Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You blink up at Eddie as the gramophone begins to skip, trapped and destined to loop until someone resets the needle. The terror of the situation paired with the music makes you feel slightly trippy as your captor leans in for a kiss. You're stuck in this time loop just like the machinery; brain glitching and sending itself into a hazey dissociative state in an attempt to protect you from the trauma.

"Mmmmm, darling...." Eddie breathes, lips ghosting over your cheek and traveling down to press against your ruined mouth.

"So delicious...so fertile..." His voice trembles on that last word, massive hand sliding up to rest against your belly.

"Oh...pardon my ignorance, love...I should treat the fruits of your punishment," he breathes, stretching your bloody arms out to make sure he hasn't doomed you to death via blood loss. Thankfully the gist of the attack was absorbed by your hands, cutting down to your phalangeal bones but not threatening your life.

The wound in your shoulder, however, might be more serious.

You squeak as he twists your torso around to caress it. His thick yet deft forefinger slides down the curled edges of the flesh, and he coos when you scream.

"There, there....I apologize for losing my temper, but you brought it upon yourself," he growls, releasing you and turning away to dig through the bottom drawer of his dresser. Your eyes linger on his half nude form, glancing down at his heavy balls as he squats.

Despite the situation, and due to the dissociation, you find yourself grinding down against the bedsheets as you stare.

You want his babies.

You NEED them.

Eddie stands again, walking back over and unraveling a roll of bandages. His cock bobs as he walks; you moan as he reaches the edge of the bed and it slides on to rest against the sheets. His icy blue eyes follow your gaze and he gives you a wicked grin, snapping the bandages tight and leaning in to wrap you.

"You know, I've heard that different positions might ensure that the child is either a boy or a girl...." he whispers as he wraps your arms and hands, expertly tying off the ends. He stitches your shoulder wound next, working quickly and holding you down through your broken wails and whimpers.

Seems as if his tailoring skills aren't just good for fabric.

"But despite all that, I can't bring myself to stop using my favorite...." His voice is a deep purr; a deadly steel pipe wrapped with velvet. The supplies are swept down onto the floor by a corded arm, which then swings back around to yank you up against his broad chest.

He aggressively squeezes you against himself, hand scrabbling off to the side and finally returning with a glitzy wedding ring pinched between two fingers.

"I'm sure you won't mind skipping the formalities, what with your filthy whorishness," he leers, grasping your left hand in a deathgrip and shoving the ring onto your finger. It's too small, scraping your knuckle as it descends, but the pain is nothing compared to the sharp stinging in your shoulder and arms.

He impatiently picks up a larger one for himself and slips it on, attention finally locking back onto you as you quietly stare up at him.

And here it is. That dreaded, glorious moment....

The conception.

Eddie reaches down and pulls off the turtleneck, tossing the garment to the floor and smirking when you stare. He's much less hairy than you'd expected: a thin, dark happy trail leads to his immaculately trimmed groin, but his chest is entirely bare.

He does aim to impress, after all.

You're snapped out of your thoughts when he lets out a possessive snarl, hand grabbing your face and effectively shoving your entire body backwards into the mattress. His hands are on your knees next, corralling you into the middle of the bed. He climbs on, crushing your left side beneath his solid torso and reaching down to slip a thick finger into your wetness.

"Ohhhhh goddddd, darling," he pants, a slightly crazed look on his face as he starts to pump into you. Fireworks go off between your legs at the intrusion and you can't help but moan.

"Eddie," you breathe, flinching when his face snaps up to stare into yours.

"Say it again. My name. Say it," he grits out, impatiently yanking his finger out and grabbing your jaw in a bear trap grip.

"Eddie," you squeak again, nails scraping against his smooth chest as he rises above you, a strong knee forcing your legs open. He traps you between his arms and shudders when you obediently let your legs fall open for him; a flower blooming against his violence. He looms above you, eyes glinting and jaw setting.

"Say that you want my babies," he demands, tone sharp as the blade that had cut you.

"I want your babies," you whisper, voice almost inaudible against the heavy pattern of rain on the roof. You absently wonder at the face that it must have warmed up enough to not be snowing. "And I want my husband's cock," you daringly add, shocking yourself.

His eyes flutter as you say it, an orgasmic look of bliss settling onto his face as he lowers himself.

"My little wife," he groans, "MINE."

He punctuates the adjective by settling his blunt glans against your tight entrance, a tiny O gracing his lips as his eyes widen.

"So...so wet," he sobs with a shiver.

A thrust, a rock, a grunt. A loud moan from him; a pained wail from you.

And suddenly, he's inside, hot column searing your sensitive nether lips as you whimper. The stretch is almost too much, and a deep ache settles in your gut as he pushes against your cervix. But the pain is morphing to pleasure in your dreamy state; you gaze up at him with glassy eyes as he grunts.

"Hush now, don't ruin it with your womanly complaints, little slut," he grumbles, but his face doesn't look angry. It's relaxed, and almost loving.

His hips are snapping now, slamming his cock into you and battering your depths into submission. The noises he makes are gorgeous; he's much louder than you'd expected. He's groaning, babbling, sometimes almost sobbing. You sob in return, burying your face in his chest as his fists ball up the sheets. The agony and pleasure marry together to create a new sensation: a beastly pleasure that stimulates a familiar build deep in your womanhood.

"My love, my love, my LOVE," he chants, thrusting harshly every time he says that four letter word.

"Eddie....Eddie I'm cumming," you gasp desperately, and his hips slow. He blinks down at you in surprise, looking confused.

"Women can cum?" he asks, looking unconvinced.

You can't help but giggle at the ignorant question, but it's the wrong reaction. Rage twists his features and he abruptly pulls away, your cunt gently pulsing in a needy complaint at the loss of his cock.

"Don't you laugh at me, you WHORE!" he screams, giving you a smack and looking betrayed. "I...I try my best, and THAT'S how you repay me??"

"Eddie, please, I wasn't laughing at you," you cry, shielding your face until he calms and covers you again. But he seems to change his mind, pulling away and dragging you with him. Terrified that he's going to stab you again, you bleat out a loud scream. But you calm when he simply settles you against his groin, lifting your legs up to settle them on his shoulders.

"Yes...I...I suppose you're not lying. After all...you were so sweet to me in the car," he whispers, becoming loving again and reaching down to slip back into your silky warmth.

He's rougher now, an excited look on his face as he fucks and studies you. Your breasts bounce with the harsh force, and you're wailing again as the orgasm rebuilds itself. Blood is still running from your wounded breast, and he reaches out to smear it as he rocks. He licks his fingers when he's done, utter ecstasy painting itself across his face as you claw at the sheets.

"Yes, yes, you filthy whore, MY filthy little slutty wife, cum for me, swallow my seed into your womb and make us a child, a beautiful baby," he moans, head lolling against your right calf as you arch.

He snaps the leash tight and you choke, shock filling you as you writhe. You'd forgotten about it, and apparently he'd been waiting for the grand finale to implement the gear. But the asphyxiation only serves to deepen your arousal, sending you catapulting into your orgasm.

It hits your senses like a bullet to the brain, slamming into you hard enough to make your eyes roll back in your head. You lose control of your bladder and piss yourself, watching him as he stares down at your joining with wide eyes. He looks as if he's having a religious experience; some sort of epiphany as you massage him with your hidden muscles.

"Ah...aha...love, DARLING," he gasps, hips stuttering and mouth falling open as he hits his own peak.

He's silent through most of it, just staring as you feel his warm seed flooding you. But he finally finds his voice, knees buckling as he whimpers and yells out his fixation.

"Darling, darling, DARLING, oh darling, nnngh, ah, you feel so heavenly, oh GOD, oh FUCK," he sobs as it ends, slumping forward onto you and claiming your lips in a desperate kiss. He pins you down for what seems like forever, finally pulling out and frowning as you cringe.

His cock is bloodied, obviously having ripped you at some point during the rape. But this brings a loving smile to his face, a look of awe rewarding you for your suffering.

"You were a virgin...just for me," he whispers reverently as you begin to cry. The convulsive sobs rack your entire body; the fear and pain finally fighting to the surface now that the pleasure has disappeared.

Eddie hushes you but doesn't hit you again, caressing your thighs and whispering in an attempt to get you to calm down.

"Shhh, shhhh...I know it hurts, but just think of the babies," he points out, nuzzling your cheek and finally pulling you up into a sitting position. He leaves you sitting there, but slides his wrist through the handle of the leash and retrieves his turtleneck.

"Here, let's just take you to bed so you can rest," he whispers in excitement, tugging you forward until you slide off. You stand on wobbly legs, collapsing as he huffs in annoyance.

"Fine, I'll just have to carry you then," he sighs, pulling you up into his arms and making his way back to the tiny concrete room. He snaps the cuffs back into place after pulling his shirt onto you, tucking you in and planting a soft kiss onto your forehead.

"Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow morning I'll make you a big breakfast and then we can make love again, just to maximize our chances."

He's beaming, pale face stretched out in that familiar wide grin as he pulls away and finally leaves you alone, locking the door behind him and creaking back up the stairs. Your sobs only worsen. You're terrified of him, but you want him to hold you. To give you something to anchor yourself in reality. You're floating in the darkness of your own head, and nothing feels real.

But you're still alive. You survived.

And if you can survive this, you can survive the rest of the long nights to come.