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5eraphim · 6 months ago

Text

The Poker Room

Pairing: Lucas Baker x Reader

Rating: X (MINORS DNI GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: yandere, x reader, bondage, gambling, death games, frot, noncon, obsession, possessive/delusional, excessive spit, torture, biting, mind games, piss mentioned briefly (for humiliation purposes), it's Lucas Baker- so overall, unsanitary content ahead!

Word Count: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

TIP JAR

"Course I shoot the gun any chance I get. With blood on my clothes and my hands, I've done it again, I've done it again." (Nicole Dollanganger, Tammy Faye)

"The rational soul is stronger than any kind of fortune from it's own share it guides its affaires here or there, and itself the cause of a happy or miserable life." (Seneca, Moral Letters, 98.2b)

How long have I been stuck here? How many people have I played against? Will it ever end? For hours, these repetitive thoughts ran through your mind. Shackled into a padded wooden electric chair, strapped into place by thick leather belts across both ankles, over both elbows, around your waist, and across your lap. You could move your right arm freely, but your left hand was stuck in place, ensnared in some deathtrap, threatening to end your life in a matter of minutes through painful electrocution. Despite the odds, you managed to win three games of Lucas Baker's version of blackjack. But you'd taken some severe damage in the process, suffering four powerful shocks from the torture machine you were strapped into.

By now, you were forced to watch three other players shocked to death right across the table, less than a meter away from where you sat. Their pleas for mercy, screams of pain, the dull thump of their lifeless heads against the back of their chairs.The scene before you felt too traumatized to be reality. You wanted to believe the last few hours were a morbid nightmare. Yet the ungodly stinging pain in your left arm, the scent of burning flesh, and, of course, that nonstop twanging voice playing over speakers kept you viciously awake.

You would do anything to fall asleep, for any kind of a break after all you'd endured. But your brain remained on high alert, waiting for Lucas to announce the next round at any second, for the room to fall dark as the corpse of your opponent was disposed of and the next player brought in. You couldn't imagine how Lucas could remain watching from another room and rotate players simultaneously. Likely, he wasn't working alone. The idea of another person, completely invisible to you, watching from the shadows, terrified you, and you tried your hardest not to think about it.

Yet, to your surprise, the room fell silent; the lights remained on as you were forced to stare down the dead body of your last rival.

As seconds ticked by, you let your head fall as you sobbed, too ashamed to look at the dead body across the table. Keeping your eyes shut tight, you felt overly tense, just waiting for the dim lights and screens illuminating the room to go out, but they never did. Instead the sound of stock-audio applause played over the speakers. You opened your eyes just enough to watch the screens go from green back to Lucas, looking as wickedly playful as ever.

Slumped back in his chair, he slowly clapped, grinning at the camera, freakishly amused by your misery. Your eyes widened; I've won? The games were over now; you were the last player left alive; despite everything, you survived- whether you wanted to be here or not, there was no one but you and Lucas left alive.

For a long time, you waited, over-tensed with anxiety, for him to break the silence, but he said nothing, just continued to stare you down through the monitor until you couldn't take it anymore. "It's over now- isn't it? I've won?"

Lucas beamed, "Fuckin' A you won! Damn, you're runnin' hot tonight, sweetheart!"

If it's all over, why the hell is he still sitting there? "I get to go home now, right? You said if I win, I will go home!"

He threw his head back with a raspy laugh, "Slow down there! I said if you won you lived, I never said what would happen next."

And just when you dared hope to see the light of day again, Lucas brought you back to reality. The lights in the room suddenly faded to black, and you moaned in despair, almost expecting this meant you were on for yet another round of cards. But instead, the monitors went grey, providing just a bit of low lighting in the windowless room.

Something rustled in a far corner of the room, making the floor creak. It was Lucas; you knew instantly that it just had to be him. But how come you never heard a door open or close? How close had he been this entire time?

The floorboards creaked closer behind you, and your back went rigid with fear as you were absolutely helpless to defend yourself from the maniac drawing closer. Just when you were sure your heart would give out from the fear, you heard Lucas stop, and two long, lean arms slithered from over your shoulders behind the chair, interlocking and pulling your body even closer to the back of the seat as he purred in a nasally, rasp dangerously close behind you. "Watchin' you lay them other bitches out, I just couldn't help myself. Been stroking myself real slow watching you play, an' dam, you got no idea whatcha been doin' to me!"

His hands found your shoulders, kneading them harshly. You winced from the pain, and he couldn't help but laugh, "I ain't ever been so hard in my life!"

Shaking with fear, you felt his hands retract before strolling from behind the chair to stand directly before you. No longer hiding under his usual hood and long pants, he wore nothing but a stained off-white undershirt and red plaid boxers.

With one hand holding onto the back of the chair beside your right shoulder, Lucas consciously planted his knee between your knees and the other leg on the bit of space between your leg and the arm of the padded electric chair, kneeling over you before settling down to sit on your lap. "Game's over now. An' I gotcha all to myself." Wrapping his arms around your neck, he nuzzled against your skin, not-so-quietly moaning at the rush of skin-to-skin contact. It was an awkward position, but that wouldn't stop him now. After adjusting, he found a stable position, balancing his weight over yours. If you had an ounce of strength left in your body, you would've tried to buck him off, but all you could do now was sit back and take it.

Lucas was finally as close as he wanted to be for so long, and you could feel every rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled your scent, breathing in extra deep and slow, making sure you could feel the warm fanning of his breath against your neck. You hardly had any mobility strapped into the chair before, but now with Lucas pinning you down, poking your thigh with his erection from above, you had even less room.

Before you realized what was happening, Lucas brought both palms to the sides of your face, forcing your lips to connect to his. He was awkward, overly excited, and too eager to slip his tongue into your mouth, easily overpowering you into complying. The kiss was intense, needy, and absolutely foul, but you weren't strong enough to break away. Fortunately, it wasn't long until he let go with a loud sigh of pleasure, "Been waiting' too damn long for that!" He panted for a moment, allowing the pleasure of the kiss to wash over him, making his heart beat even faster and his mouth to fill with saliva at the thought of what was to come, mindlessly grinding his hips against yours lazily for a bit more friction.

Burying his head back into the crook of your neck, Lucas was eerily quiet, but before you could wonder why, you felt his hot, wet tongue slide against the thin, sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a filthy trail of spit behind. You couldn't hide the audible sound of disgust you made from this, straining to pull away as best you could.

Lucas chuckled, listening to your disgust. "Still got a little fight left in ya? Whatta ya say, you 'and me, one on one strip poker?"

You couldn't respond but merely moaned in anguish as you felt the repulsive feeling of his sweaty hand begin to grope harder against your thigh; if not for the protective layer of clothing, you didn't doubt his fingernails would dig nasty scratch marks into your flesh. Shaking your head, no, you almost dry heaved thinking about Lucas' naked body.

"Aw, don't wanna? Whassa matter, scared you'll lose?" He snickered; despite the room's low lighting, you were sure he could make out the agony all over your face, no doubt turning him on even more.

His hand moved from your outer thigh inward but paused for some reason, "Hang on, 'the hell is this?" Lucas's voice caught you off guard with an odd note of genuine confusion. Looking down, you saw Lucas' hand on the seat cushion, the space between your legs distracted by something. He probed the cushions with his fingers, rubbing them together curiously before bringing his hand below his nose and inhaling. To your confusion, Lucas suddenly burst into wicked laughter, gripping the back of the chair to keep from doubling over and hitting the floor.

You really didn't want to know what was so funny, but the look on your face must've said it all because as soon as he regained a bit of composure, he pointed back down at the space between your legs, "You're damn good at holding' your cards, too bad ya can't hold your water too!" His lame little joke sent him into another bout of laughter. It wasn't until he pointed it out that you realized what he meant. At some point, while playing, you pissed yourself, and you hadn't even noticed.

The disgust made your skin crawl, and you couldn't help but shudder, feeling your stomach flop, your head going limp, turning to the side, as far away from Lucas as the restricted mobility would allow of you. The act itself was mortifying enough, but his reaction made the pain sting all the more.

Snickering a little, he focused his attention back on you, drawing your face to focus back on him by cupping your cheek using the palm of his clean hand. "Aww, don't be like that- It's alright, you're scared now, it's cute!" Listening to his sinister voice "cooing" felt so weird.

Lucas pressed his forehead against yours, almost whispering, "But you'll come around. I know you will! I saw you lay those sons of bitches out! You're just like me!"

On instinct, you snapped your head away, choking out, "Didn't want to kill anyone… D-don't you dare say I'm like you."

Something about the soft, almost loving way Lucas looked at you made you angry, "Darlin', you ain't playing cards no more; no need to keep bluffing."

Not only was he forcing you to acknowledge exactly what you'd done, but he was proud of you for it, and you were enraged to the point of tears. "Not like you… Never be like you!"

Lucas wasn't listening to what you said. He was too caught up in his own arousal and ego to care about how you really felt. "I can't wait to see the look on the old man's face when he sees you 'and me!"

Relaxing a tiny bit against you in an almost-cuddle, he murmured, "All my damn life folks' been sayin' I aint nothin' but a bad seed, a fuck up, family disappointment, 'nd I always told 'em to fuck right off, but you- whew, you ain't like the rest of 'em."

A beat of silence passed before his lips were back against your neck, feeling up the sensitive skin with his lips and tongue, gently scraping his teeth over the wet patches of spit he left behind. The anxiety of his teeth on your bare skin made you swallow hard, trying desperately to keep calm and not do anything to provoke his excitement or, worse, his anger. It didn't feel arousing, but suddenly, you felt like you were back playing cards with your life on the line. Every breath felt like it could be your last, every movement a dangerous gamble. Lucas still held your life in his hands.

As Lucas worked with his mouth, his hands felt up your body, particularly interested in the places the leather straps met your skin, loving the feeling of the stiff leather contrasted by soft skin. He pulled up at your shirt until he could feel the skin of your waist against the strap connecting your back to the chair, grinding his hips straight down against yours, leaving you nowhere left to retreat.

While a thin man, the weight of Lucas on your lap, his greedy hands against your waist, his stench made it hard to breathe. But the feeling of his teeth clamping down suddenly against your neck makes you inhale sharply through grit teeth while he chuckled in amusement. The pain and surprise made you yelp and squirm even harder in the chair.

Lucas pouted with mock sympathy, "Aw, sorry 'bout that darlin', didn't mean to nip ya. 'Less ya wanted more?"

Without missing a beat, you fired back, "G-go to hell, you little shit!"

Lucas stared at you with the oddest look in his eye and a smile on his face, like he knew something you didn't, "Now, now, I know you're excited, but ya gotta watch that language of yours! Lil' Evie's always listenin'."

Stiffening with discomfort, you whispered, "Always… what?"

"An' she doesn't take kindly to outside folk disrespecting' her family." Lucas didn't bother explaining himself. He was having way too much fun scaring the hell out of you.

But for a moment, you weren't scared; you were enraged, "You all can go to hell!"

"Now, now- you keep on like that, an' someone's gonna hafta teach you a lesson. Learn to be a respectful guest in our home." Lucas chided you as though you were nothing more than a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

For the first time all night, you almost wished you were back playing cards. "Well, if I'm such a rotten guest, why don't you let me go home, you psycho!?"

"She wouldn't like hearing that from ya. Not one bit." To punctuate his point, he disconnected from your skin, and for just a second, you had no idea what he would do next. Until you felt the stinging pain of Lucas' teeth sinking into your neck. Rolling back your head as far as the chair would allow, you let out a pathetic cry of pain, half wondering if this psycho was about to bite your throat off. Your entire body went rigid and tense with pain as Lucas pulled away for a brief moment, only to plant a second nasty bite, almost overtop the first. Pain-filled sobs filled the room as Lucas lapped at the tender wounds. Were you bleeding, or were you already dripping blood? It was impossible to tell.

While not howling with laughter, Lucas clearly enjoyed getting such a strong reaction from you, "H-hah! Oh, darlin', you really are something special, ya know that? Can't- aw fuck! Dunno how much longer I can hold out!"

Just do it! Just get it over with already! You screamed mentally. If there was anything you could do to end the torture faster, you would, even if that meant playing into Lucas' sick, perverted fantasy. It's not like you hadn't spent the past hours doing that. Bound almost entirely in place, there was little you could do to "help" Lucas out in this situation, but that didn't mean you were entirely helpless here.

Spreading your legs as wide as they could in the chair, Lucas' groin fell into place an inch closer to yours, catching him off guard, causing him to stall his rhythm ever so briefly, which you took as an opportunity to rock upwards against him. The friction caught him off guard, made his breath hitch with a moan, and his head to lull back; stealing your resolve, you forced a desperate whine for his attention, silently urging him on. Faster, harder, whatever he needed to do to climax, trying your hardest to convince him it was for the both of you.

"You like that baby! You want more?" He babbled, sounding almost drunk as he found his rhythm again, pounding against you even faster. His sweaty palms latched onto the back of the chair, helping him ground himself enough to dry-hump your lap while leaving messy, wet, open-mouthed kisses against your neck.

Internally, you tried to think about Lucas as little as possible, just like playing blackjack; all you needed to do was play his game until you won. Keep your legs spread as best you could, whimper for him, press your chest up against his, match his movements- as far as you were concerned, this was no different than playing another round of cards.

He was getting louder now but hardly speaking coherently, "M'so close, fuckin' hell! I'm almost there, c'mon baby, keep goin', keep goin'!" And with one final grunt of exertion, he came, fucking your thigh a while longer as he rode out his climax until he collapsed. Leaving the two of you to sit motionless, stewing in each other's body fluids.

Surely, you'd finally endured the worst of the night. At last, you were certain Lucas was satisfied; he was no longer grinding his full weight against you, just limply resting his body over yours. It wasn't a comfortable position, but it was certainly better than before. You croaked in a voice no louder than a whisper, "Lucas… Just let me go, please. I gave you what you wanted. All I want is to go home!"

He didn't look up, his head still resting on your shoulder, mumbling, "I ain't gonna do that."

"Lucas-" You tried to straighten up in the chair a bit, but his weight over yours kept you firmly rooted.

He eventually picked his head up a bit, sounding a bit less woozy than before, slowly coming down from his climax. "No. If I turned ya lose now, you ain't even makin' it outta the fuckin' house before somethin' gets to you first."

A sudden spark of wrath punctured your exhaustion, reigniting your hatred for the man who spent hours breaking you down psychologically and desecrating your body. Through grit teeth, you grumbled, "You dirty little liar!"

He glared at you, sitting back in the chair a little, separating his upper body from yours, "Listen,"

Now that you had a better look at Lucas, you remembered his smug, insufferable face on the monitors, watching gleefully as you were forced to play for your life. You wanted nothing more than for him to feel even a fraction of the pain he caused you. "No! You're a liar and a cheater, and that's why I'm stuck here! You're why I'm stuck here!"

In the blink of an eye, Lucas planted both palms on your shoulders, his fingers gripping you with inhuman strength. With such force, you wondered if his fingernails would break through your clothes, making you wail as you struggled against his grip. Lucas hissed, "Now you listen, and you listen real good, cuz I'm only telling you this once, honey. You don't have half a fuckin' clue what's goin' on outside this house, but I know you sure as hell ain't gonna win against 'em neither!"

As he increased his hold against your shoulder, you cried, fearing he would break a bone, "The only reason you're still breathing' is 'cuz I'm the one keeping you alive, you hear me! And if you step one toe outta this room, you're dead!"

He suddenly let go, allowing you to pull away, crushing your back further against the chair, tears clouding your vision as you tried to control your breathing. You didn't have the guts to meet Lucas' eye again. "I'm doomed."

Lucas' palm found your cheek, not with the painful force you expected, but just enough to tilt your face in his direction, even if you couldn't bear the sight of him, and kept your eyes closed as he spoke. "You'll live. An' you're gonna live as long as I'm here for ya. I don't need the old man or the old lady breathing down my neck no more. From now on, it'll just be us here to look out for each other. We're gonna make it!"

#x reader #not a request #haunted house writing challenge #yandere #self ship #yandere x reader #yandere resident evil #lucas baker x reader #yandere boyfriend #death games #gambling #writing challenge #one shot #resident evil x reader

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