I've Never Hated A Fictional Child So Much

black vampires + witches

akasha, queen of the damned (2002)

louis & claudia, interview with the vampire (2022-)

tara thorton, true blood (2008-2014)

blade, blade (1998)

marcel gerard, the originals (2013-2018)

sarah fox, my babysitter's a vampire (2011-2012)

alex & camryn, twitches (2005)

rochelle zimmerman, the craft (1996)

bonnie bennett, the vampire diaries (2009-2017)

vincent griffith, the originals (2013-2018)

marie laveau, american horror story (2011-)

macy vaughn, charmed (2018-2022)

The girl has more children with him than years together. I cannot understand the pain of living for so many years with your jailer having to give you children as gifts. Steve is disgusting, old-fashioned, rotten inside and it's absurd to think he actually thinks he's doing the right thing.

In addition, the story is so good and engaging, it leaves a feeling of wanting more. wonderful writing

High Value Hero 8: The Chalet/END

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY

Summary: America’s golden boy, Steve Rogers, doesn’t have the most modern view of women behind closed doors. And the podcasts his buddy Sam has introduced him to don’t help the situation. Unfortunately for you, you catch his eye when you become his next door neighbor.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Relationship: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: No beta reader. This gets…pretty fucking dark, so read the warnings.

Warnings: non-con, smut, misogyny, somnophilia, drugging, stalking, breeding kink, gaslighting, toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, size kink if you squint, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, murder, voyeurism, and a whole host of others that will be added as we go on.

This is a dark fic - so read the damn warnings. YOU are responsible for your own media consumption.

The rest of the holiday was much calmer after Taylor had left. Her fight with Steve left you somewhat shaken. You’d never seen her this unhinged before and to make matters worse she kept calling and texting you. You ignored her for the time being, still upset that she’d caused such a shameful display and attacked Steve.

You tried to push your memories of the fight out of your mind as Steve drove up the winding road to Tony’s ski chalet. The resort was four hours from the nearest city and the house was about three miles from the resort itself. You had gotten lucky that a large snowstorm had dumped a few feet of snow the day before you arrived. The forest surrounding the house was like a winter wonderland and moonlight reflected brightly off of the white snow.

“We’re here!” Steve announced and looked at you.

“I thought you said it was a small chalet.” You gawked at the massive house as you got out of the car.

“Small by Tony’s standards.” He shrugged, “I just texted you the code to the door. How about you head in while I get the bags. It’s freezing out here and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“You won’t argue with that.” You agreed, shutting the car door and quickly heading inside.

You rubbed your hands together when you entered the house and were relieved to find the heat already on. You looked around the large open floor plan and somehow the chalet seemed even larger on the inside. Despite its somewhat modern style, it still felt cozy on account of its large fireplaces and the warm toned wood. You wandered around, finding your way to the kitchen area and opened the double fridge. It was already stocked with food for your stay and there was more than enough wine for the time you’d be there.

You took off your coat and scarf then grabbed a bottle of red wine. You poured glasses for you and Steve.

“Steve, come here!” You called to him cheerily when you heard him come through the door and wipe his feet on the mat, “We can deal with the bags later.”

“Let me just take them up - “ Steve stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing with a glass of wine in the kitchen. He walked up to you and quickly snatched it away.

“Hey! What the hell?” You exclaimed as you reached for it, “Steve, stop playing around!”

“I’m not playing, Y/N.” He snapped at you and looked at you sternly, “You shouldn’t be drinking when you’re – when you’re sick.”

“I’ve just been a little nauseated lately. That’s all, but I feel fine today.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself, “You still puked yesterday, Y/N.” He responded with concern, “It’s at least two hours to the nearest real hospital. You’d have to get medevacked. I just don’t want to take any chances. That’s all.”

You huffed but Steve was right, god forbid you irritated your stomach even further and made yourself sicker. You pouted as you put the bottle away and poured the glasses of wine down the sink. Steve looked through the shelves and found chocolate bars to make hot cocoa. He also pulled some whipped cream out of the fridge.

“How about I make us a fire and you whip up some of this instead?” He counter offered gently with a soft smile as he rubbed his knuckles up and down your arm, “It’s a bit more fitting for the weather too.”

“I suppose it is more fitting.” You scrunch your nose, hating to admit that he was right.

~~~

Steve put on some of his favorite music from the ‘40s and tended to the fire with the blowpoke to make sure it was just right. When he was finished he settled onto the couch next to you under the blanket. You watched the flames whip around the fireplace and enjoyed the scent of the burning logs. The crackling noises only added to the cozy atmosphere.

You eventually started to yawn as sleep crept over you. Steve rubbed your shoulder and then gave you a peck on the top of your head.

“Time for bed, doll.” He announced with a yawn, as he slowly got up.

You let out a whimper, “I’m too tired to make it upstairs.” You whined and collapsed onto the couch where he had been sitting.

Steve chuckled at you softly and then suddenly picked you up bridal style. You yelped at his sudden movement and he swiftly walked across the room and up the stairs. You wrapped your arm around his neck as your body jostled with each step. Steve nudged the door to your room open with his foot and then playfully dropped you on your bed.

“There, now all you have to do is pass out.” He teased you, “All the hard work’s done.”

He started for the door but then you called him back, “You can sleep in here tonight, if you want.” You offered coyly.

Steve looked at you surprised, “Are you sure? I don’t want to - “

“Come here.” You beckoned him with your hand out.

Steve approached you slowly and grabbed it. You pulled him towards you and into a kiss. It was gentle at first and his soft lips felt amazing. His large hands caressed your face as he deepened the kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and Steve pushed you backwards onto the bed. You scooted towards the pillows and then sat up to quickly undress yourself as Steve did the same.

You could feel the tension coming off of him as he gazed at your naked form. Your eyes traveled down the vee that led from his lower abs to his large and girthy cock. You knew he was big, but not that big. He was intimidatingly large. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips in anticipation and he chuckled at your reaction as he languidly stroked his cock.

Steve kneeled on the bed and then crawled up your body. He hovered over you and spread your legs with his thighs. You whined as he began to kiss down your neck and shoulders. The warmth of his body and his touch felt so familiar to you. You could feel yourself become instantly wet and your pussy quiver with anticipation.

He moved his hand between your legs and gently ran two of his fingers between your dripping folds.

“You're already so wet for me, doll.” He purred seductively in your ear.

You felt an aching need within you to be filled and grabbed his hand by the wrist.

“Please just fuck me, Steve.” You nearly begged him, “I need to feel you.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” He huskily rasped into your ear as he lined himself up with your slit and then slowly pushed into your heat.

“Fuck!” You gasped as you felt yourself stretch around him, “Oh my god!”

The stretch didn’t burn nearly as much as you had expected. There was just an instantly gratifying fullness. Steve began to move and you bit your lip while you wrapped your thighs around him tighter, savoring the feeling of the smooth skin of his hard cock massaging your inner walls.

Steve moved expertly within you, as if he knew your body like the back of his hand. Your pussy clenched around him as he instantly hit all of the right spots within you. You closed your eyes as they rolled and gave into the growing pleasure.

“So fucking perfect for me.” He moaned as thrust into you faster, “You like this big dick don’t you, baby.”

You mewled as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten and your legs start to shake. Your nails dug into his back and you felt his hot breath against your neck.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He growled with sharp thrusts that made you yelp as the sharply hit against your cervix.

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned breathily, ‘Yes, I love it.”

He reached his hand underneath you to grab your ass and pull you closer to hit at a deeper angle, “What do you love? Hm?”

Your breathing became labored as your legs tensed, “Your big dick. It feels so fucking good.”

Steve snarled as he snapped his hips into you roughly. You felt your back arch off the bed and squeeze down around him so hard you felt like you were going to break him. The coil snapped and Steve groaned as your body thrashed underneath his.

“Steve! Steve!” You chanted as bliss washed over your body and you saw stars.

Steve pounded into you as he rode you through your high and chased his at the same time.

“Not gonna last any longer, doll.” He panted as his hips snapped harshly, “Pussy’s too fucking good.”

“Fuck, I wanna put another one in you,” He groaned as his cock twitched and began to pulse as he painted your inner walls. Steve moaned as he gave you a few more sloppy thrusts and then collapsed on top of you.

You gently ran your fingers across his back and up and down his neck while you caught your breath. Then you remembered what he said, “I wanna put another one in you,” then started giggling.

“What are you giggling about?” He murmured between bites on your shoulder.

“I wanna put another one in you?” You snorted, “Like what? You wish you had another dick, Steve? Because this one is more than enough.”

He paused for a moment and then laughed lightly, “I dunno what I meant.” He lied, “My brain doesn’t exactly work properly during sex. Especially not with you.” He rolled off of you and pulled you into his chest.

You snuggled against him as he ran his hands gently up and down your back. He let out a satisfied hum before kissing you on the forehead.

“Come on, let’s take a nap, doll.” He said mischievously, “You need to rest up because I’m not done with you yet.”

~~~

The next few days were utter bliss and you couldn’t have planned for a more perfect getaway. You’d have mind blowing sex with Steve throughout the night, then get up to make breakfast, before you hit the slopes and hung out at the resort until it was time for you to come back and make dinner.

Sex with Steve was something that you’d never experienced with a new partner before. It was like you’d been lovers for a while and he’d taken the time to know exactly what got you off. His appetite was insatiable and he fucked you in every postion imaginable on almost every surface of the chalet.

Your time on slopes wasn’t as adrenaline inducing as you hoped it was because Steve had never skied before. So instead you helped instruct him on the bunny slopes while giggling at the super soldier losing his footing and falling down. Thankfully no one was able to recognize him because of how covered up he was.

One day you finally wanted to branch out on your own and hit up one of the more advanced slopes while he got lunch.

“Hey,” You said as you grabbed his arm to help him up off the ground after he had fallen again, “How about you grab something to eat while I go on one of the harder slopes? I can meet you back at the house.”

You couldn’t see Steve’s eyes through his ski goggles, only the distorted reflection of your face. But you could see how his hands gripped his poles and small ticks in his jaw. You’d learned to read his body language over the past few days and knew he wasn’t happy with the idea.

You let out a deep exhale and grabbed his arm gently to try and placate him, “Look, I know we were supposed to spend most of this trip together, but I haven’t been up here in a really long time. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

“When was the last time you’ve been up here? Or Skiing at all for that matter?” He challenged you and you could hear the irritation in his voice, “Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to just go off and do something more dangerous when maybe you don’t have your bearings?”

You were taken aback at how quickly his demeanor changed, “Yes, it’s been a while, but I’ve been doing this since I was a kid –”

“No, it’s out of the question, Y/N.” He stated forcefully, “Like I said earlier, it’s two hours to the nearest actual hospital and I also promised your dad I wouldn’t let you get hurt.”

“Out of the question?!” You sassed him back in disbelief, “Who the hell do you think - “

Steve dropped his ski poles and grabbed you tightly by the arm, “I’m saying no for your own good. Now come on before you start drawing attention.”

You stared at him for a while not knowing what to make of the interaction. Steve had never been like this with you before. You preferred to talk about it in private and so you complied and went back to the house.

You angrily huffed as you removed your gear and stomped over to the kitchen to get some water. You practically slammed the glass down before you started to make your way towards the stairs. Steve intercepted you and tried to pull you in for a hug but you pushed him away.

“Stop it!” You seethed at him, “I just want to go upstairs and be alone right now.”

You saw a darkness flicker across his face but then it softened and he reached out for you again.

“Hey, doll, don’t be like that.” He cooed as he fought you and pulled you into a smothering embrace, “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

You tried to pull away but he was too strong, “You sound more like you’re trying to control me, Steve and you're not my goddamn father.”

He let go of you just enough for you to pull away slightly before one of his hands grabbed you by the back of the neck with just enough pressure to keep you in place and the other gently caressed your face.

“I would lose my shit, Y/N, if I let you get hurt.” He told you calmly with a bit of harshness in his voice, “I’d fucking burn the world down if something happened to the two of you.”

“What?” You looked at him confused, “The two of us?”

You felt a sinking feeling in your gut as Steve began to stroke your face gently and then kissed you softly on the forehead. His silence made your blood run cold.

“Do you really think you’ve had a stomach bug for this long, sweetheart?” He asked you almost condescendingly with his head cocked to the side, “Or that what? Your hormones were just out of whack because of all the stress. How long has it been since you’ve had your period? Because I fucking know.” Steve lightly taunted as he squeezed one of your tender breasts.

You winced in pain and tried to push him away from you. Your heart began to pound in your chest as his words registered, but you couldn’t believe what he was saying. It wasn’t possible. He let you go and you stumbled backwards away from him.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, doll.” He told you calmly as he gazed at you with a small smirk, “How would that even be possible. Hm?” Steve took slow deliberate and menacing strides towards you as you continued to move away from him as terror rose within your body.

“Ohhh…my body is so sore after drinking that tea.” He mocked you, “Well if you say that’s normal, then I guess it is, Steve.”

“No, no, no.” You shook your head in disbelief, “No, you wouldn’t do that, Steve. You wouldn’t do that.” You were shaking now as the realization of what Steve had done hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Do what?” He asked with his lip curled, “Take what’s mine? You belonged to me the moment I saw you in that hallway, Y/N. It just took you this long for you to finally realize it.”

“Taylor was right about you.” You said softly as tears started to stream down your face, “She was right and you made us think - you made us think she was the crazy one! You fucking psycho! You raped me and you -“

“Raped you?” Steve scoffed, “You fucking feminists call everything rape these days, you know that? You can’t rape what belongs to you, doll. What kind of sense does that even make? Use your fucking brain, Y/N.”

Your legs almost gave out when you heard those viscous words fall from Steve’s lips. You tried to muster as much courage as you could as you took in a shaky breath.

“I’m going to leave now. I’m going to leave and I don’t want you to ever come near me again.” You told him as your voice quavered.

Steve snickered in amusement as he watched you trying to hold yourself together and tutted you, “No, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere with my baby. So sit the fuck down and stop being such a drama queen.”

Your body acted before your mind could and made a run for the door. Steve chuckled darkly as he quickly ran ahead of you and stood in front it, blocking you from escape. You turned around and bolted up the stairs towards one of the guest bedrooms as fast as you could. When you entered the one at the farthest end of the hallway you closed and locked the door behind you.

You looked around the room for anything you could use as a weapon and saw a blowpoke near the fireplace. You grabbed it and then stood behind the door waiting for Steve. You knew it wouldn’t take him down entirely, but maybe it would give you enough time to get a good head start.

“Y/N!” You heard him call out for you as he reached the top of the stairs, “Y/N, sweetheart, you need to calm down. All of this excitement isn’t good for the baby.”

You shook uncontrollably and tried to stifle your sobs. You were scared and also ashamed. How did you let such a monster into your life? How did you not pick up on any signals at all? Was he just that good or were you just that stupid? Taylor tried to warn you and you were too convinced by Steve that he was a good guy you ignored her pleas when she tried to save you.

Steve’s heavy footsteps got closer and closer. You heard them stop at the door of the room next to yours and open it. He walked around for a bit and then left. You knew the room you were in was next and tried to prepare yourself.

“I know you’re in here, baby.” He said before he opened the door.

Steve wailed as you hit his foot with the blowpoke. The curved hook stabbed through his foot and you could see blood stain his thick wool socks. You removed it and then whacked him in the head before sprinting past him as he fell to the ground holding his head.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!!” He bellowed in the distance, “YOU FUCKING DUMB BITCH!”

You quickly threw on your boots and coat and made a run for it through the snow. You knew he would chase you down the main road and you decided to try and chance it by making it through the woods to the resort. You could see the ski lift in the distance and all you needed to do was make it there, but the snow was so much deeper than you anticipated.

You tried to run as fast as you could but instead kept tripping and falling into it. Despite how hard the trek was, you were determined to get away from Steve.

You soon realized that you didn’t hear anyone around you. You didn’t hear another set of footsteps or Steve calling after you. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go, but why was he being so quiet? The silence put you on edge, but you forced yourself to start moving again.

After what seemed like at least twenty minutes you heard a large rock hit a tree next to you. Heavy snow fell from the tall branches and you ran away trying not to get hit with it. You heard Steve laughing darkly behind you.

You turned and couldn’t see him, so you ran to hide and covered your mouth to keep him from seeing your warm breath in the cold air. But it was also to stifle your sobs.

You heard footsteps crunching in the snow and Steve let out an annoyed sigh, “Sweetheart, you’re not getting away from me. Not with that tracker I put in you.”

You gasped against your palm, but it was clearly loud enough to hear with his advanced hearing.

“I’m not going to come over to that tree and drag you back to the house. Besides, I would never lay a hand on you.” He declared arrogantly, “No, I’m going to give you a choice.”

“A choice?” You thought to yourself. You knew it was just some fucked up game.

“You come back to the house with me and you accept that we’re a family now.” He started to explain to you, “Or, you choose not to. In which case, I will kill every single one of those snot nosed little brats in your class one by one until you come to your senses.”

You choked out a horrified sob. Not your students. You couldn’t believe that he was threatening them. The thought of him harming them made bile rise into your mouth.

“Oh? You don’t think I’ll do it, do you?” Steve continued nonchalantly, “What are their names again, baby? Bella…Jayden…oh that little weirdo Ryan. Maybe I’ll start with Ryan. It’s not like that kid’s going places anyway.”

You leaned against the tree and your body sank until you were sitting on the snow, your knees against your chest as you covered your face and cried. Steve would do it. You knew he would and you couldn’t let that happen. You heard his footsteps as he neared. He stopped in front of you and held out his hand.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go home.”

~~~

SIX YEARS LATER…

The camera crew did their final checks on the lighting as the stylists flitted around you and your family. You sat next to Steve in a feminine floral dress paired with a gold cross necklace and your hair pinned back with just a few coils framing your face. Steve sat next to you in a button up with rolled up sleeves and dress pants chatting with the interviewer before you were going to start recording.

You shushed your children and told them to quiet down before the cameras were about to start rolling. The oldest was Molly, who was followed by the twins Ronan and Conor. Then there were Christopher, Declan, and Sean. Your youngest Katie, who just started teething, squirmed on your lap as you held her against your growing belly. You were pregnant, again. But Steve had said you were already getting up there for a woman when he met you, and so he couldn’t waste time on you having too many breaks between the children.

“Alright, are we ready to start?” the chipper interviewer asked with a smile.

You knew the drill and you smiled back at her, hoping that it reached your eyes. You had learned your lesson after the first time a tabloid said you looked like you were being held hostage in your engagement photos with Steve. Taylor paid the price for it and after such a traumatizing loss, you fully realized that there was nothing too low or depraved Steve wouldn’t do to get what he wanted from you.

“Rolling.” The cameraman announced.

“So, President-elect Rogers and Mrs. Rogers, thank you so much for inviting us into your home this afternoon, along with your beautiful family.”

“It’s a pleasure having you here.” You smiled back at her, faking as much warmth as possible.

“President-elect- “

“Please, please, just call me Steve.” He interjected, “I really am still just that simple guy from Brooklyn.”

The interviewer chuckled, “Well, and that may be why the voters connected with you so much, Steve. You’re the first American presidential candidate to win 49 states since Ronal Reagan in the 1980s. You’re also the first Republican candidate to - “

You sat there with a Stepford smile plastered across your face as you turned to Steve to look adoringly at him, smile back at the interviewer, shush one of your children playfully and at the same time think about what your life could have been.

What if you hadn’t moved into that apartment building? What if Ethan had helped you move instead of Steve? What if you had listened to Taylor? What if you hadn’t been so blind? What if you hadn’t been so stupid?

“Mrs. Rogers?” The interviewer asked, pulling you from your thoughts, “Why do you think the voters connected so much with your husband?”

You knew this answer despite how much it wanted to make you vomit. You had been coached on it over and over again.

“Well, I think that voters see the sacrifices my husband made when he carried the shield, how he put himself in danger selflessly for others. I think they relate to him from even before the serum when he was a scrappy kid in Brooklyn.”

“Aww..sweetie.” Steve beamed at you as he squeezed your hand.

“But, I also think that when they look at our family, they understand how big his heart truly is.” You continued, “That he has compassion. That he is a true leader, in both his work, the church, the community, and in our home.”

Steve put his arm around your shoulder and gave you a peck on the head.

“To summarize what I think you’re trying to say, honey, I think it’s just that when a lot of voters see me, they see the traditional values they want to get back to.”

END

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He keeps fighting. He keeps fighting. He climbed on a fucking dragon and fought. What kind of person climbs on a fucking dragon? A madman or a king!

Reblog if you’re a Black woman, love Black women, are friends with a Black woman, are in love with a Black woman, are dating a Black woman, support Black women, or just really love flowers. 

Brother May I Masterlist

summary: Sarah was the sister he resented, Wheezie was the sister he adored, but even after years in the Cameron household, you still didn’t know how Rafe felt about you.

Keep reading

I feel so sorry for her 😭 I feel like she expected to discover more about him when he returned, that he would bring more firewood and warmth with him, but she was surprised by a monster more violent than she could have expected. Will he have the reasoning that this behavior will make her colder with him? Rejecting what he offers? Even animals recognize when their behavior does not please, my dog knows when he did something wrong and tries to "compensate" by making an abandoned face 🫠

Mission Control 11

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A storm falls like a harbinger of his return. Winds batter the siding and the windows rattle with the speckle of cold rain. The chill creeps through the walls as you ration the last few pieces of wood.  

As you quake before the fireplace, the door swings open and hits the frame, adding to the cacophony of nature’s rage. You hardly have a moment to react as his dark figure falls on you like a wraith. You flail your legs as the blanket catches on a lose tile before the crackling flames and he drags you across the floor. 

Your heels bounce futilely on the rug as the rain blows through the open door. The man once known as a hero, the man lost to the ice all those centuries ago, take you into the bedroom and flings you like a rag doll. Like a thing. 

You hit the food of the bed and land on the floor with a crash. You groan as your bones ache, not only with the impact but from the endless tension. As you writhe, he steps over you, smearing blood onto your night gown as he grabs the tinged fabric. 

He hauls you up so you stand on your toes. You smell the iron stained into his body armor. You look up at the mask that hides him. You try to imagine those blue eyes but you only see a monster. He is only the indomitable villain that plucked you out of your own life. 

He hurls you across the bed and you gasp as you land on your side. You roll onto your stomach and crawl up the mattress. He catches your ankle and tears you back as the frame dips with his weight. You rip the sheets into a wrinkle as you fight to escape him. 

This isn’t the man that left. This isn’t the docile stranger trapped in indecision. You sense in him a furor worse than that wailing outside the cabin.  

He flips you onto your back and grabs the front of the linen nightgown. He rents the fabric down the middle and exposes your body. You bat at his hands without effect as you wriggle. He pushes a knee between both of yours, splaying you wide. 

He grips your hips and hauls your closer. You squeak and reach up, clawing desperately for any escape. There’s nothing by the flat pillows and the top of the rumpled sheets. He pushes a hand up your body and stretches it around your neck. 

You still and whimper as you put your hand on his wrist. You flick the tears with your lashes and whine. Terror swells in your chest and floods through your veins like icy water. You can’t fight him. Not physically. 

“Please, don’t,” you beg as you touch his knuckles. “Please, you don’t have to--” You wheezes as his hand squeezes tighter. “You don’t have to do this. Please, please, I’m scared. I’m scared...” you croak between willowy heaves, “it hurts. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” You trail your hand up his arm, feeling the rough fabric, dirty dusting off beneath your graze, “Captain... Steve Rogers--” 

His hand nearly crushes your throat and cuts off your next plea. Your head pounds and your tears trickle out unchecked. No, no, that was wrong. You shouldn’t have said any of that. You’re just so scared. 

You close your eyes as your skull pulse and you choke for a breath, clasping onto his thick forearm as you try to ease his hold on you. His other hand pushes away the night gown so it splays around you. He shoves his hands between your legs, rough as he pokes at your folds. 

He wiggles his fingertips impatiently and rams into you without warning. You smack his bicep desperately as he jerks you with hard thrusts. You whimper and your eyes snap open as his hand slips just enough for you to gulp in a breath. 

He rips his hand away and shifts on his knees. He struggles to undo his fly, growing more impatient as the sheaths and weapons get in his way. You try not to look at him as you know what he means to do. 

All that hope, that sliver of hope that you had before, that he might be gentle, that he might be appeased, is gone. You latch onto his arm as you brace himself. You jostle on the mattress with his movement. He leans weight on your neck as he looms over you. 

He pushes his knees wider and pushes along your cunt once more. You can tell it’s him; not his fingers, but that other part of him. His blunt tip strains against you as your body tries to resist the intrusion. He grunts and bucks his hips. As he breaks through you gurgle and dig your nails into his sleeve. 

He snarls as he curls his hand around your hip and jerks again. He thrusts deeper and your eyes roll back as your body locks up in agony. He dips his hand around your neck and lifts you, bringing you into his lap as he tilts again. 

He bottoms out as he hooks his thick arm around you and cradles your head with his hand. You hang off him limply as you suck in air. Tendrils of pain entwine you and have you paralysed and prone. If you fight, it will only be worse. 

He rocks you in his lap. He growls and hangs his head down next to yours. He moves your head to the side and presses his cowl against your next. You babble and snivel each time he sinks into you.  

The storm has swept away the calm at last and you’re lost to the dark clouds.

NICHOLAS ALEXANDER CHAVEZ Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story 1.01

HIT MAN (2023) dir. Richard Linklater