Nathi ☆
Last update
2021-07-30 16:51:53

    Give In To Me


    Angry at Elizabeth, you go to confront her only to be seduced.

    The Countess (Elizabeth Johnson) x Fem!Reader

    Warnings - Smut, angst, murder mentions, arguments, slight mind-control themes, thigh riding, Elizabeth uses the strap on reader, reader calls her mommy once, it's not much but it's still dirty.

    A/N - Welcome to day 1!! Decided to start with an old request for this. I know this isn't an Evan Peters character but hey she's still hot. This is also like 3k words :))

    It was a slippery slope.

    Slope wasn’t the right word. You were being pushed over the edge of a cut-off cliff after some chase sequence. That was a better analogy.

    After your eyes were finally opened to all of your girlfriend’s -- The Countess or known to you as Elizabeth -- actions by Ramona, you began to find it difficult to feel safe in her presence. And Elizabeth knew this.

    The process of falling out of love was sloppy and messy.

    It starts with a begrudging realization. The moment where the rose-colored glasses are removed and the red flags are once again red. Then, the denial. “This isn’t true”. “She was good to me”. “We love each other. She isn’t evil”.

    The next stage was anger. And that was where you were caught. Resentment, hatred, disgust, bitterness. All of these emotions flooding you whenever she was near. When she touched you, when she smiled.

    Cold blooded killer. Cold blooded killer. Cold blooded killer.

    Elizabeth knew you hated her. She could taste the bitter sourness in your blood. Your blood used to smell of raspberries and cream. Now… it was reduced to dark, staining, nasty flavors and flavor that Elizabeth hated tasting. Especially from you.

    She knew she didn’t have much longer with you. She knew you would up and leave soon enough. And with her being trapped inside of the hotel due to her being dead, she couldn’t risk you leaving for good.

    The only person she had ever loved like this was Valentino. And him dying broke her.

    Sitting on the couch in her penthouse, you await her to return so you could speak with her. You were finally going to break up with her. You couldn’t stand the woman anymore. You tried to make it not obvious, but you weren’t sure how successful that was.

    When she would touch you, you had to close your eyes and float away from the situation. You grew afraid that if you objected to anything she did, you’d end up like Tristan. Or any of the others she had killed to feed off of in the past.

    Elizabeth finally enters the penthouse, dressed in a skin-tight off-the-shoulder red and black dress that had a flowy skirt.

    You hated her but she looked beautiful.

    “Y/n. What’re you doing here?” Elizabeth asks, her suave voice making you shiver. “I came to… to talk, actually,” you say, standing from the couch as you try to keep up a strong facade. She smiles coyly, waiting for you to say what you wanted.

    “We have to break up,”

    Elizabeth looks at you with those eyes that make you feel as though she was reading your every thought like some kind of journal. Like she was looking directly into your soul.

    The silence was heavy as you just stand there, part of you thinking that this would be your demise. “Do I want to know why?” Elizabeth finally speaks, her words softer than usual as that cold demeanor melts off like it usually does when she’s alone with you.

    Swallowing thickly, you speak again. “I can’t stay with you because I know you. What you are,” you explain, your fear coating her tongue like a heavy cream. Elizabeth hums, nodding as she walks over to her tray of alcohols.

    You step back from her, her silence scaring you. “I take it that what I am is a deal-breaker?” she asks.

    Nodding, she sighs at your response, sipping at her drink. Her eyes land on yours once again. “Ramona?” she asks in one word and you nod again, knowing what she meant right away. “What else did she tell you?”

    You shake your head, there being nothing else. “Words, doll,” she says with just a fragment of authority. “Nothing. She told me nothing else,” you verbalize.

    “I will not lie to you. I feel you’ve earned that. Ramona did tell you the truth. But, I no longer feed on blood to live,” Elizabeth says, stepping closer to you. You freeze, eyeing her carefully. Stepping even closer to you, she grabs your hand with her empty one and places your palm on her chest, right over where her heart would be.

    There was nothing. You weren’t sure why, but there was no heartbeat. She cradles her hand over yours, her eyes studying your expression as you slowly figure it out.

    You had known this place was haunted and you knew of ghosts being stuck around for eternity. Like James or Sally or even Liz. But you never guessed the woman you had been dating for seven months to be dead as well.

    Quickly pulling your hand back, you stumble away from her. Your own heart pounds, your skin heating up as you feel that fear course over you again. “No. No, no it’s not true. I-It can’t be,” you stammer out nervously.

    Elizabeth sips at her drink, letting you freak out on your own. “This is crazy,” you mumble to yourself. “You’re dead and we’ve been dating for months now. Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, anger once again resurfacing.

    “I loved you too much to hurt you like that. I didn’t expect to feel like this when we met,” Elizabeth excuses.

    You shake your head, your eyes watering as everything clicks into place. The fact she couldn’t leave the hotel. The fact she never wanted to be photographed. The fact she always coaxed you into staying at the hotel with her.

    “That wasn’t love. It was obsession, Elizabeth,” you fight back.

    She frowns, an inkling of remorse showing on her face if even for a moment. “We had sex. We did all of these things and you’ve just been… dead? The whole time?” you continue, unable to truly wrap your head around the idea.

    Elizabeth nods, setting her glass down on the coffee table before walking towards you again. You step back, only cornering yourself against the wall. She looks at you with those beautiful eyes of hers, reaching out and running her thumb over your cheek.

    “I’m sorry. I couldn’t lose you,” she says in a whisper, her hand cold against your cheek. You furrow your brows in confusion, feeling a tear streak down your face. “You just did, Elizabeth. It’s unforgivable,” you reply in the same tone as she spoke in.

    Pushing her off of you, you go to walk out of the penthouse only for her to grasp your arm. “You can’t just leave. I’ve been your life for too long. Break up with me and you have nobody to go to,” Elizabeth threatens calmly.

    Wiggling in her strong grasp, you try so desperately to get free. You feared she would kill you so you were trapped in the hotel with her.

    “Please,” you beg weakly, your wrist hurting where she was grabbing you. Her eyes lock on yours, a subtle rage burning behind the hazel of her eyes. “One last time,” she says, her words confusing you.

    “One last what?” you question, stopping your fruitless attempts to get out of her grip. Elizabeth smiles softly, her grip giving up as she steps closer to you and kisses you slowly.

    Her lips work with your, her mouth tasting of polar ice mint and the whiskey she had just drunk. You reluctantly kiss back, not sure what would happen if you defied her want. Her hand runs down your side, landing on the curve of your hip.

    The feeling of her lips on your made your heart ache. You’d miss this. Everything about her you’d miss. It was so wrong. She was evil and a murderer and yet you found this macabre comfort in her arms. Kissing her. Touching her.

    Melting into her touch, you two fall into a steady rhythm as you always did. Her right hand on your cheek and her left on your hip, she slowly guides you away from the door and towards the couch without you even noticing.

    Her hands go to remove your clothes all while still kissing. Her fingers grabbing the hem of your shirt and breaking the kiss only then to remove the fabric. Reconnecting the kiss, she pulls your pants down and sits you on the couch to remove them the rest of the way.

    She sits down beside you, your lips still working passionately together. You moan into the kisses as her hand settling between your thighs.

    Toying with your clit through the fabric of your panties, you feel that horrible gut-wrenching guilt rake over you. The woman you’re making out with has killed multiple people. Drank their blood, watched the life drain from their eyes. You push her off of you, suddenly disgusted by her yet again.

    She looked angry.

    Her eyes were darker than usual -- the hazel now looking more like a deep green than blue. Her face was expressionless but you felt the looming frustration of your rejection.

    Unsatisfied with your hesitance, she leans forward and kisses you again, holding you by the back of your neck like some kind of disobedient kitten. You reluctantly kiss back, the guilt making you sick.

    Her hand lands on your breast, squeezing it while pinching your nipple weakly. That previous guilt seems to vanish and you think she had brainwashed you somehow due to how quickly the shame just left.

    Keeping one hand on the back of your neck, the hand on your breast slides down to your waist as she pulls you onto her lap.

    You settle with your legs on either side of her thigh -- your knee pushed against her core in a sort of modified scissoring position. Your body tenses as she subtly bounces her leg so it moves against your clothed pussy.

    A stifled moan escapes your lips, only to be silenced by Elizabeth’s mouth on yours. You buck your hips down into her thigh, the minimal stimulation already making you soaked.

    Her lips move from your mouth down your neck and ending at your breasts. She wraps her lips around your sensitive nipple as she massages the other. You grind your hips into her thigh, the skirt of her dress having been pulled up so you can feel her soft skin on your inner thighs.

    Your fingers run through her perfect hair, undoing her proper hairstyle. Your movements grow choppy and faster as your pleasure stacks up into an eventual orgasm. Elizabeth continues marking the soft flesh of your breasts with her bruises.

    Moaning, you feel every muscle in your body tense up and flex as your orgasm washes over you like a wave of molasses. You throw your head back, riding out your orgasm on her smooth thigh.

    You feel the wetness in your panties as you stop moving your hips. Elizabeth pulls her lips from your breasts, her hands placed firmly on your hips down.

    Pulling your eyes open, you look down at Elizabeth who’s red lipstick was now smeared on her lips. And in turn, all over your chest. She reaches up and pets your hair, her hand running down your warm cheek. “Forgive me, doll,” she whispers suavely.

    Your spit becomes thick at her words. You realized what you had just done. She often used sex to get her way. You knew this. And it worked every time without fail. You had become as much to blame as she was. You were pretending what she did was okay when it wasn’t.

    But for some reason, you didn’t want to run away.

    Instead, you nod.

    Elizabeth smiles that signature innocent yet devious smile, brushing her fingers over your lips that were stained with her lipstick.

    “Good girl,” she praises, moving you off of her and laying you down on the couch. You exhale deeply as her eyes fall onto your panties which happened to be light grey. A color that showed your arousal better than any other.

    She smirks, running her cold, acrylic decorated fingers over your pussy. You squirm, your hips rising from the couch only to be pushed back down. She feels the wet pay off from your soaked panties, excited to pull the fabric off of you.

    Slipping her fingers under the waistband of your panties, she slowly drags them down your thighs and off of your legs until she was holding the flimsy fabric on her finger. You look at your panties in her hand, embarrassed by how wet the crotch was.

    “Only good dollies get this wet,” she remarks, using her favorite nickname on you. You keep your knees together -- Elizabeth now standing over you as you stay laying down.

    “You know what good dollies get?” Elizabeth probes, leaning over you so your face was inches from hers. “W-What?” you ask, your voice shaking from anticipation. She smirks, her eyes scanning your pretty face. “They get the strap used on them,” she finally answers.

    You smile with happiness, taking her hand as she leads you to the bed. She leans you over the edge of her high-raised bed, walking over to the dresser to grab the strap.

    With your cheek resting on the bed, you watch as she strips herself naked and buckles on her strap. The dildo attached was purple and about eight inches long. It was your favorite one so she’d always use it on you but only when you earned it.

    Your eyes take in her naked form. Appreciating how her breasts jiggle as she tightens the black belt of the toy around her waist. She walks over to you, running her hand down your exposed back and over the curve of your ass before slapping your ass cheek.

    Inhaling sharply, she leaves your line of sight when she stands behind you. You stay bent over the bed, Elizabeth behind you as she runs her fingers through your sticky folds.

    Pleased with how insanely wet you are, she slowly pushes the head of her dildo into your pussy. Teasing you by only pushing about an inch in. You squirm on the bed, wanting so badly to buck your hips back against her dildo and have it be rammed into you.

    But you knew she’d tie you up and tease you if you did that.

    Her hands grip your waist, holding you steady as she slowly pushes more of her strap into you. You eagerly accept it, wiggling your hips in response. She chuckles softly, loving your enthusiasm.

    Slowly but surely, Elizabeth’s cock bottoms out in you. Her thighs now touching the back of yours as she stalls deep in your pussy.

    You let out a low mewl, your pussy clenching around the dildo. Pulling her hips back, Elizabeth pushes back into your wet cunt with a rough thrust. You cry out, your voice cracking as a delicious shiver courses through your body.

    Her fingers dig into your skin, helping keep you steady as she starts steadily thrusting into you. You grip the sheets in your hands, overwhelmed by how good you felt.

    She runs one of her hands up the curve of your back, reaching around and gripping your throat in her palm. You moan, feeling her fingers dig into the sides of your throat. You push your hips back against hers, causing the tip of her dildo to jam into your g-spot.

    “Stay still for me, doll,” she instructs, her words low and filled with authority. You whimper in response, your mind too clouded to verbally reply. “Words, or I stop,” she adds on. You swallow, your body shuddering as you reply. “Yes, mommy,”

    She hums lowly, fucking you even harder as if being called “mommy” fueled her fire. She removes her hand from your neck, placing it on the middle of your back to keep you pinned against the bed, using her weight to keep you down.

    Your wetness coats her cock, dripping out of your pussy and making a mess under you on the bed. Elizabeth flips you around so you’re now laying on your back, her eyes landing on yours that were tear-filled.

    Continuing her rough thrusts, your eyes fall to her bouncing breasts, completely mesmerized by how perfect they were. She smirks, amused by your fascination. She moves her free hand down to your cunt, her fingertips rubbing your clit as she fucks you.

    “You’re so wet. I’ve trained you well,” Elizabeth says, smiling proudly as your pussy makes a lewd noise. Your body shakes from the mix of her rubbing your pussy and slamming into you.

    You use your hands and cover your face, embarrassed by how much your legs trembled. Elizabeth reaches down and pulls your hands from your face, placing your hands on her wonderful tits so you had something to squeeze.

    She pulls you up so you’re now sitting, helping the dildo hit your sweet spot even better. Your breasts rub on her torso, somehow stimulating your nipples enough to send you over the edge and into your orgasm.

    “God!” you cry out, your voice weak as a tear streams down your cheek. Elizabeth holds you with one arm, still fucking you through your powerful orgasm.

    As you come down, Elizabeth slows her thrusts down to a stop. You lay back down, exhausted. She pulls her cock out of you, the purple dildo glistening in the light from your slick. “Knees, princess,” she orders.

    You get off the bed and go to the floor, kneeling in front of her and wrapping your lips around her fake cock happily. Elizabeth pushes your hair from your face, giving her a full view of you. Tasting yourself on the dildo, you hum happily.

    Elizabeth pulls you off of the dildo, bringing you to your feet and kissing you deeply. She pulls back first, her eyes landing heavily on yours. “Can we forget all of this? Our argument,” she asks.

    And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what this “argument” was about.

    So you nod. “Yes,”