Fuck, I Need Him So Much, And Your Talent Is Incredible, Do I Even Have Words? No. I Don't. Oh, How I
fuck, I need him so much, and your talent is incredible, do I even have words? No. I don't. Oh, how I need more right now 😫
While holding you
Summary: Your second wedding night, but now under the General.
Pairing: Dark! Suitor! Marcus Acacius x Queen! Reader
warnings: noncon, abusive relationship, taunting, psychological abuse, suicidal thoughts, reader is describes as short in comparison but you can imagine Acacius as tall as you want (he's huge), unprotected sex (p in v), handjobs (f and m recieving), angst.
Series Masterlist
Acacius shut the door behind him, taking the key with himself. You were too tired, too tired to attempt anything as your eyes drifted to sleep.
You woke up from time to time, seeing the sun move behind the clouds. It was evening when you heard the door creaking again. From your position you were unable to see it, but despite smelling Lucius perfume, you knew who it was.
Clenching your eyes shut, you felt him near the bed. A cool circle fell on your stomach as he hunched over to untie you. You could smell mint, eucalyptus alike blood and dirt. Once your arms were free and you attempted to bring them close, you yelped out from the immense pain of the strain.
A hand propped you up, sitting you in the soiled sheets, and the ring fell between your legs. Seeing it brought a storm of emotions into you, a deep ache settled in your heart. A golden band with an oval shaped top and engraved with MAXIMUS inside. As your hands reached for it, Acacius undid the gag around your mouth. Your jaw ached as you closed your lips, tongue dry and throat hoarse.
“He is gone.” He told you coldly, and you didn’t reply. Too busy looking at the ring, propped in bloodied sheets. “Mourn him while you can, because tonight is our wedding night.”
The wedding. A reminder you didn’t need.
“You killed him.” You croaked, and he just gave you a blank stare.
“I didn’t,” He told you, matter of factly. “A Numidian ship comes to harbor carrying dozens of barbarians along Lucius; another one of them.”
You wanted to know more, to hear him confess; he kept his sentence short, punishing.
“He was furious; couldn’t kill him until he was captured.” He chuckled, as if telling you a funny anecdote. “Your Gladiator was a skilled fighter, but ten against one is no fair fight.”
You suppressed a sob, knowing that if it came out it wouldn’t stop. His hands were now in the sides of your chest, hoisting you to your unsteady feet. You allowed him, too weak to do anything against him, once again. As expected he guided you to the bath in your room. Perhaps the water had been prepared while you were unconscious. Servants did that all the time while you were sleeping, coming through the back door-
The back door. The one leading to the bath and then into your room.
You realized then how he had entered the room. But it was futile now. He lowered you into the bath tub at the floor of the room, and you sat down on the marble seat. Your head lulled to the side of the tub as you felt the grime of his actions unstick to you. You clutched the ring in your hand.
“Took it while I slit his throat.” He groaned, as if it brought him pleasure. “See how nice I am?”
Even while seeing you utterly destroyed he couldn’t come to he merciful to your soul. A cup was pressed against your lips and you could almost moan as the sweet, refreshing drink slid down your throat, easing your dry mouth.
Before you could down too much of the liquid he took it away from you, some dripping down your chin.
“Ah ah ah,” He tutted, using his other hand to dip into the water and clean your face. “Can’t have you drunk on our wedding night; want you to be awake.”
Your eyes clenched and a whimper attempted to escape your pursed lips, as if begging him not to. You shook your head, hands too weak to splash against the water in frustration.
“You’ll be the most beautiful wife.”
And with that he left, and you contemplated drowning yourself. It felt like the easiest way out, but what would that work for? You’d be leaving the people of Rome to his mercy.
It sped by you; your maids padding into the room, attempting to cover the bruises you wouldn’t speak about and stitching you into your dress. Soon enough you were sitting on the carriage, the veil shielding your shame from the City of Rome and the gaze of your fiancé.
You took pleasure in the improperness of the hasty wedding, the lack of a sacrifice, the absence of your father; he had been present in your first wedding. The dress you had been forced into was the same too, only with some alterations done that you assumed was Acacius’ idea. Only his sick mind would lower the neckline do much.
You spat out vows, bile rising to your throat as Acacius dangerous, canine grin stayed through out his. He was clad in white once again, as the day he had been presented the laurel wreath crown for his bravery. The color made his tan skin shine under the dipping sun; he looked as some wretched god.
The wedding party would be celebrated the next day; perhaps another hasty attempt to procure an heir. You sat down once again in the carriage, realizing through your haze it wasn’t taking you to the Palace.
“What are you doing?” You snapped at him, as he directed the golden carriage. He didn’t answer. Despite being in sight of the whole City of Rome, you didn’t falter to cause a scene. “Where are you taking me?!”
His hands tightened around the reins and his jaw ticked; what could he do in front of Rome?
Placing a broad hand in your back, he pushed you close to him.
“I am taking my wife to my Villa to fuck a heir into her.” He whispered, smile still present for show. “Think carefully of what you are doing, my Empress, think in whose hands you’ll be later.”
He hushed you, and you almost hid your face as tears streaked down. You still waved at your people, it was improper not to.
The stars had set over the night sky as you arrived to the torch lit villa; It was huge, imposing as Acacius himself. You remembered your first wedding night; June, and Lucius had chuckled when he had to pretend kidnapping you as you went so willingly. You didn’t need to pretend now.
He hoisted you from the carriage into his arms, you didn’t fight, didn’t want to please him further by carrying out the proper ritual. Your feet clanked against the door frame, and he took long strides into the Villa.
It was as you had expected; decorated strategically in bronze statues and climbing flowers that veined through the white walls; you gazed at the pool as he carried you through marble pillars.
His chambers were just like you expected; a big white bed with blankets as reds as his war cape, a thick brown closet and some paintings adorning the white walls; War, Ares and…Hades and Persephone.
He dropped you into a Lectus couch; another wedding tradition. The mattress felt soft against your sore body. He dropped too, caging you in his body, the gold embellishments scratching your skin as he dipped his nose to your neck, inhaling your scent. As you took a deep breathe, you smelled now leather and pinewood; he took the decency not to use Lucius’ perfume.
He looked at you with blown out eyes, so dark and menacing that they didn’t even look brown. You looked back at him, gaze unfaltering, and studied his features for any remorse. The scar on his cheekbone, the gray and white streaking his dark hair, the way his full lips parted beneath his thick beard. For a second he looked vulnerable, weak to his desires and ambitious. You almost felt pity, before his imposing hand reached for the top of your neckline, and the arms that had fallen to your sides submissively shot up to embrace his warm hands.
“Not the dress, please.”
Your voice was so soft and eyes so pleading he felt his cock stir in his loins, he hesitated, the thought of ripping any trace of Lucius off of you far too tempting. The ring you had placed on your thumb glinted at him, mockingly.
“If I grant you this desire of yours,” He spoke gruffly, as if testing you. “will you do as I please?”
You doubted what he meant, he can’t get worse than what he has already done, you thought. Still, the knot tightened in your throat as you nodded. Humming, he opened the arm that caged you to the room and allowed you to slip out. Carefully you undid the laces, letting the silk spill down your legs. You had turned around to do so, and couldn't muster the strength to turn around once again, couldn't face his hungry eyes.
As if knowing, he stood behind you and you felt the familiar clink as he disrobed himself; it brought tears to your eyes, as if reminding you of what had happened the night before and you found yourself wishing you hadn't spend the day sleeping, perhaps that would have made the day go by slower.
Acacius brought you out of your thoughts by pressing his chest against your back; your nape pressed against the swell of his pecs, his hardening cock resting against your lower back, and his fingers begun tracing a line from your thigh to your hip. You stifled a sob.
"Shhh," He cooed, hand delicate against you. "Come on, little girl, let me take you."
The softness in his voice made you cry harder as he pulled you back onto the couch, laying you down like you were some kind of doll, but you felt more like a corpse.
"You look divine." He muttered under his breathe as his big, thick hand rubbed away any makeup that was applied to cover the marks he had left on your neck and chest. He looked delight by his crime. "Even better."
But you just let tears fall down your temples, ignoring his words and touch. He didn't like him; it irked him, he wanted you to fight, it made things more exciting.
"Just get over with it." You mumbled.
Without another word, he dipped his hand between your thighs, expecting to find resistance but you just hoisted your thighs apart. His eyebrows furrowed, still he begun circling your soft spot. It took little until wetness spread through your lips; you clenched your eyes and thinned your lips, head turning to the side.
A fire settled in your core, traveling from your core to every nerve of your body, forcing you to ball your toes and press your nails against the fabric of the couch. A whimper escaped your lips as he pressed two thick digits into your entrance, pumping them rhythmically. His hand forced your jaw apart, allowing him to hear the sounds coming from your throat as he begun to fasten his pace. Your moans accompanied the in and out of his thick fingers, becoming shorter and breathier and ah ah ah.
You felt the knot tightening, as the night before, core probably more sensitive due to the prior abuse. It was about t snap, and your nails suddenly dug into his bare shoulder before he pulled out his fingers with a sudden wet squelch. You found yourself whining at the loss, and embarrassment rose to your cheeks.
He pried your head to look at him, at his wide open mouth grin. From his elevated position, the hand that was previously on your core wrapped around your wrist, pulling it to his semi hard cock.
"Touch me." He demanded, your knuckles grazing the heat of his manhood. He saw your eyes, the unwillingness as you pursed your lips. "I won't be so gentle if you don't do it."
That made your heart skip a beat, so you extended your fingers and grasped it. It felt heavy and smooth, thumb slipping through a vein as you attempted to reciprocate how he had pumped himself previously. His eyelids fluttered and lips made an "O" shape, and his hands planted by the sides of your head. Once again, he was vulnerable. Thoughts ran through your head, thinking how you could hurt him, pinching his skin, punching his balls, tugging too hard, but it only caused you you tightening your grip, eliciting more moans out of his mouth. To your discontent, such pleasure made him more impatient to bury himself into you, so he batted away your hand to align himself into you.
"Wait!" You cried, palms pushing against his shoulder. Brown fell over you, slightly maddened gaze, a silent threat. "Please, give it a thought."
Brows furrowed over his big eyes, confused by your plea. It was stupid, even for you, to ask such thing from him. Gripping your hip, he began coercing his length into you. You shrieked.
"A thought?" He chuckled, halfway inside. "I have given this so many thoughts; thought about it the very own night Lucius left, thought about it every time you sat your perfect ass on that throne, thought about it every night I heard you little paddling feet waltz around the room; thought about barging in and fucking you still."
He bottomed, making your palms curl against him, clenching into his skin as your cunt did the same thing around his cock. Thighs wrapped around his waist as he filled you up, member hitting a soft spongy spot inside you and balls nestling right on top of your ass. He hissed as you lowly muttered, too much too much too much.
It took a deep breath from him to start thrusting into you, now it was too slow, allowing you to feel as his cock destroyed your swollen walls. He let his weight fall on top of you, cradling your head and slipping his arm around your waist.
"Never thought, though, you'd feel this good."
He panted into your ear like a rabid dog as his pace quickened, making your body follow his thrusts and sliding up and down the couch. The stinging on your core wasn't even pleasant; you felt used.
Was this your fate? to be impregnated and made to push out a heir? if it was, why couldn't it be Lucius? Why couldn't he be the one doing this? why had he postponed this so much? You were far from undesirable...
As if realizing you were escaping away, numbing your feelings, Acacius slowed down. You were surprised when he pulled out of you.
"You are making this hard." He ruffed, a childlike complain.
"I do not wish this." You explained softly.
He lifted himself from the couch, and you felt fear. His bulging muscles tensed at his shoulder blades, and he...bent down to pick his clothes?
You stood still, scared that any movement would call his attention as he left the room.
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꒰ 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒's works for 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 . ꒰ main m. / characters list ꒰ ꒱ PROMPTS ⒈ & ⒉ for requests / ... MY 'READERS' PALETTE / ABOUT 𝐌𝐄 ... ꒱ "hit me and tell me you're mine..." | DARK CONTENT |
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✦ ALL I SEE IS RED LIGHTS / ALL I SEE IS DARKNESS { sequel. / II }
✦ PAWN { one shot }
✦ RIBBONS { one shot }
✦ COTTON CANDY POSITIONS { headcanon }
✦ THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS
꒰ series ꒱
෴ THE APPENDAGE { MARVEL & OUTER BANKS crossover }
...more to come.
OH GOSH PLEASE---he is TOO hot
PEDRO PASCAL as CLINT FLOOD in 'Freaky Tales'
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෴ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: This content is dark and very triggering. Minors and easily triggered people, do not interact. Your mental health matters. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
෴ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: MY CONTENT IS DARK AND DARK ONLY. My requests are now OPENED. You can request as many fictions as you want, but you have to check out my CHARACTERS LIST and my WARNINGS first. IF YOU ARE ANON, USE AN EMOJI, SO WE CAN TALK MORE <3. Request via my INBOX. Please, also write a short summary of your ideas, do not just send in the number of the promp and the character. Thank you.
𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 I will use for these: Choking; chasing kink; Dacryphilia (tear kink); fear kink; dv + heavy violence; restraints; manhanding and others. Please choose a few in your request.
"You flinch like that again in public, and I’ll give you a real reason to." (1)
"I don’t remember asking what you wanted, sweetheart." (2)
"You can cry if you want. Won’t change a damn thing." (3)
"That’s the problem with you. You never fucking listen." (4)
"Go ahead. Tell me no again." (5)
"You move, and I promise it’ll be worse." (6)
"I told you to sit down. Don’t make me say it twice." (7)
"You think I give a fuck if you’re scared?" (8)
"I liked you better when you knew your place." (9)
"You’re only still breathing because I let you." (10)
"See how quiet you can be after I slap you around?" (11)
"You can beg if you want. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop." (12)
"Do I look like a man who’s gonna change his mind?" (13)
"At least make yourself useful, baby." (14)
"You act like I haven’t done this before." (15)
"If you were strong enough to stop me, angel, you would have by now." (16)
"C'mon, baby, don't cry...we haven't even started." (17)
"I'll destroy your pretty face of yours if you do that again." (18)
"Come here. Now." (19)
"I'd suggest you returned because if I catch you...you won't like what I'll do to you." (20)
Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn
The Tudors 2.06
「 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐒 & 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ෴۵✵ 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 」
⁎༊෴ 「 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 」 : 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | MY OTHER 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 | 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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⒈ Wiping off droplets of your blood from the floor, knowing he hates the mess.
⒉ Not hitting you when you anger him, waiting until he calms down and you detense.
⒊ Saying you don't want it because you're tired, and he says you're easier to handle then.
⒋ You crying and him kissing you harder.
⒌ Him wiping your tears, saying that you need him.
⒍ Locking the door again after bringing you food.
⒎ Making you pick your own restraints.
⒏ You passing out, but he keeps going.
⒐ Saying you made him do this while cleaning your bruises.
⒑ Telling all your friends and family you are just too dramatic.
⒒ Choking you with the necklace he gifted you.
⒓ Feeding you from his plate while your legs are tied to the floor.
⒔ Making you confess to him while being naked.
⒕ Him slapping the "modern culture" out of your head.
⒖ Gifting you right after an argument, while you're shaking on the bed.
⒗ Making you delete and block all your contacts in front of him.
⒘ Handcuffing you to the bed, you knowing he has to leave for a few days.
⒙ Him finding your "escape" bag and burning it in front of you.
⒚ Beating up your friends for trying to "take you away" from him.
⒛ Him telling you your terrified face makes him hard.
you never miss, i swear. the darkness is everything , i genuinely can't WAIT any longer for the next parts 🗣️😫
under his grasp
Pairings: Dark! Suitor! Marcus Acacius x Queen! reader
warnings: noncon, cheating, victim blaming, oral (f receiving), threats of rape (not to reader), noncon insinuations (not to reader), breeding kink, unprotected p in v, violence, etc
series masterlist
Seeing he had gone for good, you had dressed back into your wedding dress as it was the only comfort and clothes you had and decided to sleep in the marital couch, too scared that crawling in his bed would give him any ideas.
Morning came and you were up earlier than expected, sleep being scarce and more frightening than being awake. As your gaze searched around the room, the thick body of Acacius laid pleasantly in his bed. You tried to sleep longer, but handmaidens bustled into the room ready to prepare you for the first day of you endless nightmare.
They were quiet, Acacius’ handmaidens. They greeted you shyly, perhaps unknowing how to greet a Queen, and presented you a lavish turquoise gown; you allowed them to dress you as some stirred Acacius awake, but he batted them off, grumpily.
“I can dress myself.” He groaned, and you could tell that after he left you the night before, he had drunk.
Certain handmaiden caught your eye; she was young, similar to you physically, and she stood close to you. Her movements were timid, perhaps even more scared than the others. Your eyes followed her as she left the room.
True to his words, Acacius dressed himself in more casual robes; a beige picta. The silent was deafening, casting shadows over the dawn as you sat still, unaware of what to expect.
“When are we returning to the Palace?” You managed your courage to mutter, and Acacius finally posed his tired eyes on you.
“When you learn to be a good wife to me.” He answered sharply. “A husband cannot spend his nights looking for solace in another’s woman’s embrace.”
His words felt thick around him, his eyes glaring daggers. You felt a knot in your throat.
“Was that what you did after the events of last night?” You dared to ask him. He hesitated for a while, you could see it in his swerving eyes.
“Do not blame me, you decided not to comply.” He responded, and his feet padded closer to you, his broad figure becoming bigger and bigger.
“That didn’t deter you the other night.” You bit, rage lacing your words. “and I guess that didn’t deter you yesterday, as I can’t believe your other woman was whorish enough to sleep with a newly wed man.”
He chuckled at your words, pleased in his fantasy that you were portraying jealousy. “You would be surprise by how many girls like you dream of pleasing a General as myself.”
If that was true, then it felt unfair. For him to take you, just to dispose of you later, felt unfair. It all felt like a twisted joke, because despite not wanting him, he had done all of this for a reason.
“But just so you know,” He added, a sly grin on his face. “the one I bedded last night wasn’t compliant either.”
It felt like salt on a wound, and your face twisted into a bitter expression. He enjoyed it so much, the fight, your hatred, it fueled the fire in his loins.
“You are disgusting.” You spat, rising to your feet. “I cannot fathom how you portray yourself as the Hero-”
A sharp slap cut your words short, sending your face to the side as you gasped. His grip fell again on your face, now slightly more tender as he forced you to look at me.
“Oh, I am no Hero,” He sneered. “I am far more than that, I am your God now, and like Gods, I do not preach morality.”
You felt weak once again, but hatred still run through your veins as you glared at him. Your cheek stung.
“All this fighting has made me wanton.” He confessed, and your eyes widened in fear of his words. “after all, we must give Rome a heir.”
“You will be crowned King shortly,” You ushered, perhaps pleading. “you can have bastards and make them heir.”
He tutted at your excuses. “But I want you, darling; our heirs will rule Rome.”
“Why does it matter anymore?” You questioned, seeing impatience running through his features.
“Enough.” He barked, letting go of your chin. “Get on the bed.”
What if I say no?
What if I scream?
What if I comply?
Your mind raced, and he grew angry but you stood your ground. His lips almost curled into a smirk as he grabbed your forearms, as bruising as he had done the first night, and begun moving you towards the bed.
Your instinct kicked in, and you fought because complying was too humiliating for you. Kicking and clawing came to no avail as your back hit the soft, tousled fabrics of the bed.
“Are you going to behave or do I need to tie you down again and fuck you like a breeding mare?” He barked, and your arms grew weak under the threat. His gaze fell over the pretty dress that you wore, and he fought the urge to rip it apart. It was new, and a gift to you from him.
He opted for lifting your skirt and producing his manhood from beneath his robes. You didn’t want to look at it, feeling its weight on your leg was enough to tell you.
Your arms had fallen limp against the bed as he forced your thighs apart, presenting your cunt to his eyes.
“I realized I had forgotten something,” He confessed to you, and your mind screamed. “did not taste you properly yet.”
His dark eyes were set on you as he lowered his face to your exposed core, a pink tongue darting from his lips and licked a line along your seam. A whimper escaped your pressed lips, thighs shaking, and his mouth latched to you.
Like a man starved, he sucked your most intimate part, sending shivers along your body. Your nails dug into the covers, begging someone or something to stop the pleasure he was eliciting so darkly. But your hips buckled, making him even wilder as he thrusted his manhood into the bed. Like a man on a mission, he constrained his desires in order to get you to submit beneath him, which perhaps brought him more pleasure than the act itself.
A hand that was spreading your thighs apart let you free, but the limb curled itself into you, presenting yourself as soft mewls and squeaky moans left your lips. His fingers tangled themselves in the slick mess of arousal and saliva, pushing through your swollen walls; you jerked as he curled them inside, working your clit with his tongue.
There was a slight pain from the pressure, but it fueled the heat you felt, nipples pebbling against the silk of your dress and electricity jolting through you. Your thighs shut around his head, thick curls slightly matted from his efforts, and he knew.
A hand on your hip, holding you still, and now his digits thrusted in and out, fucking you until your legs wrapped around his neck, and you felt pressure relieve as you shot slick arousal directly into his face.
You didn’t care to try to reason what he had forced your body as you fell, spread, on the sheets, eyes lidded and throat hoarse from the war cry that had erupted from you.
Through your blurred vision you saw him rise on top of you, wiping you from his lips and face as his devoured all the essence you had poured onto him.
“No-” you whined as you felt the engorged tip of his cock pushing against your abused folds, hands rising to push at his chest.
“Come on, dumb girl,” he muttered at your skin, a hand gently taking your wrists above your head as the other propped your leg over his shoulder, letting himself slide right in with a pleased grunt. “I have pleased you, now do your duty.”
He sheathed himself in with a hiss, head bobbing back as your overstimulated core clenched around him. The sting had dissipated, and shame rose to your cheeks as you felt a need for it. The feeling, of needing to be fucked, pitifully reminded you of those nights along Lucius, the ones were his body heat felt like forbidden fruit, were you craved he would touch you, and were you would feel shame burn on you the next day as wild images blurred your thoughts.
But Acacius wouldn’t let you feel that need ever again, that you knew. He was an animal, biting into your soft skin as he rutted into you, as if trying to get closer. In a way, his assault felt like his desire to imprint on you, to make you yours, thing that he wouldn’t let you forget as he groaned and moaned it into your ear.
“There you are,” he mumbled, almost whispered, tightening the grip around your wrists unconsciously. “being fucking good for me, letting me fuck my wife.”
And you could fight it, you howled like a bitch in heat beneath him, letting General Acacius breed you despite the tears in your eyes. Your leg muscles stung beneath him, splayed like whore, for what felt like hours.
“Gonna finish inside you, paint your walls,” He panted into your ear before nibbling on your lobe. “gonna fuck the heir of Rome into you, dumb girl.”
True to his words, his pace picked up even more as he decided to finish the job. His grip snaked to your lower back as he pressed himself into you with a guttural groan, and you felt his sticky wetness inside of you, coating you; something you couldn’t clean up.
Perhaps this was for the better; the sooner you’d give him a heir the sooner he wouldn’t have an excuse to do this. But you knew that fantasy was unrealistic. Acacias had no excuse for enjoying the act so much.
His weight fell over you, shortening your breaths as you finally peered your eyes open, gaze cut by the mountains of muscular flesh of shoulder and back. The simple robe he had placed slipped from his body, and you felt sweat dampening as his torso pinned you down. His hand unwrapped his grip, knitting his fingers with yours. You begged he didn’t fall asleep.
But he didn’t, and you were grateful for that. Knowing he was crashing you, he tossed his body beside you on the bed. The silent rang in your ears; anticipation heavy, until he spoke.
“Each time you displease me, or deny me,” He said, threat and decisiveness in his voice. “I’d like you to think of our first night, and I’d like you to remember the pretty faces of the handmaidens I have here, at my power-and to know that I was considering you a Queen at the time.”
He had made his words clear.
YOU ARE SO KIND OMG THANK YOU! 😭🙏
Can i request a rafe cameron oneshot please? With daddy kink, something like Rafe manipulating reader into believing he's the only one who would love her since not even her dad loved her, it can start with them figthing and making her cry just to console her with the same hands that hurted her <3
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀʙᴜsɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ; ᴀʙᴜsɪᴠᴇ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ; ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ; ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ! ᴋɪɴᴋ; ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ɪssᴜᴇs; ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ. ᴅɴɪ ɪғ ᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ!!!
ᴀ/ɴ: ᴀʜʜʜʜ, ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ɪssᴜᴇs sᴏ ᴛʜɪs ʜɪᴛ ʜᴀʀᴅᴅᴅᴅ! ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʜʜʜʜ! (ᴛᴀɢ: @rvfecamerons ɪʟʏʏʏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ᴜ ғᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴋɪɴᴅᴅᴅᴅ)
ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
You stand in the dimly lit living room, your heart pounding as you watch Rafe pace back and forth. His eyes, once a soft blue that you loved, now seem dark and unreadable. He's furious. You don't know why, but you assume it's his father. You’ve been building up the courage to say this for weeks, and the words finally tumble out, even though you know you shouldn't say this now.
“I’m leaving, Rafe. I can’t do this anymore.” you whisper, your voice shaking.
The air grows still. Rafe stops pacing and turns to face you. His jaw tightens, and you can see the fury building behind his gaze. You take a step back, regretting your choice of words, but it’s too late to take them back now.
You pity yourself. You know you're not brave or smart enough, actually. That's how you felt your entire life. That's why you thought leaving Rafe. He is everything you aren't: smart, rich, admired. You're just the dumb, overly emotional girl who has never been loved. And also...his agressive acts are getting worse, reminding you of your father. And you hate that with burning passion.
“The fuck did you just say?” His voice is low, dangerously calm, sending chills down your spine. You let out a shaky sob, closing your eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall.
"I asked you a fuckin' question!" he yells, the sudden change of tone making you flinch. When you don't answer, he laughs, half annoyed, half patronising.
"Oh, wow..." he says, raising his hands mockingly, "not so brave anymore, huh?"
"w-well..I-" you start, trying to make your voice sound steady.
In an instant, he’s in front of you, his hands gripping your wrists tightly. The suddenness of his movement and the intensity in his eyes make you gasp. His fingers dig into your skin, and you wince, the pain mixing with the terror that’s quickly rising inside you.
“Are you talkin' back, tryin' to get fuckin' smart with me?,” he shouts in your face. You screw your eyes shut, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Your insticts make you pull away, but his grip tightens. "Hey!" he yells, pulling you into his chest, his hands gripping yours unforgivingly. "Open your fuckin' eyes and look at me!" he demands.
When you don't obey his command, one of his hands leaves your wrist and connects with your jaw. He holds your head up, forcing eye contact, and your teary eyes meet his dark ones, sending new waves of pure terror through your body. The grip on your jaw is painful, but not as the flashbacks that flood your mind.
You remember the way your father used to do the same thing when you talked back or refused to do something he asked you to.
Panic makes you choke on air, and you let out a frightened 'I cannot breathe, R-Rafe...'
The room seems to close in around you, and all you can focus on is the pain in your wrists and the darkness in Rafe’s eyes.
He doesn’t seem to hear you, or if he does, he doesn’t care. “You think you can just leave? Okay, do it, baby! Where you goin'? To your daddy's? That used to beat your ass?.” His voice is harsh, making you whimper. His words hurt more than anything.
He finally loosens his grip slightly, just enough for you to gasp for air. But he doesn’t let go. “You’re not leaving,” he repeats, his voice softer but no less menacing. “Do you understand?”
You nod frantically, desperate to placate him, to make this nightmare end.
For a moment, he studies your face, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he releases your wrists. You stumble back, cradling them to your chest, your tears falling freely now. Your heart races, and you feel a cold dread settle in your stomach. He approaches you again, pulling you into an intoxicating hug. You sob in his chest, tears soaking his shirt. He gently soothes you, caressing your back. It feels so wrong, but yet there you are, letting the man that hurt you also comfort you.
"Daddy's here, baby..." he says, the nickname he gave himself lowkey making you sick. "I love you, only me", he says, smiling as he grips your chin and makes you look at him. "I'm your everything, baby. Never forget that. I really love you, baby..." he whispers, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You nod again, unable to find your voice, the fear still gripping you tightly. You know in that moment that things have changed, that you’re trapped in a way you hadn’t fully realized before. And the worst part is, you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to escape.
"It's okay, baby...Daddy's here." he finished, making your skin crawl.
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