wandered your position in admiration. “I’m yours.”
“You don’t have to tell me things I already know.” You countered. “I can feel you throbbing in me, daddy. Is that all for me or those girls?”
Geralt abandoned his efforts of withholding and snatched your hips, beginning to fuck into you at a relentless speed. “You’re mine, and you’re all I fucking want and you will never ever have anything that isn’t me.” His hand came down roughly and smacked your ass. “You drive me fucking crazy and I think you secretly love it when I take it out on your pretty little cunt. And god I fucking love you.”
“I love you too,” you moaned and you knew it wasn’t a lie. You still loved him. And you were scared you would never stop.
“Daddy, it feels so good.” You lost all ounce of strength you had as he once again found the rhythm that brought you to your weakness. You folded over atop of him as you came, his hips sped through your climax.
Before you could gather yourself he yanked you down to be pressed against his chest. “You want me to prove that I want you and only you?” He growled in your ear as you felt his cock pile drive into you enjoying the obscene noises of your sweat coated bodies meeting. “I’m gonna fill you up with cum and see if you say otherwise.”
You pushed the palms of your hands against his chest to pull away from him but now he truly didn’t withhold his strength and didn’t let you anything but press against him.“W-Wait don’t-” Your pleading interrupted once you felt the telltale times of his release.
“You’re so good for me, my love. We belong together.” he hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as you tried to keep from crying.
“Let me go.” You grunted as you fought against his hold.
Geralt grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you down to have your ear next to his lips. “As adorable as it is to see you jealous, so help me God if you accuse me of that shit again I’m going to ruin that pretty skin of yours worse than I ever have.”
* This isn’t a legitsies fic, just similar to my Highest Bidder series where it’s random one shots, drabbles, headcannons, etc. *
The first one shot, Tour Life, should be read before the rest
Requests are encouraged as this series is primarily request driven
Taglist is open
One shots:
Part One - Tour Life
Part Two - Tour Life
Non-Request - Intoxication
Request - Making you Jealous
Request - The night you met
Drabbles:
Request - Jealous Geralt
Request - Pregnant Fluff
Request - The Firsts (pt1)
Non-request - The Break Up
Head Cannon:
Request - Going into labor
Thoughts and Blurbs:
Fluffy thought: Reader forcing him to take care of his beautiful hair
Dumbass thought: His eye color
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This is a DARK series with dark themes and smut. There’s a list of trigger warning at the beginning of each individual update. You are responsible for your own media consumption. By continuing reading you confirm you are 18+, I do not give permission to have any of my work reposted or translated on any other platform even if you give credit.
