#cw noncon biting

[necros-writing-stuff]

A Ritual of Blood and Sweat: Collabo'ween Day 11

AFAB!Reader/M!God (Who he is is a surprise, don't check the tags you'll ruin it).

Warnings: AFAB reader but You is the only pronoun; non-con turned very enthusiastic con; biting and marking; bloodplay; a tad of breeding kink; rumours of cannibalism and incest happening in the world but they're not at all shown; a little bit of angst but its okay, they're alright; predator/prey elements.

Word Count: 4898.

Notes: Sorry again that it was a day late! Also Google docs can suck my dick, the grammar is wrong on purpose stop being blue at me. Also also the god is inspired by Hircine from the Elder Scrolls because I've been back in the lore pit, but it isn't him, just inspired.

It was the night the clan had been praying for. The crimson moon hung overhead, its bloody rays piercing between even the heaviest of foliage and bathing the world in its colour. The Hunt was upon them. 

People all around the encampment were energised by the happenstance; drums beating in tune to the Wise Crone's song; red paint being applied in intricate patterns on all of those who would be running through the trees; those who would stay behind preparing a huge firepit to cook what was caught; the children running and screaming or dancing to the music. 

And then there was you. Your woven basket knocked against your hip as you wandered through the camp, weaving through the crowds and responding to the blessed words that would be uttered to you by the rest of the Crones with their falcon-feathered brushes. It was your own great aunt who met you at the edge of camp, brushing your face, hands and the tops of your feet to afford you luck as you stepped into the night. 

She couldn't let you leave without receiving your own painted blessing. The red dye was made up of the blood from the mightiest of beasts the hunters had brought down this year, its colour kept by the berries it was mixed with and the consistency by a clay found on the banks of the White River. Two swirls on your cheeks to bless your eyes, so that you might never miss what you seek. Two more on the back of your hands so that your strength never leaves you. The final two swirls on the tops of your feet so that your pathing remains sure. Your people weren't the only ones hunting tonight. The blessings ensured safety. 

The Father of the Hunt would watch over you as you foraged for the mushrooms his crimson moon sprouted. Your duty was a sacred one. As the youngest trainee of the Crones, still virginal due to your devotion, it was you who would find the mushrooms and bring them back for the feast that would take place at dawn. For every hunter who made it back, the mushrooms granted further strength and cunning to hunt through the year. For those who remained it provided innovation and wisdom, to guide the clan to prosperity. For the little ones it warded against sickness, so that they may reach adulthood. 

The final marking was made on your chest, right in the centre. An arrow, the Father's arrow. So that your heart would stay as true as his aim. Only you would receive this mark tonight. You see, it was a test as well as an honour. In order to progress in your training, your faith would need to be confirmed. Your love for the god who made your people who they are had to be strong. To prove that you'd decided the path of Crone not to avoid marriage, pregnancy, hunting, crafting or any other duty you were relieved of. Should you succeed and ascend, the arrow would be tattooed onto your chest permanently. 

It made you curious how she then pressed her hand to your stomach, leaving a bloody handprint on your skin. "A family blessing," she'd explained, "kept only for first trials as Crones." 

You know the truth of your faith. It is as full as the moon overhead and it keeps your head held high as you step into the forest. The commotion of the clan fades the further you go, but the smile gracing your lips never wanes. Why would it when you knew exactly where to go to find the mushrooms? It was as though the Father himself guided your steps - and perhaps he was. The hunters hadn't left quite yet. He had time to nudge you in the right direction while he also gave strength to the beasts of the forest. 

Bears. Wolves. Boars. Very angry badgers. Foxes. Very… virulent bucks. Just a small list of things to watch out for as you travel. The Father was a fair god. What use was there in making hunts easy? In making them easy, the clan would become weak. Prey had to fight back in some way. His worshippers had to prove their worth by virtue of strength, fleetness or intelligence. That way, the next generation would be even better. 

You are no exception to these tests. While you know where to go, you would have to make yourself scarce. The same beasts your clansman sought would hunt you tonight. 

Weasel. That's what the clan called trainees of your stock. Little weasels. Because you had to be the most cunning of all to survive. Should you succeed, they'd begin calling you a fox. And when you stopped bleeding every moon, you'd be represented by an owl. Wise in your old age. The hunters had such monikers themselves, as did the other folk but their names were more flora based. For the prey you ate and the bounty of the forest you made your clothes, homes, tools and sacred items from were just as important to honour as the Father himself. 

With everything bathed in red, the forest appeared so alien. Shapes blended together, odd shadows being cast as your ears listened for the slightest indication that a beast had found your scent. A branch cracking, or the soft patters of paws on the ground. You could only hear your own footprints and your own breathing for now. Not even an owl hooting in the night. The poor owl didn't do so well during the crimson moon. Its prey was able to see it coming better due to how bright the moon made the night. Hence why the Crones that honoured the creature left skinned rodents hanging from the trees so that they would not go hungry. 

Your solitude was broken by the rushing of the White River. Its rapids were deafening the closer you got, but at this distance it was a gentle hum in the background. A comfort, letting you know exactly where you were and where to go. An ancient grove, with trees older than your people's songs. It was on the rotting bark of the fallen trees that you'd find the mushrooms. You were sure of it. 

By now the hunt would be underway. Spears and bows would bring down many beasts this night. Claws and fangs would see the end for hunters that were unworthy. And yourself, should the Father find you to be lacklustre. It wouldn't be wise to sing and draw attention to yourself, but in your head you heard it. The song of worship you sang for him, detailing his achievements and tales. It kept your bones warm as a gust of wind whooshed past. 

It couldn't keep your hackles from rising when you felt the eyes on your back. 

Something had found you, but you couldn't judge what. You saw no creature when you surveyed the forest. No tracks left by it, either. That didn't stop the feeling from growing evermore the closer you got to the ancient grove. 

A test, you reminded yourself. The Father was simply prodding at your nerves, seeing if you'd run back home like a coward. You wouldn't. You'd take everything he would throw your way. Even as an arrow sailed by your head and landed in a tree to your right. An arrow from a bow who's string you hadn't heard twang. 

Your steps quickened, body going from tree to tree to break up the line of sight of whoever sought you out. Other clans lived in these woods. While your people were friendly with many, trading not only goods but healthy people of breeding age to keep the blood-pools strong, some clans were expelled from the larger community. Cannibal clans, the rumours spoke. Or those who were headed by a single male, breeding with his own spawn and treating them like slaves. Both were outlawed under the Father's guidance. 

No doubt it was one of those cannibals seeking your flesh right now - wishing to feast on you in mockery of your devotion to your god. If only they could understand how He would not allow that. 

Another arrow thunked into a tree, this one many steps behind you. A poor shot, but again you heard no bowstring. An impossibility. No bow, no matter how well crafted, could be completely silent when the arrow was released. It kept the hunt fair, so that a deer could have one last moment to avoid their incoming doom. Had dark spirits granted this hunter a weapon born of their evil? They'd given it to the wrong bearer if they were this bad of a marksman. 

Blessed by the Father, your body danced through the forest, your feet never tripping despite the fear in your heart. His song remained in your mind, quelling every urge to run home and forget the mushrooms. The other clan's weasels would be meeting you at the grove, together you'd have the strength to bring down this cannibal. To let their blood feed the trees that resided there. 

Another arrow, closer this time. Barely missing your leg, sticking in the ground with such force that it broke in two. No bowstring sang. It was too late, though. You'd found where you were looking for. 

Taller and taller the trees became, thicker in body until they were so large a clan could hollow one out and live inside. One clan used to, its remains right in the centre of the grove. That clan is gone now. No one knew why. But it was their home you sprinted to, prancing over the rocks in the clear spring pool that surrounded it. Right in the middle it stood proud, still growing and flowering despite the emptiness of its core. 

The mushrooms were indeed growing on fallen logs as you rushed past, but they'd have to wait until you could harvest them in peace.

Scrambling inside, your hands gripped the carved bark so that you could climb to a higher floor and wait for your cannibal to come after you. You could drop down on them from above, could pierce their neck with the bear-bone dagger you unclasped from your belt. Your basket was left behind, bait to draw the cannibal closer. 

No other weasel had made it here yet. You were early, a point that filled you with pride. The Father truly did favour you tonight. 

You found a ledge hidden in shadow. Everywhere else in the forest, you could not escape the red light of the moon. This ancient tree was the one exception, as though it was imbued with magic that kept it from even the Father's sight. Perhaps another spirit was worshipped here. Perhaps the clan died out because they did not see the wisdom of the Father. Apt that your cannibal would join them. 

Shivers danced along your skin as you waited, knife clutched tightly as your eyes carefully watched over the entrance. Silence returned to the night, a curious companion for the anticipation that bubbled within. 

They did not come. Not for what felt like hours. Your fingers fatigued in their grip, your legs begging for you to move as they grew numb from being still for so long. A smart cannibal, then. They knew you were waiting. They knew a fight would come should they step foot in the tree. You had patience, though. You would wait. 

Even when the scream pierced the air, you did not move. A horrific scream, likely that of another weasel who had fallen to the wretched cannibal. They were not worthy to complete their ascent. Nor was the next you heard wailing for the Father to save them. 

Their mistakes would not be your own. They felt safe here, surrounded by the sacred mushrooms. They forgot that the Father granted no breaks. You would wait until the first crack of dawn if you had to. You'd go home with the smallest bounty. Everyone knew that surviving was the true goal. 

What use was a Crone if they could not apply His wisdom practically, as well as in spirit? How would they guide the people with only thoughts that lacked experience? It was a marvellous test, indeed. The smartest hunter sent to make the smartest Crones. 

Something you were not, apparently. A heartbreaking realisation that sank like a blade in your heart as a real blade pressed to your neck. 

"Here you are," a deep voice rang by your ear. "I didn't think one so devout would tread in this place. Everyone else fears it." 

Your cannibal urged you to stand, still keeping his knife to your throat as you struggled to your feet on weary legs. They ached dearly from your stillness, those lightening-like pricks fluttering through your skin. You should have moved just a little to keep them strong. 

How had he gotten behind you? There was only one way into the tree. Had the same dark spirits that had granted his bow given him other gifts? 

Your knife was taken from you easily despite how tightly you held on. His strength was far greater than your own. Your mother had made you that blade. She made the basket that it was tossed into, too. The basket that would be left there, no mushrooms filling it. 

"You're the only one left, little weasel. Your cousins all fell. A bad stock this year, hm?" 

'What a boar's ass,' you thought. Gloating in his depravity, amused that he was the superior hunter despite his banishment from His favour. Such a wretched man, indeed.

"It isn't honourable to play with your prey. Slit my throat and have it be over. I'll be with the Father in his hunting realm." You hoped. Dearly, you hoped that He wouldn't cast you aside for falling prey to this man. 

Tears pricked at your eyes, water welling further when your cannibal laughed. His forehead pressed to the back of your skull, a deep sniff cutting off his joy as his free hand came to press to your belly. Right against your familial mark. Right against your aunt's blessing. His hand was so much larger, eclipsing the paint and your hope along with it. 

"You're already with the Father, little weasel." 

That hand tore at your furs, hiking them up your thighs and diving between your legs to violate your core. A thick finger plunged into your cunt as you screamed in frustration, pulling at his blade hand with all of your might. 

More laughter. More mocking as he willingly took the blade away and tossed it down to lay with your own. 

"My body belongs to my god!" A wail that betrayed your heartbreak. A wail that was as feral as your fighting, body contorting and flailing as you aimed to kick, hit and scratch whatever you could reach. 

"I know, little weasel. That's why I'm taking it." His smugness refused to subside. What reason would he have to be humble when he so easily kept you in his grip? 

When your head reared back, aiming to smash into his nose, you met only the hard muscles of his chest. He was tall - tall and possessed by the strength of a bear. 

With one arm pressing against your own chest like a fallen tree pinning you to the ground, the cannibal had no issue controlling your body while his fingers corrupted your core. He was like the wind, reaching everywhere and leaving no part untouched. Leaving a chill in your bones where there had once been warmth. 

'I'm still fighting, Father. Please grant me the means to make it home." Would he hear you tonight? Would he grant you your own twang of the bowstring, your own last chance? 

The wet shlucking noises from between your thighs betrayed His answer. He wasn't coming for you. He had left you as he had the other weasels. Your body was no longer deemed as worthy. Your spirit was too weak. 

Bile scoured your throat, not easing the painful burn that had already made its home there from your wailing. Your cannibal had staked his claim with his hands alone. He had brought you a pleasure you were never supposed to feel. One you had forsaken to serve the Father. 

Your cunt grew as wet as your tear-stained cheeks, the fight seeping from your body with every flick your cannibal made over that little button at the top of your cunt. The markings on your cheeks were ruined by your crying. The arrow on your chest smudged by his arm. At least the markings on your feet stayed, keeping you upright instead of collapsing like a frail dry sapling in a storm. 

"You belong to me, little weasel. You always have, and you always will," he whispered before his teeth sank into the flesh of your neck. Such sharp teeth, breaking the skin and marking you in his perversion of the Father's ways. 

When couples would marry, two kisses would be placed on either side of the bride's neck, the locations tattooed by the Wise Crone with the animal that the husband's family held dearest. Then the bride did the same back, and her animal was placed on her husband. From then on, their hair would always be tied up or cut short so that everyone could see their love. 

The animal on your skin was just a beast of a man. 

"You'll always belong to me." A snarled declaration, your blood smeared against your skin where his lips and tongue trailed. 

When he moved you to the floor of the ledge, you expected him to take you from behind like the wild beast that he is. That your knees would scrape against the bark and bleed as your neck does under his brutality. He did not. 

Your back hit the bark as he climbed on top of you; his impossibly strong hands ripping through your furs and throwing them away until you lay bare and frozen. What was there left to fight for? 

The glaze in your eyes made him hazy, his face still a mystery you refused to unravel. Even as he lifted his loincloth, drawing out his cock and coming to press it into you. 

Waiting for it to be done, you let your head fall to the side, finally blinking the tears away. The red rays of the moon still bathed the forest outside. A lone mushroom could be seen just waiting to be plucked on the carcass of a tree. It was the biggest mushroom you'd ever seen. They all would have been so proud if you'd brought it back. 

"Look at me, little weasel. I'd have my bride look at me when I take them." 

You don't. You keep looking at the mushroom, and in your mind your spirit is lifting from your body and reaching out to collect it. 

His hand grips your jaw, pulling your face to his. Your pupils stay locked on to the outside world, locked on to that tiniest slither of hope. What if the hunting party came through the grove? What if someone braved a glance into the ancient tree and saved you from your cannibal? Would the Father let you stay then? 

"Look. At. Me." 

No one was coming. Even if they ventured into the glade, your cannibal was right. Everyone feared the tree. They feared that dark spirits would curse them if they came too close. They must have cursed you tonight. 

You looked. He didn't give you the chance to look away again before he sank deep into your cunt with a single, splitting thrust. It burned like your throat did, only sharper and more painful. The pain couldn't distract you from what you saw. It couldn't stop a song surfacing in your head about the Father. 

Dark hair, left long and wild. Green eyes, that would shine through the brightest light. Sharp fangs, a predator true. Patterns swirling in skin, to hide from view. 

"There we go, little weasel. You see who claims you? You see what your devotion brought?" 

A staggering breath escapes from your lungs as the tears well once more. His hand caresses your stomach again as he leans down to nip at the other side of your neck. You let your head fall back, exposing the skin for him to feel. To place his mark where he would like. 

The pain feels like a gift when he bites, your whimper a thank you when he licks your blood and continues peppering your skin with his affections until his lips meet yours. Such a sweet taste, such a deep, strong bouquet that blesses your taste buds and sends you into a heady spiral.

Where there was once a burn at your core, a throbbing need takes place. Where the energy had drained from your body it came back tenfold, urging your hips to buck against his own. 

"Sweet little one, what do you think this means?" His words are spoken against your mouth before he pulls away, head nodding down to your stomach where the hand print has been smeared all over your skin. 

Your throat catches as you speak. "I- I was told it was a family blessing." 

The Father of the Hunt chuckles, forehead coming to rest against your own as he takes your scent in again. 

"Your aunt always was one for tricks and lies." 

Elaboration is forgone for the thrust of his hips, pulling back and delving deep enough to have your lungs seize working for but a moment. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, the pleasure so great you may just faint. 

"I paid your Wise Crone a visit last night. I told her to place this mark upon your belly so that you'd know what would await you on this Hunt. That you'd come to be my bride." 

His movements continued, stealing your voice from you as you listened to his words. You could barely think, so deep in his spell had you sank. 

"I heard your every prayer. Every poem you dedicated to me, I cherished. Every dance you performed in my name I saw." 

His fingers swiped the blood from your neck, taking the ichor and painting his own blessings on your skin. But there were more symbols, far more intricate than those of your clan or any other. His touch was so warm.

"I've hungered for you since I first saw your beauty on the day your maturity was celebrated. For I knew then that your soul had been reborn." 

Biting into the flesh of his forearm, the Father let his own life force trickle down his arm. It was taken, used to paint more blessings on your belly and over your heart. 

"Reborn?" How difficult it was to speak when he made you soar so high, your back lifting from the bark as you yelled out when his cock pressed forward. Tightly, you held onto his shoulders, needing to feel his warmth to keep you from passing above the clouds. 

With a wave of his palm, the wounds on your neck healed. You could feel how the scars were left when he traced each print of his teeth. There was no need to do so again with his own bite, the openings knitting closed in front of your very eyes. 

"The songs know nothing of this place. Of how I lived here, with you, so long ago. Of how you were taken away from me by jealous spirits, kept from my realm - our realm. But I always knew your soul was too strong to be held forever." 

Kisses come again, desperate and longing. His tongue dances with your own, that lovely taste chasing away the pain you felt in your heart at his tale. 

"My love," he sighs it like a prayer. "The darkness that hides me as I hunt. The moon that guides my way. The very blood that keeps me alive." 

Overwhelmed in the best possible way, your bite down on your lip, surprised to feel the pricks of sharp fangs piercing the flesh. Running your tongue over them, you find that they have somehow changed. That they have somehow become like his. 

Lifting from the bark, you meet him as he comes down again, your legs wrapping around his waist as your own teeth aim for his neck. His blood tastes even better than his tongue, filling your very being with a strength that no mortal ever should experience. You don't wait to mark the other side. You have to do it now, you have to show him the love you feel bursting in your heart. 

The way he moans when you mark him is animalistic, his pace quickening and his grip on your waist harsh. As though you'd slip through his fingers. 

"Say my name, love. You know what it is, please. Please say it." 

No other being would ever hear him plead to them. This, you knew. His softness was for you alone. 

"Please, love. Let me hear it."

The blessings he'd painted into your skin had been absorbed, the forms moving to resemble the camouflaged coats of animals. Just like his. Your truth being restored by his blood.

"Eden," you sob as a wave crashes through your body, your muscles spasming as your cunt clenches down on his cock, wanting to milk him for every drop of seed he'll give. 

Hearing his name spoken for the first time in several lifetimes must have been too much for him, as Eden follows your fall right in the middle of your own. Your name is spoken, it is repeated over and over again as he gives you what you want. 

Still, he moves. Ensuring that every last drop is emptied inside before he stops to peer down at you with those bright, loving eyes. Eyes that say they almost can't believe what they're seeing. 

"I came home." You never wanted to leave it ever again. 

"You came home." He held your palm against his cheek, his eyelashes tickling a finger tip when he blinked. 

The crimson rays of the moon began to creep into the hollow tree, bathing you both in the warmth up on the ledge. You used to keep a shelf of herbs on this ledge. You remember that, as you remember other things. Like the fire you kept below on a bed of rocks, warming your home. How pelts of fur had been draped over the entrance to offer protection against the elements. A few ledges up it led to a grander overlook, where the furs of your bedding had been. 

"You certainly let the place go," you giggle as you look around. 

Eden huffs, holding his body up on his forearms so that he is no longer crushing you. Not that he needs to, you love to feel his weight on you. Your marking bites that you'd left on him are still healing, the new overlapping with old, old scars you'd left in a previous lifetime. 

"Been living out in the forest. Didn't like living here alone." 

With the light, you can see him properly. He's mostly as he was back then, though non-mating scars litter his skin now. One crosses his nose. And his beard has grown quite a bit. He's handsome with his beard. How come he'd never grown it out back then?

"They're from avenging you." 

Humming, you trace each scar, thinking of all of the spirits that had seen to your downfall. How many of them had he killed? How long had he hunted them? How close had he come to joining you? 

How much had you missed?

"Don't think about them, love. They're dealt with. You're safe with me now. We'll get back everything we lost, I promise." 

"Starting with cleaning this place up, I should think." 

Your Eden was always so serious, a grounding force, while you brought the lightness he needed. A perfect balance. 

"And you'll apologise for killing those poor weasels. And give the clans the mushrooms personally. Your sense of mercy has waned in my absence." You finish the sentence with a tap on the tip of his nose. 

Your hunter growls, hiding his face against your chest. "Back for less than a day and you're already whipping me into shape. And I didn't kill the weasels, that was those cannibal twats. Who I did kill." 

"I thought you said you were happy to get back all that we lost? That includes my bossiness, I think. And thank you, for killing the cannibals." 

"Should have killed the one hunting you quicker, but the fucker had these pelts on him that my arrows bounced right off of. Nearly hit you a couple of times thanks to that. Got him in the end, though. Drowned him in the river and sent those cursed pelts down with him." 

Chuckling, you twist Eden's hair between your fingers, carding through the locks with your nails and scratching his scalp until his body melted against your own. Most of his body, that is. One certain part stiffened at your attention - that part still inside of you. 

Eden's head lifts from your chest, his gaze predatory. "The people can wait till the sun rises. You've been worshipping me all these years. Now it's my turn to worship you." 

#spill my guts #collaboween #necro's fics #cw noncon #cw biting #cw blood #cw pred prey #cw breeding #for everyone in the tags trying to find out who the god is before reading hi #naughty little rascals #its #eden the hunter #who else would it be this is my blog of course its him

[brutal-nemesis]

An All Organ-ic Buffet

Okay well. This is in one of @galaxywhump and I’s 120 AUs I gutted (hehe) the context you don’t need it besides the fact that this Castys hasn’t ever really been tortured before so he’s not as used to all of this as he would be in canon <3 sucks to suck, dumbass

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: gore. so much gore. also Castys gets eaten (but it’s a monster so not really cannibalism), a little noncon touching, there is a snake, the rib crowbar shit that i was born to write (❁´◡`❁)

This was going to suck absolute balls, wasn’t it? It was going to be worth it, it was, but it was still going to suck balls. 

The phaitenri lived pretty far from, well, anything, which was probably for the best given its…unique diet. Which was really the only thing that made Castys certain he could strike a good deal with it at all, honestly. 

Having arrived at the caves where the phaitenri made its home, Castys ran through the list of things to say and not say in his head before steeling himself and knocking on the door. A few tense moments passed before it opened, and Castys did his best not to flinch at the sight of the phaitenri. They were annoyingly tall, towering over Castys, bleached-white skin webbed with black cracks, their red eyes boring into him. Most notable, though, were the golden antlers sprouting from their head. What Castys had come for.

“I’ve come here to make a contract with you,” Castys blurted, the promise of a contract protecting him from being outright attacked. The phaitenri’s eyes narrowed, slitted pupils contracting in their different-colored irises.

“Fine,” they growled, their clawed hand curling around the doorframe, “which organs are you willing to part with?”

“Uh…all of them? As many as you want for six inches of antler.” 

They cocked their head. “All…you can’t form a contract for anyone but yourself, human. Do you intend to die for this?”

“Well, see, that’s the thing, I am, uh, what the kids call…immortal. So if you kill me everything’ll just grow back. Seriously, you can have as many organs as you want from me.” The trade was starting to sound more and more horrific as Castys talked, actually saying it out loud, but what could he do? This was the only way to save Berkeley. He had to do this.

The phaitenri crossed their arms, tapping their fingers as they leaned against the doorframe. “How do I know you’re not lying? Give me a demonstration.”

“I will not. At least, not until the contract’s formed.” The phaitenri glared at him. “What? Dying leaves me basically defenseless, I’m not just gonna let you kill me and then take me prisoner, ya know? Look,” he sighed, “if I’m lying, and I enter the contract with you, I’d just die, yeah? The contract would be dissolved, and you wouldn’t be out anything. There’s no reason to refuse.”

After considering it for a moment, the phaitenri straightened, gesturing for him to enter. “Alright, human, I’ll form a contract with you, so let’s negotiate.” Castys followed them inside, slightly relieved that they weren’t just going to dismiss him outright. “I’m Aleph, by the way.” That was a good sign, too, that they told him their name, since it meant that they were very interested in forming a contract with him.

“Castys,” he replied, showing his interest right back. They smiled at him, displaying their wicked-sharp teeth, teeth that would soon be…mmphf, don’t think about that right now. Think about Berkeley. He was doing this for Berkeley.

Aleph sat down at a mostly-empty desk, gesturing for Castys to sit across from them. He did, and it felt…weird, like he was getting ready to discuss a bank loan or something stupid and not, like, having his organs eaten by a monster so he could get a potion ingredient to save his best friend’s life. After thinking a bit, Aleph spoke up, “For six inches of antler, I’ll have you for…two weeks. I can eat as much as I want during that time.”

“Two wee-I don’t have that kind of time! I need to-” Castys stopped, sighing. “One week. That’s the longest I’ll give you.”

Aleph hummed, rocking their head back and forth. “How about…one week, and I can eat as much as I want as well as taking extras and storing them.”

That hardly seemed fair, but…Castys didn’t want to negotiate much more. Typically, the longer talks went on, the greedier phaitenris got. It was usually best to take the second option offered, so… “Alright. One week of unlimited access for six inches of antler.”

“Deal!” Aleph clapped their hands together, grabbing a sheet of parchment and writing down the terms. They signed their name before pricking their thumb and stamping on a thumbprint of their black blood, handing it to Castys when they were done. He took it, reading it over thoroughly, making sure they didn’t sneak in any fine print, before preparing to do the same. “Wait!” Aleph stopped him just as he was about to sign. “Take off your shirt.”

“Huh? Why-”

“The moment you sign that, magic chains are going to appear on your wrists until you’ve served your part of the contract, and even I won’t be able to get them off without dissolving it entirely. And since I’m going to need access to your torso…either take it off now or I’ll have to cut it off later.”

“Oh. Good call.” Castys was glad Aleph had spoken up since he was wearing one of Berkeley’s shirts, and he’d feel bad if it got destroyed. He pulled it off, Aleph’s hungry gaze sending a slight chill up his spine. “Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, Castys picked up the contract again, signing his name and pricking his thumb. The moment his thumb stamped on the parchment, iron manacles appeared on his wrists, just as Aleph had said. The chain between them was long enough that it wouldn’t be a huge inconvenience, but he was still chained, the inescapable reality of the contract heavy around his wrists.

“Well, let’s get started!” Aleph said, giddy as they took the contract from Castys and put it away. Once that was done, they reached out and hooked their finger around the chain between his wrists, dragging him along behind them. They pulled him into a room that was, well…it was pretty clear what kind of things happened here.

The walls were dark, definitely covered with bloodstains, because of course, and the floor was too, even though there was a drain in the middle of it, so clearly things could be cleaned up if Aleph wanted to. There was a table to one side, also bloodstained, with restraints, which wasn’t surprising in the slightest, but the sight of it still made Castys’s stomach turn. Aleph half-pulled him towards it, but then stopped and half-pulled him towards a comfortable-looking and somehow not bloodstained armchair, but then stopped again, rocking back and forth on their heels.

“Oh mannn, I just don’t know,” they whined, looking down at Castys. After a few more seconds, they bent and scooped him off of his feet faster than he could react, holding him in a bridal carry. “I just don’t know where I want to start with you, you know? There’s so many options…” They were looking him up and down, hugging him close to their chest, their bare skin freezing against his. Castys was tempted to make a suggestion so they’d put him down, but he didn’t really know if there was anywhere he wanted them to, ah, start more than somewhere else.

“Oh, I think I’ll start with your tummy. It’s been a while since I’ve had intestines!” Aleph carried him over to the armchair, settling into it comfortably, shifting their hold on Castys so he was sitting on their lap with his back against their chest, and he couldn’t help but shiver despite his efforts to stay still. Sure, he absolutely didn’t want to be sitting on their lap like this, but he was under a contract now, and he was going to serve his side of it as well as he could so this whole nightmare could proceed as smoothly as something like this ever could.

They twisted the chain attached to his wrists in one hand, pulling up and holding his arms off to the side and out of the way, their other hand teasing the surface of his bare stomach, claws scraping his skin lightly. Just as he was about to yell at them to just do it already, to stop driving up the anticipation, their claws turned inward, plunging into his flesh. Castys screamed at the sudden pain, head arching back against Aleph’s shoulder, eyes wide. They grabbed ahold of something and pulled, tearing the gash in his stomach open wider, and, no, no, he couldn’t look, didn’t want to look, he was already stuck feeling the awful pull at his insides, something sliding out of him through the hole in his abdomen, and the noises, the wet slipping, tearing, sucking, biting, swallowing, Aleph’s hums of pleasure, and their hand just kept going back in, pulling out more and more and more, and he didn’t know how much was left, how much he’d had at the start, but his ears were ringing now, vision fading, t-there was so much blood, it was so hot on his stomach and got colder as it dripped down, leaving him shivering and shuddering against Aleph, their tight grip on him never relaxing, pressing him into their chest, feeling his every twitch, and he couldn’t take it, he wanted to worm out of their grasp and run away, escape this awful, awful moment, but he had to be still, he had to let this happen, had to endure this for Berkeley’s sake, he couldn’t give up now, not when they’d just started, he had to do this, even as something squirted out and landed on his face, even as the ringing got so loud it drowned out the sounds of Aleph eating, even as he got so dizzy he wasn’t sure if they were even holding him anymore, e-even as-as…he was empty inside now, wasn’t he? So that was it then. It was. 

It was.

When Castys came to, he was still on Aleph’s lap, still covered in blood, but his stomach was…no, something felt…wrong. Aleph was giving him a look that he could only call concerningly fascinated. Henceforth, he was very concerned as he looked down to see…ah. Well that was. That was new. That sure was new.

His whole torso was all bloody, and that was expected. Aleph’s hand was resting on his chest, arm drenched in red, little strings of ripped flesh clinging to the surface of their skin, and that was expected. What wasn’t expected were the twisted ropes of intestine erupting from the unbroken skin of his stomach. There wasn’t any pain, everything healed up after he’d died, just the strange, disturbing sensation of…this. 

“This is so fun, look at you!” They grabbed the coils of his intestines, tugging at them gently as they examined them, causing him to wince. “You came back to life just like you said you would, and this makes it so much more interesting. I wasn’t planning on eating any more quite yet, but I feel like just leaving this out here would be a waste…If I kill you again, will that fix it?”

Castys gulped. “I, uh, I think so? This has never happened before, so I think as long as everything’s, um, inside when I die, it should be okay.” 

“Alright. I’ll try to be more careful in the future.” Aleph ruffled his hair with their bloody, gore streaked hand, much to Castys’s dismay. He didn’t mind getting dirty, but having his own blood and guts in his hair was a bit much, even for him. “Sorry, I sorta did that without thinking. I’ll let you get cleaned up after I finish here.” They grabbed the intestines hanging out of his stomach, and Castys winced, looking away as they began eating once more, thankfully not with as much voracity as before, but them going slower was almost…worse, in a way. He wasn’t as distracted by the chaos and the pain and the blood, and he could tell just how much Aleph was…enjoying this. 

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how he felt, what he was going through. It only mattered that he was going to save Berkeley. That made all of this worth it. It was just one week. He could handle it. For Berkeley.

He grew used to it soon enough, or at least as used to having your organs ripped out and eaten as a guy could get. Aleph had two large meals a day, one midmorning and one early evening, but they took plenty in between to save for later, so he spent most of the day sliced open and bleeding. Really, it took so much scrubbing to get the layers of dried blood caked onto his skin off each night, but Aleph insisted he wash off, and, honestly, he felt gross enough that he actually wanted to, which was saying something. Wearing his red swim trunks here had been the best decision he’d ever made, since they cleaned off pretty well. He probably wouldn’t be too traumatized by all this to wear them again. Probably.

Probably.

He was lying on the table this time, the chain on his wrists secured to some hook or something above his head. His ankles and hips were strapped down, too, but the worst was the one around his fucking neck.

“Sorry, it’s just that I can’t exactly strap down your chest, so this is the best way to keep you still. Try not to choke?” 

“I’ll do my best,” Castys sighed, wincing slightly as he swallowed under the tight leather strap. 

Aleph giggled. “Before we get started, I think we’re going to need my friend’s help with this one.” They stepped away for a moment, and when they returned they were holding…a snake? A big, shiny, purple snake. They held it up proudly. “This is my familiar, Ileum! She’s a real sweetheart, but her venom makes blood clot more quickly, so she’s going to give you a little bite so you don’t die before I’m done with this, okay?”

Castys swallowed, glad this was happening to him, who liked snakes, and not Berkeley. “Uh, okay.” He really didn’t like where this was going if whatever bullshit they were gonna do required him to stay alive longer than a person should, but what could he do? 

Aleph lowered Ileum until she was next to his upper arm, which was also very close to his face. They tapped his bicep. “Right here, girl!” Ileum stared at him for a moment, unblinking, before striking, fangs sinking in and out of his arm so fast it might as well have been an injection. He still flinched, his arm throbbing like he’d been stabbed with a nail. “Good girl,” Aleph cooed, stroking their snake’s head before setting her down on the ground. Shit, had Ileum just been wandering around the whole time he’d been here? He was surprised he’d never seen her. But whatever, he had more important things to focus on right now. Like the fact that he was probably about to get ripped open and gutted like a fish.

Aleph placed a hand on his chest, taking a moment to feel his heartbeat. While Castys didn’t exactly enjoy the feeling of them touching him, he savored his last few moments of not really being in pain before-ah, uh huh, there it was, claws digging into his flesh, tearing away the layer of skin and muscle over the left half of his rib cage. Castys had seen his ribs a lot in the past few days. They looked how you would expect them to look. Rib-y. Aleph wormed a motherfucking crowbar under one of them, and at that moment Castys decided to stare at the bloodstains on the ceiling. Given where he was lying, it was pretty easy to imagine how those got there, all humans ever did in this room was bleed and scream and-

CRACK

The sound was short, loud, sharp, piercing, nestled in his ears, stabbing through his skull, the nonexistent echoes nearly drowning out the sound of the cries humming in his throat, the leather tight over his neck making him all-too aware of them.

There was pain, too, of course there was pain, sharp and bright and suffocating, and now there was pressure again, the next rib being strained until it snapped, causing him to jerk against the straps, and it was all he could do to keep breathing as his vision started to darken, but unconsciousness wasn’t coming for him, no, just a haze of dizziness punctuated by the loud snap of his bones breaking, all the pain blending together until it was all unrecognizable and painful and awful and very very painful-

“Aw, come on, Castys, look at this!” Aleph’s hand curled in his hair, jerking his head up, pressing his throat into the strap over it so hard he could barely breathe. They tore through a thin film over his organs with a claw like they were unwrapping a Christmas present before carefully pawing his lung aside, better exposing his beating heart. Castys had never seen his heart before, or planned on seeing it, or wanted to see it, but there it was, stupidly still beating even after all of this. “It’s so cool to see it going like that, huh?” Castys let out a choked gasp in response, and that seemed to be enough for Aleph, who let go of his hair, his head thunking back against the table. “I’m gonna drink from it!”

Castys didn’t really register what that meant until they were on top of him, straddling his waist, tossing away the last few pieces of splintered bone before lowering their mouth to his heart, giggling as its frantic beats brushed against their lips.

And then gently, tenderly, they bit down.

Thump thump

Their teeth only went in a little, not enough to kill, as much as Castys wished they would.

Thump thump thump thump

They sat like that for a moment, the throbbing muscle massaging their tongue, fresh, hot blood gushing directly into their mouth.

Thump thump thumpthump

Castys only now started screaming, but not because he could feel anything.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthu-

He didn’t notice the pain anymore, really.

ThumptHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUM-

There was only the figure crouched on top of him, their face in his chest cavity.

ThUMPthUMPThuMptHumPthUMPTHuMpTHUmpTHuptH-

He was so, so grateful when they bit down harder and everything cut to black.

Somehow, he woke up without any noticeable fuckery going on with his ribs, which was cool. Aleph was sitting up now, a mass of…oh, it was the remnants of his heart still in their hand. They must have torn it out before his chest closed up, meaning the one beating inside him now was…not the one he’d been born with. A drop of fresh blood fell from the ceiling and landed on his face, and he switched to gazing at the new constellations he’d added up there while Aleph finished eating. 

That had definitely been one of the worst Anythings of his life, but if he had to do it again for Berkeley’s sake, he would.

 In a heartbeat.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump​ @painsandconfusion​ @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​

#whump #whump writing #castys #aleph #immortal whumpee #gore #snake bite #noncon touching #not many cw huh. because they're all just GORE #cannibalism #to be safe #i have a picrew or two of aleph if anyone wants #they were named after one of the uniliteral hieroglyphs and it's represented by a vulture #which now that i think about it is sort of fitting that was not intentional i just thought aleph would make a good name #they eating his intestines like popcorn while watching a film #fun fact i wrote the section where they eat his heart at a starbucks on public wifi #so that would have been fun for a hacker to see lmao #ive just always loved prying ribs off with crowbars im glad i got to do it finally #big snappy :) #disease where i edit this like once and ship it off to the press #tbf i wrote like the first half of this a year ago so some of it has been stewing for a WHILE #so fuck it we ball #this also has the longest sentence ive ever written at 245 words! unless im forgetting one #tfw it's getting all telltale heart over here #uh yeah hope those of you who can stomach it enjoyed

[fyodorkitkat]

Rating Carla cgs on a completely personal level. Spoilers for Dark Fate and Lost Eden

The tension in this is so intense, but I can't even be mad at him because what would you do if someone snuck up on you when you are trying to shower? 10/10 partially nude and wet Carla with a knife what is there to say?

10/10. Okay actually I'm going to try and leave out the context and judge only the cg my bad on the last one. Restraints. Chain choking. His facial expression. Obviously, a winner here.

This is a bite scene so obviously I am going to love it 10/10

The lighting, his soft smile, and of course my favorite situation for characters to be pictured in. Dancing together 💜🙏 10/10

He is so beautiful here. 10/10

Bite. Scene. And someplace painful too near the shoulder. Obviously, you know it. 10/10

😭😭😭😭 10/10

How can two people on the verge of death look so beautiful and sweet still 🙏😭 10/10

Now surely I can't think so highly of all bad end cgs, right? Wrong. This shit made me cry but you know what. I'd brush his hair for him too if he became a dazed shell of his former self. I'd take great care of him 🙏 10/10 despite crying (I apparently lied about context my bad)

If for some reason you have actually read this far you are probably thinking. Surely they can't rate every cg 10/10 right? Wrong. Because this right here? This is some good shit. 10/10

#did i do this just to have an excuse to throw ten of his cgs up on my blog? maybe so #carla tsukinami #dialovers #also i dont usually do this but in case anyone not familiar with the series following me decides to look at these i will try to be safe #cw violence #cw blood #cw dubcon #cw noncon #those dub and non warnings though are for a biting/blood drinking scene 🙏 #for what i put up here at least 😐

[truly-morgan]

[Age Swap, Reigen pushes Mob too far (18+)]

MobRei | Mob Psycho 100 Age Swap AU + cw: noncon 19-05-2023

[#mobrei, Age Swap, noncon/dubcon]

Reigen had bitten more than he could chew.

He had been trying to seduce his shisho for a while now. After all, he was 16 now, he wasn't a kid anymore and he wanted Mob!!

He had not expected for his rather forward and bold advances to trigger something within the older man. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed and tried to convince him it was okay to do that.

He knew that when his shisho entered that terrifying state it showed better what feelings he had kept buried deep down. He would be happy that the man seemed to reciprocate his feeling were he not scared at the moment.

He had not expected to be nearly slammed against the wall, strong hands and psychic powers keeping him from trying to wiggle away.

Mob's hands on him were rough and greedy, tearing away his school uniform to have access to his body.

"S-Shisho wait!" he tried to beg him, although it clearly did not reach him in any way.

He was surprised at the feeling of being stretched open since he could clearly see where Mob's hand were on him right now. He greeted his teeth at the burn, the power trying to open him up too quickly for what his body could take.

He continued trying to plead with the man, even though he barely got anything out of him aside from low growl.

This isn't what he had expected to happen.

He felt relieved when whatever was opening him up seemed to vanish, although he couldn't stay so for long when he instead felt himself being lifted up and carried to the office couch.

He squeak when he was thrown on it, on his knee and upper body leaning on the back of the couch. He tried moving around but found himself lock in place with invisible shackles once again.

Soon he felt a heavy body leaning over him, something hot and hard pressing against his ass.

At this point, Reigen was shaking and tearing up. This isn't what he had wanted, not like this.

He bite his lips when Mob entered him, the pain burning and feeling like he was being split in half. If only he could feel a bit of pleasure at this, it would make it bearable.

He could feel hungry lips kissing his neck and shoulders, likely leaving behind marks that he would need to hide later on. He really wished these lips could be kissing him properly, much more softly like he would imagine his shisho would do.

He couldn't help the scream that escaped him when he felt teeth sink into his skin, his shoulder burning in pain more than what he had felt when Mob had first entered him.

He had long begun crying, voice broken as he tried to call out to Mob in an attempt to bring him back properly.

But it didn't do anything. The rough pounding into him kept going, the strong bruising grip on his hips wouldn't let go and that hungry mouth kept kissing and biting at him as if trying to mark him as taken.

Reigen wasn't sure for how long this went on, all he could tell was that his shisho had come at least once or twice inside of him.

He felt really relieved when the man finally moved away from him, allowing him to collapse onto the couch, body feely feeling tired and numb.

He was trying to calm the tears coming out of his eyes when he heard a quiet and horrified "Arataka...".

This made him turn towards his shisho that had now come back to his sense, looking pale and horrified had what he had done.

He seemed to try and approach him, only to flinch away before he could reach him,Reigen having tried to grab his hand.

Reigen watched as he backed away more, mumbling apologises.

The young man suddenly felt panicked that Mob would go away and abandon him. terrified that he would be thrown away for something he was certain he had caused.

"don't go," Reigen asked, trying to get off the couch only to stumble to the floor, legs feeling like jelly.

Mob had knelt close, probably by habit, to make sure he was alright. The older man flinched and froze when Reigen lurched at him, wrapping his arms around him tightly so he wouldn't run away.

"Don't go, don't leave me" he begged while crying again, clutching onto his shisho as if his life depended on it.

They stayed like this for a while, Mob attempt at comforting him rather stiff, as if touching Reigen now was the last thing he thought he could do. Despite that, he helped an exhausted Reigen clean up and patched up the really nasty bite he had left behind.

Reigen had fallen asleep along the process. The next thing he knew was laying in his own bed wearing pyjamas.

When he went and met up with his shisho the next day he noticed the way Mob avoided looking at him directly, leaving a good distance between the two of them. Even ritsu had seemed like he had noticed something was off.

Reigen couldn't help feeling like it was all his fault, if only he had not tried to seduce his shisho and waited a couple more years.

He wanted to fix it, reassure his shisho that he was alright (even if it was a lie). But how could he do it when the man avoided the subject and stayed closed off more than before...

Original

#tweet archive #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mobrei #reigen arataka #shigeo kageyama #kinktober summer rerun 2023 #noncon/dubcon #age swap au #pushing too far #reigen tried biting more than he could chew #nsft #cw age gap #cw dubcon #cw noncon

[diejager]

any thoughts for yandere!pervy!könig who has to resist from fucking you so hard? knowing you're too weak and fragile to ruin, but palming himself through his pants whilst bathing you, or creeping on you as you sleep!!! 🥹

ignore if you want to!! can be somnophillia/noncon if you want 🎀🩷

How exactly am I supposed to ignore this??? This is such a good idea!

Yan!Pervy roommate König x fem!reader

Cw: Perverted König, dub-con, somnophilia, panty sniffing, panty stealer, scent/musk kink, handjob, tell me if I missed any.

He just can’t believe how lucky he got when you answered the ad for a roommate. He knew you were searching for a place to move in, wanting to move out of your parents’ place as a first step into independence and he’d purposely put the ad out a few weeks before you moved. The rate was low, lower than most apartment would cost - even for a old, beaten flat, but his was new and well-maintained - it was his way of silently coaxing you to room with him. König had declined every other, keeping it open until you finally contacted him.

The days between your first interaction and your move in were a blur in his mind, dazed with ecstasy and joy to be have you at an arm’s length. You were so small compared to him - as most people were - and so weak and fragile, limbs a third to his and as strong as a child in his eyes. You were so innocent and untouched, your tight little cunt still a virgin in this age. You were temptation on two legs.

He can’t remember the first time he peeked through the crack of the bathroom door, the glass shower doing nothing to hide your wet, naked skin as he palmed himself, groaning lowly as he fished out his hardened cock. He pumped himself, hand twisting as he reached the swollen head of his cock, thumb pressing against the leaky slit and using his precum as lube, jerking his hardened length more easily. He came at the thought of running his hands on your skin, kissing your collar and biting that beautiful neck, digging his hands into your thighs as he fucked into your small cunt. He hurriedly cleaned up and tucked himself back into his pants, burying the flush on his skin as he waited for you to finish your shower.

After the first month, jerking off while watching you shower wasn’t enough, he humped your cushion when you were out, dragging his drizzly cock over your bed. Face buried in your sheets, he drinks in your scent, that sweet rose and vanilla smell of your shampoo as he rutted into his tight palm, imagining that he was between your warm walls. König could come at the idea of covering you in his musk, your hair smelling like him, you skin tasting like him, you cunt leaking of him. He came so hard that it spurted all over your bed, his cum was on your blanket, on your bedsheet, on your cushion and on your headboard. Fuck, he loved the idea of covering you and your things in his cum.

When coming in his hand to the sight of you in the shower and your empty bed wasn’t enough, he slipped into your room at night, the only sound in your shared appartient being you soft snoring and his laboured breaths. He stroked himself, teasing his throbbing cock with slow pumps and watching your innocent oblivion to his dirty thoughts while you slept. He was crouched over you, his figure looming over your figure when he came, thighs spread wide over your hips and hand clawing your bedsheet besides your head, you warm breath hitting his wrist.

You’d wake up without knowing why you were coated in crusty substance or why you were missing another panty, your pretty, blue lacy panty gone from your drawer. König would be in his room, holding your pretty lace lingerie over his nose, sniffing it while he pumped himself. God, König couldn’t stop himself from covering your underwear in his load before handing it back to you, saying that he found it somewhere in the house. Then you’d wear it, your sweet cunny over the spot he came on, making him purr in satisfaction, a branding on you in the deepest way possible since he couldn’t bully his cock into you just yet.

#yandere x reader #yandere konig #yandere könig #pervy!könig #x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig smut #konig x female reader #cod konig #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig call of duty #könig smut #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #cod mw2 smut #mw2 smut

[yawnderu]

CW: noncon, somnophilia, cunnilingus, creampie, hints of military discharge, König is a fucking loser.

Sharing quarters with your Colonel isn't bad at all. The behemoth of a man is surprisingly quiet, always spending his free time in the armory and oftentimes simply away in the office as he focuses on planning strategies for missions.

The real reward comes when he's back in the quarters. His rough, calloused hands take an agonizingly slow time to pull down your pajama pants, a sharp exhale always leaving his lips when he sees your perfect ass. He should scold you for wearing underwear that's against the dress code, really, he should— but instead he's pulling out his cock like the disgusting pervert he is, rubbing his leaking tip all over your ass, staining it with the sticky fluid.

He knows it's wrong— fuck, he hates himself for it, but he can't help the way he's so obsessed with you, hard cock slipping between your thighs as he thrusts his hips slowly, biting his tongue to prevent the guttural groans threatening to escape his lips. His hands slip under your shirt, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his thrusts grow slightly faster while his hand grasps at your tit tightly, thankful he exhausts you so much during training so you always sleep like a log, not even realizing your Colonel is fucking your thighs every single night, leaving a mess of cum that he always cleans off before he goes back to his own bed.

Training today was so much worse than any other day, giving it your all to prove your worth as a KorTac soldier. You barely manage to take a short shower to wash off the mud all over your body and hair, mumbling a small "Colonel" as a greeting before your exhausted body hits the bed with a loud thud, falling asleep right after.

König is a fucking loser. He's a filthy, disgusting loser and he knows it, his cock already throbbing as he lets the minutes go by, listening to your soft snores until he makes sure you're in a deep sleep. He has something special planned for today— that's why he was so hard on your squad during training.

He slowly slips out of his bed, sneaking into yours as he watches you closely like a predator ready to pounce, baby blue eyes fully focused on your sleeping face for a few minutes before he finally gets to work. He's lucky you fell asleep on your back, managing to slip your underwear and pajama pants off of you easily, calloused hands opening your legs enough to see your cunt. It's his first time seeing it, taking his time to admire it before he lays down in bed, lifting his sniper hood and balaclava enough to be able to taste you.

His long tongue darts out, teasingly licking your slit before he's full-on lapping at your cunt, tongue swirling around and flicking against the sensitive skin. His hands grip your thighs tightly, holding your legs open while he devours your pussy like a man starved, half-lidded eyes now fully rolling to the back of his head as your unconscious body responds to his touch, tasting the grool lubricating your cunt.

He could cum just by eating you out, shit— he was actually pretty close, but that'd be a waste. He hesitantly lets go of your cunt once you're wet enough, licking his lips and tasting you one last time before he gets on his knees, positioning his tip on your entrance. He knows he's fucking big— 8 inches of pure thickness, veins running alongside his shaft while his wet tip pokes out of his foreskin—, so he's careful. It's almost agonizing for him the way he has to be slow while sinking into you, a low groan coming out of his lips when he's able to bottom out.

He has to take a deep breath and stay still to avoid cumming, the way your walls tighten around his fat cock is enough to almost make him cum, but he doesn't want it to go to waste— no, not yet. Who knows when's the next time he'll be able to tire you out this much during training, and he's not waiting any longer. His hips start moving against yours, starting slow before he's building a rhythm he likes, practically slamming into you while his baby blue eyes focus on your pretty face.

He wants to whisper pure filth into your ear, to tell you how much he hopes he gets you pregnant so you can be his pretty little wife in Austria, how he wants to have all of you for the rest of his life, but he has to hold back to avoid waking you up. His hand goes up to lift your shirt enough to reveal your tits, back bending as he goes down, circling your nipple with his tongue before fully latching onto it, sucking hard on it while his cock goes in and out of your sopping cunt.

Your body betrays you even while you're sleeping, tightening up around him and practically begging for his cum. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he sucks on your tit more, using it to muffle the deep moan threatening to escape his lips when he buries his cock all the way in, emptying his balls into your cunt. He hesitantly lets go of your nipple and slowly pulls out, planting a trail of kisses down your stomach until he reaches your core, tongue darting out to lick the mess of your grool and his cum until the evidence of his disgusting act is gone, planting one last kiss on your clit before he slips you back into your underwear and pajama pants, taking one last look at your sleeping face before he gets back into his own bed.

#könig smut #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x you #call of duty #cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #konig smut #konig x you #cod konig #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig #könig x y/n #cnc somno #somno breeding #mw2 x reader #mw2 2022 #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare 2

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Wrongful Imprisonment

Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)

You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.

You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.

What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.

They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.

To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.

It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.

The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.

They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.

You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.

"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"

You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.

"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"

You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.

But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.

Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.

In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.

Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.

"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.

"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."

His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.

He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.

At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.

He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.

His name was Lance.

And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.

He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.

Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.

The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.

You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.

Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.

You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.

You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.

And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.

And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.

The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.

Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.

Lance feigned joy at the news.

"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."

"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."

Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.

The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.

Lance knew what he had to do.

/////////

It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.

You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.

And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.

The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.

It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.

He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.

The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.

When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.

He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.

But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.

As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”

“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.

You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.

Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.

“You n-need to leave Lance.”

It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.

“No. I need to breed my husband.”

“Lance, y-you’re not my-”

He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.

The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.

He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.

Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.

The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.

Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.

You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.

He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.

Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.

You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.

The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.

As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.

But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.

After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere boyfriend #male reader #x male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere a/b/o #yandere alpha #yandere omegaverse #My OCs #My OC Lance

[hon3y-y]

Mean nerd! Choso who is extreme intelligent and makes it known. He calls you dumb and belittles your intelligence, but is secretly in love with you. He offers to tutor you and every time you get a good grade he rewards by eating you out and being so sweet and loving, but when you get a bad grade punishment is the worst.

cw; dubcon/noncon (vv light), smut

He’s a meanie but it’s only to show his love:( he wants better for you, and he wants your dumb little brain to be filled with knowledge. He only calls you a “stupid slut” because he cares, not because he likes to see your pretty eyes tear up and your cheeks flush with humiliation. And he definitely doesn’t use that image when he’s pumping his fist full of his cum, his eyes rolling back as he forces himself through a third orgasm to the thought of your pretty tear stained cheeks.

In all honesty, He wants to make you sob on his dick and make your brain numb to anything but the way his cock drags against your tight cunt, maybe he could fuck the knowledge into you? He was willing to give it a try at the very least.

After weeks of torture, he finally convinced you to a tutoring session after saying that “you need him” if you want to pass the class with a decent grade. He worked you tirelessly, making you stay late to study and pulling your hair if you went to sleep(but not before putting his own head down and admiring your puffy lips and the light drool, cooing when your nose scrunched). The sessions usually ending with you in tears, your wobbly voice saying “I’m done.” and leaving mad.

You had full intention of quitting, sick and tired of the endless torments until you looked at your next exam. The score higher than all the rest and a bitter taste in your mouth when you realized he actually did help you.

At the next session you showed him the perfect score, reluctantly saying thank you. You were surprised when he gave you a genuine smile and even more when he had you face down on his bed, eating your pussy like a man. He’s spitting and licking from your clit to your ass, pushing his tongue in and smiling cheekily when you gasp.

Your head is in sheets that smell like him, arching your back as you whimper out praises and begging for him to not stop. He places a teasing kiss to your clit, pulling back to watch his fingers pop through the tiny hole of your pussy, biting his lip to stop a groan as he feels you flutter and nearly creams his pants when you look back to plead with him. “It’s okay baby, I got you~” he leans down to kiss your ass cheek before continuing to eat you out until you’re thrashing and squealing at the lightest touches.

He works you into overstimulation because he loves how you look when you cum, the tiny noises you make and the sound of his stuttered name making his cock twitch. He’ll reach down in the middle of slurping your juices to rub his hard-on through his sweats, letting out little puffs of hot air on your pussy when he brushes over his sensitive tip. He’ll probably make himself cum in his pants, reaching his dirty fingers to push into you or swirl over your soaking lips to make it creamier, watching the two of you mix together, making his soft dick hard again.

But god forbid you bring him a bad grade, you’ll leave sore and bruised. He’ll spank you until you’re sobbing and then slap your pussy until it’s raw, “you’re nothing but a slut huh? What, I treat you well once and you go and get stupid on me?”

He had you in mating press, cock hitting your cervix as you let out a choked sob. You’re sore cunt aches for him. he’s been edging you for hours and refuses to let you cum, leaving you to plead and wail as he pushes you closer to the edge again. “C-cho, please—been s’ good!” You slur, not being able to form words as he bullies his cock into you and uses his hand to cut off your circulation.

He scoffs, “good girls get good grades.” He pulls out completely, groaning as he pumps his cock and cums on your face with a whine. You shut your eyes when it lands on you, eye brows furrowing. “But I haven’t—“ he cuts you off with a tut, shaking his head as he catches his breath. “Only smart girls get to cum, sweetheart. let’s get cleaned up.”

**bonus**Will perform aftercare anyway because he’s not a monster</3, you’ll just pout the whole time and he’ll enjoy every second of it.

#jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #chubby reader #need him so bad #choso x female reader #jjk smut

[imsilay]

SOAR pt.2

prev

NSFW +18 MDNI cw: smut, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, fem!reader, König is a fucking delusional, noncon, Stockholm Syndrome. (idk guys it’s more romantic? than i wanted it to be lmao) (and another warning that this chapter might feel different from the first chapter. just saying :> )

word count: 1.7k

summary: Your sweet captor König fucking you after coming back to home from a long mission.

art cr: yashk_pucyet on twt

König was a man of stamina. He made sure you knew it in the first months that he kidnapped you. And after he came back from deployments, he would make sure you knew he wasn’t a man to be satisfied with just one round. He was your husband after all. He should show his wife that he’s the only one that she needed, that was what he was thinking when he pulled you up by your calves and put them onto his shoulders as he pushed his thick cock into your perfect pussy. His perfect pussy. You were his wife so he had all the right to claim you as his. All of you. All of his. “Ich habe das so sehr vermisst.” (I missed this so much.) he grunted as his hips continued its overwhelming pace.

The way your eyes rolled back and walls clenched tightly around his shaft made him bite onto his lower lip so he wouldn’t let out the moan that was threatening to slip away from his lips. “So fucking cute, Maus.” he cooed when you let out the most beautiful moans and whimpers. The sound of your begging and pleading like ‘stop’, ’s too much’, ‘can’t take it’ fall on deaf ears. All he could hear was the lewd sounds of your dripping cunt. And the way your pussy milked him was enough to convince him to continue. But of course he was still sweet enough to draw tight circles on your clit when he felt you get closer to your orgasm. He brought one if his hands down between your thighs as the other kept your legs on his shoulders. “Let go f’me, Maus. It feels good isn’t it? As much as you try to deny it you missed this cock more than me. Did i made you addicted to this cock? Such a slutty wife. My slutty wife.” and of course he was mean. His degrading words went straight to your pussy. The pleasure, the way he stretched your poor pussy, the way his tip hit your most delicious spots were too overwhelming. You felt like the world’s spinning when he bit the soft skin of your calves. He quickly kissed and licked the new mark which found it’s place among the others. With one hard thrust his tip kissed your cervix and made your vision go white when you cum around his thick cock. Your thighs trembled and you let out a soft cry as you cum. “Scheiße.” He hissed. Pussy squeezing him so tight, milking and begging for his cum. Who he was to not give it to his sweet girl. His beautiful wife. “Gonna cum in you süßes Mädchen.” he purred as the movement of his hips became more desperate. The thought of cumming inside your greedy cunt, claiming you with his cum deep inside your cunt, brought him to the edge. So he finished deep inside you, painting your walls with his seeds. Just like how he did when you ride him. The relief and contentment he felt afterwards was something else. Something that made him feel like a caveman. A man who behaves primitive and rough. “I’m sorry, Maus.” he cooed when he finally noticed your tear stained face. He turned his head to side and closed his eyes when he pressed his lips onto the skin of your legs. “Are you mad at me?” he mumbled softly with all his innocence. He pulled his cock out and collapsed on top of you, so you couldn’t look away from him or try to leave his side. “Look at me, Maus. Du gehst nirgendwohin.” (You’re not going anywhere.) his lengthy and calloused fingers found your chin to make you look into his eyes. He hated when you got upset with him. His heart ached and anxiety engulfed his brain whenever you avoided him. It wasn’t like you could ever leave him. Oh he wouldn’t let you. He just needed you so much. His need and desperation for you never ended.

In the other hand, there you were, so sore from his harshness and endless desire for you. You felt like crying again as he softly let go of your chin, deciding that he was already too harsh on you today, and buried his head into your neck. He was heavy. God he was like 130 kilograms and he was crushing your poor delicate body into mattress. Not that he cared if you were uncomfortable. He just wanted to soothe you with the way he thought would work. His actions were confusing you, making you doubt yourself whenever he got so tender and soft with you. Like now. He was nuzzling and murmuring into your neck, kissing and licking the soft skin, breathing in your addictive scent and marking you by sucking bruises onto your throat… He was melted onto your body, like he didn’t fucked you senseless a minute ago. “Was i too rough again?” he finally spoke again, making you sob and nod quietly. All the overwhelming feelings finally getting to you. “Aww poor baby. That was why i wanted you to ride me.” Yeah, like you had had the energy for it after doing it once already. König knew he was hard in bed. Brutal even. He knew if he had his hands on you he would manhandle you into every position he wanted and he wouldn’t think if it hurt you. You see, he was a soldier, he didn’t knew how to be soft. He didn’t knew how to calm down people. When he had his cock in you and you weren’t on top of him -in control- he would only think the ways to go deeper inside your welcoming warmth. Like the caveman he felt. “I will make it up to you, Meine Königin. How about a hot bath?” he suggested as his fingers dug into your messy hair and started to caress it tenderly. Even if he was tired from the work he still wanted to keep his beautiful wife content and happy. You wanted to deny him, to push him of off your sore body and curse at him. Maybe you could hit him across the face if you had the energy. But all you could do was give him another tiny nod. “That’s my beautiful wife.” he smiled so brightly like you just gave him the world. Despite keeping you forcefully in his home, in his bed, in his arms, you couldn’t deny the trust he imbued into your mind.

His large arms wrapped around your body after he pressed a last lingering kiss on your neck. He gently lifted you up and made you wrap your legs around his waist. Once he was sure you were secured in his strong arms he got up from bed and carried you to the tub that he soon filled with warm water and some essences you like. Once everything was done he pulled your back against his chest and you couldn’t help but put your head back on his chest. “Enjoying yourself, Maus?” he chuckled lightly as you closed your eyes with a humm. The way his strong arms wrapped around you and his fingers massaged your sore muscles relaxed you further. “Feels good.” you mumbled, your voice just above whisper and he noted the way you sigh softly when his fingers brushed against the fresh marks on your thighs. You didn’t even wanted to open your eyes, you just wanted to enjoy how his fingers worked on your sore muscles and forget that it was your kidnapper who was holding you firmly against his body. Maybe, just maybe if you forgot that fact, living with him wouldn’t be that bad. And of course you had to bare with him claiming you as his wife and wanting you to call him your husband all the time. Yeah, that was annoying. But in total it wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t that bad. And maybe he was right when he told you that you didn’t needed anyone but him. He could provide for you, he could show affection and he wasn’t afraid to voice his love for you in every given chance. Unlike the men outside. Yeah, maybe if you just play with his rules you could be happier. He loved you after all. You were his little wife. And he was your husband. “What are you thinking?” he pressed a kiss on your temple when he saw your expression. What could you be thinking so hard? He had to know. He wanted to be inside your head constantly. When you didn’t answer, his mind starts to wonder. Why you weren’t answering him? Were you thinking of escaping again? Even after he fucked you this good and taking care of you? “Answer me.” his tone goes darker with the seconds you waste. His fingers squeezing your plush thighs unconsciously. “I- i was just thinking-“ a small cry left your lips when you flinched with the pain on your thighs. And of course he noticed. Like he noticed everything about you. So he let his grip loosen to let you speak. “I think i love you.” you said and felt his whole body tense behind your back. His whole body went stiff like he received a bullet into his chest. And it felt like it. He felt like his heart exploded and replaced with another one so it could beat this fast. You turned towards him to see his expression but what you saw got you more worried. His eyes were fixated on the wall of the bathroom and his mouth was agape. He looked like he was in a trance. “König?” you called his name but he just remained still. So you did the thing you wanted to do for a while and kissed him. He let out a small gasp but it short lived when he immediately grabbed you by the back of your neck and kept your head still so you couldn’t get away from his grip. Oh no, not anymore when he finally, truly got you. A low moan, more like a growl, left his lips when he finally had a taste of your delicious looking lips. Oh god it was like heaven. You were like heaven and now he couldn’t get enough of you. His hungry mouth captured yours with a desperate kiss. His used his free hand to press onto your chin to explore your mouth further. He was desperate for the new taste he got and he was determined to savor it until his last breath. You were his and he had to claim it with his kiss. There was no going back after giving him your delicious lips.

“Now that you kissed me, you can’t leave me anymore.”

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i try to reply all of them :>

i just love this fic sm. i can’t get enough. a small chapter to thank you guys for:

THIS. ~(≧▽��)/~ I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU GUYS ARE MY DELULU BBGS <3

and can someone tell me why i love writing König while listening to Rammstein

#i need him so bad #like he could do all the things above and i would thank him #what the fuck is friends when i have König #konig x you #konig cod #könig #könig smut #konig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig x reader #konig smut #konig x y/n #könig x y/n #silay #i know it’s könig #könig x you #obsessed könig #konig mw2 #könig cod #konig #könig call of duty #konig call of duty #könig mw2 #konig imagine #konig headcanons #könig modern warfare #konig modern warfare #konig x female reader

[cherry-writes-yanderes]

so tiny~

(könig x gn! reader)

a/n: had a fever dream and I just HAD to write this 🤭

cw: dead dove do not eat, just filthy smut, mention of being fuckbuddies, possessive sex, size difference, tummy bulge, claiming, fucking while unconscious, cumming inside without permission, noncon near the end, mention of kidnapping

“S-So fuckin’ tiny~..” König never failed to choke out every time that he pushed inside of you. It was like a tradition now, praising how tight and small you were compared to the massive, hulking man on top of you.

You never failed to shed a tear every time he pushed in, his cock practically breaking you apart the first time. It luckily had gotten easier, but your hole still struggled to take him every time. He made you cum better than anyone else ever had, so it was all worth it in the end.

This time, he was too excited to wait for you to adjust before thrusting his hips, his dog tags jingling softly from his pace. Your moans made him growl, burying himself deep inside to watch your belly bulge from his massive cock. He loves doing that, your moans get so loud and cute!~

He suddenly presses your knees to your chest, making you squeal as he fucks into you over and over. König huffs, biting lovingly into your calf as he watches his big dick disappear into your hole and reappear again, his hips kissing yours every single time just to hit that spot that he knows makes your eyes roll back.

“Mmh… gonna cum in you this time- you’ll be mine-“ The giant man grunts, his grip on your thighs even tighter as he quickens his pace. Your veins run cold. He’s never done that before. You two agreed that this was just a hookup thing, not anything serious!! You try to pull yourself away from him, your legs pushing off of his broad and scarred shoulders.

“Ah ah!” He shouts, pausing his relentless thrusts to hold your down at your arms, his leg coming around and hooking his knee over your leg to keep you from kicking too much. Sweat dripped from his rough skin, mixing with yours as he descended onto you once again.

“M’ sorry… I jus’ need you so bad…” He slurs slightly, a telltale sign that he was close to cumming. He resumes the desperate thrusts of his hips, managing to pound against your sweet spot with every stroke. “Mine, mine, mine~” He chanted, punctuating every slap of his skin to yours with a claiming note. You couldn’t stop yourself from cumming all over him, gushing and shaking as he fucks you through it to reach his own high.

König’s end came quickly, his thick and hot cum spilling into you like a waterfall as his shaky hips press against yours to keep it all inside. “Alles meins…~” He whispers into your ear, his breath heavy from his orgasm. His grip stays, his fingers digging into your skin just to feel it under him. You belong here. Right here, under him. All pretty and full for him~

His eyes were blown wide, staring at your beautiful figure as he started to move again. He didn’t need long to cool down, he was so insatiable when it came to you! Orgasm upon orgasm wracked your little body, sending you into cockdrunk stupor with your eyes barely open; and even then, König refused to stop using your pretty hole. You were long unconscious, but he was still chasing that high of the crown of his cock catching on you and sinking in. He lived for that, his head falling back from how tight and perfect you are.

He planned to never let you leave. You are his, and you’ll be happy, he knows it.~

~i do not condone yandere behavior/noncon irl~

#call of duty mw2 #könig mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #könig smut #yandere könig #dead dove do not eat #mordern warfare 2 #könig #tw noncon #könig x reader #konig cod #könig fanfiction #mdni #call of duty modern warfare ll #call of duty #cod könig #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #könig cod

[blughxreader]

Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara

cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS. Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.

Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.

This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.

I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.

While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.

Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.

Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.

You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.

His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.

However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.

Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.

His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.

God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.

He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.

It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.

Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?

You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.

He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.

While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.

He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.

Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.

He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.

Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.

Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.

But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.

Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.

---

When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.

His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.

With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.

Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.

"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."

He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.

Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."

He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.

Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.

You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.

Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.

He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.

He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.

A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.

"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."

#yandere miguel o'hara #dark miguel o hara #yandere miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #yandere spiderverse #cw: noncon #cw: breeding #afab

[wintersera]

sick and twisted || stepsibling g!p winrina x virgin!freader

notes: making a comeback. sorry anon for the long ass delay, but i also merged it with another ask bc i thought it would work well together. do NAWT ask why i took so long- i was going thru it 😭😭

cw: porn with plot, stepcest/pseudo incest, noncon -> dubcon, g!p dom winrina, virgin!reader, corruption, use of cuffs, oral (giving), blackmail, biting/marking, creampie, gagging, degredation, slapping, family issues, arguments, mentions of divorce.

wc 3.9k

if you told jimin and minjeong that they would have another step-sibling in their life they would scoff at you, then laugh and say that’s not possible… then scoff in your face again.

yet here they were moving into another house their father bought for you and your mother.

isn’t that fun?

jimin, the actual biological child, was born and raised with a hot headed mother and poor excuse of a father. living with the two was hell for her, dealing with her mothers bull shittery almost every damn day.. and the absence of her father always led to her mother lashing out at her and never him. longer down the line of their shitty marriage, the father decided to pull the trigger and divorce her for good. maybe it was money issues? maybe it was something else? jimin didnt like to pry and she was glad she left it like that.

minjeong was the child of a broke, whorish and shitty woman. the marriage between jimin's father and minjeong’s mother actually lasted quite a while… to their surprise. who knew another horrid woman in this rich fuck of a man’s life would actually do some good to the both of them.

they ended up acting like they knew each other from day one- like i kid you not, they were inseparable. even after the divorce of their father and mother they still stayed together, obviously choosing their dad because god that man was rich as hell and they knew that they could use some privilege from it. not only that, but for some reason their dad loosened up a little, he actually became a much better person and worked on his self improvement, unlike minjeong’s mother who stayed a cheating BITCH … no wonder why their father divorced her sorry ass.

but beside the point. jimin, minjeong and their father arrived at the new mansion. somewhere secluded and somewhere breathtaking- only because your step father really thought your mother was the one and only woman for him.

jiminjeong, without prior notice to their fathers new found wife, and no knowledge of the womans daughter, were left shocked when they saw the two of you enter through the mansion’s doors.

your first impressions weren’t good at all… your mother looked and acted like- guess what?!! a bitch… and you? you seemed pretty decent at first, so jimin and minjeong didn’t really care. yeah, unfortunately they didn’t click with you, but they thought that they should give it some time. you were unfamiliar with the new environment and they knew it would cause crazy anxiety.

—

a couple months into the family and you and your mother finally started to act comfortably around the rest. it didn’t take long for you mother to start acting up though- frankly she opened up too much, as in, she started to become more and more of an asshole as the months went by. at first it started as simple requests from your step father. she would go around the house demanding him to buy this and that. her ego grew… and when i say grew, it inflated actually. nothing could stop her from being a prick, and unfortunately she influenced you to act like the same way.

she had a plan- she really didn’t love your step father. instead she was really just into it for the money. and of course, you knew that plan from the beginning. as much as you didn’t like your mother, the plan wasn’t half bad- deciding to stay with her was the right choice, well you thought so anyways. anything for money i guess.

the workload he had stressed your step father out so much and your mothers constant requests for money really didn’t help. berating him almost every day, sometimes she would go so far to the point of him having to lock himself in his office just so he could avoid her.

only 6 months of living together and she’s already driving him crazy? jimin and minjeong looked at each other in disbelief, surely you wouldn’t join in on the disruptive behaviour… right?

oh they were so wrong.

YOU-

you wanted the plan to go well too… you needed that cash. fuck your mother and everything, that cash meant more than your strained bond. you wanted it for yourself, so now it was your turn to fuck around and be a dick head.

doing everything in your power to get money from your step father, like your mother did. it started out all simple and sweet.. you know like casually asking for allowance, and since he was rich as fuck, allowance was usually something around 2k per ask. racking up the money somewhere in your room for yourself, you didn’t realise jimin and minjeong were staring at you through the crack of the door.

jimin carefully lowered herself to minjeong’s height, making sure you wouldn’t be able to hear an utter from her. whispering in her ear “what a waste… she’s pretty but she’s a money stealing prick”

somehow minjeong was calm about it, thinking you were just stashing it up because she knew you were previously broke. she’s been in that same situation, showing some sort of empathy towards you “i mean.. she hasn’t done any bad yet… well i hope she never does actually. i hope she’s not like her mom”

jimin scoffs “i doubt that”

the sound of something dropping on the floor caught their attention, you’d dropped a bag of some sort. their hearts beating out of their chests thinking that you had caught them watching you. thankfully you didn’t, uttering under a few curses under your breath and nothing else. sighing in relief, they had back to their respective rooms and called it a day.

that was until they heard you shouting downstairs after a couple of hours.

“fuck you mean you can’t give me any more money. aren’t you supposed to be my dad? you know, someone who cares for their children and shit”

jimin woke up first, creeping into minjeongs room and shaking her awake “…mmm… huh? what’s up”

“don’t be surprised, but i think y/n is arguing with our dad… told you she was like her mom”

sneaking their way downstairs, tiptoeing so they wouldn’t be heard. they notice their dad hunched over in the couch, his hands covering his face in.. anger? or sadness. they couldn’t tell.

“GOD- fuck you’re such a shit step dad… you know what fuck you” the step father being on the verge of tears, the way he balled up his fists, the way his face was red hot and the way he was biting down hard on his lip, you knew it was was working and you knew you were such a shit person for it, you were growing heated too- for some reason. mothers genetics you could say.

“you couldn’t keep your first wife, and you couldn’t keep your second wife?! and now you’re going to lose your third all because you can’t provide for your family like the good man you are.” you laughed in his face and clicked your tongue “ahhh it all makes sense now. you're a miserable excuse of a father and a poor excuse of a husband. you’re rich as hell i dont know why you can’t give me anymore money…”

“i-i.. i’m trying my best you know y/n” voice cracking “i’m doing my best to keep the family together… i just want us to be happy”

“yeah well you’re not doing a good job now are you? hell, you’re also a shitty example of a man too. go ahead and write those divorce papers. i’m sick of your shit”

with that, you walked back upstairs, jimin and minjeong running back up trying not to get caught.

you’d struck a nerve in them, witnessing you berate their dad knowing that he’s a changed man, made them vexed. jimin had been peering at your face, an obvious crease in her forehead and in between her brows made it obvious that she was planning something sick. minjeong had a cold and blank scowl.

they both gave each other knowing looks, a smirk on both of their faces… whatever they had in mind was not morally right, but they couldn’t care less.

—

sleeping soundly after the whole argument, glad that you could possibly get something out of it by the time you woke up, you failed to hear the sound of your lock being picked open.

jimin creeped towards your bed, gritting her teeth as she tried her very best not to punch you in the face. utter disgust was the one thing she was feeling, looking at you made her grimace. she found you pretty at first glance but after she witnessed you tear down her dad, her vision was shattered. even if she wanted to beat you up, she couldn’t, she wanted to defile you first. with shaky hands, she lifted the thick bed sheets off of your body, carefully stripped you out of your clothes and gazed at your naked body. she lightly slapped her cheek, you looked good bare but she didn’t let that take over her… yet.

she hooked your wrist onto the bed frame. the cold icy feeling of the cuffs latching onto your left wrist made you stir in your sleep, yet it wasn’t enough to wake you up from your deep slumber.

minjeong had the job of writing on you. depriving your humanity by writing objectifying words on your bare stomach. words such as ‘slut’, ‘filthy whore’, ‘gold digger’, were written across your stomach, thighs and legs. if it wasn’t humiliating enough, she took pics just for safe measures. it was horrible, yes she knew that.

she thought how genius it would be to draw an arrow on your lower abdomen pointing down towards your pussy, the words above saying ‘use here’. giggling to herself as she snapped another pic.

the flash from minjeong’s camera startled you. waking up grumpily asking “what the fuck is going on” as you tug on your arm, only to realise that you’ve chained to the bed.

first thing you noticed was minjeong’s camera pointing towards you, bright flash blinding your eyes “fuck- shit, this isn’t funny. turn the camera off” the chains on the cuff rattling as you attempt to pry them off “guys… this isn’t funny… take it off”

second thing you realised was the lack of clothing. the chilly air hit your body, goosebumps forming on your skin. the warmth of the blanket was no more and the intense humiliation began to seep into your body.

thirdly, the writing on your stomach and legs as you look down analysing the situation.

“you shouldn’t have said that earlier. the disrespect you have… yu y/n you’re disgusting” jimin spat at you, her gaze turned towards minjeong who then nodded. afraid that they would kill you right on the spot, automatically you started to sob out pathetic pleas

“listen, shit- i’m sorry. i was desperate okay… he should’ve given me the money anyway- cut me some slack, it was only a one time thing. you know, me and my mom rea-“

a hand flew to your face “shut the fuck up” she left a red stinging mark on your cheek- well deserved. minjeong gritted her teeth, she didn’t want her dad to wake up to another argument yet alone waking up to his two kids fight his other kid “this picture i took.. do you want this to be uploaded everywhere?” rapidly shaking your head in denial. the image in question was so vulgar, your legs being spread apart while the words ‘use here’ were pointing right at your pussy, it was truly horrible. minjeongs lips tugged upwards, biting back a snicker only because she wanted to seem serious and mean about this- oh and also because the image violently turned her on.

“n-no… delete the pic- please i’ll give the money back and apologise… just.. don’t upload it anywhere” hiccuping while hot tears streamed down to your chin.

“poor you” jimin added on “no one can help you now.. do as you’re told” her tone was sickening to hear.

it clicked and you felt disgusted, the knowing look that they had.. body language showing that they were about to ravish you. it was gross.

your tear stained face shifted into a dreaded look. feeling jittery, your eyes widened as both of them slid down their boxers, revealing their cocks that sprung up.

“…you guys are sick…” there’s no way in hell that they were about to do this. but here they were, approaching you as you attempt to free your wrist from the cuffs again “get away f-from me… you sick fuckers” minjeong sprang onto the bed first, holding your legs open as you try to kick away from her grasp. curses and shouts left your mouth, but they were useless since jimin wrapped her hand around it.

there was no use in fighting back. you gave into their heinous acts even if your body was rejecting them. no one was there to help you anyway. even if you called for your mother, she wouldn’t give a shit since she only cared for herself from the very beginning.

jimin, who stood beside you, pressed her cock against your face. you could feel her throbbing as she placed it on your cheek, the hard thing felt slimy and gross- you denied her as she tried to forcefully shove it in your mouth, which ended up with her slapping it around your face like you were some common whore “open up, unless you want those pics of you online” of course you didn’t want that- those posts would ruin your reputation, your self esteem. it would ruin you.

mentally screaming in your head, you open your mouth wide, feeling her thick cock enter your mouth slowly. jimin let out a long sigh, savouring the feeling of your tongue at the base of her cock- “a-ah.. you’re taking me whole? you slut” moaning out as she steadily rocks her hips back and forth “you should- mm fuck.. really use this m-mouth just to take dick, don’t you agree jeongie”

minjeong, who was stroking her dick in between your legs, nodded her head. fixated on the way you took jimin’s throbbing cock easily down your throat. she watched you with keen eyes, keeping her gaze on the way your lips parted and wrapped around her shaft while also listening to the gagging sounds you made everytime jimin hit the back of your throat.

having more of a moral compass in comparison to jimin, she felt a little bad for you- but couldn’t help getting off to the view in front of her. she grinned, a very fucked up grin you could say. grabbing her phone again, she pressed record without you noticing- being so caught up with having dick stuffed in your mouth. spreading your lips apart, pointing the cameras and zooming in on your soaked pussy “you really are a whore- getting wet from this.. you should’ve said you wanted this from the beginning y/n. or were you too much of a coward to ask” slapping your pussy repeatedly, earning a few muffled moans.

putting the phone down minjeong slipped her hard cock inside of you, skipping the condom and everything.

your pussy was tight, almost like a virgins… wait- “god, don’t tell me you’re a… you’re a virgin?” a sick and twisted smile crept upon both jimins and minjeongs face. and the way they got harder hearing that news further implicated that they were morally fucked up in the head “mmm… fuck, you’re so tight that i can barely move… y/n ah- ngh..” by trying to push her dick further into you, it caused you to scream out in pain and pleasure- the sensation of her throbbing cock filling up your virgin pussy felt alien, yet so good. thankfully you were soaking wet, and the precum slathered around minjeongs dick helped it slide in much easier than it should have.

“nmghh hurts… hurts-” you manage to say between breaths, voice muffled by jimin's cock still being pumped in and out of your throat. minjeong couldn’t care, extracting her anger out on your pussy, stretching it wide open for her own sick pleasure. she scoffed,

“not so talkative now, are you?” she mocks, her hands gripping the sides of your hips, nails digging into your flesh as she jolts her hips which caused her tip to ram into the entrance of your cervix. fuck.. and it hurt like hell. never being filled up by something so large, your eyes begin to roll back, and you begin to scream around jimin's cock.

both of them showed absolutely no mercy, using your body as if it was a toy for their pleasure. being used in such a way made you feel heated, your stomach tightening as they continue to force themselves into your holes.

minjeong moaned out, her nails digging deeper and deeper into your flesh, almost breaking it. your tight cunt clamping down so hard on her cock threw her into a frenzy- she observes your face with hearts in her eyes, she never felt this powerful before, god… even her movements sped up- there was a husky rasp to her moans, it even seemed animalistic.

and there was jimin, gripping your hair in a messy ponytail just so that she can ruthlessly fuck your mouth. with the amount that she was tugging and pulling on your head, you could assume that your head was throbbing in pain- assuming anyways, because you were feeling strangely good that you most likely ignored the pain.

as planned, they continue their assault on you. pussy already stretched out and abused, and your jaw began to ache.

enough of that jimin thought. although she enjoyed your warm throat, mouth and tongue working magic on her cock, she couldn’t forget that this was your punishment. the palm of her hand pushed your forehead, prompting you to lay back down, head meeting the soft pillows. you fell with a light thud- now due to the fact that you had nothing in your mouth to keep you quiet, and the way that minjeong was still pummelling into your pussy raw, you had no other choice but to cry out loud… not in a ‘save me, help me!’ way, it was more like a “fuck, fuck- mmnngh… w-wait- feels ah..!?” type of way.

jimin looked at her younger step sibling. she knew minjeong was too heated to even think about the punishment. she clicked her tongue in annoyance.

minjeongs fingers made their way to your clit, toying and rubbing with the sensitive nub. it only pushed you to moan even louder, the first time you’d have someone play with your clit.. waves of pleasure washed over your body causing you to wriggle around. seemed like jeongie was a little pussy drunk, actually no, she was pussy drunk. every pound forced your cunt to the best fucktoy for her. at this point her sweat dripped down from her temple to the side of her face with how fucking fast her hips were going.

jimin stood for a moment- thats when it struck her, another great plan came to mind. she kneeled on top of your bed, making it creak a little, shuffling a little closer to where minjeong was positioned, she whispered something sinister into her ears.

“get up-“ jimin ordered with an authoritative voice “stand up y/n” you winced, hissing out in pain as minjeong carelessly pulls her cock out with a little-

“mmm.. now? oh yeah, okay…” jeongie thankfully takes the cuffs off. thank god she did because the pain from the hard ass metal had you rubbing your wrist, a slightly deep and red mark sat on your skin.

“y/n, stand up” jimin ordered once again.

coughing out, voice hoarse “…fuck no… n-not gonna”

“still talking back?” minjeong sneered. now both of them are pretty strong- being able to toss you across the room for shits and giggle.. but not so much shits and giggles when you’re forced to stand up, seized inbetween jimins strong grip, both hands around your bare shoulders. she momentarily gawked between your legs, she snickered-

“lowlife stealing bitch and now a whore even though you were a virgin… you honestly deserve this” all at once her dick pierces your cunt, her erratic movements earning a guttural moan that came straight out your throat. following jimin, minjeong came from behind, lifting your leg into the air so that she could make room for herself.

“don’t…!? you’re gonna b-break me- i can’t fit both in me.. wait, please pleaseplease anything but this- please!?!” teasing her dick at your entrance, basking in the feeling of your wet pussy again. jimins thick cock was bigger than you’d anticipated- but having minjeong’s in your cunt as well would surely leave you unable to walk. not like they cared…

ramming both at different speeds caused you to lose control of everything. unable to adjust to their length, your hands instinctively search for something to grab ,because really.. who can function normally with two girthy dicks stuffed inside of their virgin pussy.

if one of them pumped in, the other one pumped out. an endless stream of violent railing that turned your brain to mush. beyond saving, and beyond speech- nothing more than gargled moans and incoherent mumbles fell from your mouth. so, so intense that you felt like your body was giving in-

being dehumanised and degraded and only made for jiminjeongs use. you hated that you learned to love it.

jimin threw her head back, her mouth agape moaning at how stuffed your pussy was and how much of a cock slut you were. hips snapping each time she felt like you weren’t reacting the way she wanted. huffing each time she felt close- her plan wasn’t completed yet and because of that she had to restrain from shooting her load into your womb.

minjeong bit down on your shoulder, marking you everywhere she could- only because she could take a couple more pictures later and use that as blackmail and definitely not her own personal use. she nuzzled herself into the crook of your neck- leaving dark bruises scattered across your nape.

you wrap your arms around jimins neck “feel- feel weird… haa.. mmngh-“ you squeezed your eyes shut, your body tensed, you heard the two of them pant in your ear, jimins low moaning reverberating in your head and minjeong high pitched whimpers suggested that they were as close as you were.

“take it- fuck,, take it all you filthy whore” jimin snapping her hips as she fills your entire cunt with her semen. not even a second later, minjeong ejaculates as well, she squeals and bites into your neck, both hers and jimins legs shaking from the harsh orgasm. you follow in their pleasure, letting out a strangled moan, head slumping backwards into minjeong as your body falls limp.

they leave you afterwards, letting you lay weakly on the floor “what happens here, stays here. if you tell anyone we’ll know.. oh and those pics will be posted” walking out the door as if nothing ever happened. and yet you’re laying down on your carpet cunt filled up with a mixture of their semen leaking out.

hmm… guess you’ll have to piss them off again. who knows what they’ll do to you.

HELP IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS? THOUGHTS????

#wintersera #cw: noncon #cw: stepcest #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader smut #g!p aespa #g!p winter #g!p karina #aespa karina smut #aespa winter smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #kpop girl group smut

[charliemwrites]

Part 2 of mean ghost (*sigh* ill put this in the masterlist)

CW for Simon being mean (again) and noncon touching (not sexual); also previous warnings still apply esp for implied kidnapping

You do this thing when you think you’re alone. Stretch out nice and slow - back arched, arms up, head back. You make a little noise in the back of your throat and then sigh nice and long as you relax. Sometimes even catch a yawn, rubbing at your eyes to fight off a wave of sleepiness.

You do it after waking from naps, cleaning, showering, even just sitting still for too long. If he interrupts - or you think he’s going to - you shrink down again, take up as little space as possible and try to work through your limbs one by one. Try to remain unnoticed, unobtrusive.

His stealth has never been so handy.

The most tempting is when you’re on the couch. You’ll lie on your stomach and stretch, ass tilting up like an offering. Then you’ll flop out all limp and satisfied, arms folded under your head, ankles crossed prim and proper. He wants to sink his teeth into the plush fat of your thigh.

“Wh-hey!”

You squirm; Simon’s having none of it, pins you with a harsh hand on the back of your neck. You yelp in surprise and discomfort, going still only because you have to. Unhindered, he continues to yank your joggers down over your ass, peels them to mid-thigh.

No bite marks.

“Fuckin’ mutt,” he grumbles to himself. “Doesn’t know how to play with you right.”

You make a high-pitched, distressed sound, hips shifting uneasily.

“Hush up,” he tells you absently.

You whine again, quieter this time, hands balling up into tight little fists by your head. He stares at the bare skin of your thighs, smooth and unmarked. Is sorely tempted to touch. Bruise. Bite.

Yanks your pants back up again instead and lets you go.

You scramble to the far side of the couch, curl up with your knees to your chest. Stare at him with big wet eyes.

“Wh-what…?” you breathe. “Why?”

He tilts his head. Your hair is all mussed up now, cheeks flushing with color and paling at intervals. Body not knowing how to react.

“I-I was just… sitting there,” you say like you’re trying to rationalize it to yourself.

“Because I wanted to,” he replies. That’s really all the explanation you need.

You sniffle a bit, blinking rapidly. Lashes already wet and sticking together with unshed tears. The light glitters in them.

“Was that scary?” he asks, taunting.

You sniffle again and don’t answer, pressing your lips together to keep them from trembling.

He rises onto the couch, still maintaining the distance you made. Stares as your eyes drop to your fidgety fingers, twisting and rubbing together to self-soothe. Keeps staring as you wrestle your breathing under control. Tuck your elbows into your side, compact. All set to hunker down until the predator loses interest.

“C’mere.”

Your head snaps up, breath hitching.

“M-me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

You lick your lips nervously, uncoiling a bit in a bid to buy yourself time.

“Y-you want me… over… there?” you say it like translating an unfamiliar language.

“Told you to c’mere didn’t I?” he rumbles. “And what’d I say ‘bout repeatin’ myself?”

“S-sorry,” you say, hands up as if in surrender. “Just… I just wanted to make sure I understood.”

“Thought I made myself pretty fuckin’ clear.”

Your silence and darting gaze disagree; he gives you a pass only because you scoot a bit closer. Within arms reach again. His hands twitch on his thighs. Your eyes dart down to the movement instantly, so hyperaware.

He flips his hand, curls a finger, beckoning you closer.

Your expression twitches, a complex amalgamation of the stages of grief. Then swallow and inch just a bit closer, as much as you seem able to stand. The tiniest sliver of heated air separates your bodies now, yours angled towards his with his weight on the cushion.

Fidgety hands again, and biting at your lip. About to shake out of your skin.

“What do you call me?” he asks.

You blink, head popping back a bit in genuine surprise. “Um… could you — what do you mean…?”

He narrows his eyes a bit, parsing your expression. If it were Johnny, he could make the biggest, saddest, wettest eyes in the world and Simon would know he’s being a fucking brat. Asking questions just to poke holes in his paper thin patience.

You, however, seem to be asking out of an abundance of caution. A desire to please him on the first try rather than risk failing at all.

“If you needed my attention,” he says slowly, watching a nonverbal I-would-never cross your pretty, vulnerable face, “how would you call for me?”

You tilt your chin down a bit. Tongue and teeth for weights and measures.

“I-I’d say ‘excuse me’,” you begin slowly. “Or, um, I guess if… if I was in another room…”

A longer pause this time. Long enough that he’s about to bark at you to spit it out.

“Mister lieutenant Ghost… sir…?”

He stares for a second. Feels the corners of his mouth twitching beneath the mask.

Makes his voice deep as he growls, “You call me sir or mister. Nothing more nothing less. Understand?”

You nod quickly. “Mhm.”

He narrows his eyes. You blink in return, notice he’s expecting something. Fidget again.

“Um, th-thank you,” you offer.

He huffs. Christ, what’s Johnny been fucking doing with you all this time? So polite and quick to learn, you just don’t know your manners yet. Haven’t been taught.

“Thank you, what?” he prompts.

“Oh,” you say as it clicks. “Thank you… sir?”

“You’re not sure if you’re grateful now?” he tsks.

“No!” you put your hands out quickly, trying to placate - still so, so careful not to touch. “I-I mean yes… um, yes sir. I… uh, thank you, sir.”

He considers you. Waits until you swallow thickly, leaning away as far as you can without scooting away again. Get that pretty gleam of tears again.

Clicks his tongue. “Off you go, then.”

You don’t ask where, just dart off the couch.

“We’ll work on it.”

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #mean ghost #Johnny’s pet

[love-toxin]

(cw: yandere, noncon, drugging, kidnapping, daddyfication)

i think i need to be fr and acknowledge how i can't stop thinking about getting kidnapped by Gallagher and being his lil babydoll...

get all dressed up and drink all the fancy cocktails he mixes cuz it's easier to manhandle someone when they're drunk. being dragged to and from the bar day and night because, despite being his captive, he doesn't mind showing you off since he's sure he can train you not to break under any questioning from nosy busybodies.

he names a cocktail after you, all bright and cheerful with a mix of your favourite colours, but a sip of it proves too sour for you to handle. it's not even bittersweet, just a burning, acidic taste that bites your tongue all the way down to your throat as Gallagher watches you drink it. you've gotta drink at least one a day, per his rules. as strong as it is, it never tastes enough of alcohol for it to give you any serenity.

on the other hand, he doesn't really drink when he's around you. after he puts you to bed or when he's alone, sure, he'll have a couple dreamjoys--but aside from that, he keeps as sober as he can be when he has his pretty thing to look after.

he's kinda like a dad, you realize. he likes it. it's weird, but it becomes overly comfortable; he enjoys feeding you and eats better when he's got to make sure you're full and eating good. he still skimps on sleep often but he'll cuddle you when he slides into bed next to you. he spends so much time worrying after you that you might end up calling him 'dad' or 'daddy' by accident, and he'll encourage it to stick without thinking. he praises you and punishes you in equal measure, one with kisses and sex and the other with alcohol, restraints, and....more sex. for a middle-aged guy, he's got quite the hunger for getting rough in bed, but maybe that's just because of you.

after a while, when you're sufficiently brainwashed after so much gaslighting and manipulation, you might get jealous or worried that Gallagher's gonna find someone else if you're bad. that maybe daddy's love isn't unconditional like he said if you misbehave too much. that's one of the only thoughts he doesn't let fester in you--you can worry about being well-behaved, or if he's gonna let you have dessert after dinner, but not whether he loves you or not. that won't ever change. why would he put so much effort into training you keeping up your good behavior just to lie and cheat on you? that doesn't make any sense. daddy still loves you even when you're bad.

cause daddy isn't all that great of a guy, either. in fact, he's pretty much an unhinged, perverse psycho. but maybe you've forgotten that now, and all the better for him.

#gallagher #gallagher hsr #honkai star rail #hsr #gallagher x reader #gallagher hsr x reader #spicy writing #ellie writes

[sserasin]

bff!jake who sends their sex tapes and nudes to any boy reader gets close to or asks out so she would be his only !!!

- 🧸🎀

marking territory

cw nsfw under cut, noncon/dubcon, female reader, bff!fwb!jake, unprotected sex (he pulls out n cums on reader), he records with consent and sends it without consent(or knowledge), dehumanizing kinda, brief mention of cravity minhee and hyeongjun, orgasm denial

“i—it’s not nice,” you whine, pawing at his shirt. jake chuckles, grabbing your wrists with one hand and bringing them up over your head.

“yeah? well it’s not nice when guys try to get with my girl when they know she’s mine,” jake’s grip tightens, slowly rocking his hips into yours.

you let out a pathetic sob, eyes scrunching shut as you weakly bang a fist against his chest, but words stubborn as ever like he’s not filling you up to the brim— “i’m not yours!”

jake’s free hand grabs your face, turning you to look him in the eyes. your core tightens at the look on his face, feeling your cheeks puff up from the hold he has on your cheeks. “so i’ve gotta show you, too, huh?”

before you can ask what he means, his thrusts become quicker, rendering you speechless. broken moans leave your mouth, eyes squeezing shut as a way to ground you as he quite literally splits you in two.

unbeknownst to you, jake’s head turns to where his phone sits and he lets go of your wrists to grab it. he quickly slides his thumb on the screen, switching to video recording and raising it above your body.

“did you like when minhee said you were pr—pretty?” jake grunts in between pants, and your brows furrow, eyes fluttering open to stare at him. you realize he’s recording you, but you had already told him previously he could— whenever. you dismiss it, staring up at him through lidded eyes. you could barely register what he was saying, with his cock hammering into you repeatedly. “i’m surprised hyeongjun didn’t come in his p—pants right there when you touched his— damn— arm.”

a shriek leaves your lips as the knot in your stomach tightens, tears slipping down your cheeks, “j—jake—”

“what better way to mark my territory than to ruin it?” the camera is shaky, but it’s light enough in the room that it gets your face and entire body in the frame. he moves the camera to get his cock sliding in and out of your puffy, abused pussy. juices squelch noisily and he can see the print of his head in your lower abdomen, and his eyes flutter shut. he groans, rutting up into you, “sh—shit—”

jake forces himself to pull out of you, pumping his cock with one hand and focusing the camera on your face with tears still trailing down. he comes with a short whimper, as if he’s biting it back. thick streams of cum land on your face, getting your eyelashes, cheeks, and mouth. your eyes blink open, sticky white on your lashes as you look up at him, “i didn’t—”

“shh,” jake shushes you, rubbing the head of his cock over your lips and smearing his come. “i’m not done with you, yet.” he ends the recording, tossing his phone back on the table.

hours later, as you’re passed out beside him in his bed, he makes sure to send the video to both minhee and hyeongjun, smirking when the read receipts turn from delivered to read.

neither boy looked your way ever again, much to your confusion and jake’s delight.

#cw dubcon #cw noncon #mb credit to m00nbap #jake.txt #enha.txt #writing.txt #🧸🎀 anon #enhypen smut #jake sim smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen #jake smut #kpop smut #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen imagines

[miniwheat77]

Rage. (Mean!Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, ghost being a big meanie, enemies to kinda lovers, hate sex, noncon, choking, (sorry if I missed any.)

This was a request and was edited poorly because I’m lazy. You can find the ask here.

All you ever seemed to get out of Ghost were sighs. No matter what you said or did he seemed to have a problem with it. The few times you tried talking to him he'd huff and turn away from you with a sharp roll of his eyes. After a while, you got fed up with it and ignored him. You did your best to avoid him at all costs. It started snowballing into more. He'd always have something to say when you were around. Always so smug. On occasion if a mission went wrong no matter who's fault it was, he took it out on you. Raising his voice at you, punishing you when Captain Price wasn't around to see it.

He usually black mailed you into it somehow. Telling you that if you didn't obey him, he would go to your Captain. He was quiet around everyone else but always seemed to have the most to say when you were around.

It was tiring. He'd made you run, do push ups, wake up early for drills. He was bordering being abusive. He used his power in his favor and against yours. You contemplated dropping from the task force every once in while, but knew that Captain Price would need an explanation and admitting to what was going on, only put a target on your back even more. You had nowhere to go, you were trapped.

As time went on, you started biting back. When he had something to say, you didn't hold back. Started letting him have a taste of his own medicine. Going as far to annoy him when he made you do push ups or run. You went to bed early so that you were awake and ready for when he gave you drills.

If he was going to make this hell for you, you might as well do it right back.

It was normal. His harassment. He was a bully and you were used to it. You could bite back. Nothing ever really seemed out of the ordinary.

Until the first time he'd put his hands on you.

The power had gone out on the base, which made red lights flash in the hallways, much like in a movie. It was creepy.

You made your way down the hallway to the women's barracks. Nobody but you ever really came down this hallway unless they were coming to ask you a question of course. So when you seen Ghost walking menacingly down the hallway toward you, you were confused. You decided to ignore him, going to walk passed him. The red light illuminated the white on his mask and gloves. It was like something out of a horror movie.

Just as you were about to walk passed him, hands on you had you going to yell out, but he was quick. Clamping a gloved hand over your mouth and slamming your front up against the hard wall. You whimper into his mask at the force of him. He was being aggressive. His deep chuckle is what makes you fight against him, but he draws you back, pushing you hard into the wall again. He wraps his hand around your front, fingertips gliding across your waistline and you freeze, talking into his hand. He doesn't move it, only glides his hand back and fourth, fingertips pushing into your waistband just slightly. His chest was flush with your back and he was holding onto you tight, you could feel his erection pressing into your back. You felt tears pricking at your eyes. He takes in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of you. Following it up with a sigh of satisfaction. "You might as well stop fighting me." They're the first words out of his mouth and they're dark. Laced with venom. "I could do absolutely anything I want to you and there isn't one thing you can do to stop me." He mutters. Breath hot against your ear. "You could scream as loud as you want, beg me to stop and not one soul in this building would hear you. So the next time you want to talk back to me, remember that. You're in one little lonely room all the way off over here and nobody would even know what's going on. I mean.. They didn't notice me disappearing to get these." He lifts up a pair of your cotton panties, and you only sob into his glove harder. You knew he was mean, but this? This was too much.

"Can you stay quiet?" He growls. You nod your head. Tears soaking his glove. He lets out a deep chuckle. He slides his hand away from your mouth and you take in a deep breath. It lasts for only a second before he's lifting your chin to look back at him. "Please stop." You whimper. Earning a chuckle from him. "Awe... Why are you crying hm?" He smiles but he knows you can't see it. You gasp out as his hand slides lower. "Ghost- please don't" You push back into him, which only pisses him off further. “You’ll learn, pathetic little girl. I’ll teach you.” He smiles. “Please, I won’t fight back. I’ll be good.” You mumble. “Oh.. you’ll be good?” He smiles. A deep laugh from him sending chills up your spine. “I know you’ll be good. Because if you’re not…” he trails off. Fingertips gliding over your opening. Only now do you realize, he doesn’t have a glove on his right hand.

“Shit.. you’re wet?” He chuckles. His fingertips glide over your entrance and you’re trying to fight against him now. “Fuck.. you’re actually wet from this. What a little slut.” He grasps a handful of your hair, sliding his hand away from you. “You’re a pathetic girl, Y/N.” He let’s go of your hair, brushing it down with his hand. He moves himself away from you, stepping back. “I’ll see you at dinner.” He turns in the direction you’d just come from, heading back into the mess hall. You watch him for a second, tears still spilling over your eyelids as his dark form illuminatesd by red starts to disappear, Just in time for the lights to return. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

—

You’d just gotten into your room, but you could hear his heavy footsteps approaching your door. He slams it open before you get the chance to lock it behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” He breathes. He’s seething. You’re nervous as you look at him, tears pooling at your waterline. “I did what I had to do.” You breathe. “That’s doing what you had to do? You’re fucking ridiculous.”

His constant nagging has you at your wits end with him.

“Yes. I had no other choice because I was surrounded. If I’m dead, so is everyone else. So yes, I exposed myself on purpose, I called for help. Excuse me for being worried about everyone else around me, unlike you. You selfish motherfuc-“ the breath is knocked out of you when he slams you up against the wall in your bedroom, hand wrapped around your throat. “Did you learn nothing? Stupid girl..” he chuckles. “I learned enough.” Your breath is going away as he tightens his grasp on your throat. Your hands claw at his wrist. He’d cornered you in your room on purpose. “Recite it back to me. So I understand.” He smirks, even if you can’t hear it. You can sense it in his tone of voice. “I’ve learned.. that.. that you’re a complete fucking scumb-“ your face is turning a deep shade of red as he completely cuts your oxygen off. A whimper leaves your lips by accident, and he loosens his grip out of shock before returning it. Only letting you have one second to take in a breath as he tears his mask off. “Fuck- you fucking like this. You like when I’m mean to you don’t you?” He chuckles. Cutting off your air again. Watching you turn red. The little blood vessels in your face are breaking.

“Fuck you” you growl. He lets go completely, smashing his lips to yours and you kiss back immediately. He kisses you hard, purposely being rough with you as he pulls you away from the wall. Shoving you back into your bed. He climbs on top of you, attaching his lips to yours again. He straddles your hips, pulling away from you and taking a second to look down at you. You’ve got a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before. It’s different.

He grasps your vest, making sure to be extra rough with you as he unzips it and tugs it off of you. “Jesus Christ- you don’t have to be so rough!” You growl. “Yeah right, you fucking like it so shut up.” He mutters, grasping the center of your shirt and tearing it down the center. “Ghost!” You gasp. He ignores you, moving down and pushing your legs apart with his knee. Moving himself between your legs. “Just be grateful, little crybaby.” He groans, tugging your cargo pants down your legs. You roll your eyes at him. Nervousness settling into your stomach. “Grateful for what exactly? Prick.” You mumble. A sharp slap to your clit has you whimpering. “Shut up.” He growls, standing himself up off the edge of your bed and tugging you to the edge by your thighs. He kneels down at the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his face between your legs, a gasp leaves your lips. He doesn’t start slow, immediately lapping up your entrance and sucking at your clit. He’s trying to make you as sensitive as possible.

He wants you crying on his cock.

You wrap a hand in his hair, squirming in his grasp but he hold your thighs up against his head. Using your thighs to muffle your sounds. It’s not ideal but he’s got to hold you still. He keeps this up until you’re trying to squirm away from him. Clit overstimulated already. “Simon- please-“ you whimper. Another slap to your pussy instead of his tongue has your body jumping. “I’ll say when you’ve had enough. Now take what I have to fucking give you.” He growls. Tears prick your eyes as he laps at your entrance. Your eyelids the dam holding back the river of tears. You keep it together, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making you cry. You reach your first orgasm with a cry, and he’s right. Nobody will hear it. Your thighs are shaking violently, soaking his face in your cum. But he doesn’t stop.

He flattens his tongue over your sensitive bud, abusing it further.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, he’s finally pulling away from you. “Get on your fucking knees and suck my cock.” He growls.

You obey him, standing up off of your bed as he sits on the edge. You move yourself between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees as he unbuttons his pants. Only far enough to expose himself to you, leaning back into one hand. You take the tip of his cock into your mouth, making an attempt to tease him, but he’s not having it. He wraps a hand into your hair, tugging your head up so you’re looking at him. “Don’t try to tease me. You’ll regret it, take me.” He growls, pushing you down onto his cock, feeling him press up against the back of your throat. Your mouth waters, holding back a gag. You obey him, not wanting to find out the consequences if you don’t. He forces you down into his cock, holding you there and cutting off your air. He watches you turn red on him. Smirking down at you. At his complete mercy. “Fuck yes- yesss.” He growls. He lifts his hips up, thrusting up into your throat. He’s using you, making no attempt to hide it. He lets you breath for a second before forcing you back down onto him for more.

“Your throat is perfect for my cock.” He chuckles. His cock nestled deep into your throat as he blocks the oxygen from reaching your lungs. “You’re perfect like this yeah? That little mouth isn’t fucking running.” You roll your eyes even on his cock which makes him laugh. You’re a brat, through and through. He pulls you off of his cock and you take a few seconds, breathing in oxygen like it’s limited. “Hands and knees, now.” He grasps your arm, forcefully pulling you up off of the ground and pushing you onto the bed. You stop yourself with your hands, looking back at him. Despite how much of a prick he is, it’s quite the sight.

Disheveled hair, cock blushing and standing at attention. Fit stomach and chest, tattooed arms with veins and muscles bulging as he tugs your ass back into him. You turn forward, blushing to yourself. Every cell in your body prays he doesn’t see it, worried at him finding something else to bully your for. He notices it, but chooses to keep quiet as he grasps the base of his fat cock, pushing the thick tip up against your swollen mound. It’s red and abused from his tongue. He smirks at the work he’s done to you. The thick mushroom head pushes passed your folds, and he groans as you swallow him up. Like your pussy was made for him. He slides into you with complete ease despite the way you’re tightening around him. He reaches your wall, smirking as he bottoms out. He was gentle for a start, but he draws his hips back and slams himself back into you, right up to the hilt. A cry leaves your lips and it only eggs him on further. Abusing your cervix with his cock.

A harsh slap to your ass is what sends you over the edge, his balls hitting your overly sensitive clit with every thrust he takes into you. You can’t take it, tears slipping from your eyes at his abuse. He’s for sure leaving handprints, squeezing at your hips as hard as he can, bullying your cunt with his cock. When a sob leaves your lips, he laughs. Actually laughs at you. “That’s right, cry for me. Pathetic crybaby.” He chuckles. His stomach is already swirling with his orgasm, he loves hearing you cry, he loves seeing you cry. He slides out of you, pushing you over and moving himself on top of you. He pushes your thighs up until they’re pressed against your stomach, sliding into you once more. Deeper this time. He has to see it, has to see you cry on his cock. You’re pulling around him, sobbing even harder as you feel him bottoming out into your cervix, stomach cramping up at the size of him. “Simon please- it’s too much-“ you cry. He groans. “One second..” he pants. “Just- just one more second.” He groans.

He leans down into you, tongue gliding up your cheek. Soaking up each tear that stains your face. Moaning at the taste.

He reaches between the both of you, rubbing quick circles over your clit as you start to squirm. “One more. You can give me one more.” He growls. “No- I can’t!” You cry. “You can. You will. You can cry all you want princess.” He smirks down at you. His degrading is almost too much. He likes to see you like this. He sets a steady pace with his thrusts, slowing the circles he’s drawing into your clit with his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to what you hope is your final orgasm. “You’re going to take it, all of me.” He chuckles. It takes a second for you to realize what he means. You shake your head and he nods his head with an evil smile playing at his lips. “Yeah baby. You’re going to take all of this cum that I have to give to you-” He smiles, wrapping a hand around your throat and growling. Just when you think kindness shines through the concrete walls of his facade, he’s painting back over it with black tar. He cuts off your air once more. “-and you’re going to fucking thank me for it.” He growls. When he lets go of you, another sob leaves your lips as you reach another orgasm, clit throbbing so hard that it almost hurts. His hips halt, an evil laugh leaving his lips. He’s filled you up with his cum despite your protests. “Look at that, pathetic fucking crybaby.” He smirks. Your eyes are heavy as you whimper out. Even now, he’s still mean.

“Get cleaned up and meet in the Gym for your punishment.” He growls, sliding his cock back into his cargo pants and zipping them back up before leaving you there. Cum seeping out of your abused hole, tear stained cheeks. You sit up, body feeling weak. You don’t know how you’re going to make it through his next punishment.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #ghost smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty