#dub non con

[widowsofchaos]

could you please do prompt 168 with carol x fem reader? if you’re comfortable writing that of course:)

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐭

synopsis: Trying to find peace at your job’s gala, but a familiar haunting shadow finds you once more.

pairing: dark!Carol Danvers x brown!fem!reader

ao3 // modern au // 5k words.

warnings: dubious wlw smut (forced stimulation, vaginal fingering), stockholm syndrome, toxic established relationship, domestic violence, mention of childhood abuse.

a/n: Carol’s outfit reference. title is a reference to the song, Mary by Alex G. requested 168. “Don’t get too close to that one, she’ll singe your fingertips and have you on your knees.” from this dialogue prompt list. dog metaphors, because I must write pain. Channeled my inner amy dunne for Carol. I’m sorry that I’m just finishing this 2 years later, but I hope whoever requested this, I hope you see this! <3

“She became the parent, the lover, the friend you’ve always craved for—- and yet, here you are,”

The truth can sting, just the sharp tip of a knife, flickering at the raw flesh. Poking and prodding till there’s small plots of ichor forming.

“——broken…” Her index finger arched, halting her words, still a vivid memory, “…. but not beyond repair.”

A scoff escapes.

“What is love without hate, I guess.” Unconsciously it spewed from your lips, the vowels felt like acidic vomit. A pregnant silence arose.

That all knowing head tilt, with those observant eyes—- always earned uncomfortable tension within you.

“Love isn’t meant to be confused with hate.”

The cigarette burns slow between your clenched fingers, nursing three fingers deep. Brown liquor swishes against the carved rocks glass, its clear silver grooves twinkles under the gala’s vermilion hues.

Fragments of words compulsively knock against the walls of your brain; as you mull at the gala’s open bar. A scorned woman who just wants peace, and quiet. Lingering stains of hurt that can last a lifetime settles to silence for once in a long time.

Showered an ugly duckling with affections, and built the pillars of security. Growing up in a childhood filled with anxiety and fear of attachments, lingering stains of abuse from the very beings who birthed you into this world.

She cleaned you, bandaged the scars, and assured you that she was the only one who adored you—- persisted that she was the only one who would.

Now, fighting violently in the legal battlefield of divorce, these past weeks have been mentally exhausting —- all whilst handling the burdening responsibilities of your profession.

Your very mind and hands helped craft this sophisticated gallery.

Your boss, Mr. Laufeyson, opened a new exhibit in the National art museum—- Norse history, one of his niche fixations. A man birthed on Norwegian soil, but raised in the monarchal land of England.

An established man who often seeks to explore the rich culture of his ancestors with much sophisticated adoration, and esteem. The Norse exhibit is now the largest section of the institution, with vast collections of rare artifacts protected behind hard stainless glass.

He breathed down your neck for long weeks, you had the task of restoring each piece that had been brought in, nearly breaking your damn back from all the hovering.

A gala bustling with a sea of middle-class folk, and self-proclaimed aristocrats of New York. You sought solace at the open bar, smoking a stogie—- and slipping into the whiskey.

It wasn’t a preferred choice, but it helps give a quick kick to your nerves. Seeking solitude away from pressures to gallant with faux professionalism, and an particular noisy friend, who should be presenting the Norse gods section.

Earlier, she was pestering with a thousand questions flying by the mouth —- if you ever gave thought to rekindling with Carol.

Dissociating into a mindless static, flickering at your clear square nails, as your cigarette burns slowly. At first, the mention of this exhibit with your boss months ago sent you into a frenzy of joy, but now—- it’s a dreadful experience.

All you long for is to start your weekend, to cuddle with your daug—-

“What an incredible scent you have—-”

Oh God, no.

“—- is that Histoires de Parfums, 1969?”

Fuck.

“I haven’t been around that perfume in a long time.”

It’s as if she can smell you a mile away.

A sensual, purring voice whispers near you. A shadowing silhouette eclipses the shimmering ceiling lights from your peripheral vision.

Your lips wrinkle, restraining the foreboding tears of frustration. Tightly nodding, swallowing a sob. Your breathing becomes heavier.

A hum, “It really smells wonderful.” With precision, the shadow sits onto the empty seat beside you.

“Thank you.” A forced smile curls at your mouth.

“With that scent, I’m surprised you’re not being hounded by the men here tonight.” A subtle wordplay, are you looking for anyone tonight?

As if your mind has forgotten all the bad, and reminisces on the good, all the fun, all the beauty that once blossomed.

“It’s not men I'm looking for.” You whisper, snuffing the cigarette into a provided ash-tray. A creamy hand strokes your knuckles, and your skin shivers under your blouse.

A jolt to your groin, and your breath hitches. All she can do is just touch you, and it’s as if you can get on your knees, and forgive her for everything.

“Why?”

You can see that pearly grin, from the corner of your eye, teasing and twisting.

“They’re too easy to hunt?”

You exhale a chuckle, eyes still trained onto the glistening counter.

“They bore me.”

“So—” Her voice lulls as a moan, “—- see anyone worthwhile?” Her fingers curl around your glass, twirling it by the rim. Your lipstick stain faces her direction, and bold as always, she lifts for a sip. Connecting the lip stain to hers, her eyes never leave yours.

It’s not tacky, nor forceful. How she moves is as if it is her nature.

Your eyes gaze over your shoulder, taking a full look. Finally, to drink in the force of nature that is your estranged wife—- Carol.

Her blonde tresses cascade on her shoulders, milky breasts on display. A pristine, black dress, that cuts and splits at the chest hem, polished nails, and clean skin. Her dress halts near her knees.

“Well, I have my eye on a blonde tonight.” You say timidly. Tenderly, your eyes glance fleetingly, a quick trace over Carol’s bodice, nearly losing your composure.

A pregnant pause.

That pretty pink mouth stretches smugly, as if the cat that got the cream. The hooks caught the flesh.

“You like blondes.”

Her tone lingers as an open question, guising the truth.

“Just one in particular.”

Sinking now, the hooks are tugging.

“Really?” Carol leans, her eyes hooded. “Which one?” Pretending to scan her eyes across the ocean of people.

But your eyes remain fixated on her. As if you were a lost puppy, just gazing at its human. Lucidly, influcating between the spaces of yearning, and guilt.

How at ease Carol is, as if nothing was wrong. The charming woman, the woman you thought she was. The woman she wanted you to think she was.

“The one in the black dress.” You say softly, and defeated brown eyes.

Carol’s eyes gaze back at you from the corner of her oculus, downcasting with a mirth, humming a chuckle. “Don’t get too close to that one, she’ll singe your fingertips and have you on your knees.” She shakes her head, an enticing warning.

A dangerous but delicious fruit hanging at your reach. She wants you to take the bait, urging you to—- to get you back in her grasp, and if she does, she won’t let you go.

This game, a cat and mouse play, is all too familiar. Playing as strangers, attracted together by lust, and curiosities—- the type of curiosity to feel the other’s flesh, subtle carnality. Act out, with playful words, pretend to be different people.

It slowly suffocates you, a twang in your chest, a reminder that this isn’t normal.

She isn’t normal.

Carol can be an array of personalities, she can be the doting wife, the whore in bed, the mother—- she can be the bitch with a violent mouth. Different faces for different folk, no one knows her true self, and she’s good at it —- real good.

So, when you tried to seek help from friends, they couldn’t believe it, nor did they want to. You’re not surprised that Carol snuck into the gala—- your co-worker, Maria, who you thought was a true friend —- the matchmaker from hell, let her in, unknowingly allowing the terror onto you.

But, that’s no surprise. Maria has been Carol’s right hand since their days in the Air Force.

None of your friends believe you—- and, it’s hurtful to admit, you’re too scared to speak about all the hurt Carol made you endure over the years.

Barely spoke of the discomfort Carol used against you, and all your shared friends thought you misinterpreted. All saying that Carol is just head-strong, and that you two are perfect together.

Carol feeds the fire with a ‘She’s just going through a tough time.’

Boundaries aren’t respected, everyone trying to push you back together, inviting Carol in social events —- to the point where you didn’t go out anymore, and just drowned in work.

“I like challenges.” Carol softly leans in, her breath fans the bare skin of your shoulder, “All the more fun when I win.” Her voice drops low, to a wispy whisper.

Her body heat engulfs you, and your eyes droop with haziness for a slick second. You can’t—- not again. No matter how intoxicating she can be, how delicious, it’s not worth your peace.

You’re too drunk for this.

“This cat is too tired to entertain.”

“Who said you were the cat?” Carol’s brow arches, halting you in your step. Carol’s infliction hardens, from the corner of your oculus, you can see the clench of her jawline. That pretty mouth morphed into a restrained frown, the same one you see before a punishment.

An offense has been made.

“I didn’t realize the roles were switched.”

The mask slips.

It’s always her way, her rules. Because no matter how clever, how coy the mouse can be, the cat always wins.

“You’re getting brave on me?” Carol asks.

And now the mask has been dropped.

“I think it’s best I leave.” You quickly collect yourself, a bit wobbly from the alcohol. Leaning against the counter to regain your composure, trying to stand upright.

Not this time. You won’t fall for her charm.

Carol sucks her teeth, “You’re seriously going to leave? Aren’t you tired of this childish bullshit?” Crossing her arms against her chest, lips wrinkling into a scowl. Carol talks as if scolding a child.

Your body twists in a haste, “My bullshit?” Your teeth are gritting harshly, hissing. Angry eyes pierce over the hill of your shoulder, fingernails digging into the leather of your purse; if not the leather, her eyes preferrable.

But this is a place of work, no matter how elegant the night is, you will scream if you have to—- just to escape her. You click your tongue, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I mean I’m usually amused by your brattiness,” Carol laughs sarcastically. “But, now it’s gotten too far.” Her fingertips graze your arm, toying with you, soft and playful—— her fingers grasp your arm in a clutch, earning a whine.

Her eyes are hooded, nearly tugging you downwards. A whine bubbles at the pit of your throat, too terrified to even move.

“You have to come back home.” Carol says, a strain to be sweet, but it’s as if a monster tries to be human. “I miss you.” She purrs, but her eyes … are cold, and agitated.

You remain silent, closing your eyes shut, gliding down in your seat. “Carol… have you signed the divorce papers, yet?” Your eyes stay glued to the sticky counter.

Carol chuckles, “You’re going to try to talk business to me, and you can’t even look me in the eye?” Her baby pink polished nails thump against the bar, thump thump thump.

“I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“And neither do I.” She sips her drink, smirking into the cup, “But it seems my wife likes to play games.” So light, so sarcastic, chastising you as if this was a running joke on your end.

“Carol, for fucks sake.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, “You made me go crazy.” You bite on those words, full teeth. Fingers curling into makeshift claws, vowels spilling as acidic vomit.

“Controlled me, like I was your puppet.” Your fingers curl and slither in gesture. “Manipulated me against the world, against our friends.” Your mouth opened again, the words weighing heavy against your mouth, but a hum interrupted.

“Look up at me when you talk.” Carol says, your eyes peer up through your lashes, owlishly. “If you’re going to lie, you might as well make it convincing.” She licks her lips, tasting the remnants of her liquor.

“I —- I—” you can’t find the words to even respond. You stare at her incredulously, she will never admit to it. Even now, she has you questioning your own sanity, if it was even worth fighting against her.

It’s not worth screaming about it. Not anymore.

“I have to go.” Swiftly, you stand up, with a bated breath.

“That’s how you talk to the mother of your child?”

Stiffening, as the hairs that align a cat’s spine, “Don’t you dare!” Your index finger pointing, shouting in a hush. “Stop using Kamala against me—” your voice wavers, throat nearly choking a sob, “You did enough of that in court.” Big brown eyes sheening wet, the last nerve shot.

Trying to maintain a level of calm, eyes fluttering back and forth around, seeing if anyone has witnessed your outburst.

“I don’t even have to do that,” Carol’s open palm gestures to your rigid stance, “she can see perfectly fine how erratic you’ve been.” Carol hisses, making your nose scrunch up.

Kamala adores — idolizes— Carol. So memorized by her strong, willful mother, since she was a waddling baby.

You haven’t dared utter a bad word about Carol in-front of Kamala, fearing to shatter the fragile bubble you curated as a shield for her. You wouldn’t let her witness the court meetings, especially the negotiations of joint custody.

By every fiber of your being, you’ve tried to make this separation as discreet as possible—- but Carol has been a devil, bulldozing those efforts. To make you appear as the bad parent.

You can’t stand her lawyer, Carol hired one who hails from Hell’s Kitchen—- fitting since he’s a thorn upon your rib. Subtlety bringing up your mental health, questioning your abilities as a mother —- no doubt, Carol was chewing his ear off about your past.

All Kamala knows is that her mothers are splitting up, with foreign lawyers, and that she now has to split weekends��- those pained brown eyes, her puffed cheeks, it kills you deeply—- all the guilt weighs on you, it feels as if you’re to blame for all the problems.

“You’ve taken so much from me, Carol.” You lean in, kneeling at her eye level. “My dignity, my peace— shit— even my sanity.” Your body anxiously fidgeting, breath quickening.

“But I will not, let you take my child away from me.” Your fingers dive into your purse, fumbling with irate, snagging the last cash you had—- with the finality of this conversation, slamming the money onto the marble countertop.

You carried Kamala, incubated inside you for nine months, fed her from your breast—- you will not lose her, not over your cold dead body.

“Goodnight, Carol.”

Sharply, you turn on your heel, leaving Carol without turning back. Walking with a gait, faking confidence, but truly at your core, a gnawing sense of uneasiness.

-

The corridor stretches as a miniature maze, the more you descend out of the gala, the less crowded it is. Turning left and right, trying to find the exit.

The ambiance is of grainy gray, the tinted blurred windows are foggy with the night’s shadows.

The echoes of clicking heels are faint, your mind doesn’t register, as your own feet and mind are stuck on auto-pilot.

“There she goes again,” an agitated voice snags your attention, brows furrowing, “always acting like the little victim.”

Not granted the chance to realize, in a flash, just as quick as you turned your head, rough hands grab you by the curve of your shoulders, throttling you against the chilled wall pavement.

Earning a hiss, and a gasp, stinging pain births and stretches along the muscles of your spine. Quickly, your fingers fruitlessly try to claw at Carol’s, but all it does is make her more enraged.

Carol thrashes you once more against the wall, and another for good measure; airy gasps of pain escapes you, tears beading at your lashes. That militant discipline seeps from her pores, it’s not a stranger to you, the rough edges of her touch is a familiar bruise.

“It may have worked with the rest of the world,” Carol barks in your face, nose to nose, “but it’s not going to work with me.”

Sniffling, your chin wobbles, trying to restrain a sob that burns your throat raw.

Carol hums, that tut of a sympathetic mother, “Look at us.” Her thumbs rubbing your shoulders, pressing on the blooming bruises. “I don’t like it when we fight.

Eerily, she influcates from predator to savior, “You always get erratic, and you know it upsets me.” Leaning in, her pink lips press a kiss on a falling tear.

“Where’s my special girl?” Carol whispers. Fear is beating inside of you, buzzing as tv static. Staring at Carol through your hooded lids, terrified, and confused.

Carol purrs, awaiting for an answer.

“I’m here.” Barely a murmur, you speak softly.

Carol thrives off of her aggression. But it’s not the traditional masculinity that some women possess in their personalities. She feels it’s the only gift her father ever gave her.

“It’s very cute that you try to fight me.” Carol mocks, her knuckles stroke your cheek. Carol hums, her eyes tracing over every facial feature.

“Let me see if she missed me.”

A string of no no no slip from you meekly.

One of Carol’s hands graze over your shoulder, twirling her fingers into your hair—- gripping between her fingers tightly. To then cup the nape of your neck, her thumb pressing slightly over your pulse point.

As she has you pinned by the scruff, her other hand flows down your cavlices, to your clothed breast—- she snags the collar to expose skin.

Groping a handful of your tit, she mutters still so soft, traveling down the path of your navel—- with a quick precision, Carol snatches your groin; more like clawing.

A sharp gasp escapes you, and all she does is laugh.

A quick glance at the end of the hallway, praying that nobody turns the corner. Carol snickers. “Afraid someone will catch us?” You exhale a huff, nose flaring.

“I remember you used to be quite adventurous.”

“That’s when I was young and stupid.”

Her eyes narrow, pinching your vagina in her hand even tighter. With her knee, she wedges her thigh between your shaky legs, spreading you more open.

Slithering her hand through the stitched fabric, her knuckles stroking your sensitive skin. Your breathing becomes heavier, and all she does is smirk.

Moving your panties to the side, Carol’s makes herself home to your body. Ashamed to feel yourself grow wet, and Carol moans.

“It seems she missed me.”

All unbridled frustration hits the hilt, you cry in a stretched whine, thrashing in her hold. In need to escape, you wanted to go home, away from her.

All these weeks of trying to flee from her, do the right thing to gain custody, to live a good life, give your daughter stability —- all of it goes down the drain by her simple touch.

Beating on her arms with fists, slapping and trying to knee her in a weak spot. Carol’s eyes darken—- as if she’s bored of the insolence.

Carol pushes her weight onto you, pinning to the wall. And her fingers don’t cease on her assault.

“I hate you.” You choke on a wail, your head tilting up as a child.

“I’ve saved you.” An expert circular motion of her fingertips, sending a jolt to your bundle of nerves.

“Who else can say that?” Carol leans in, her head tilting, as her lips meet your cheek.

Softly, she kisses you, caressing and grazing against the skin of your cheek.

“I took care of you, and you just want to leave?” Carol’s pink tongue slithers between her lips, licking and nibbling. Boldly, her fingers dove between your folds, playing with your wetness.

“You wanted a savior, baby, I’m it.” The bridge of Carol’s nose traces yours, humming at the wet sensation of your tears. “You were nothing before me—-” another finger plunging inside you, “—- and you will be nothing after me.”

“I — I — would rather be alone.” You say with a stammer, lips wet with tears. Mouth curling into a brave scowl, regaining some bravery, “I’ll be fine.”

Carol’s face leans a little back, tilting her head mockingly. “When I say nothing after me, I mean it—-” Carol’s teeth bare as fangs, “you’ll be buried six feet deep, before I let you go.” Her fingers grip the nape of your neck, tugging you in.

“No one can ever have you.” She whispers.

Your eyes are owlish, you don’t doubt her…. her time in the boot camp was extensive, you felt her trained strength many times—- she loves like a knife. Many bruises healed over the years.

Not brutal beatings, but very handsy.

A glimmer of fear suffocates you, your body keels as a leashed dog.

Her fingers slither against your peach fuzz, slipping between your mound, toying with your wetness. Splitting your velvety folds apart, Carol vulgarly strokes you with her fingers sloppily, staining the hem of your panties.

Carol grinds herself onto your thigh, you can feel a wet spot pooling at her silk panties. Your fingers are digging into her forearms. A rough dance of humping and grinding, both reaching for a high.

Your wet walls can’t help but suck her inside, clenching tight. Fiercely plunging in and out—— it’s been some time. Since the last time, you were touched. It’s bordering on painful, a bit tight.

You did entertain another for a while. A woman you met at a bar. Short dark chestnut hair, a soft posh english accent, a bold yet cheeky mouth. She said her name was G’iah, you never met anyone with such a name.

Despite the attraction, the idea of offering yourself physically was too overwhelming. But, the emotional energy was wonderful. It was a breath of fresh air.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to love another.

Skin screaming for touch, yet your heart is trying to fight back. The flesh only reminisces the good, but all the hurtful memories are chained to your mind.

Carol’s mouth ajar, hovering over the meat of your cheek. Your face scrunches, eyes tight, a whine boils at your throat. She breathes a chuckle. She always finds amusement in your misery.

Carol loves to play God—- the Old Testament God. In the carnal sense, and in spite. Worship her, and only need her, obey every command, but commit a sin—- and she shall see to it, that her pettiness will rule over your life.

Her fingers spread, your slick connects to her fingertips, flickering the gossamer thin threads between her expert fingers, diving into you.

Her teeth grazes your cheek, her warm breath cascading against your mouth. Torn between closing your thighs to stop her, or thrust your hips into her hand.

Carol’s tongue slips out, and kitten licks your parted lips. Her pink tongue licks your canines, inhaling your breath. Sweet scent of liquor coats your tongue, Carol suckles into her mouth, moaning at the taste.

A lewd pop comes from Carol pulling back on your tongue, as her fingers curl harsher. Bordering on pain, the pleasure is electric. Pulsing through you, as her thumb toys with your swollen clit.

Her moans are animalistic, you can feel her pussy splitting, a sensation of silk and waxed bare skin. Her clit is grinding fully onto your thigh. It feels so damn good.

A part of you wants her to cum on you. To use you.

Carol’s face tilts away from yours. Her brown eyes swirl with malice, narrowing for a split moment. A smile stretches.

“Kamala would be so hurt to lose her mommy—” Carol’s words earn a mean eye from you, but all she does is laugh humorlessly. “How could you abandon our child?”

Like a stab to your heart, Carol just twists the edge deeper. Her fingers still deep inside you, clenching in need for her to finish— to get you right at the precipice.

“I would never leave Kamala,” you speak with a strain, a rough slice at your throat. “I love her.” Bordering on pleading, your eyes water-sunk.

“Then why do you make her cry?”

“What?”

“Every night she asks why her mom isn’t home,” Carol leans more of her weight on your belly. Her fingers fucking you harshly, hitting that sweet spot so perfectly. Your juices are now soaking down her hand.

“She cries till she falls asleep. She thinks you hate her.”

Torn between rutting your hips into her palm, grinding and fucking her fingers as if it was one of Carol’s toys —- and the need for space, to free yourself from these clutches.

Salty tears fall to your wrinkling lips, shaking from silent tears.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Carol says, her voice smooth and affectionate. Her lips pouted, “We can be together again.” Her shiny blonde hair kisses her lashes, in the grainy city lights, she looks innocent.

“Don’t you want to be a family again?”

She pushes her fingers further, slowly playing with your clit— and then stops, edging you. She can feel your spongy walls nearly spasming. Carol knows how to play the strings of your flesh.

Damn her.

“I do.” Your voice gurgles in a sob.

You know she’s tricking you… and you enjoy it.

In some deep seeded—- an absolutely fucked —- part of you, relishes in it. Because it’s all you know. But, it’s that glimmer of tenderness, the kisses, and honeyed words that pulls you back in.

Back to mutilate yourself on her knife over and over again. And isn't that what love is? Carol would say, time and time again, after the dust settles from her fits of rage.

Wet squelching floods your ears, echoing throughout the empty hallway. Your hand trails to her waist, gripping her dress, roughly grazing the smooth skin of her waist.

Legs entangled, and Carol’s thrusts are getting faster, sloppy. Her moans are getting high-pitched, away from primal and more girlish.

You cling to her, in this moment, you just need to feel anything. And you know she needed it too.

A burst of euphoria, hanging onto each other, as if both would fall apart. Carol felt it, how you spasmed on her fingers. Clenching so tight, trapping her hand for a moment.

Bated breaths dance against each other, hair flying by the breeze of huffing. Yours are gasps of relief.

In a desperate plea, you reach for a kiss, but Carol pulls away.

“I hope you learned something …” Carol hisses, her fingers stroking between your slippery folds, agitating your over-stimulated clit. The meat of your thigh quivers, tailbone pinching as you try to mesh into the wall, far from her.

Carol takes her fingers out, leaving behind an empty feeling—- like a void. Without blinking, Carol unabashedly suckles on her two fingers, tasting you.

“I hope you make the right decision.” Carol whispers against her tips. Pulling her warm weight off of your bodice, a chill sweeps against the tepid sense of your belly.

Carol hums for a moment with a stony face. She tugs on the collar of your dress, the top of your bosom exposed —- it was a stiff gesture.

Without a word, Carol posed her spine, and walked away, a snide side-eye.

Leaving you behind with an ache between your thighs, love bites across your chest, and fresh bruises. Left behind in the chilled hallway, and in wrinkled attire —- as if you were a used whore.

Your head falls, crying into your chest. Your fingers pulling your dress down, your inner thighs tender. Your fingertips touch the wet spot Carol left behind near your knee.

A pause.

It’s wrong, but you crave her taste. Suckling your fingertips into the cave of your mouth.

You can still smell her fragrance lingering—- and yet, you crave it, hoping it clung to your dress.

-

Timid footfalls carry you through the high-end residential hallway. Bated breath, and in wrinkled clothes, you lift and loosely drop your luggage in your grip. Pacing back and forth, trying to salvage any scrap of courage to knock.

Your head is bowing down, chin to chest. A stop in-front of the door. The reasoning motivating your surrender blurs—- is it for Kamala only, or is it also that a loyal dog who always forgives?

A silent white flag has been waived.

A lonely dog always comes back.

Dull steps creep closer, syncing with the beat of your heart. One unlock, and another follows. Defeat seeps from your pores, a bone-rattling warning siren echoing in the rush of your ears.

The door knob slowly twists, as if she’s mocking you. But not a second more, the door creaks open. Green eyes blink back with mirth, and a smile.

No words are needed.

Carol hums, stroking your hair, fingers gliding down the terrain of your neck, guiding you inside by the nape of your neck.

-

Awaiting on the bed is a silk nightie, and skincare, curated by Carol’s choice. Pristine, wrinkled-free silk. Not one flaw in sight.

She knew you would come back. A cocky woman, and yet she’s never wrong. A stir of irate coils in your belly, but it’s snuffed before it can disrupt.

-

In the dark, you tip-toe down the hall. Elated and relieved, it felt like a century crept by, but it was only a week of separation.

Weekends weren’t enough. You needed to see her everyday.

Brown fingers slowly grasp at the knob, twisting open. The white walls are adorned by the flash of a night light that glows small stars glimmering against the ceiling.

A room of action figures, anime, music posters and a wall dedicated to her drawings. That familiar scent that never really went away, that baby smell that clung to her as an infant.

Kneeling into her bed, curling under the blanket. Legs curling underneath you, knees bent, as you caress Kamala’s scalp, furling her hair behind the shell of her ear. Your brown fingers melt into the onyx shine of her tresses.

Her sleepy cheeks puffed, she looks like a sleeping cherub. Silently, tears cascade against the hill of your nose, staining the pillow sheet.

For months, you’ve tried to conjure ideas on how to run away from this life with Kamala, but all your ideas end up in the possible reality of being arrested with charges of kidnapping, and never seeing your daughter again.

The truth of the matter is -— you will crawl skin bare in the deepest parts of hell just for her. Suffering silently in these marital ruins, for the sake of being able to raise your only child, is what you will do.

You don’t know what you want with Carol —- you don’t have anything else to offer as a wife, besides submitting your entire being as a sacrificial offering.

It’s all she ever wanted. Wholesome love is seen as a defect in Carol’s eyes, a trait taught to her by her father. Control over everything is what brings her peace. And being cared for is what brings you solace.

The only person in the world Carol doesn’t unleash her wrath upon, who she adores entirely, is Kamala. Never once has Carol raised her voice, nor her hand at Kamala.

It’s disturbing, to see Carol be so genuine in her affections.

But, you’re ever so grateful. Despite being a masochist, under all the rubble harboring in your cavity— is a little girl suffocating for tenderness. For anything, just for someone to hold her.

Carol is a peculiar creature, and yet she has driven you to the brink of madness over the last stretched months, because she can’t bear to lose you —-- that has to mean something, right?

But as you lay here, wallowing in the dead silence, staring at Kamala slumbering —-a thought came to you; a lingering fear. Paranoia gnawing at you, chewing away bit by bit.

You wouldn’t want Kamala to suffer like this one day.

#widowsofchaos wrote this #carol danvers x reader #dark Carol Danvers x reader #carol danvers x female reader #dub non con #dark elements #lesbian Carol Danvers

[rainstormsdarling]

A Court Across Seas and Stars

Summary:

In present-day Edinburgh, Feyre Archeron is having a morning like any other – filled with research for her PhD in art history and endless cups of tea. Suddenly a mysterious and extraordinary man appears, and she is drawn to his side compelled by his dark allure. Searching for a way to get him home to Prythian, she follows a path that sweeps her not only into realising her true power and passion, but also into the arms of male that is not of her world. But Rhys and Feyre must confront their own histories that haunt them in different ways, and question where they truly belong. In what begins with a search for the truth, Feyre finds herself torn between two worlds and two irreconcilable choices; love or her life.

Chapter 1:

Edinburgh, Scotland - 21st December 2022 (Winter Solstice)

When Feyre thinks about all the work she has to complete by the end of the month, she feels paralysed. So mostly, she doesn't. Instead, she paints. Painting wasn’t just a productive form of procrastination in her opinion, but there was also something deeply therapeutic about mixing paints or creating something soulful with her hands. On this particular winter morning, a heady scent of earl grey tea, banana bread, and oil paints filled the air of her tiny Edinburgh flat and drifted over to the 2nd story window that was cracked a third of the way open - as far as it could go - where condensation was starting to drip down onto the weathered and flaking sill.  

She lifted the canvas off of its mounts, haphazardly placing it on the kitchen benchtop between an assortment of reference books, thick stacks of paper, open laptop, and freshly baked banana bread littered on the hardwood countertop. Her colleagues at the art gallery would be happy with her new contribution and it was at least a productive form of procrastination, right? She rationalised as she grabbed another piece of banana bread before devouring it. She needed a break from the pressure of ever-drawing closer deadlines during the penultimate year of her doctoral research, and undertaking a PhD in art history made that 3rd piece of banana bread very much well deserved. Even if it was 9 AM on a Wednesday morning and she should be well on her way to the library right now.

After dropping off half of the banana bread to the art history building and stopping for a quick cup of tea and catch up with her fellow researchers, later that morning Feyre made her way across campus in the mid-winter mist, frost nipping at the tip of her nose and bitter gusts of wind blowing tendrils of her dark hair that had fallen free from her bun away from her face.

Outside the library she stomped her boots, flicking off little droplets of rain and wayward leaves, before pushing through the great doors. This early in the morning the library was clear and mostly empty, and she made her way up to the seventh floor, where she took her usual spot on a desk hidden amongst the rarely visited section on reference materials for the history and philosophy of renaissance art. Sitting down with a quiet sigh, she took out her laptop and supplies, glancing out the rain-streaked window before opening a spreadsheet and starting work for the day.

She worked through lunch and into the early evening, absentmindedly twirling her pen in knots through her dark hair. Thoroughly engrossed in the statistical minefield of the dataset she was working on; she almost didn’t notice when she felt rather than heard a heavy thud from behind her. Scrunching her eyebrows, she looked up just as another rumble sent dust falling from the wooden beams above her head. ‘Hello?’ She called, blinking rapidly and jumping to her feet. Creeping tentatively down the corridor, it felt like all the many particles in the air were vibrating around her.

Something about the dimly lit stacks at the end of the hallway called to Feyre; a sense that she was stepping towards something intended to be unseen, unnoticed. But a low thrum echoed in her blood and in her bones, urging her onwards. The air around her felt noticeably cooler now, almost freezing, as she reached the final row of shelves. As if all the windows in the library had been thrown open to the icy winter wind. Peering around the corner, her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Crouched on the ground, surrounded by scattered books and loose pages in varying degrees of damage, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Everything about the man in front of her seemed to exude danger, and yet she could not for the life of her stop staring at him. Dark hair fell across his forehead in a disarray of midnight blue-black strands offsetting his suntanned face. His white dress shirt was partially untucked from his black leather pants and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, displaying strong forearms that were covered in whorls of dark ink. The tattoos flowed under his shirt, over his chest where they peeked through the unbuttoned neckline, and up his neck. She had an inkling the strange markings continued down the rest of him, too, but as her eyes travelled downwards, she caught the hilt of a vicious looking dagger strapped to his side. Although dishevelled, there was no denying the dark allure that seemed to radiate from him. Uneasy, she stepped backwards, and directly into the bookshelf behind her. A gasp slipped past her parted lips as he sharply glanced up at her, his features as stinging as cut glass.

Before she could blink, the stranger had drawn a sword into his right hand from where it was sheathed against his spine. It sang as he swept it through the air, holding it at her neck. She glanced down at the sword, and angled her chin higher, swallowing deftly. The blade's length was inscribed with runic letters which emitted a faint yellow light, casting shadows from where he pointed it at her. Her heart pounded like a drum, but she kept her focus on his eyes as she asked faintly, ‘Do you need any help? I - heard a loud noise...’

Pale blue-violet eyes narrowed as they scrutinised her, piercing in their intensity against his golden skin. So intensely deep that she felt like she could fall into a thousand skies full of stars if she stared into them long enough.

‘Who are you?’ He said finally. The cadence of his voice, deep and even, but rough around the edges sent shivers along her skin and spread goosebumps in their wake. It was a rich, cultured voice, accented in a way she had never heard of. It wasn’t exactly said as a question either, but more of an order, and Feyre bristled at the command in his tone.

‘Who are you ?’ she challenged, raising an eyebrow. Realising as soon as she said it that it probably wasn't the smartest to question a stranger alone, and who was holding what looked like a very real and very sharp looking sword to her neck. She nervously glanced down at the sword once more, then back to him. Although, she certainly hadn’t noticed him in the library before, and she would have, without a doubt. Feyre’s mouth dried out. Great, she was literally being held at - sword point - and she was thinking about his looks? She supposed some people must find him irresistibly attractive, in a basely sexual sort of way, if they could get past the unsettling aura of carnal danger and depravity that emanated from him.

The man languidly stepped out of his crotch, lifting the sword with him so the blade maintained its perfect balance at her throat. Feyre pressed her back closer against the bookshelf behind her as he rose to his full height with sensual grace. He would have to be at least a whole foot taller than her, six foot five or more, and her breath caught in her throat as he prowled closer. His eyes seemed to twinkle in dark amusement as they beheld her in front of him, a half-smile playing on his lips, like he could smell the emotions coursing through her. As if he could hear her traitorous heart beating furiously in her chest.

His smile curled upwards as she willed her heartbeat and breathing to calm, this man was clearly an actor or performer. The billowy shirt, tight leathers, the long sword, merely costume for a peculiar period-drama the university’s theatre department currently had in season.

Carefully he stepped around the books strewn across the floor, only stopping once he faced her, not more than a metre away, studying her with a predator’s gaze. Her shoulders stiffened with his close proximity.

‘I’ll ask you again, who are you and where have you brought me?’

‘What do you mean where have I brought you? All I heard was you thumping around back here and I came over to check if you were alright.’ She swallowed thickly, and with narrowed eyes she surveyed him once more, taking in the fine leather boots that appeared to be half-heartedly concealing more blades. He made an impatient sound and she dragged her eyes up to meet his again, only to find that he seemed to have leaned in even closer. Her whole body felt on edge from the intensity of her vulnerability. His warm breath fanned over her cheeks as he demanded ‘Where. Are. We.’

She lifted her chin, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears, ‘We're in the faculty of fine arts library. Now, would you mind stepping away from me please?’

The air shifted and he went preternaturally still as he tracked her movements with wide eyes. Shock and confusion flashed across his features, so quick she could scarcely believe she saw it as his expression moulded back into something that resembled cool indifference once more.

‘Forgive me’ he murmured, bowing his head slightly. But his eyes remained locked on hers as he took a careful step back. ‘I seem to have ah… lost my place.’

‘Right…’ Deeming that he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, she shifted uncomfortably on each foot. Her eyes slid to the long double-edged sword, where the gleaming yellow light leaked from its tip right up to its dark hilt. Noticing her stare, he sheathed it smoothly on his back behind him.

She fiddled with her necklace nervously, running the amulet between her thumb and forefinger. ‘Are you a theatre student?’ She asked abruptly.

‘No, I’m not a theatre student.’ Was all he said, but his eyes narrowed.

She looked around at the shelves, and the discarded books on the floor again. Not really knowing what else to say, she said  ‘We should really tidy this stuff up before the librarian comes up.’

Not waiting for an answer, Feyre stepped around him and began picking up books. Some seemed to be close to falling out of their bindings, errant pages coming loose. ‘How on earth did you manage this?’ she asked.

‘I fell’ he said, looking up from the books he was beginning to stack in a neat pile. ‘What is earth?’ Only curiosity laced the question.

‘What –‘ she started to say,  but as she did the heavy book in her hands started to glow, light shining outwards from the spine. The air was thick with the combined aromas of book-like mustiness and something metallic, a tang of mineral bitterness that seared her nose.  A low rumble shook the air, echoing off the walls and sending more books tumbling in its wake. She let go of the tome and stumbled back, only to find it shockingly still hovering in the air before her. Magic - that scent that effused the air and gave it a strange charged quality - it was magic making the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

‘What the– can you see this?’ Looking up at the stranger with wide eyes.

‘Yes, I – you need to tell me where we are -‘ he started, but then the pages froze in the air, mid turn. Like someone had gotten out a remote control and hit pause. Everything went still as the whole world around them paused in time, even the wind outside seemed to halt its course through the trees for a moment as the heavy tome dropped to the floor with a resounding thud. That strange glow dissipated until only the waning December sunlight at dusk shone from the window of the dimly lit, dark wood library once more.

Feyre sucked in a breath, her heart pounding. The late nights working, studying, and never getting enough sleep had finally caught up with her. She was actually seeing things, and having hallucinations. The sense of panic that rolled through her then was staggering, but the tome, old and heavy, leather-bound and covered with dark inscriptions was still not a mere half a metre before her. Like the mysterious stranger who studied her now with narrowed eyes.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to take a slow breath, steadying herself against the bookshelf behind her. This couldn’t be real, he couldn’t be real, she thought. Obviously, he was nothing more than a hallucination, a very vivid one at that, but not real nonetheless. It was frightening that she had lost her grasp on her senses so fully, but she could only stand there, frozen, as panic rushed through her veins like acid.

Her attempts to breathe and calm herself were failing, and she felt a familiar anxiety rising up within her chest, her lungs stuttering in small, rapid inhalations. ‘Darling’ said a low, even voice from above her, and suddenly she felt a firm but barely there pressure applied to her shoulder. The stranger’s hand, warm and broad, gripped her shoulder, his thumb rubbing up and down gently.

‘Take slow, deep breaths’ he said softly. ‘Can you hear me?’

She took a breath, and then another.

‘Yes.’ Unfortunately, she didn’t add. She didn’t want to admit that everything she had just seen and heard from him right now was most probably a sure sign of insanity. Wringing her hands at increasing speed, ‘I’m fine – well, no, I’m not. But I will be. I’m just stressed out, another overworked grad student, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack and now I’ve started seeing things – no, conversing with figments of my imagination, and –‘

‘You’re not seeing things.’ The stranger interrupted, ‘Well, you are, but not figments of your imagination. I’m really here and you are really talking to me’. He paused. ‘Why don’t you tell me your name?’

She peeked open her eyes. He stood directly in front of her, absurdly intimidating with his dark eyes, staring down at her from his height – which now that he was so close it must be well over the six foot something she originally thought. And his hand, large and pleasantly warm, was still wrapped around her shoulder. She let her hands fall to her sides and sighed resignedly.

‘It’s Feyre’

‘Fey-ruh’ he repeated, drawing out her name in that low voice of his like he was sounding it out.

She eyed him warily, ‘Yes, Feyre. And what’s yours then?’

‘Rhysand’ he said shortly, with a scowl. A strange, odd name. A name that didn't sound of this time or place.

‘What is happening to me?’ She asked breathlessly.

‘Concentrate, Feyre. Take another breath.  What you saw just now – with the book –‘

‘Glowing and flipping through the air, you mean?’

‘Yes that –‘

‘Wasn’t real, right? and neither is this conversation, so now I’m going to walk back to my desk, pack away my stuff, go home and pretend this never happened.’

He stared at her for a moment, then dropped his arm and nodded. ‘If you want to forget it, fine. But at least tell me how to activate the portal in this-’  he looked around darkly ‘library… before you go. I would like to get back to my world before dinner if possible.’

He lifted one eyebrow, staring expectantly. For a minute she just blinks up at him, confused.

‘Look, whatever is going on here I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I really have to go now.’ Taking a deep breath, she turns around hurriedly and starts down the corridor. Only to come face to face with none other than the austere senior librarian, Ms. Argyll. Feyre was almost certain the stern older lady was capable of moving silently through the dark wood halls, appearing from between the shelves at the slightest noise. Never mind the wrath you might face if you fail to return a book on time or in less than perfect condition.

‘Miss Archeron, do I need to remind you that this floor is of silent study?’ She said in her icy Scottish burr, which altogether made her more frightening. Feyre froze. If Ms. Argyll stepped any closer, she was going to see the destroyed books hidden behind the stacks she now stood in front of.

‘Ah.. no. I mean, no, I know. Sorry, Ms. Argyll.’ Stepping forward nervously, Feyre angled her body hopefully to shield the fallen books behind her.

Ms. Argyll stared grimly down at Feyre from her red-framed glasses. ‘And who, may I ask, were you talking to?’

‘Well, I was just practicing –‘ Feyre started to say when she felt movement to her left.

‘That would be me, my lady, please let me apologise for any disturbance we might have inadvertently caused. Feyre here was graciously helping me locate a book,’ Rhysand said smoothly from her left.

Ms. Argyll narrowed her eyes ‘You know young man, that’s what the computers are here for’

‘I am not a young- computer?’ He looked at her with a mildly confused expression.

Feyre jumped in, ‘Please rest assured next time I will absolutely make sure to send him down to the front desk if he has any trouble finding something. We are really sorry about the disturbance, and we’ll be leaving now’ She turned to Rhysand expectantly.

‘Yes’ he confirmed, nodding at her.

‘The library closes in twenty minutes even so.’ Ms. Argyll seemed unconvinced but sniffed haughtily regardless. ‘See to it that you two return any books to their rightful places'. With a final severe glance of disapproval, she turned on her heel and stalked – indeed silently – down the hallway.

Feyre exhaled, before turning abruptly to face Rhysand. ‘She can see you’

‘Yes.’ He drawled, ‘and so can you.’ Again, with that raised eyebrow.

‘Ughh’ She rolled her eyes, ‘Are you going to tidy up those books?’

‘Already done, sweetheart’

‘That’s not possible, and don’t call me –‘ She stepped around him, but the books were indeed placed back in their spots on the shelves. Not one yellowed page to be found scattered on the floor.

She whirled back to him. ‘Alright, what is going on here? There had to have been at least fifty books, not to mention the mess caused–‘

‘You two, out. This instant!’ Came Ms. Argyll’s raised voice down the corridor.

She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to her desk where she started packing up her things hurriedly.  ‘This is unbelievable. She’s going to be on my back for weeks, and I needed that twenty minutes - I have at least five more books I need to reference.’ She whisper-shouted up at him.

Rhysand only looked back at her, his mouth quaking in faint bemusement as she hastily shoved her supplies back into her bag. He was leaning casually against the desk, as if a suddenly glowing book was an ordinary occurrence for him. To her disbelief, tucked under his arm, although no longer glowing, was the very book from before.

‘What on earth are you doing with that? You can't seriously be thinking about taking that out of the library?’

‘Darling, I can and I will.’ He crooned. ‘and again if you’d care to enlighten me. What is this earth?’ He cocked his head to the side as he studied her, and she could have sworn there was true curiosity in his eyes.

Feyre’s chest was tight with anxiety merely considering the question like she’d found herself on the precipice of the unknown and had no choice but to leap. Her head was growing light, and entertaining the idea was pure nonsense. Instead, she shook her head and strode for the direction of the stairs, not caring if he was following or not.

She took the stairs two at a time, only stopping to exhale once she was out of the library and the great doors were sliding shut behind her. It had snowed while she had been inside. The courtyard outside was blanketed in it, and the visual relief alone from all the darkness and unease she felt inside the library was soothing. She squared her shoulders, slowly descending the outside steps.

‘Wait –‘ a deep voice said behind her. She whirled mid-stride, boots slipping on the slick steps. Losing her balance - her eyes closed, bracing for impact – but then suddenly there was a large, warm weight steadying her. A firm pressure on her upper back and waist, as Rhysand caught her.

Feyre opened her eyes and looked up with a wince.

‘Are you okay?’ He said it in a low, intimate tone. She swallowed thickly, but her answer caught in her throat, his face was so close and her heart was beating too fast. Although only concern was written over his features, an incredibly confusing blend of desire and irritation swirled in the pit of her stomach. Did she actually just fall for a guy? And a ridiculous one at that. Can this day get any worse? Rhysand lifted her to her feet but kept his hands on her waist.

‘You alright, lass?’ the gruff voice of the campus security guard, as he trudged over. ‘Is this man bothering you?’ twitching his head towards Rhysand as he dropped his hands and stepped back.

‘Um no, everything’s fine. I just tripped that’s all.’ She looked between them.

The security guard surveyed them with narrowed eyes, his eyes halting over Rhysand’s clothes, before glancing back up at her. ‘Very well. You two best be off then. Channel four is saying there’s a storm on the radar tonight you know.’

Feyre looked up at the grey sky then and noticed the cooling temperature. Grimacing, she said, ‘Alright, have a good evening then,’

The security guard merely shrugged, making an indecipherable noise in reply, and ambled off.

She stared blankly into the distance as he made his way through the snow, her breath clouding in front of her.

‘Feyre’

‘Yes?’ She turned to face Rhysand. His brow was furrowed again, glaring fiercely off at the security guard, before fixing on her once more. He started opening his mouth, but then closed it again.

‘Thanks for catching me’ she said softly.

‘Of course,’ inclining his head slightly, ‘Forgive me, darling, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He purred, and his eyes seemed to darken imperceptibly. Great, she was staring again.

‘That’s alright. I um, really should be going now though…’ She looked towards the snowy courtyard and streets that lay beyond the campus buildings.

He was frowning at her ‘Where will you go?’

‘Home. To my flat’ She turned to go, she really didn’t feel like explaining her actions to this strange man who looked like he’d walked out of a bizarre period drama.

‘What is a flat - never mind. You will go without anyone to accompany you on your travels?’

Throwing her hands in despair, Feyre turned back and faced him.  ‘Yes of course I will. Do you need something?’

‘You act uncommonly strangely for a female of your age’

Feyre grit her teeth and raised a brow. ‘A female my age?’ He couldn’t be serious, she seethed. ‘What, pray tell, do you mean by that?’

Rhysand merely gestured to her, his face expressionless like what he was pointing out was the most obvious thing in the world.

They stared at each other for a moment in stilted silence.

‘Your behaviour, your odd manner of dress. You are a human woman are you not?’

She stared at him perplexed. ‘What's wrong with what I’m wearing?’ She looked down at her cream-coloured blouse, dark denim jeans, heeled boots, and coat. She looked good, better than good even. Considering most days, she couldn’t be bothered to change out of her grad student uniform of a fluffy sweater and black yoga pants. As if he could talk with that ruffled neckline. She rolled her eyes skyward, this man was infuriating.

She blew out an aggravated breath. ‘Look Rhysand – if that is even your real name – I don’t care if this is a new method of acting practice, or some kind of sick joke, or whatever. I really don’t have time for this and I want no part in it. Alright? Goodbye, and I wish you all the best for your performance.’ With that, she turned sharply and walked towards the lane leading out of the campus grounds.

#feyreandrhysand #feyre aesthetic #feyre acotar #rhys x feyre #rhys acotar #rhysand #dark rhys #nessian #elriel #azriel #qwynriel #acotar fanfiction #time travel #dimension travel #edinburgh #dub non con #slow burn #enemies to lovers #nesta archeron #feyre archeron

[getodrools]

warnings. yan! true form sukuna, implied non/dub con: ( forced marriage and pregnancy ), kidnapping.

All of them looked at you.

You recognized those faces. And you tried to hide from them behind the mighty stature built of an abundance of muscles and cursed energy…

But, all of those familiar faces contorted differently, some not knowing how to react; some gaped wide as others felt pity when you were shoved in front of the king by those large hands you grew to loathe.

That cruel and selfish thing held a wide wry smirk as your body — so frail, yet heavy with a large bump wobbled embarrassingly and tired ahead… You couldn't bear to lift your crown to confront them, too mortified. Yet, they couldn't see that attempt, you only looked too weak to try in their eyes…

You felt it in your heart, deep down they had a sense — they knew what was going to happen soon as he left with you.

As much as they forever wished for your safety and honored your valor of vengeance, carrying on your name as the savior when Sukuna swore he'd seize havoc if he got what he wanted — to marry you and earn an heir, he'd settle with leaving all merciful. Leaving behind the chaos he caused and settling far from their territory with the only promise of you.

You remember that very doomsday when he held you with two bloodstained arms — blood of your own comrades who fought with all their might… weak legs dangling in the smokey air as flames erupted from buildings and screams begrudged through the entire city, you remember scraping at the tough skin, seemingly unbreakable, but in hopes he'd release you, you tried unduly before you could end up with no head… But fighting with the last of your might, you swear to this day you could still feel that very cruel squeeze to your sides as he stalked the others with ease, cursing a promise out you had never expected to hear, truthfully.

Almost all warfare seized. They all looked just as disgusted as they do now, just how they were watching the way you shivered when Sukuna’s leather-like tongue lapped over your neck to the whole side of your face as he panted out those very words you toss and turn from every night,

“Take too long to give an answer, I’ll kill another. Or, I will set ablaze to everyone if you don't.”

There was no winning.

Leaving with you far beyond the horizon and years to come, the people you once called family and friends were never to be seen again.

Sukuna wasn't as surprised as they were once they found his concealed empire plagued with cursed energy. He didn't even care, he already got what he wanted and they couldn't do a single thing about it. They knew that very well too.

Especially seeing how you lived now.

They tried to prepare themselves though, knowing his ruthless acts were to be brought upon you once you agreed — you didn't need to, but for the sake of countless lives and for the ones you cherished, you sacrificed yourself, a single life, to him without thought, and now you harbor a dreadful wedlock and bear a child.

Yuji’s face was the worst. He felt disgust and outrage – you poor thing. He couldn't imagine what you've gone through, especially now as you carried a half-being inside of you. Something mixed with the King of curses genes brewing into something undoubtedly revolting, something he couldn't conjecture how you had to submit to such monstrosity to get this far…

Megumi steps back, “Y/n…” You flinch. You haven't heard your name in years, only the title of being Sukuna’s wife dug a deep scar into the tissue of your brain.

Even the other members flinch.

But now, they had their eyes on you for long enough and Sukuna grabs your shoulder to reer you behind him again, right where you belonged.

“Interesting seeing you all.” The king stood tall; a pair of strong arms crossed over his chest as the others waved around smugly.

They knew his strength and didn't want to erase all the disarray you've went through to save them once, so they stepped back, cursing themselves as they did. Crossing boundaries they never thought they'd see, Sukuna knew it would be idiotic for them to waste your life if they dared to overstep it.

They couldn't do that to you.

Waving them off, “She's expected soon,” Ryōmen smacks his lips, keeping his chin up high and all eyes low as if he wasn't already towering over them, “Once that's out, she’ll be busy on the next – as promised.” You shiver, huddling behind the only thing you grew to get used to — so to speak, forced to.

Clinging to his side, you barely peek through his arms to catch their faces once again, but oh, how much you've missed them… Too repentant, weary eyes only tremble at the floor they creaked on, and the further they got, the longing to run alongside them and to be free worsened…

You squeeze your belly.

Shoving your ridden face into his naked back as your husband continued threatening them with your life, you remind yourself this was worth saving them… even if…

… You still needed to give him five more.

PINNED ・ JJK MASTERLIST ・ RYŌMEN SUKUNA

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮! #ᝰ ryomen sukuna! #yandere sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk yandere #tw yandere #tw pregnancy #tw non con #tw forced marriage #tw dub con #tw kidnapping

[victoryverse]

gynaecologist!simon**

tw: dub-con

also: fingering. enjoy!!!!

words: 900

!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE HERE IS 18+. !!!!!!!!!

part 1

his eyes darken as soon as he sees your naked body, taking in a deep breath so that he can keep his composure

you cross your arms over your chest, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. your breasts are hiddedn from view, and he does not like that.

"why don't we get on the bench?" he instructs, and you mumble a quiet "okay, doctor" before turning and walking to the bench.

you climb up on it, looking up at him expectantly, and he comes to you, turning you around and pushing you down.

you sit back, and he pushed your shoulders. urging you to lie down. it was the same as it always had been, but when your mom was here too, you used to be more relaxed. and right now, you weren't.

he turned you so you were lying straight, and gently began to lift your legs up, and placed them on the stirrups.

your pussy was in front of him, with legs spread open. and his cock was fighting in his boxers, aching to be released.

"so--uh, can i begin?" he asked. his voice was becoming breathless, and he seemed sweaty.

"you're okay? dr. simon? you're sweating" you asked innocently, unaware that your pussy was the reason why.

"um...yeah, uh-i'm okay, just-wanted you to relax. to be completely open to me"

you nodded, and he brought his hands to between your legs, gently massaging the area near your inner thighs.

you felt your heartbeat rise, but you figured it was just because of the way he was touching you. it was intimate.

"y/n, i need you to be as relaxed as possible, okay? and right now, you don't seem relaxed. would you mind if i try something?"

you nodded, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted, to help you relax.

"good girl. now don't move, okay?"

you nodded.

his fingers came to your pelvis, spreading your wet lips apart and finding your clit. it was just a tiny bundle of nerves, wet and pearly. he choked on a moan, covering it with a cough.

your breathing was now faster, the way he was touching you, igniting something new in you.

he rubbed your arousal around, using his finger and spreading it all over your lips and clit, all the way to your shiny labia, yout tight opening, and experimentally pushing his finger in.

"ah!" you moaned, pushing your legs together, and off the stirrups.

"oh-uh. none of that" he pushed them back up, and your cheeks turned red and hot, nipples hard and erect.

“sorry–sorry, dr. simon”

“it’s okay. for now.”

you nodded, and his finger was back on you again. this time, he spread your lips apart, and began teasing your tiny entrance with his index finger.

you wanted to protest, not knowing what he was doing. but you had embarrassed yourself already, so you stayed silent.

he began rubbing your clit next, rolling it between his fingers. you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling, you were feeling so good.

he leaned in and spit thickly on your clit, making you flinch. but one hand on your stomach and you were relaxed again.

"good. stay put, pretty girl"

he spread his spit around, making it more of a mess, and, well, wetter.

once he was sure you were wet enough, he pushed a finger into your vagina, teasing the entrance a little, and his other hand played with your clit.

you let him, knowing the way your mind was floating in the sky with pleasure.

he pushed it to the knuckle, and your tight walls clenched around the digit. he chuckled, rubbing your clit a little faster, and your back began to arch. your nipples were hard, almost begging to be touched, and teased.

once you were loosened up again, he pushed another finger in, and began thrusting it in and out of your tight and wet cunt.

"oh--dr. simon, oh god!"

"yeah, feels good, doesn't it. let go, baby."

you had no idea what was happening. once, you were feeling like you would burst, when he increased his pace, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a rough and harsh pace. the next moment, he was rubbing your clit and you came all over his hand.

your breathing increased, and it started with a small spark, which then quickly spread throughout your body, igniting every nerve ending, and making them erupt with pleasure. it felt like a wave crashing over you, hitting you hard and making you feel euphoric like you were floating and out of your own body.

simon watched it all, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. you were a sight for sore eyes, and he couldn't wait to clean up all the cream that had oozed out from your pussy with his tongue, and take your pearly nipples into his sinful mouth.

. . .

tekll me if you like this and want more!!! sorry I have been sucking ass at posting lately, but I am at bed rest, and well......horny sorry for any typos.

you can tip me here if you like my writing. would really help me

tags: @ilovehobi101

#call of duty #cod #call of duty smut #cod smut #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #call of duty x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost #simon riley x y/n #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simon x reader #tw non con #tw dub con

[diejager]

It got deleted again 😂

Thoughts on dark childhood best friend!Johnny! Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, thigh fucking, somnophilia, tell me if I missed any.

He’s always been a bit touchy since you were kids, holding your hand, hugging you, kissing your cheek or even pressing himself against you whenever he could. It had always been innocent as kids, some kind of puppy-love that you were willing to give back, looking for him whenever you were out, eyes cued to look for the familiar blues that you came to love so much. You were neighbours, living right across from him in a quaint house, unbothered by many siblings that his mother kept popping out.

Your mother was sweet, letting him come by whenever he wanted to escape the hectic mess of his house, and you were the sweetest thing he’d ever known. You were so willing to act as his distraction, pulling him away from the chaos and into your safe haven : your room. It quickly became his room as much as it was yours, he spent so many nights sleeping in your room, sharing your bed with him, his arms wrapped around your hip and face nuzzled in your hair.

Once puberty rolled in, his voice deepening and facial hair growing, he started packing more weight and strength, his ego swelling with all the dopey eyes he received from girls his age and older, but they never strayed from you. He only had eyes for you, his best friend. They roved over your aging body, your breast swelling and hips becoming a dangerous temptation to him. He knew you looked at him as nothing but your best friend, the guy you grew up playing with and sharing happy moments, but he couldn’t stop the growing tent in his briefs when he jumped in bed with you at night.

He didn’t feel guilty about getting hard at the sight of you in shorts and an oversized t-shirt, it was natural, a reaction towards the opposite sex being so clearly comfortable with him. He became much more intimate with the placements of his hands, they would slip under your shirt, over the softness of your stomach and under your growing boobs. Despite your protest and sleepy grumble, he’d steal a touch of your pebbled nipples, round and hard before dipping down your waist and placing them a bit too high on your thighs to be considered platonic.

You complained but rarely retaliated because he reasoned with you that a lot of best friends were this touchy, grinding your ass when you were sleeping on your stomach, groping your softness while he panted and groaned, his cock leaking a wet patch on his pants. This was normal, he had rights to you that none other had because Johnny was your childhood best friend.

“One more, Bonnie,” he gasped, gazing at your lips, open and glistening with drool while you slept, unaware that he was rutting against your thigh, “A need one more, please.”

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader smut #soap x reader #dark cod #tw: dark content #dark content #tw dubcon #tw: dub con #tw: dubcon #dub con #dubious consent #cw: somno #tw somnophilia #tw: somnophilia #cw: non con #tw noncon #tw: non con #tw: noncon #non con #dead dove do not eat #soap smut #Cbf!johnny #john soap mctavish smut

[charliemwrites]

Part 9 of Charmed Slasher Simon

(CW: this is all basically noncon. Like, yeah they had a “deal” but it’s not like it was agreed on in good faith ya know? Stay safe while reading, please, and let me know if this warning needs to be more descriptive)

You shake as Simon trails his fingers absently along your tummy, amused by the way it twitches, tickling and frightened in equal measures. So much he wants to do to you, but only so much you’ll be able to take for this first little triste.

Besides, though not long for this world, there’s only so much he wants that little worm to see of you.

“You ever spend so long fantasizing about something that when the moment finally comes, you’re just spoiled for options?” he muses aloud, pinching your nipples through your thin shirt. He can hear the high pitched noises trapped in the back of your throat, tsks at the denial.

“I’m usually a decisive man, you know that, sunshine. But all the things I want to do to you…”

You squirm when he pinches a bit harder, adding a little twist. He shuffles his knee between your thighs and pulls you back, making you grind against his thigh with every involuntary twitch and shudder.

“Could bruise this pretty ass for running out into the snow like that, reckless thing.” You jolt when he palms the plush fat of one cheek. “Or I could just torture your tight little hole. Leave that pretty pussy aching…”

You make a noise like a sob as his thumb rubs through the layers of your pants and underwear. You try to lean away but he’s got such a tight grip on your wrists that all it does is arch your back.

He inches his fingers over the crest of your hip again, dips back to your swollen clit and soaked cunt. Hell, you’re even wetter than before, a sticky line running down your thigh, fabric clinging to overheated skin. He groans against your throat, has to see it for himself.

You try to protest as he yanks your waistbands down to mid thigh, but he quiets you with those same two fingers stuff in your mouth, teeth scraping his knuckles. You nearly gag as he pets the back of your tongue, imagines how it’ll feel against the fat head of his cock.

In the firelight, you’re gleaming, something out of a fever dream. He leans you back farther and forces your legs wider with his own, lets the heat caress at the insides of your thighs, the creamy slick webbing between your lips.

“Fuck, maybe I should just play with this, huh?” He rasps. “Watched you do it so many times. You don’t know how to edge yourself properly, luv. Always let yourself give in too soon.”

You make a startled noise, huge, watery eyes finding his. He chuckles at the mortified question in them, teases his fingertips over your slit.

“Yeah, sunshine. I watched you fuck this pretty pussy, cryin’ ‘n pleadin’ for me,” he purrs in your ear. “Took everythin’ in me to let you have your fun, to keep from showin’ you how it’s done…”

He circles a finger over your clit, a barely-there brush that makes your pretty wet lashes flutter. Over and over, watches that flush bloom steadily over your face, down your neck. The haze glossing over your eyes.

“How about that, hm? We’ll start from the beginning and work our way through my list.”

He slips his fingers from your mouth, watches you lick unconsciously at the taste of him lingering on your lips.

“Y-you’re not gonna…?”

He tilts his head, narrows his eyes. Fills in the blanks and can’t help growling.

“Oh, you want me to hurt you, is that it?” he asks. “You want - no, you need an excuse to hate me. You’re hoping I tear you up so that you have an easy out for all these confusing feelings.”

You try to babble out a denial but the shock in your eyes is all the confirmation he needs. He tamps down his anger by dragging his teeth along your neck, working a dark mark into the skin.

You don’t know any better, he reminds himself. But you will.

“Don’t you worry, luv, there will be plenty of punishment for you,” he rumbles. “But you’re going to beg me for it.”

You open your mouth, maybe to deny it, but he pinches your sensitive little clit between two fingers and revels in the way you squeal.

He instantly soothes the ache with gentle circles, trailing kisses along your jaw. Tastes fresh salt on your skin.

“Best save your tears, precious,” he warns, smirking. “You’ll need them.”

He parts your lips with two fingers, leaving you open and exposed, groaning through his teeth at the sight of you. Wet and swollen, so needy for him. You try to buck away when he rubs a finger over your clit, firm strokes up and down.

“If you don’t stay still and take it like a good girl, I’ll tie you down and make you be a good girl.”

You duck your chin, eyes squeezed miserably shut as you try to lock down your body. It’s ridiculously endearing, how you wiggle and then catch yourself, breath hitching as you wait for him to lose patience. He hums whenever you start getting to squirmy, delights in the way you shiver and sink your teeth into your lip. Settle down only for him to change the tempo or the pattern and ruin all your self control.

He amuses himself drawing patterns all over your pulsing clit - circles and stars. Hearts that make your eyes roll back in your head. Zig zags from your weeping hole up to the very top of your slit.

It takes a while for you to truly approach your orgasm with the way he denies you a proper rhythm to build on. But he notices the moment you finally start to reach that peak, not even his reminder to hold still can keep you from twitching and rocking, helpless little jolts of your hips.

He coos. “So desperate to finish. Is it because you think I’ll be done with you once you do?”

You don’t answer, too busy trying to get more friction, more pressure. He lets you rush right up to the edge and then stops, skipping down to circle your hole. Luxuriates in the fresh flood of wetness coating your thighs. It yanks you back like a dog on a leash, your orgasm right there but just out of reach.

You don’t even seem to realize what’s happened for a second, mouth hanging open and a cute little furrow between your brow. When he chuckles, teasing up to that sensitive bundle of nerves again, it seems to click. You shoot him a dismayed look, the most precious hint of betrayal lurking in your glassy irises.

“N-no…” you nearly beg.

He smirks, nips at your puffy bottom lip. “You can say no if you like. Or even stop. We had a deal, though, didn’t we?”

“R-Riley…”

You scream when he spanks your pussy. Not nearly as hard as he craves, but it sends pretty streamers of tears down your hot cheeks. Another, two fingers directly to your clit. You nearly crumple, only his hold on your wrists keeping you upright.

“My real name, sunshine, or I’ll give you a reason to say no,” he warns.

“S-Simon,” you whimper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He shushes you, petting apologetically at your throbbing core.

“I know, luv, I know. But you’ll never learn if I don’t teach you right.”

The tears don’t stop as he drags you right up to the edge again, bullying through the lingering sting of getting spanked with overwhelming pleasure. When he pulls back a second time, you start up the “no’s” again, voice shattered into pathetic little pieces.

“That’s alright,” he murmurs, “say whatever you need to get you through, I won’t be mad.”

He gets you so so close once again, cock twitching against your ass as it grinds back against him. But he lightens his touch, not stopping but not letting you fall, easing the pressure up and up and up until even the slightest graze would break you.

Instead, he pulls away entirely to squeeze at the plush of your thighs and hips, cooing over the way they shake for him.

“Simon,” you sob, tucking into his chest. He slows his touches, watching you try to curl into him, chest burning with something bloodier than love. “Simon, please. It hurts.”

He hums, sliding his hand back up to your pussy, massaging your labia. Careful not to touch your needy clit.

“It hurts, hm?” he croons, unable to keep the mean pleasure from his voice. “It wasn’t supposed to. Where does it hurt?”

You hiccup, sniffle. “M-my… my…”

“Tell me, sunshine, or I can’t make it better.”

You fold a bit, bounce, almost like a tantrum. So out of control on sensation and emotion that you can’t keep it together as you form the words.

“M-my pussy. It — I need…”

He hums again, fingers trailing down to your hole. Teases his finger at your entrance and feels it spasming around nothing.

“So empty,” he breathes. “Is that it, luv? Your little cunt is aching to be filled?”

You shudder on a cry but nod, face hidden against his neck. He lets you, far too endeared by your attempts to find comfort from the man torturing you in the first place.

“Hurts,” you repeat.

“Do you hate me yet?” he mocks.

You keen softly. “Y-yes.”

A tap to your clit again. If you weren’t so strung out you’d probably even find it pleasurable but right now it makes you writhe and beg him to stop.

“Dont lie,” he warns, voice low, “where are my good girl’s manners?”

“‘M sorry,” you whine.

“One more time now - do you hate me yet?”

Your words seem to get caught up in your throat so you shake your head. Hes tempted - so, so tempted - to make you admit it aloud. But he doesn’t want to be too mean, not yet.

“Good girl,” he whispers, “that’s my girl. You want me to make you feel better now?”

You sniffle again, lean back into him a bit more. “Please.”

“There we go,” he praises, “nice and polite. I’ll take care of you, luv.”

Your body is so ready that it’s nothing for him to slide a finger into you, slick already running down his palm.

“N-no no,” you mumble.

“No what? I’m making you feel better.”

“‘S not — need more. Please, please, Simon.”

It’s hearing his real name in your small, reedy voice that finally appeals to what little mercy he has. He fits two fingers into your cunt and curves them to rub your silky walls.

“Fuck, you’re tight, sunshine,” he groans through his teeth. “You’re gonna choke my cock.”

You squeal as he starts rocking his hand, fucking you at an easy pace, getting you accustomed to the new stimulation. Starts building up your orgasm again, piece by moaning piece, finding every spot that makes your back bow with pleasure.

“Please, please, lemme cum this time Simon, I’ll be good, I promise.”

He huffs in amusement, caressing his thumb over your crossed wrists.

“Oh baby, you don’t have a choice.”

He flattens his palm against your core and pumps his fingers faster, harder. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit with each twitch of his wrist. You get tighter and tighter, voice pitching up and up, until your entire body goes taut, walls clamping down almost painfully.

He strokes you through it, brutal and relentless until you’re screaming at him to stop. That it’s too much. He releases your wrists to wrap his hand around your throat, obsessed with how delicate it feels in his palm. Just the slightest squeeze of his fingers and your eyes roll back. The second orgasm gushes from your abused cunt, all over his wrist and your thighs, dripping puddles onto the carpet.

He loosens his hold slowly, work you over through it, feeling you squeeze and pulse with aftershocks.

When he glances at your pretty, flushed, and tear-stained face, your eyes are shut. Out cold.

He chuckles and gently lays you out closer to the fire, grabs a pillow from a nearby chair to set under your head. Lingers for a moment, rubbing over your back, massaging gently at your shoulders. Your wrists are already bruising.

Then a muffled noise calls his attention.

Brandon.

“Now the second half of the deal.”

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #charmed slasher ghost #final girl reader #non con #dub con

[konigsblog]

stepbro!könig and stepbro!krueger thots ... ☆‧₊˚.

tw: stepcest, non-con/dub-con (peer pressure, blackmail), degrading.

— stepbrother!könig is teasing and degrading. he loves to make you feel like you're worth nothing, especially if it's because you haven't pleased him with a nice, sloppy, and sticky blowjob. :3

stepbrother!krueger on the other hand, is addicted to seeing you cry. he's so mean, brutal with his pace when he demands you to bend over and present that pretty, and tight cunt to him! both him and könig love to gang up against you, so they can blackmail you with skimpy, scandalous photos of you -- threatening to leak it if you didn't please them like they asked.

instead of arguing or retorting back at them, you meekly turned around, getting smacked in the rear causing you to jolt and squeak, listening to the sounds of könig tutting with impatience clear in his voice.

“haven't got all day, mäuschen...” you slide your panties off, spitting a fat glob of saliva on your hand and rubbing your clit in circles so you're wet and dripping! sloppy, and sopping wet. just like a good stepsister should be...

“now be a smart girl and arch that back for us.”

krueger's accent is prominent in the air, pushing up against you, both hands on your hips. he sloppy humps you, wet and sticky, cum sticking to your thighs and covering your folds. he's only inside for a few minutes before he's cumming all over your slit, coating you in thick strings of cum.

they both take turns of you. könig's hard dick easing into your asshole without preparation, causing you to grip anything around you tightly, panting and whimpering through the ache. his thrusts are harsh and rough, making sure to fuck some sense into his dumb stepsister who always falls for their threats...

— at dinner, they're both pieces of shit. not only to eachother, but you especially. you're just a little ragdoll to take their anger out on. whether that's by eating you out underneath the table while you speak to your mother and stepfather, holding back moans and gasps when krueger drags his tongue over your sensitive clit. just like the cheeky bastard he is...

stepbrother!könig is always riled up. even when you're a few metres away from your mother who was preparing dinner in the kitchen, he'll hide behind a wall close to the kitchen, pinning you against the same wall, rutting into you while covering your mouth with a large, calloused hand. your muffled whines and mewls fall onto death's ears as he fits himself whole inside you, his balls smacking against your ass repetitively.

and your mother always asks why you both stink of sweat, and all you can do is shrug your shoulders shyly.

könig won't hesitate to grab your hand, bring it over to his lap and take out his cock, having you jerk him off underneath the blanket while you're all watching a movie. all it does is leave krueger pissed off, jealous, and horny... you owe him a handjob too, now. :3

translation: mäuschen - little mouse

banner credit: saradika

#orla speaks #tw stepcest #stepcest cw #tw: stepcest #stepcest #dub con #tw: dubcon #tw: non con #tw noncon #non con #tw: noncon #könig #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #sebastian krueger #krueger x reader #cod krueger #krueger #sebastian krueger x reader #krueger cod #konig x reader smut #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #cod mw2

[rennorthernlights]

Breaking You In

Ghost X Reader/OC——————————————————————————————

Brief Summary: Hiding your identity as an Omega is nothing new but hiding it in an Elite Taskforce is harder than you thought.

Your callsign is Mustang due to your stubbornness and the “Fuck You” attitude that you tend to embody. You take your heat-blocking pills religiously until they don’t come in anymore.

Just what you need… The beginning of Pre-heat is starting to show and your losing your mind with how annoying the Lieutenant is being.

(There’s no description of what Mustang looks like. I just wanted to name her that.)

——————————————————————————————

MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Non-Con to Dub-Con, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Aggressive Behavior, Aggressive Sex, Spanking, Dom/Sub, Forced Submission, Overstimulation, Ghost Ain’t A Good Guy In This But He’s Hot, Forced Bonding, Forced Mating, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-Clothed Sex, Breeding Kink, Ghost Tryna Be A Dad And Daddy, Choking, Hands On Throat, Tell Me If I Missed Any

MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY

——————————————————————————————

The world has a love for Alphas in the military, they’re stronger and aggressive, good for the firefights and the bullets. Dominant and steelier compared to the Betas. Many of the Alphas tend to hold the higher positions in the military just due to their second nature alone. Leading most of the military fields save for the Betas that manage to keep up with them. Even the elite Taskforces are no different due to them being chalk full of Alphas and a handful of Betas. Only the best of the best is needed after all.

Omegas on the other hand… now that’s a different story. Most Omegas that choose to work have more of the “Less-Stressful” jobs. At least that’s what the unspoken rule is supposed to be. Some old-fashioned Alphas and even Betas would say that a good Omega is an Omega with their legs spread for a knot and filled with pups. Made to only raise the young and be good for their better mates. Depending on who you talk to it’s practically looked down upon if an Omega has a job.

Docile. Sweet. Easy.

That is what the world expects of Omegas. At least that’s what THEIR world expects. When you first presented as an Omega at the young age at 12 years old you refused to stay seated. Not surprising since your moms an Alpha and your dads a Beta, if anything they were more surprised that their daughter turned out to be an Omega.

“Just keep your head down.” Is what your mother would say to you over and over again. Snapping at you when you started doing things an Alpha or Beta would do. Their own views on how to train up an Omega became demeaning and suffocating. Even going so far that when you turned 18 years old your mother set you up with an old Alpha suitor.

With no foreseeable way out and your future hanging by tiny threads you did the only thing you could think of. Something drastic and life changing that could take you far away from your parents and that would-be suitor.

You signed up for the military.

18 years old and you dived headfirst into it. Inhaling nearly every heat-blocking pill on the market to hide what you are. Going against the rules and forging your documents. It’s amazing that you haven’t been caught but as long as you keep taking the pills there’s not much to worry about. Besides your CO’s would’ve blamed you if you caused the alphas to go into a rut if you chose to keep your heats. So what if you have to take some experimental pills? It keeps you safe and keeps you far away from your parents and the old Alpha your parents wanted you to mate.

Now, that was 5 years ago. 5 years of putting blood, sweat and tears into your military career. 23 years old and you gained the nickname “Mustang” for being far too stubborn and forward for your own good. Having an argumentative streak with your CO’s and calling them out for shitty plays on the battlefield. It’s no wonder that when the Captain of the 141 read over your file that he immediately requested for you to join. Seeing the potential in you and fire in your eyes reminded him of his Beta, Gaz.

At first you thought it was a joke, a jest that he’d want someone with only 5 years of experience, at least until you realized that he was dead serious in his inquiry. The Alpha Captain became deadset on taking you under his wing to help mold you into something better.

Upon meeting the team, you got along like dry leaves in a fire when you met Gaz, a kind and ever-patient Beta Sergeant. Nearly had your minds meld together when meeting Soap, the demolition Sergeant, and in time he told you with complete trust that he’s an Omega. The 141 treat him normally and as if he’s not just his nature was very eye opening to say the least, to see a fellow Omega be treated so well nearly made you come clean. But you digress, you trust them with your life but not something like this.

You got along well, building up lifelong bonds all except for the Lieutenant… he’s as Soap likes to call him. “A spooky bastard.” Hard and tough around the edges, as prickly as a cactus and even more of a hardass when it comes to drills.

Though it’s to be expected especially from the way he’s always in a corner, brooding with hardly a tell of an emotion with that skull mask of his on. Doesn’t help that he’s always quick to spot your mistakes. Every single mistake. Quicker to growl a sneer when you butt heads. Though you hate to begrudgingly admit that you’ve learned more under his watchful eyes. Amber brown eyes that always seem to be on you the second you’re in sight.

Though it’s been like that for months; you’ve had an easy rhythm with the Sergeants and you fall right into step with the Alpha Captain but for some reason. You and the Lieutenant? It’s like the two of you can’t see eye to eye. Doesn’t help that he’s been constantly hovering over you, being an unwanted guardian as he wards off the other Betas and Alphas. His scent always around you and sometimes on you much much to the increasingly teasing Sergeants. An almost knowing look in Soaps eyes when he smelled Ghost on you… again.

Your clothes somehow carry his scent like as if he’s rolling around in it. You swear that if it wasn’t for the pills you take you would’ve gone into heat a couple months ago. It’s annoying that the Lieutenant, the bane of your existence, gets his scent on you. Wards off the guys and ladies that you used to have one-night stands with. The soldiers fearing the wrath from a man who isn’t even your mate and you hate that he’s fucking with your ability to get laid these past couple months.

It reaches a boiling point when the Captain is put on a month-long bedrest, no longer able to play mediator between the two of you. Hell, even the Sergeants have a hard time breaking up the yelling matches you both have.

“Have some fucking respect.”

“Maybe try earning it.” You growl back, postering at him like an Alpha would. The other soldiers already leaving the breakroom to not have to deal with whatevers going on between the two of you.

The latest argument you’re having is over something useless that you can’t be bothered to remember. All you know is that he said something that’s pissing you off. Doesn’t help that the latest request for your heat-blocking pills haven’t been cleared just yet. You told Price in confidence a couple months back about what your second nature is, course you got an earful, but he swore he’d keep it to his grave. Normally he’s is quick to have them sent in but since he’s been on bedrest the paperwork has just been sitting in his office desk drawer collecting dust. You’ve already been off it for a week, swallowing your immense pride, you had sent in the request to a higher up that Price trusts but for some reason they never come in.

Your body is going through the drawbacks. That scent of yours has been jumping from sour to sweet throughout the days making your hormones shoot up dangerously. Hindbrain starting to encourage your pre-heat to flush out the remaining toxins of the pills. Any other team and you’d be scared but due to how well Soap is treated, you’re not too worried. So far no one has called you an Omega or even tried to imply what you are, and you would prefer to keep it like that.

The Lieutenant scoffs at your audacity pulling you from your thoughts as you shake your head of them. “I think I’ve earned plenty of your respect since I’ve saved your hide more times than I can count,” dark amber eyes narrowed as he stares down at you. “Omega.” Smelling out your second nature and it makes you freeze up. Your hands balling into tight fists as you fight the instinct of running away. A whisper in your ear that you should just stop antagonizing him but no. No, you press on.

Standing up straighter and if your glare could deepen any more then it would. “Don’t call me that, Ghost.” Distain towards him as your scent spikes up in a sweetening anger. Pre-heat befuddling your mind as you nearly bared your throat when he called you by your nature.

“What should I call you then, Mustang?” Taking a large whiff of the room. His eyes darkening, “You smell like an Omega.” Taking a step forward and you feel more acutely aware of how it’s really just you and him in the breakroom. “Smell just like one in pre-heat too.”

He lunges forward. “Hey! What are you—?!” An alarm goes off in your head to get away as he moves far too quickly for you to scramble and evade him, large hands grabbing and shoving you against the wall. “Let go!” You yell and throw your fist forward that he easily catches. Gripping hard and snatching your other hand to force them over your head. His thigh sliding hard between your legs as you breath in sharply. “You fucking basta-“ thick fingers shove into your mouth, you gag and cough at the sudden intrusion. Eyes watering in response and you see the blatant amusement in his eyes. Anger riling up so you bite down on the fingers forcing him to yank them out.

Guess he didn’t like that as grabs your neck with the same bitten fingers. “Feisty little Omega.” Squeezing your throat causing you to gasp as his grip hardens until you start to see spots. “No wonder you’ve been acting the way you’ve been. Heat coming up now that you ain’t downing those pills. Just need an Alpha to put you in your place, yeah?” The muscles in his thigh tense as grinds it against your core. Releasing just enough pressure from your neck that makes you gasp and gulp for air. If your brain worked faster you would’ve caught on to the fact that he knows you take pills.

“F-Fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” brown eyes rolling, “Always such a mouth on you.” Moving his hand down your throat, ghosting over the mounds of your breast till he cups one through your shirt and squeezes. “Maybe a knot will make you easier to work with. Make you nice and pliant. When’s the last time you’ve been fucked anyways?” A grin under his mask as he knows exactly how long it’s been for you.

Your heart beating wildly as your teeth nearly stab into your lip to bite back a moan. His thumb pressing on the nub of your nipple through your bra and shirt. “No smart mouth, no snippy remark? Guess I finally shut you up.” Smirking under his mask as he spots the table in the breakroom before looking back at you like as if he’s been given the most amazing idea. His hand moving to the back of your neck and forcing you to move.

Jerking around and fighting uselessly as he bends you over the table stomach down. Hiking your ass up to present even as you try an squirm away. Almost successful in your attempt until a hard smack resounds in the room. Eyes bulging wide as he pulls his hand back and does it again. “Ah!” Screaming out as he smacks your ass with purpose. His hand on the base of your neck keeping you face down as you squeal and pant.

A meek, defiant growl from you as he responds with another harsh smack. “Behave, Mustang. Be glad I’m not making you count them.” Tears pricking your eyes as they shut tight, having mentally lost count of it ten slaps ago.

Tears falling down your face wetting the table as you half expect another smack and yet he cups your burning ass, your pants have done nothing to shelter your cheeks as you felt every sting of the assault. “There we go.” Gasping quietly when his large fingers grasp and fondle to soothe the ache, “Already bein sweet for me.” Taking a lungful of your enticingly sweet smell, “Can smell your slick,” he states downright devilishly as you tense. Your ass stiffening while your thighs shift tightly together, your body betraying you as you hate how right he is.

Tutting disapprovingly and reaching his hand around and dipping inside your pants right when you start to protest weakly. Sliding a gloved finger harshly against your soaked panties. “Soakin my glove.” Cupping your soaked cunt as it seeps into his glove. “Naughty, naughty Omega.” Purring against your ear making you wail louder. You’d try to escape if he wasn’t pressing his whole weight down on you. Kicking your feet apart with his boot and thrusting forward, canting his strong hips against the flush of your clothed ass. Something impossibly hard pressing and rubbing against your bottom that makes your eyes roll back as his fingers graze harder on your panties in time with his thrust.

“S-Shit.. ah s-stop! Please,” you beg as it’s too much, you haven’t been sexual with anyone in a while. Especially with your hormones out of whack, his scent smells stronger, dominating and thickening in the room. Invading your nostrils, intoxicating and encouraging more wetness out of your disloyal cunt. The sensitive walls clench when he presses a finger inside, your hole clenching around the cotton, the fabric of your panties rubs against your throbbing clit. You can’t stop the moans that fall from your lips even if you wanted to.

A coil starting to curl within you. “No, no, no, ah!” Your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues humping more aggressively. Grinding and circling his hips against yours, the table creaking under you as his strong body keeps you under him. Trapped and forced to just take it as the pleasure he’s giving you is mixing up the signals in your brain.

You don’t even realize his hand on your neck has left in favor of shucking his mask up, latching his hot mouth against the glands on your neck. Teeth grazing on the sensitive gland as the heat of his mouth sends shocks through your body. “This what you needed, pretty girl?” Whining in response when he removes his hand from inside your pants. His glove soaked with your juices. “S’why you’ve been such a brat. Had to keep pushin and pushin me till I had to do somethin about your problem.”

“N-no I-“ breath hitching as he bites on your throat, sucking harshly as you can’t find the words to speak coherently. Small mercy that he didn’t bite down too hard on the mating gland, merely sucking bruises on it. A grin etching into the skin of your sensitive throat. His tongue lapping and circling as he feels you shake and mewl under him. Having a harder time to not give into your baser needs. Body betraying you as you buck back in time with his canting hips as your hands move and fist near your face.

Finally letting up as he leans back, you breathe so hard as you look behind you through half-lidded eyes. Sweat beading around your forehead causing your hair to stick to your skin. His hands working fast to unbuckle his belt and pants. Pulling them down past his thighs and his boxers following suit. Eyes widening as you see his large thick cock already leaking pre. The flare of his knot making him seem much thicker. Cock slapping against his stomach and you know that a knot like his won’t fit. Blood pumping faster as you fear you can’t take that size in you.

Watchful molten eyes noticing how you try to shift away from him. A thick hand landing forcibly on your back to keep you still as he works on undoing your pants. Pulling them down as you stutter and beg for him not to. “No, no, no, darling. Gotta give you my knot.” Panties falling down, the ever increasing shame burns on your face as your slick slides down. “See? You want it. Need it from the looks of it.” Arms shaking and you try to hit behind you as he just laughs cruelly. Grabbing both of the flailing arms and pinning them against your back with one hand.

Your thighs instinctively try to close but he’s having none of it. Forcing your legs apart with another kick of his boot. A firm grip on your hip before sliding it under a bit to make you lift your reddened ass up. Slotting the meat of his cock through your glistening, fluttering folds. Sliding in between over and over, slowly teasing your engorged clit with the head of his thick tip.

“So fuckin wet for me. Haven’t even fucked you yet and you're pouring on my cock.” Moaning embarrassing louder as he inches the tip into your tightening hole.

A forceful push, heading deeper inside as you plead for him to pull out, to stop what he’s doing but he doesn’t hear you. Too lost in the feeling of your warm, tight cunt squeezing so nicely around him. Even with the gush of your wetness easing a bit of the stretch, it still burns. Ghost is by far the thickest you’ve ever taken. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried all the way to the hilt. “Fuck!” He murmurs lowly while his eyes shut just as yours do from the feeling of being so full.

Pussy gripping him hard, “Relax for me.” Grunting hard as he circles his hips. The hand under your hip lifts you a bit more as your mouth parts to suck in air. “You can take it. That’s a good girl.”

Hardly giving you the time to adjust as he pulls back, his tip not escaping your heat before slamming back in. Whimpering due to the electrifying shot of pain and pleasure, “P-Please, it.. it ah hurts!” Ghost murmurs something rough as tears begin to prick your eyes. His hand moves from your hip and instead of stopping his thrusts, he circles a finger around your wanting clit. Your eyes opening wide as more slick starts coming out more. Easing his large cock in you as your body starts to take him better.

“That’s it, that’s a good little slut,” slamming his hips fast as his fingers work a slow torturous pace on your bundle of nerves. “Doin so good for me Omega. Clench ‘round me baby.” Heavy balls slapping with each harsh thrust. His mouth latching against your glands, muddling your brain further as your Omega nature preens in response of being taken by this strong alpha. “Knew you’d be perfect for me. Just had to stop the pills from coming in.” His damning words not heard as he keeps up his brutal pleasuring pace. The smell of the heady sex permeate the breakroom, filthy sounds of wet slaps of thigh against thigh only enthralls your Omega nature more.

Becoming pliant as you moan and keen high in pleasure, mouth hanging open as the tip of his cock bullies into your tight cunt, making a home inside your gummy walls. His grunts and dirty words sinning against your ear as he growls about how you’re his now. That you’ll never escape him. A possessiveness scent seeping into the room as you babble useless words. His fingers, nearly forgotten due to the mind-numbing pace of his burrowing cock, start to move faster and press harder against your clit. Sliding his finger side to side just as fast as the hard smack of his balls intensifies the pleasure tenfold. “Cum for me, Omega. Wanna— agh,” grunting deeply behind you, “Wanna feel it.”

Your traitorous body gives in when he angles his hips and slams against that spot that makes you scream. Stars blurring your vision as you cum, squeezing and milking his cock as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. The tightening walls suck him back into your greedy pussy. “Gonna breed you good.” A heavy-laden promise as his eyes darkens with dangerous lust. His upper body hunching over as he presses his forehead against the side of yours as you plead for more. His hand moving from your pinned arms, placing his elbow beside your head to give himself more leverage as pistons his hips faster.

Hammering into your pussy as the wood of the table screams from the exertion and scraps against the floor. Your words bouncing against the walls, “Pl-Please, please, please!” Begging for it now. Begging for more, for his cum and his knot. Too lost in the pleasure to really understand what you’re saying. “Alpha, Alpha please!” Crying out as it’s too much and yet not enough. Overwhelming animal instinct to be bred by your strong Alpha. Arching your hips in time to feel him growl loudly, the vibrations tingling up and down your spine.

“I’m going to, Omega, I’m going to.” pulling back suddenly before slamming back into you full force with his damning vow. “I’m gonna breed you till you can’t take it.”

Pulling back out and forcibly turning you around, back now on the hard surface of the table. He looks downright predatory as he licks his lips. Yanking the rest of your pants and panties off, ripping them off even with you wearing your boots in wanton abandon, discarding them out of sight and out of mind.

His hands grabbing your ankles and placing them over his shoulders. Your boots scraping the skin of his flesh be he could give less of a fuck right now. Maneuvering your knees against your chest to fuck you deeper, feeling deliciously constricted since his body is blocking out everything from your sight. Everything but him.

“Gonna give you my knot. Make you mine in every way.” The newer position makes him feel even larger inside you. Pounding into you as your moans sound heavenly to his ears. Pressing more of his weight into you, caging you in as if his only thought is to fuck into your fertile womb. An animalistic need in his eyes as he gives into his own nature to claim the Omega under him. “You want it? Want my knot? Beg for it.”

“Want it! Want it s-so bad! Please, Alpha!” Wasting no time as you work hard to form the words. Jumbling and spilling over it but you don’t stop in your mindless pleading. Your pleading flipping a switch in him as he no longer cares about the consequences. He’ll deal with them later because right now all he wants to do is fill your pretty pussy till it overflows.

Surging forward, his teeth bites down harshly against your mating gland. Mine. Mine. Mine! Eyes rolling back to your skull as you cum faster and harder. The build up of the dam inside the both of you breaking as the swell of his knot starts to catch. Teeth digging into your neck as he intends to make the binding claim as deep as he can. Tears springing out your eyes as your legs shake in the tidal wave of pain and pleasure.

“Mine.” Growling aggressively in affirmation as he moves away from your throat and kisses you roughly, “Mine.” Mouthing the word against your swelling lips that can’t keep up with him. His hips stuttering as his muscles clench, the need for him to cum approaching faster. Balls tightening up as he forces home his thick knot inside your sensitive walls. “Mine!” His forehead falls against yours as he roars out that soul-claiming word. Hot spurts of cum filling your greedy and welcoming womb. His knot expanding wide and locking you to him for now.

“G-Gho— mph!“ his lips dominating against yours, shutting you up as he grinds his knot while his balls empties the rest of his thick seed in you. Moans being swallowed by the other in response. Tongues wrestlings as he takes hold of your boot and eases it off his shoulder. The other following suit as he wraps them loosely around his waist. Your mewls being swallowed by the hungry kiss that he gives you, possessive and devouring as he doesn’t let up. Moving his mouth down, trailing kisses and nips gently against your chin and then to your throat where the mating mark is on your neck. His permanent mark on you.

Chest against chest as you both pant heavily. The clothes worn sticking almost uncomfortably due to the sweatiness of each other. His warm tongue lapping lovingly against the mark he made before he finally leans back. His knot still keeping the both of you connected as it won’t deflate for a bit longer. The smell of the intense coupling is sure to deter anyone from even getting within 30 feet of the breakroom. Not that he’d ever let anyone see you like this. Not his pretty little mate. No, no, no, this sight is for him and him only.

Drinking in the vision of you, mellowed out and soft on the hard table. Hair spread around you like a halo, tired eyes shutting to a close, mouth open and panting. The bulge in your stomach scratches at the delicious size difference between the two of you. His cock twitches from inside you as he wonders how you’ll take him if he took your plump ass. Though an animalistic instinct demands that he not waste his seed, preferring to keep his Omega filled with his warm seed. Snug and protected safely in your precious womb.

“Ghost,” your words softer than he’s ever heard it, eyes opening as you shiver from the shift in his touching, his scent smells more welcoming. More warmth, like firewood on a cold night and the bourbon that he likes. The rare gentleness throwing you off a bit as he rocks his hips forward. A low hiss from your mouth as you’re far too sensitive and yet a slow build of pleasure starts to grow as your overstimulated pussy clenches in response. Your head turning up with a needy whine.

His lips pull back into a wolfish smile. Needy Omega he muses to himself. His Omega. “Simon.” Stating his name and he places a large warm hand over the bulge of your stomach. A primal instinct lighting up at the thought of the seed catching on the first try. Imagining you round with his pups is a black hole that he’ll gladly fall into. He didn’t mean to bite you, didn’t mean to claim you but what’s done is done.

He just wanted to fuck and get rid of his obsession over you but if he did this all over again he wouldn’t stop himself. He’d gladly bite you over and over again.

“Call me Simon.” Your breath hitching as he says his name firmly, commanding you to him by a name he rarely gives out. “Want you to say my name from now on.” His knot starting to deflate. “After all,” He may not have meant to bite you but that doesn’t mean he won’t uphold it. You’re his now. He won’t let go of you no matter how much you’ll kick and scream once your senses finally come to and the high of pleasure fades. Slowly pulling out as his potent cum spills out. Your head scrunches up, sighing pathetically from the loss of his cock.

“You’re mine now.”

His hand sliding between your shaking legs that still wrap loosely around his waist. Scooping up the cum that tries to escape, to go where it shouldn’t. A rumble in his chest, his second nature demanding to keep his Omega filled and sated. His fingers push it back in eliciting a sharp gasp. He can’t help but grin at how sensitive you are.

He leans close and as he uses his fingers as a plug. “Now be a good little mate and keep’em safe. Gotta make do on my promise to breed you after all.” His cock already starting to harden, his stamina has always been the best and he’s never broken a promise.

Ever.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #alpha simon riley #Possessive Simon Ghost Riley #cod smut #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega verse #Alpha/Omega #Your smart mouth lands you in trouble #non con #non con to dub con #READ THE TAGS #minors dni #breeding k1nk #kn0tting

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 2

“like an angel to me”

A/N: so I think this is the fastest I have ever written something in awhile! Every time I think there’s no possible way for me to want Joel even more, I surprise myself with something like this 🥴

~word count : 5.3k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: after showing up to Joel’s apartment late one night, he gives you exactly what you’re seeking.

Warnings: dubcon/teetering on noncon (the lines are pretty blurred but I just want to be safe) coercion, manipulation, mind games, degradation, a sprinkle of misogyny, possession, ownership, dominance, humiliation, reader goes from being a dom to a sub real quick, brat tamer, praise kink, size kink, blood kink??, spitting kink, unprotected PIV, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, light spanking, oral (male receiving) little to no foreplay, some aftercare??, Joel is an asshole, delulu! Joel, cockslut, whore, bitch, are all used. Age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in late 20’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, this story might not be for everyone, and that’s okay! Please heed the warnings! If I have missed any, PLEASE let me know. +18 minors dni!

The last thing Joel Miller expected you to do was laugh. Not just giggle, or a snicker, no. It was a full on wheezing laugh.

“Oh my fuckin’ god. You’re not actually serious, are you? Wow, is this supposed to make my panties wet or something? Cus’ it’s sure doin’ the complete opposite!”

His face turned beet red all the way to the tips of his ears. The glass that was clenched firmly in his fist was on the verge of shattering. Guess he couldn’t handle his fragile ego being busted open, huh?

“Y’think you’re so funny, huh?” His confidence was wavering on thin ice as he reached for the bottle instead.

“Oh, yeah. I think I am absolutely fucking hysterical. What? You don’t get your dick wet enough around here as it is? Oh, shit! Is it because your dick is small? It’s alright, Joel. Most women don’t care about size anyway.” You were smirking through your teeth as you sipped away at what was left in your glass.

The glowering man sitting across from you took one harsh swig from the bottle before he cracked his neck to the side. “I get my dick wet around here plenty. Thank you for showin’ some concern though. Ain’t you just a real peach? Why even mention my dick size, huh? Ask any woman around here and they’ll all tell you that I am well endowed.” He nearly growled as he slammed the bottle down along the coffee table.

“Geez, don’t go and get your panties all in a twist, Miller. I have no interest in knowing anything that has to do with you dick, I assure you. God, I swear all men, even after the world has gone to shit, are the same. Y’can’t handle someone busting your ego? Well, aren’t you just some delicate fuckin’ china.” You scoffed and placed your glass down on the coffee table like a dignified person.

Oh, you didn’t just bust his ego, you shattered it right down to the core. He could handle some bruising, sure. But god, if he didn’t want to tear you into two right now—

“Maybe I shoulda let those men in the alley fuckin’ tear you apart, since you think this is so fuckin’ funny. D’ya have any fuckin’ manners at all?! I risked MY fuckin’ skin to save your own and this is how you’re gonna act?!” His voice boomed through the thin apartment walls. He expected you to cower. To profusely apologize for poking the angry bear. Instead, you stood your ground.

“Maybe you should have! You could have just minded your own and let them fuck me up, but instead you what? Wanted to be the hero?! I never asked you to come and rescue me, Joel! Y’want me to say thank you? Fine. Thank you oh so much for saving me, Joel Miller! How can I ever repay you?” You mockingly batted your lashes, followed by an eye roll as you rose to your feet.

“Yeah, well, next time I ain’t gonna be there to save your skin! So, why don’t you jus’ go on back out into the streets, and see what happens!” He shook his head tightly as his jaw clenched like a fist.

“Great! That’s the best news ever because like I just said, I never asked you to rescue me!” You yelled exasperatedly as you made your way over to the door. Your head still throbbed, and your nose felt like a million tiny shards were digging into the flesh, but you’d much rather spend a night in lock up than another minute with this man.

“Great! Jus’ be on your way then, girlie!” He grumbled through his teeth.

“Oh, and Joel? For the sake of all the women in the QZ, why don’t you just keep your dick in your fuckin’ pants.” You gave him the middle finger before yanking his apartment door open. “Do not fuckin’ follow me home.” Was the last thing you said before you slammed the door behind you on the way out.

“Oh, don’t you worry! I ain’t gonna follow your bratty, disrespectful, no good—” he was cut off by the apartment door swinging shut so hard, it nearly fell off the hinges.

For good measure, the brooding bear got up from where he was sitting and locked the apartment door just in case you thought about coming back. Not that you were going to as you were already halfway across the QZ street heading home.

Joel Miller did not see you again for what felt like months (not really. He’s just a bit dramatic is all) when all in all reality, it had been two weeks to the date. He thought maybe you had died, or worse; He thought that maybe there was a chance that you got infected. Good riddance.

But then Tess told him that you were in fact alive, but avoiding him.

Joel knew why of course. He was quite the dickhead during your last interaction. Tess couldn’t really blame you for wanting absolutely nothing to do with Joel Miller ever again.

Business carried on like usual on their end even without your addictive charm in the mix.

You fucked a FEDRA soldier for extra ration cards just out of spite, and to get Joel Miller’s stupid face eliminated from your brain permanently. If you ever ran into that man again, you wanted to be smelling of another man’s cum just to rile him up all over again.

You wanted to crawl right up into his skin. Cover him in welts and hives to drive him mad. Hell, you wanted to poison him and leave him without the antidote. Fuckin’ Joel Miller and his stupid Texas twang and those piercing brown eyes and massive hands.

Perhaps that’s how you found yourself outside his apartment door late one night searching for a vice to be filled again.

You knocked once, then paused and knocked twice.

This is fucking stupid. What the hell am I doing?

When you heard no immediate answer from the other side of the door, you assumed that he wasn’t home and proceeded to turn on your heel to walk away—

The door squeaked open as Joel Miller's head appeared from the doorway.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight, Angel.” He rasped deeply. You couldn’t even see his face yet, and you just knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on it.

“Miller.” You acknowledged him with a tight nod when you finally turned to face him.

He was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed and brow raised curiously.

“And what is it exactly that you're showin’ up here for?” He knows, of course. He’s known for awhile, but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Somethin’ that I heard you have to personally ask for. Somethin’ that isn’t advertised on your little menu here, Joel.”

his lips curve upwards in a wolfish grin. He cocks his chin to the side as his broad arm comes to rest along the chipped wood on the doorframe.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d finally give in, Angel.” He rasps. Thick and deep. His words hang heavy in the sultry air.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his response as you crossed your arms against your chest. “Okay, well, you don’t need to be all mysterious about it. Now, can I come in, please?”

“I see you're still at it with being a disrespectful brat, huh?” He pushed himself off the side of the doorframe so that you could make your way inside. The door was pulled shut behind you with a soft woosh of air.

“Yep, and I all I could think about these past few weeks of you fuckin’ the disrespectful brat right out of me, Joel.”

I fuckin’ knew it.

“Oh, I see. So, that’s what you’ve been up to all these weeks is thinkin’ about me?” He awaited your answer with a bated breath.

“No.” You deadpanned with a faux sigh. “Was too busy fucking a FEDRA officer for some ration cards. Didn’t have enough space in my brain to think about you setting me straight.” You teased with a smirk playing on your lips.

His fists clenched at his sides as his jaw tightened. The thought of you fucking another man, let alone a FEDRA officer?

“Hmm. Is that so? Well, I think you’re lyin’ through your teeth right now, Angel.” He wasn’t about to let you get under his skin that easily.

“Me? A liar? Oh, I’m truly wounded. C’mere, Joel. I bet you can still smell him on me.” You purred softly.

His eye twitched as he imagined you screaming another man’s name as you rode his cock—

He took a few steps towards you and backed you right up against the countertop. He dipped his head down towards your face as his hands came to rest along either side of the cool countertop. His nostrils flared as he inhaled your scent with his nose pressed deeply into the clavicle of your throat. “Did ya fuck him before you showed up here? Answer me, Angel. And y’better tell the truth.” His voice dropped an octave that shamelessly sent a pool of arousal dripping through your panties.

“Mhm. I fucked him before I showed up here. His cum is still inside of me, Joel. Y’gonna fill me up too?”

His teeth grazed the spot where your neck met your collarbone as he dragged his hot tongue across your skin. “S’that what Y’want?”

“Sure.” You shrugged almost disinterested.

“That ain’t how this works. Y’tell me exactly what it is that you want from me, and I deliver. Y’got that?” He asked you sternly as the bridge of his nose dragged upwards across your throat.

“Ah. So the women you fuck tell you what they want, and that’s all you do to them? Well, where’s the fun in that? Seems kinda boring to me, Joel.”

“Y’don’t like my rules, then y’can fuckin’ leave. That’s how things work around here, baby. So, I’ll ask y’again, what do you want from me?”

“Hold on. Hold on, cowboy. Pump the breaks. What if the thing they’re requesting is something you’re not interested in? You still do it? What about the things that you want? Ain’t that important in all this?”

“God, you’re annoyin’, y’know that? Can you just answer the goddamn question? I ain’t have all night.” He grumbled impatiently.

Then you did something that neither of you expected. You reached your hand up between your nearly touching bodies and grabbed ahold of his jaw tightly between your fingers and forced him to look directly into your eyes. “No. Fuck that. The world has gone to shit and you’re not thinkin’ of your own desires? Man, don’t you wanna be in charge for once? You think I’m so annoying and nothin’ but a disrespectful brat? Then show me what you do to women like me. Put me in my place, Joel.” You challenged him.

It was as if something inside of him had snapped. Maybe you were right. Maybe he oughta put you in your place after all. Why only be half in charge of how things played out, when he could take the whole cake himself?

“Alright. We’ll play the game my way then.” He chuckled darkly as his knuckles turned stark white from how hard he was gripping either side of the countertop.

As soon as you went to open your mouth, one of his hands clamped down instantly as he leaned in close. “Startin’ with shuttin’ this smart fuckin’ mouth of yours up. Yeah, ain’t so tough now, are ya Angel? Didn’t think so. Now, I’m only gonna ask you once, alright? Get. On. Your. Fuckin.’ Knees. Now.” He commanded you.

You dropped to your knees like an obedient dog on a leash waiting to be rewarded with a treat.

“Wow, would ya look at that. Guess the bitch can be obedient after all.” He chuckled.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his new demeanor. You weren’t one for teasing, and right now Joel Miller was testing your patience.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that. You’re the one who showed up at my door, remember? This ain’t goin’ fast enough for you? Well, we’ll just see about that.” He tsked under his breath as his hand moved from your mouth to resting along your jaw.

“Open.” He commanded you as he applied a bit of pressure to either side of your cheeks. When you obediently opened your mouth, he praised you. “Good girl.” Followed by a light loving slap to your cheek. “Now, the way I see it is that you have three holes for me to fuck.”

His grin intensified when your eyes widened at his suggestion. It wasn’t that..you were afraid but if he wanted to fuck you in the ass at some point, you’d need to be ready for him.

“Oh ho ho. I see. You ain’t ever done that before? Hmm. I’m surprised that a mouthy bratty whore such as yourself hasn’t had a cock in her ass before. Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time.” He leaned down so he was closer to your face as the blunt ends of his fingernails dug into the skin on your cheeks. His lip curled up into a snarl as his pupils darkened. “But then again, I am supposed to be puttin’ you in your place. Ain’t I, Angel?”

Tears began to spring along your waterline from how hard he was gripping your face. Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew. “You’re hurting me, Joel.” You gritted out as a few tears leaked down your cheekbones.

“Good.” “Now I have your full attention. That’s very good, Angel. Look at you bein’ a good girl with your listenin’ ears. Now, if I do remember from our prior interaction, you assumed that my dick was small. Ain’t that right?”

You nodded meekly.

“Ah ah ah. Words, Angel. Use ‘em. I ain’t into silence. You speak when spoken to. Y’got that?” He squeezed your cheeks tightly as tears continued to roll down them.

“Yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He loosened his grip on your face, which in turn allowed you to relax your jaw. “Where were we? Ah! Right. The part where you assumed that my cock was small. Right before you called me some delicate fuckin’ china. So, how about you see for yourself.” He gestured to the growing tent in his jeans. “Don’t be shy now. Go’on and see if the women in the QZ are jus’ sayin’ horse shit about my size.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you felt his eyes burning holes in your skull from how harshly he was staring you down. Your hands quivered under his gaze as you reached for his belt to undo it.

“Don’t act so nervous, Angel. It’s just a cock. It ain’t gonna bite ya.” He teased with a chuckle. You could visibly see his hardened cock twitch under the confines.

You undid his belt before looping your fingers through the faded fabric and tugged them down swiftly over his ass and thighs.

You saw the sheer size and the girth of him through the tight fabric of his briefs as his own hand reached down to palm himself through the fabric.

“Holy shit.” You whispered in awe as your jaw fell open.

How in the hell is that supposed to fit?

He seemed to be reading your mind as his hand that was palming himself reached for your own and placed it under his. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’tcha worry your pretty little head about that. Although, maybe now is a good time to take back that little comment you made, hmm?”

Your own fingers dragged across the stiff outline of his cock as your eyes flitted upwards to meet his gaze. “I take it back.”

“Take back what?” He pressed.

“Sayin’ that you probably have a small dick.” You spoke quietly through the thick rising tension between you.

“Atta girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, huh? Still need’ya to take it out for me, Angel. Gettin’ awfully painful for me.” He hissed between his teeth when your hands finally grasped the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down. His cock sprang up freely against his taut stomach. The tip was gleaming with a bead of precum that was weeping from the slit.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself, girlie. Get to it” he gruffly requested as he placed one hand along the back of your head and nudged you forward towards his cock.

For a brief moment you thought about just biting his dick off right then and there. Sorry, the voices. You just didn’t want to seem too excited. The FEDRA officer you recently fucked had nothing on Joel Miller’s cock. That was for damn sure.

Your glassy eyes stayed locked on his darkened ones as you stuck your tongue out and gave the tip of his cock a light kitten lick. He must have not been too pleased with it because his grip around your head tightened as he yanked your head upwards.

“Suck now, Or you ain’t gettin’ shit in return. We clear?” He asked you sternly with his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Crystal.” You mumbled in response before wrapping your palm around the base of his length and gave it a few slow tugs. When you finally obeyed, and he felt the wet heat of your mouth engulfing his weeping tip, his shoulders slumped as he inhaled a shaky breath.

“Shit—yeah. There ya go. See, that ain’t so hard? Fuck—that’s good, Angel.” He praised you from above as his hand loosened its grip around your head for a millisecond.

You relaxed your jaw on instinct to slowly inch your mouth further around him. The girth of his cock was stretching your mouth further than it had ever been stretched. Drool mixed with precum dribbled down your chin as fresh tears sprung to your eyes. You truly weren’t sure how you were supposed to fit all of him.

Joel didn’t want to admit it outloud, but seeing you sitting so pretty on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and little tears leaking from your watery eyes, he never thought you looked so beautiful.

“That’s it, Angel. Relax a little more. Convince me that you’re actually enjoyin’ this. C’mon. Ain’t you a bit of an actress after all?” He chuckled.

Your hands found purchase around his bare muscular thighs as you tried to push yourself back for a gulping of air. Joel didn’t allow you the pleasure however as his hand was still firmly holding your head in place. You let out a sound that was nothing short of frustration before the tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat, igniting your gag reflex to kick in.

Joel loved it.

His eyes rolled back when your throat clenched around him like a fist. His nails scraped lightly at your scalp as he threw his head back. He had received many blowjobs in his lifetime, but most women couldn’t take him all in. But once again, you proved Joel Miller wrong.

Feeling rather pleased with your work on him, Joel finally allowed you that breath of air that you so desperately needed as he removed his hand from your head. You immediately pushed yourself back off his thighs as his cock slipped out of your mouth with a light pop. You coughed a few times, gasping as a string of saliva hung from the tip of his cock all the way to your lips.

Before you could fully recover, his warm calloused palms were wrapped around your forearms and yanking you up from the faded tile floor hastily. He proceeded to wipe away your tears as his cock, still very much hard, twitched between you.

“Remember, Angel. You’re the one that showed up to my apartment like the cheap, bratty, beggin’ whore that you are. You asked for this. Y’wanna leave? Doors right there. I won’t stop you.” His thumb brushed the spot just below your eye.

You shook your head immediately. If it wasn’t for the constant tingle that simmered between your thighs, you probably would have hightailed out of there.

His smirk was nothing short of proud as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Very good, Angel. Very good. I’m testin’ you, and you’re passing with flying colors. Got your listenin’ ears on and everythin.’ Y’know what happens when you’re a good girl? Y’get rewarded. And I’m feelin’ mighty generous..so in the next five seconds you’re gonna take your pretty ass on over to the couch, you’re gonna strip down and bend over the side of it. Y’got that?”

You nodded as your hands already dropped to the hem of your shirt, fingers playing with the frayed ends. “Yes, sir.”

He patted your cheek affectionately before he stalked off to his room. You could hear him counting down from five as you scrambled to discard your shirt and tug your jeans down over your thighs. Your pulse quickened as you made your way over to the couch and bent over the side of it. You shouldn’t have felt this excited, but Joel Miller truly did bring the inner whore in you out to play.

His footsteps were heavy and audible just as you were reaching for the waistband of your faded panties to drag them down your legs.

“Ah. I’m sorry, Angel. Was five seconds not enough for ya?” He tuts softly under his breath. His footsteps hold a slight swagger as you feel the heat of his body simmering on your bare skin. His hand rests along the back of your thighs before slowly dragging upwards. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh as your covered pussy clenches around air. “Didn’t give ya enough time to take these off, hmm?” He hummed under his breath as he dragged his thumb across your covered core, applying the tiniest of pressure.

“Joel,” you whimper with a sharp breath when you the pad of his thumb pressing against you. “I’m—sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” He sounds slightly confused at your apology. You can’t see his face, but you imagine his head cocking to the side as he gazes down at you like a starved man salivating at the wet patch that pools in the fabric of your thin panties. “Honey, this ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for.” He reassures you as his head dips down.

You can feel his wiry, coarse beard scraping gently at the base of your spine. His lips on your searing skin are wet, hot, and inviting as he begins to leave open mouth kisses all the way up to the spot between your shoulder blades. You feel both of his massive hands prying your cheeks apart, followed by the slick length of his cock sliding through your covered folds.

He grunts directly into your ear as the sheer mass of his body conceals you like a cloak. He’s so fucking big. It's suffocating, almost. Being enveloped by a man such as him. Your thighs rubbed together to relieve the ache between them.

Can he just get on with it already?

“Now, Angel. I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt of yours till your legs shake. Till that stupid FEDRA officers come doesn’t even fuckin’ exist anymore. You’re gonna scream my name, and you’re gonna let every single one of my goddamn neighbors in this shit hole apartment know jus��� who’s fuckin’ you so well. Hell, maybe even that FEDRA fuck will be able to hear you from outside. You’re gonna scream and cum, like the dirty, obedient, little cockslut that you are.” He growled before bringing his palm down against your ass with a harsh, stinging slap that sent your back arching.

“And maybe, if you do as your told, and you milk my cock fuckin’ dry, I’ll treat you like a princess. Food. Shelter. A cock to keep you warm at night? Soft touches. Kisses. The comfort that I know you so desperately fuckin’ seek. All of that, and more can be yours, Angel. You jus’ have to be good and do as your told.” His teeth scraped the outer shell of your ear before he bit down on the thin skin harshly between his teeth. His thumbs looped between the waistband of your panties before he yanked them down to your ankles swiftly.

“Joel, that’s not what—” you tried to speak and get a few words in. But this was his show, not yours.

“That’s not what, Angel? That’s not what you want? Oh, please. Let’s not start this off by lyin’ to me. You showed up here tonight because you were seekin’ somethin’ I offered. I know how that brain of yours works, little girl. Y’sure can run that mouth of yours, but you and I both know that you’re fuckin’ helpless. Those men in the alley would have killed you if it weren’t for me. They would have torn you to shreds had I not stepped in. Say it, Angel. Say that I saved you.” He snarled unkindly as his freehand slipped around to your mouth. He pressed a kiss to your throat, right where he could feel your pulse quicken. “Spit.” He commanded you.

You shamelessly spit of glob of saliva right into the palm of his hand just like you were told.

His annoyance was prevalent when you didn't bother to answer his demand for you to admit that he saved you. Your blood was pumping in your veins and your heart was beating because of him.

You felt an unpleasant chill roll down every vertebrae in your spine when he didn’t praise you for spitting into his hand like a good girl. You tried to turn your head to the side to see what exactly it was that he was doing, but he didn’t give you that satisfaction. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to give that to you.

You went to open your mouth, to tell him just what he wanted to hear, but your words were muffled as he shoved your face right into the couch cushion. His hand encaged your head while the other slipped back between your nearly connected bodies. He used your saliva as lubricant as he fisted the heavy weight of his cock a few times.

Your body lurched forward when you felt the head of his cock pressing into your glistening hole. He was barely notched inside your cunt, and you were already trying to crawl away. He was too much.

He tuts with a disappointed sigh, shaking his head tightly. “Y’wanted this, remember?” He almost sounds pitiful. Almost. “Can’t exactly fuck this tight little hole if you ain’t holdin’ still, Angel.”

“Joel—it’s too. Fuck. It’s too much.” You whine pathetically as your nails dig into the worn fabric on the couch cushions.

“Too much for a fuckin’ cockslut like you? Shut the fuck up and take it.” He hissed between his teeth. “Just fuckin’ relax and quit bein’ so stiff. I’m tryin’ to make this an enjoyable experience for the both of us!” He snapped cruelly. He dropped his hand from around your head and opted to wrap his arm around your middle, yanking you back against his hips as he sank further into your heat.

“Actin’ like your pussy doesn’t want this, baby? She’s huggin’ me so fuckin’ tight already. She’s pullin’ me right on in. S’like she’s takin’ my cock fuckin’ home.” He groaned deeply as he bottomed out. Filling you to the fucking brim. His cock felt like it was splitting you in two, right down the middle. His chest was firmly pressed down against your back as he rolled his hips forward.

A strangled moan crawled up your throat as you found yourself fucking yourself around his cock. Showing him that you could in fact play the role. Be the actress. Milk him dry just as he requested.

“Joeeel.” You moaned wantonly with your cheek pressed firmly against the scratchy fabric of the cushions. Your tears had long since dried in a salty cavern along your cheekbones.

“That’s it, Angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. See, I told you I can fuckin’ treat you well.” He grunted praisingly as his lips found their way to your neck once more. He sucked, licked, kissed on your sweat-slicked skin as he pulled his hips back before jutting them forward once more. He set a deliciously deep and urgent pace as he fucked into you. “Don’t think for a second that I’m—-fuckin’ lettin’ you off the hook so easily, Angel. Y’still gotta tell me who saved you. Who saved your fuckin’ life!” His teeth grazed the thin, breakable skin along the column of your throat. He bit down harshly, drawing blood to the surface as he sucked on the entry wound that he created. A marking of dominance. Possession. The carnal need to own you.

The coil in your stomach tightened and pulled as your orgasm quickly approached. You liked it. You liked being fucked like the cockslut that you truly were. With each harsh thrust of his hips, the weight of his balls slapping against your skin, you cried out his name in a cock-drunk stupor.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Not the FEDRA officer fuck, right? Did he fuckin’ save your skin?! Huh?! No, Angel. He didn’t. Bet he woulda taken the opportunity to kill you, Angel. I bet they all fuckin’ would! Every last goddamn rotten, son-of-a-bitch sick fuck left in this shithole would jump at the opportunity to spill your blood on the streets below, Angel. Not me! Not Joel. Why do you think that, Angel? Why do you think I’d never let anyone hurt you?”

Your pussy clenched down around his cock as your strangled cries fell freely through your parted lips. Your back arched to meet his relentless thrusts.

“Because—because you own me, Joel!”

Maybe it was the endorphins coursing through your veins. Maybe it was the way Joel Miller’s cock continued to hit the spongy spot inside of you with every heavy thrust of his hips. Maybe it was the way he spoke to you. Or the way his body shielded yours with sheer strength. Maybe it was everything combined. In your cockdrunk haze, you wanted to be owned by this man.

“Yes, Angel. That’s right. I do fuckin’ own you. I own your body. This pussy. That smart mouth of yours. I own the come that drips between your thighs. I own your screams. I own your thoughts. Your feelings. Your likes and dislikes. I own every fuckin’ part of your being.” He growled possessively as his thighs and yours began to quiver. As his cock began to twitch, and your tight cunt began to pulse like a heartbeat.

“You own me, and I own you.”

He didn’t disagree. He didn’t argue as the cries of his name falling from your tongue mixed with his own heavy grunts.

Angel. Angel. Angel.

As he shot hot ropes of his seed into your fucked out hole, you milked him of every last drop, and as he slipped out, you could feel a mixture of his and your come dripping down between your thighs.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back as his breaths came out as hot puffs across your clammy skin. His cock softened against his thigh. Glistening in yours and his come. Your eyes fluttered shut as the post orgasm haze swept over you.

You felt two strong arms gently pulling you up as your head fell back against his strong shoulder. He held you securely against him. All you could hear was his heart beat and your intermingle breaths.

“Did you really go and fuck that FEDRA officer before you showed up here, Angel?” He asked softly while the pads of his thumbs rubbed soothing circles against your hips.

“No.” You admitted. “I didn’t.”

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

#tw dub con #tw non con #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel x reader #joel miller fic #post outbreak joel #dark joel miller #dark!joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller story #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us

[i-turned-into-the-stone]

[Commissioned] Special Guest: M!Reader × Yujin × Youngeun (Kep1er)

A/N: Almost 8k words of pure repetitive smut. Sorry about that.

Tags: Nonconsensual, Dubious Consent, Threesome, Degradation, Fingering, Tied Up, Strap-on, Light BDSM(?), Spanking, Breath Play, Blindfolding, Forced Anal, Daddy Kink, Forced Pussy Eating, Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Cum swallowing, Squirting

Word Count: 7,980

You and your girlfriend, Yujin, had been hyped for weeks to whip up some fresh content for your joint OnlyFans page. After scoring some killer outfits and props at the mall, you hit up the local sex shop for some extra goodies.

As you cruise the aisles, brainstorming which items will spice up your videos, you're buzzing with excitement. Your OnlyFans crew has been growing, and you're pumped to give them something new to drool over.

With your haul in tow, you head back to Yujin's place for dinner, because she's itching to flex her cooking skills, and you're always down for her grub. But when you get to her building, the elevator's busted, so it's stair-climbing time.

Yujin takes on the heavy lifting, toting the bags of toys and gear, while you wrestle with the camera stuff. By the time you hit the apartment door, you're both sweaty and winded. Yujin digs for her keys in her bag.

Once you're inside the cool apartment and all the gear's dumped, you catch a faint voice from Yujin’s housemate, Youngeun’s room. Yujin's brow furrows as you both exchange a puzzled glance.

Quietly, you both creep towards Youngeun's slightly ajar door. Peering inside, you see Youngeun lying on her bed, totally nude. Her laptop is open in front of her, playing a homemade porn video of you and Yujin fucking hard and passionately. 

Youngeun's legs are spread wide, her pussy glistening with arousal as she furiously rubs her clit. "Mmm...oppa...fuck yes..." she moans loudly, her back arching. "You should be pounding my virgin pussy, not Yujin's..."

Her free hand gropes her perky tits roughly as she watches the video intently. You can see her pussy lips quivering and her hips bucking upwards, desperately craving penetration. The lewd sounds of her fingers sloshing in her soaked slit fill the room.

"Gonna cum to oppa's big cock stretching Yujin's slutty hole..." Youngeun cries out shamelessly. "Wish it was my dripping cunt instead..."

Yujin stifles a gasp beside you, clearly turned on by the erotic display. You feel your cock straining against your pants as you watch Youngeun pleasure herself so wantonly.

Yujin is clearly aroused watching her roommate Youngeun shamelessly masturbate to the video of you two fucking. Instead of being jealous, she slyly fishes your hard cock out of your pants and starts stroking it firmly. Her soft hand glides up and down your thick shaft as you both continue spying on the lewd display.

With her other hand, Yujin hikes up her dress and rubs her soaked panties, teasing her swollen clit. She bites her lip, trying to stifle her moans of pleasure as she gets off to Youngeun's desperate cries.

"Fuck yes...gonna cum to oppa's big dick..." Youngeun whimpers, her hips thrashing wildly now. Her fingers are a blur as she pounds her dripping pussy.

You can smell the thick, musky scent of her arousal even from the doorway. Yujin jerks you faster, running her thumb over your sensitive cockhead. Pearly beads of pre-cum dribble out, lubricating her strokes.

Youngeun throws her head back, her tits jiggling as she finally hits her orgasm. "Oppa! Yes… fuck me!” she screams, her whole body shaking. Her pussy squirts clear girl-cum across her thighs and sheets as she rides out her powerful climax.

Yujin whimpers softly beside you, her own orgasm crashing over her. Her cream soaks through her flimsy panties as she coats your shaft with her juices. The combined scents of two pussies fill the air.

Youngeun lays spent on her bed, her naked body glistening with sweat. She's still riding the aftershocks of her powerful orgasm, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. She's completely unaware that you and Yujin have been watching her.

Seizing the opportunity, Yujin suddenly drops to her knees in front of you. Despite her cute, innocent looks, she has an insatiable sexual appetite. Without hesitation, she takes your thick, throbbing cock into her mouth, sucking greedily. 

Her soft lips stretch around your girthy shaft as she bobs her head back and forth. Yujin's cheeks hollow with each hungry slurp, her tongue swirling around its head. You groan low at the sensation of her warm, wet mouth engulfing you.

Yujin's big eyes look up at you lustfully as she sucks you off. One of her hands fondles your heavy balls while the other rubs her sopping pussy through her drenched panties. The squelching sounds mix with her sloppy sucking noises.

You can't resist tangling your fingers in her silky hair, guiding her head to take you deeper into her throat. Yujin obediently relaxes her jaw, letting you face-fuck her pretty mouth. Drool and pre-cum drip down her chin as you use her for your pleasure.

The sight of her sweet, innocent face getting absolutely defiled is almost too much. You feel your balls tightening, getting ready to flood Yujin's greedy mouth with your seed.

You suck in a groan as your orgasm hits, pumping thick ropes of hot cum straight down Yujin's throat. She gags slightly but keeps sucking, determined to swallow every drop of your salty seed.

When you're finally spent, Yujin pulls off with an audible pop, panting heavily. A trickle of your jizz leaks from the corner of her mouth as she licks her lips. Her face is absolutely lecherous and her hair mussed from her enthusiastic oral efforts.

Not wanting Youngeun to catch you both, you and Yujin quickly but quietly retreat from outside her bedroom door. Once safely in the living room, Yujin fixes you with a devilish look.

“Wow, I never knew that girl is such a desperate little whore." Yujin giggles, and is clearly riled up from the erotic display. "I want you to help me teach her a lesson, babe.”

You nod, grinning, already feeling your cock stiffening again at the thought. "Whatever you have in mind, baby.”

Yujin smirks, reaching down to grope your growing bulge. "Good. Because I have the perfect plan to make that slutty roommate of mine get what she desperately wants."

She leans in and whispers the deliciously depraved details in your ear. Your sadistic grin widens with each filthy word, already picturing Youngeun's terrified yet aroused expression as you both subject her to all manner of twisted depravities.

Over dinner, you and Yujin act completely normal around Youngeun, giving no hint that you caught her sensual display earlier. But Yujin can't resist messing with the younger girl a little before the real fun begins.

Every chance she gets, Yujin is all over you - feeding you bites of food, running her hands along your muscular thighs, even planting sloppy kisses on your neck and cheeks. She's marking her territory, letting Youngeun know you belong to her.

Youngeun tries to complain jokingly about you two being so lovey-dovey, but there's an undercurrent of irritation in her voice. "Get a room, you horny rabbits!" she huffs, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Little does Youngeun know, that's exactly what you and Yujin have planned for her. While she was busy fantasizing about your cock earlier, Yujin slipped a strong sedative into Youngeun's drink when she was preparing dinner.

You have to stifle a grin as Youngeun's movements gradually become more sluggish throughout the meal. Her eyelids start drooping and her speech slurs, clearly feeling the effects of the drugs.

"W-what… Sorry, I feel so sleepy… I will just…" she tries getting up hazily before her eyes roll back. Youngeun slumps forward, face-planting right beside her plate of half-eaten food.

You and Yujin share a chuckle as the girl is knocked completely unconscious. "Showtime," Yujin purrs while you grab Youngeun's limp body and haul her over your shoulder. "Let's take this poor girl to the bedroom and make her dreams come true.”

*SMACK!*

Youngeun jolts awake with a pained yelp as your palm connects harshly with her plump ass cheek. She's completely disoriented, realizing she's only clad in her skimpy bra and panties now. Goosebumps rise on her exposed skin from the cold air.

Before she can get her bearings, you've already secured the girl's wrists tightly behind her back with coarse ropes. Youngeun whimpers in confusion as Yujin blindfolds her, plunging her world into darkness.

You've positioned the bound girl on her knees with her upper body bent over the edge of the bed. Her tits are mashed against the mattress and her firm ass is lewdly presented in the air, pussy mere inches from your face.

Youngeun tries lifting her head, but Yujin immediately steps on it, grinding her cheek into the sheets. "Stay down like a good girl, Youngeun-ah," your sadistic girlfriend taunts. "Your beloved 'oppa' is busy recording that pussy of yours.”

"Y-Yujin unnie?" Youngeun stammers, voice thick with terror. "What's happening? Why am I tied up?!"

You answer her question by bringing your palm down on her exposed ass again with a harsh *SMACK!* The soft cheeks jiggle deliciously from the impact.

"No more questions," you say coldly. "Just stay still and present that slutty hole for the viewers’ pleasure.”

The camera is already rolling as Yujin begins her intro speech. "What's up guys, it's your favorite cam slut Yujin here with a very special guest for this week’s show."

She steps aside, making sure to get Youngeun's blindfolded, bound and kneeling form in the frame. The poor girl is trembling with fear and humiliation, realizing this twisted performance is being broadcast for strangers' entertainment.

"As you can see, we have my cute little roommate Youngeun all tied up and ready to be used," Yujin continues with a wicked grin. "This dumb bitch has been lusting after my daddy’s cock, so I thought I'd give her a taste."

Youngeun whimpers pathetically, shaking her head in denial. "N-No...please, I don't want this! Don't show me to people on the internet, unnie!"

But her muffled pleas fall on deaf ears. Yujin's demeanor instantly shifts as she grabs a fistful of Youngeun's hair, yanking her head back roughly.

"Shut the fuck up, you little slut," she snarls with venom. "We know you've been dying for daddy's big dick after watching our private videos. So be a good girl, put on a show for daddy and my viewers, and maybe you'll get that cock stuffed in your worthless holes.”

To emphasize her point, Yujin shoves the vibrating wand into your hands. You grin nodding as you bring the buzzing toy to Youngeun's covered pussy lips, teasing.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of Youngeun's skimpy panties and yank them down to her knees in one motion. The poor girl screams into the mattress, muffled by Yujin's foot grinding into her cheek.

Her cries rise to a shrieking pitch as you press the buzzing vibrator against her bare, puffy folds. Youngeun's back arches, her bound arms straining against the ropes as the intense vibrations assault her sensitive nether region.

"MMMMPPPHHH!!! NNNGGGHHH!!!" she sobs, drool pooling beneath her face as she writhes in overstimulated agony.

But you show no mercy, working the vibrating wand up and down her slit, avoiding her clit just enough to keep her on the torturous edge of orgasm. Youngeun's hips buck shamelessly, chasing that elusive release.

Yujin takes advantage of the thrashing girl's open mouth, grabbing a fat, purple dildo from the nightstand. With a giddy laugh, she grips Youngeun's hair, yanking her head up at a painful angle.

"Open wide for unnie's cock, you cock-craving whore!" Not waiting for a response before plunging the thick, veiny shaft past Youngeun's lips.

The bound girl gags and chokes as Yujin immediately starts throat-fucking her with the huge toy, using her spit as lubrication. Her cheeks suck in with each thrust, drool sputtering down her chin as the dildo batters her tonsils.

"Mmm, that's it slut, take unnie's big cock like the dirty depraved whore you are," Yujin coos in a sickly-sweet tone, even as she ruthlessly skull-fucks Youngeun with the massive dildo.

The poor girl's eyes are rolling back under the dark silk scarf around her head, tears and drool streaking her reddened cheeks as she gags and retches around the thick shaft plundering her mouth. Her body jerks with every harsh push, spit frothing at her lips.

Meanwhile, you keep Youngeun's legs spread wide, pinning one thigh down so she can't squeeze them shut. With your free hand, you continue tormenting her pussy with the vibrating wand.

"Such a messy little cunt, getting so wet for daddy’s toy," you taunt, dragging the buzzing head up and down her entrance.

Youngeun's hips worm around, grinding against the vibrator as her arousal builds. Thick cream coats her folds and inner thighs, her body betraying how much she craves this depraved abuse despite her muffled protests.

"Does this closeted slut want to cum?" you ask with a cruel smirk, pressing the vibrating tip against her swollen clit. Youngeun's whole body tenses, a guttural moan escaping around Yujin's throat-stuffing dildo.

"Too bad,” immediately pulling the vibrator away and delivering a harsh slap to her wet pussy. "Stupid whores like you don't get to cum until you've earned it."

Youngeun sobs brokenly as her denied orgasm crashes over her in searing waves of torment. Youngeun gasps desperately for air as Yujin finally relents, pulling the spit-soaked dildo from the girl's throat. 

She coughs and wheezes, drool dribbling down her chin. "Please...huu...I can't breathe..." she rasps between ragged inhales. "Oppa, please...I'm sorry if I–"

But Yujin cuts her apology short by immediately shoving the thick cock-toy back into Youngeun's mouth, muffling her words into garbled choking sounds.

"Listen here, you dumb cunt," Yujin snarls, gripping Youngeun's hair tightly. "Don't you ever disrespect Daddy like that again. You address him properly, understand?" To emphasize her point, she fucks the dildo in and out of Youngeun's stuffed mouth a few times before pulling it out again.

As punishment for her insolence, you bring the vibrating wand back to her throbbing pussy. But instead of the mind-numbing stimulation she craves, you simply tap the buzzing head against her sensitive folds once, then pull it away.

Youngeun's back arches with a pitiful whine, her hips chasing the denied pleasure. You repeat the teasing process, lightly dragging the vibrator over her puffy lips and engorged clit only to yank it away before she can get any relief.

Over and over you torment the poor girl, bringing her to the edge of sweet release with each light touch, only to cruelly rip it away. Youngeun's thighs quiver and her stomach muscles clench as her orgasm builds but you refuse to give her that satisfaction.

"P-Please, oppa– daddy! Ahh~ l will be good, hng!" she finally sobs, legs shaking. "I'll call you whatever you want! Just please stop! No! No! Let me cum!"

Yujin pushes the dildo into Youngeun's mouth one last time before pulling it out with a pop, leaving the poor girl gasping. "I want to hear you scream for Daddy," she demands, giving Youngeun's hair a yank. “Well, go on. Scream Daddy's name at the top of your lungs so he knows just how badly you need his cock!"

Youngeun hesitates for just a moment before the denial becomes too much. "D-DADDYYYY!!" she wails loudly, voice cracking with desperation. "PLEASE DADDY, I NEED YOU!!"

"Louder, you worthless cunt!" Yujin demands, slapping Youngeun's reddened cheek. "Let the whole neighborhood know what a cock-starved whore you are!"

"DADDYYYYYY!!!" Youngeun shrieks, putting every ounce of her being into that guttural scream. "PLEASE FUCK YOUR LITTLE SLUT!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOUR COCK, DADDYYYY!!!"

You chuckle amused at her pathetic display, dropping the vibrator to the floor. "Such a needy little girl, begging for Daddy's dick like a bitch in heat.”

Gripping her thighs tightly, you spread Youngeun's legs wider, exposing her pretty pink pussy to your hungry gaze. Her bare, puffy lips are swollen and glistening, coated in her arousal.

"This sad little hole is all you've had to play with, huh baby girl?" you taunt, dragging a finger through her slick folds. "Just your own tiny fingers stuffed in this tight cunt, no wonder you're so fucking desperate for a real cock!"

Youngeun moans loudly as you sink two digits knuckle-deep into her sopping channel, her velvet walls fluttering around the intrusion, immediately set a punishing pace, finger-fucking her dripping slit as she writhes and mewls.

"You want Daddy's big dick stuffing you full of cum? Stretching this sad, undersized pussy around until you're screaming for mercy?"

"YES DADDY!!" she screams without hesitation, her shame abandoned in the pursuit of pleasure. "FILL ME UP WITH YOUR COCK!! PLEASE RUIN MY WORTHLESS VIRGIN CUNT!!"

With you vigorously finger-fucking Youngeun's sopping cunt, Yujin decides she needs some attention too. The sadistic woman strips off her lacy bra and panties, tossing them aside carelessly before dropping her naked ass right in front of Youngeun's face.

"Alright, honey,” Yujin says, grabbing a fistful of Youngeun's hair and yanking her head up roughly. "If you want Daddy to let you cum, you need to make me cum first with that tongue of yours.”

Youngeun's eyes go wide as she senses Yujin spreads her legs, exposing her, pinkish  pussy mere inches from the blindfolded girl's face. She tries to protest, but all that escapes her lips is a garbled moan of pleasure as your fingers sliding in and out of her clenching hole.

"Uh uh, no excuses, bitch,” Yujin’s tone changes again, grinding her dripping crotch against Youngeun's cheek and smearing her horny juice across the younger girl's face. "I don't give a fuck if you've never eaten pussy before. You're gonna lap up every drop of my cum like a dehydrated whore in the desert."

Poor Youngeun is overwhelmed by the relentless stimulation, your thick scratching digits stretching and filling her throbbing cunt. Her hips moves out of control, fucking herself on your hand as she chases that maddening release.

But no matter how delirious with pleasure she becomes, Yujin refuses to let up. She smothers Youngeun's face in her musky folds, grinding her soaked pussy against the girl's gasping mouth.

"Lick it, slut! Fucking lick unnie's pussy and make me cum all over your slutty pretty face!" she demands, fisting Youngeun's hair tightly. "Don't you dare stop until I'm screaming and gushing all over you!"

With no other choice, Youngeun finally extends her trembling tongue.

The second Youngeun's hesitant tongue makes contact with Yujin's slick folds, the cruel woman clamps her thighs around the girl's head in a vice-like grip. Youngeun's muffled cries are abruptly silenced as her face is smothered between Yujin's milky thighs, nose buried in her musky pussy.

"That's it, breathe deep!" Yujin moans, grinding her drenched entrance against Youngeun's gasping mouth. "Get a good taste of unnie's sweet cream before you start lapping it up.”

Youngeun's eyes roll back as she desperately inhales, Yujin's tangy arousal invading her senses. Instead of air, she's forced to snort the older woman's sticky precum with each frantic breath through her nose. 

Meanwhile, your fingers continue their in and out motion on Youngeun's leaking cunt. Her lower body grows taut as a bowstring, thighs shaking and toes curling as you ruthlessly edge her towards a shattering climax she's denied over and over.

Yujin bucks her hips, rubbing her folds across Youngeun's face as she fucks the girl's mouth and nose with needs. "That's right slut, get your tongue nice and deep in there!" she growls. "I'm not letting you up for air until you make me fucking cum!"

Choking and gagging, Youngeun’s tongue brushes clumsily at Yujin's swollen pussy, licking and slurping up her tangy juices as best she can. The poor girl is delirious, overwhelmed by the taste and scent of Yujin's sex as she struggles to breathe.

All the while, her own stimulated cunt clenches greedily around your pistoning fingers. Youngeun's thighs shake with the strain of her denied orgasm, a pitiful whine escaping around Yujin's smothering thighs as her climax builds and builds and builds.

You can sense Yujin's impending orgasm from the way her thighs start trembling and her hips grind more aimlessly against Youngeun's mouth. With a smile, you match the frantic pace of your fingers pistoning in and out of the bound girl's pussy.

Youngeun is a drooling, whimpering mess between Yujin's smothering thighs. Her tongue works frantically over the older woman's swollen clit as she tries to suck in air through her clogged nostrils. All the while, her own slit is speared and stretched around your digits.

You time the stimulation perfectly, edging Youngeun closer and closer to that shattering peak of your woman’s ecstasy. Yujin's back arches, her nails digging into Youngeun's scalp as she grinds harder against the breathless girl’s face.

"F-Fuck...gonna fucking cum...!" she moans drunkenly. "Get ready for unnie's fucking cream you virgin slut!"

The words have barely left her lips when Yujin throws her head back with a shrill scream of delight. Her thighs clamp down tight around Youngeun's skull as she squirts thick ropes of girl-cum directly into the poor girl's mouth and nose.

At the exact same moment, you curl your fingers firmly against Youngeun's spongy g-spot, finally allowing her that elusive orgasm to crash over her. The bound girl convulses, her whole body going stiff as she unleashes a high-pitched muffled wail of pure ecstasy.

Her walls wring around your pumping fingers, drenching your hand with her gushing discharge. Youngeun's pupils disappear, drool and Yujin's tangy juices sputter from her overstuffed mouth as she squirts and squirts and squirts.

Even your throbbing cock twitches painfully in your boxers at the erotic exhibit. But you let the two women have their fun first, continuing to stroke Youngeun’s writhing body through the waves of her climaxes.

Youngeun lies in a twitching, panting heap between Yujin's thighs, her face and hair drenched in the older woman's fluid. She's still riding the aftershocks when Yujin's palm connects with her cheek.

*SMACK!*

"Say thank you to Daddy for letting you cum like the pathetic little slut you are." Yujin orders, giving Youngeun's hair a harsh yank.

The bound girl flinches, her mind slowly clearing from the haze of pleasure. For a brief moment, a flicker of defiance and shame flashes across her features. But Yujin's free hand cracks across her other cheek before she can protest.

*SMACK!*

"I said thank him, bitch!" she barks, grinding her spent pussy against Youngeun's face. "You're blindfolded and tied up, you really think you have a choice here?"

Youngeun whimpers softly, realizing the truth of Yujin's words. With her senses deprived and limbs restrained, she's utterly at your mercy. A shudder rolls through her body as you grope and massage her plump ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh.

Despite her humiliation, Youngeun can't deny how her body craves this depraved attention and abuse. Her throbbing cunt aches needily as you spread her cheeks, exposing her tight rear entrance to the cool air.

"Th...thank you...D-Daddy..." she finally stammers, defeat and arousal warring in her trembling voice. "Thank you for letting your...your slutty little girl c-cum..."

Yujin laughs cruelly at the broken whimper in Youngeun's words, rewarding her obedience by smearing her musky juices across the girl's face once more.

"That's a good girl," she coos mockingly. "Such a well-trained little cock-sleeve for Daddy to use.”

Youngeun flinches as Yujin abruptly rises from the bed, her weight shifting off the mattress. The bound girl is left trembling and disoriented, Yujin's essence still coating her face and dripping from her hair.

"W-Wait...unnie? Where are you going?" she calls out meekly, panic creeping into her voice as footsteps retreat across the room. "What are you going to do to me?"

Yujin's mocking laughter fills the air as she moves out of sight. "Don't you worry, baby girl. Daddy's going to take good care of you while I get things ready for our next… session.” 

With those ominous words, you take the opportunity to finally shed your boxers, your thick, aching cock springing free. You give it a few firm strokes, groaning at the delicious friction against your wet palm.

"You hear that, princess?" Your voice is thick with lust as you crawl over Youngeun's trembling form. "Daddy's going to take such good care of you and your tight holes."

Youngeun whimpers softly as you settle between her splayed thighs, your engorged cockhead nudging insistently against her puffy, cream-soaked folds. 

"P-Please...no more..." she stammers weakly, even as her hips give an involuntary buck towards your leaking tip. "I...I can't..."

"Shhh, just relax for Daddy," you coo, trailing rough kisses along the slender pit of her spines. "This sweet, virgin pussy is going to take Daddy's big cock so fucking well."

You punctuate the words by grinding the broad head of your dick through Youngeun's slick lips, letting her feel the blunt pressure against her tender opening. The poor girl's breath hitches, her bound arms straining against the ropes.

"Th-That thing won't fit..." she gasps, even as her thighs instinctively part wider. "It's too big, D-Daddy...you'll ruin me!"

"That's the idea, baby girl," you rasp, your hips already beginning to rock in a slow, teasing grind. "Daddy's going to absolutely destroy this pathetic cunt with his cock.”

You waste no more time with teasing or foreplay, yanking her hips back until her plump ass is raised high in the air, presenting her dripping cunt and puckered rear entrance to your hungry gaze.

"That's a good girl," you say approvingly, giving her jiggling cheeks a harsh slap that leaves a bright red handprint. "Get that slutty pussy nice and high for this cock.”

Youngeun groans and squirms, but obediently arches her back further. She cries out sharply as you immediately guide your thick cockhead to her tight, virgin entrance and drive your hips forward in one motion.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!!! DADDYYYYY!!!" she shrieks, tears instantly springing to her eyes as her sensitive walls are brutally stretched and impaled on your invading length.

You groan at the exquisite tightness gripping your shaft, not giving Youngeun a moment to adjust before setting a fast momentum. Your hips pistoning back and forth, savagely spearing her pussy with your thick meat.

"Fuck yeah, take it deep, slut!" One hand fisting in Youngeun's hair while the other rains stinging slaps across her wobbling ass cheeks.

Youngeun is sobbing openly now, her whole body jolting with the force of your rough pounding. But her cries are a chaotic blend of pain and pleasure, back arched wantonly as she meets your thrusts with shameless enthusiasm.

"YES DADDY!!! OH GOD, YES!!!" she screams hazily, drool flying from her lips as you ravage her convulsing cunt. "FUCK YOUR LITTLE SLUT!!! RUIN ME WITH YOUR COCK, DADDYYYY!!!"

Deep down, Youngeun's twisted desires are finally being fulfilled as you claim her virginity in the most depraved, degrading way imaginable. The brutal stretch of your cock splitting her open, the harsh slaps reddening her tender flesh.

It's everything she's dreamed of and more. Youngeun is hysterical with pleasure, reduced to a drooling, cock-crazed wreck as you ruthlessly rail her towards another shattering climax.

You grip Youngeun's shoulders, using them as leverage to really drive your cock deeper into her plowed canal. The poor girl's back bends almost impossibly, her petite frame bent nearly in half as you impale her worming insides.

Youngeun can only respond with a garbled, drooling wail of ecstasy as you bottom out inside her, your thick cock stretching her velvet walls wide around the length. Her whole body jolts with the force of your pounding, her tits scraping against the mattress.

"AAAAAAHHHH!!! DADDY DADDY DADDY!!!" she screams, pussy squeezing and gushing cream around your pistoning cock. 

The lewd sounds of her sloppy, squelching inner walls fill the air, mixed with the harsh smacks of flesh-on-flesh and Youngeun's restless moans. You release one shoulder to tangle your fingers in her disheveled hair, using the new grip to yank her head back.

"Tell me how much you fucking love this slutty little cunt getting wrecked!" you twist, giving her hair another brutal tug. "Beg for Daddy's cum, you cock-whore!"

"I LOVE IT DADDY!! I LOVE YOUR COCK RUINING MY PUSSY!!!" Youngeun shrieks without hesitation, her shame completely abandoned in her euphoric lust.

Her whole body is trembling violently now, thighs quaking and stomach clenched as her orgasm rapidly builds. Drool and tears stream down her contorted features, but her eyes are rolled back in an expression of pure, rapturous bliss.

"PLEASE DADDY, PLEEEEASE!!!" she sobs, grinding her hips back to meet your all out thrusts. "PUMP THIS SLUTTY PUSSY FULL OF YOUR SEED!!! MAKE ME YOUR CUMDUMP, DADDYYYY!!!"

With a low growl, you let go of her hair and double your pace. Youngeun's entire body goes hard as her orgasm finally crests in. She throws her head back with a guttural, animalistic scream, her walls spasming and around your impaling cock.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! BREED ME DADDY!!! PUMP YOUR SEED DEEP IN MY WOMB!!!"

But her hole is so indecently stretched and overstimulated that the sheer force of her squirting actually forces your cock out of her it with a lewd 'pop'. Youngeun's cream gushes forth in a torrent, drenching your crotch and thighs as she wails through her explosive climax.

You click your tongue in frustration at being denied your own euphoria, giving her jiggling ass a series of harsh, stinging slaps that leave bright red handprints crisscrossing her butt cheeks.

"You greedy cunt!" fisting in her disheveled hair to yank her face up. "You really think I'd breed this whore-pussy without Yujin's permission?"

Youngeun moans pitifully, her whole body still twitching and shuddering through the aftershocks. You're just about to drag her down the bed and shove your aching cock into her gasping mouth when Yujin suddenly reappears from the bathroom.

"Well well, looks like our slut made quite a mess..." she snickers, eyeing the puddle of Youngeun's cum with disdain.

But your eyes are immediately drawn to the thick, girthy strap-on dildo jutting obscenely from Yujin's pelvis, and the sinister black plastic bag dangling from her other hand.

Yujin simply smirks as she advances on the helpless, trembling girl. Youngeun flinches violently as she hears the telltale crinkle of plastic and Yujin's footsteps drawing nearer. Her breathing grows rapid and shallow, chest heaving with panicked gasps, eyes blinded behind the thick blindfold.

The poor woman is utterly disoriented, senses deprived and body aching from the abuse you've already inflicted. She has no idea what fresh torments await her at Yujin's cruel hands.

"W-What… Unnie, what are you going to do to me?" she whimpers tremulously, flinching again as Yujin's fingers trail almost tenderly through her sweat-damp hair.

"Shhh, just relax baby girl," your girlfriend coos in a mockery of comfort. "Unnie's going to take such good care of you and all your greedy tight holes."

Before Youngeun can react, Yujin abruptly shoves the open end of the plastic bag over Youngeun’s face, cinching it tight around her slender throat. Youngeun's muffled scream of shock and panic is swallowed by the thin plastic as it seals around her head, instantly restricting her airflow.

"Just keep breathing nice and deep for unnie," Yujin murmurs, giving the makeshift mask a harsh twist to tighten it further. "We wouldn't want you passing out before the real fun starts."

Youngeun's chest heaves with desperate, gasping breaths as the plastic bag slowly suffocates her. Her bound arms thrash weakly, eyes wide with primal terror behind her blindfold. 

You chuckle at the pathetic show, giving her jiggling ass a firm smack that makes her jolt. "Don't worry princess, Daddy's going to make sure you stay nice and conscious." 

Gripping her hips tightly, you drag the tip of your aching cock through Youngeun's drenched, gaping folds with. The poor girl jolts again with a muffled wail as you start to slowly feed your thick length back into her pussy.

But Yujin doesn't give you a chance to fully sheath yourself back inside Youngeun and pulls you to the side a few steps, standing behind the bound girl's trembling kneeling form at the edge of the bed.

"Get that fat cock up here, daddy," she says, licking her lips. "I want to taste that slut's flavor while I ruin her hole."

You quickly obey, shuffling onto the bed until your cock is level with Yujin's cute flushed face. Your girlfriend leans in without hesitation, dragging her tongue through the slick mixture of your pre-cum and Youngeun's cream coating your cock.

"Mmm...not bad," she purrs, wrapping her lips around your bulbous head to suckle noisily. "But I think it could use a bit more..."

Youngeun wriggles beneath you, muffled screams escaping the plastic bag as Yujin abruptly buries the massive strap-on dildo to the hilt inside her pussy with one rough thrust. The girth is even thicker than your cock, stretching the poor girl to the absolute limits.

Yujin gives her hips a sharp shove to bury the unyielding rod even deeper, her hips pistoning back and forth as she rails Youngeun's clenching pussy with the huge fake cock. Each savage thrust shakes the Youngeun’s body, her muffled wails rising in pitch as she's split open and ravaged.

You groan, grinding your hips to fuck Yujin's sucking mouth in time with her merciless thrusts into Youngeun's cunt. She gags and slurps, drinking down the fresh gushes of your pre-cum like a woman dying of thirst.

"Fuck yeah, get it nice and sloppy for me you, baby girl," tangling your fingers in Yujin's hair to hold her in place as you skull-fuck her wet hot mouth.

Between Yujin's vicious pounding and your own forceful face-fucking, Youngeun is left a breathless sobbing, writhing mess.

"I'm gonna fucking cum, baby girl," you warn, feeling that telltale tightening in your balls. 

Yujin immediately pulls back, letting your spit-slick cock slip from between her swollen lips with a pop. She opens her mouth wide in a lewd 'O', tongue lolling out as she stares up at you with glazed, teary eyes.

"Give it to me, Daddy," she rasps, voice already hoarse and ruined. "Fucking choke me on your cum!”

You tighten your grip in her messy hair, using the leverage to start jackhammering, your thick meat stick batters the back of Yujin's throat, her eyes rolling back as she gags and drools around your cock sliding directly inside her narrowed esophagus.

Beneath you, Youngeun writhes in desperation, her hushed screams growing weaker as the plastic bag slowly suffocates her. But Yujin is utterly focused on the cock ravaging her face, her own hips still pistoning the huge strap-on dildo in and out of the younger woman’s sore pussy.

Yujin's thighs are quivering, her whole body tensing as her own climax rapidly builds. She's forced to brace herself with her hands clenched around Youngeun's reddened ass, using the helpless girl's body for support as she feverishly fucks her own dripping cunt on the thick toy shaft.

Then, with a harsh grunt of bliss, your cock erupts in thick, heavy ropes of cum that coat Yujin's tongue and fill her gaping mouth. Her throat constricts as she swallows all your copious load in one gulp after another.

Yujin's own orgasm wrecks her in the same breath. She throws her head back with a gargled scream, you can see your cum gathered in her mouth, her whole body shuddering as she grinds the strap-on's base against her engorged clit. 

By the time your climaxes finally subside, Youngeun lies utterly still and unmoving beneath you both.

You step back from Youngeun, chest heaving as you watch Yujin slump bonelessly forward onto Youngeun's prone form. Your girlfriend is utterly spent, eyes glazed and hair disheveled. The thick strap-on dildo remains buried inside Youngeun's moist pussy. 

But the younger woman doesn't so much as twitch beneath Yujin's dead weight, her chest utterly still.

"Oh shit, I think we broke this slut," Yujin pants, a wicked grin curling her lips despite her words. She lazily rolls off Youngeun and tears the plastic bag from her face, tossing it carelessly aside. Youngeun's head lolls limply, her features slack and skin taking on an ashen pallor. "Fuck, don't you dare pass out on me, bitch." Yujin seizes a fistful of Youngeun's damped hair.

She gives the woman's head a yank, and after a tense few seconds, Youngeun finally gasps back to consciousness. A ragged, desperate cough wracks her petite frame as she struggles to suck in precious air.

But the blindfold remains firmly in place, leaving the poor woman blind and disoriented. She flinches violently at Yujin's cruel grip in her hair, whimpering as panic sets in once more.

"P-Please… Unnie, no more..." Youngeun’s voice is little more than a broken croak. "I c-can't… I'm gonna—”

"Shut the fuck up. Did I say you could pass out like a little bitch? This isn't nearly over for you yet, slut." She leans in close until her lips are nearly brushing Youngeun's ear, her tone dropping to a mocking croon. "After all, we still need to make sure that greedy cunt is properly bred by daddy."

While you wait for your spent cock to recover from its explosive release down Yujin's throat, the two of you turn your sadistic attentions back to the helpless, blindfolded form of Youngeun.

Poor Youngeun is still trembling and gasping weakly, her sweaty frame utterly wrecked from the abuse her holes have already endured. But you have no intention of showing her mercy, not until her mind is just as thoroughly broken as her pussy.

"Look at this pathetic whore," Yujin laughs, giving Youngeun's disheveled hair another harsh yank to bend her neck. "She's nothing but a set of fuckholes begging to be used over and over again."

To emphasize her cruel words, sadistic Yujin drives the sticky strap-on back dildo into Youngeun's cream-drenched pussy. The weak bound woman shrieks hoarsely, back bowing off the bed as she is impaled once more.

"AAAAAAHHH!!! NNNGHH...PLEASE STOP!!"

But Yujin just cackles derisively, settling into a rough, pounding rhythm that has the huge fake cock squelching indecently with each stroke. 

"You hear that, Daddy?" she pants, smirking over at you as you languidly stroke your steadily re-hardening length. "This dumb slut is actually trying to tell us 'no' like she has a choice.”

You move to straddle Youngeun's face, your thick cock hanging heavily above her drooling mouth. You seize her hair to yank her head back at a brutal angle, smearing your musky shaft across her abused features.

Youngeun whimpers piteously, hot tears leaking from beneath the blindfold to streak her flushed cheeks. But she offers no further protests, her swollen lips unconsciously parting wider to grant your heavy balls entry to her mouth.

"Mmmpphh...mmmhhh..." she moans defeatedly around the heavy weight on her tongue.

"That's right, baby girl," you croon with mocking tenderness. "Just accept your role as Daddy's personal little cock-sleeve. This is what you were made for.”

With Youngeun's mind already teetering on the edge, you and Yujin ramp up the depraved torments to utterly shatter what little defiance and self-respect she has left. 

While Yujin rails her overstimulated pussy with the massive strap-on, squelching and stretching her to the limits, you straddle Youngeun's blindfolded face and immediately start skull-fucking her.

"Open up wide for Daddy's cock,” you order, burying yourself to the base.

Youngeun gags violently as your thickness smashes the back of her throat, spit gushing from the corners of her stretched lips. But she instinctively obeys, fighting against her body's reflexes to keep her jaw laxed and pliant.

"Mmmmrrrghhh...hhhhkkkk..." she wheezes pathetically around your pistoning shaft.

Each jab has her jolting, muffled wails rising in pitch as she's mercilessly spitroasted between you and Yujin.

Youngeun can do nothing but lie there and take the vicious abuse, her pummeled holes and senses utterly overwhelmed. Her mind fractures further, each harsh slap and degrading slur stripping away the last vestiges of her identity.

By the time you finally reach your peak, burying yourself balls-deep and flooding her convulsing gullet with thick ropes of seed, Youngeun is nothing more than a drooling, cum-addled wreck, swallowing your heavy load on sheer instinct.

When you finally pull out, leaving the poor woman to lie there coughing and sputtering, her entire world has been reduced to serving as your personal cocksleeve and cumdump.

You and Yujin take a step back to admire the pathetic, drooling mess you've made of her housemate. The once defiant girl is utterly broken, blindfolded and bound, her feeble body twitching weakly from the abuse.

"Look at this dumb slut," Yujin gives the strap-on another harsh shove that makes Youngeun twitch with a gargled moan. "I think we finally knocked some obedience into that empty fuckhole between her ears."

As if to prove her words, Youngeun's swollen lips part in a tremulous whimper.

"Th...thank you...D-Daddy..." she slurs, her voice a wrecked croak. "Thank you for...for using me..."

You bark out a laugh, delivering a slap to her face that leaves a bright red handprint. "You hear that, you dumb cunt? You're thanking Daddy for treating you like the worthless set of holes "

Youngeun flinches, but her back arches as she nods her blindfolded face with desperate enthusiasm. "Y-Yes Daddy! Thank you...thank you for breaking me!" she sobs, drool and tears streaking her abused features. "I'm nothing but...but a warm sleeve for your cock! Please...please keep using me!"

"Well, since the little slut is asking so nicely," Yujin purrs, reaching down to grip Youngeun's jaw in bruising fingers. 

She wrenches the girl's mouth open wide, giving you an unobstructed view of her lolling tongue and the mixture of drool and cum coating her throat. Youngeun offers no resistance, merely whimpering pathetically as she's brutally handled.

"You hear that, Daddy?" Yujin taunts, jerking her hips to make the strap-on squelch lewdly. "I think this dumb whore needs you to really decorate her hungry cum-dump of an ass next.”

Grinning eagerly, you reposition yourself behind Youngeun's trembling form, eyeing her puckered, virgin asshole with hunger and she blubbers as she feels the thick head of your cock prodding insistently at her tight rear entrance.

"Please...not there Daddy..." she pleads, only to be silenced by a harsh slap across her already sore and swollen countenance.

"Did this dumb slut really think she had a choice?" Yujin scoffs, having taken your place straddling Youngeun's blindfolded face. "Open that worthless cock-pocket and thank Daddy properly."

Youngeun immediately complies, lips parting wide in a tremulous moan as Yujin's soaked strap-on smears through the mess of drool and seed still coating her cheeks.

"Th-Thank you, Daddy..." she answers obediently. "Thank you for...for ruining my asshole too..."

"That's a good girl," giving her hip a squeeze as you start to bear down. "Maybe once this tight little fuckhole is properly loosened up, we'll let you be Daddy's personal anal cumdump."

Hissing in thrill, you shove your cock forward and breach Youngeun's rubbery rear passage. Her stomach sinks in off the bed as she shrieks, her slender figure squirming violently from the sheer girth violating her most intimate tightest hole.

"AAAAAAHHHH!!! IT HURTS!!! DADDY IT HURTS SO MUCH!!!"

But you show no mercy, just holding her hips and steadily impaling her helpless tiny asshole inch by agonizing inch. Her tight anal walls cling to your invading cock, but you simply spit on her clenching rear entrance to ease the way.

You huff through clenched teeth, "This tight little fuckpipe is going to get ruined whether you like it or not— Oh fuck!"

By the time your pelvis is finally flush against her trembling cheeks, Youngeun is a sobbing, drooling mess once more. Yujin takes the opportunity to slap the girl's face again with a resounding crack.

"You hear that, cunt?" She smudges her strap-on through Youngeun's fresh tears. "Daddy's going to make sure this ass is every bit as gaped and sloppy as your worthless pussy! Now thank him properly!"

"TH-THANK YOU DADDY!!!" Youngeun cries, her whole body quaking. "THANK YOU FOR… FOR WRECKING MY SLUTTY LITTLE ASSHOLE— OUGHHH!”

With Youngeun's asshole is now thoroughly getting ruined and stretched, Yujin decides to take things to the next depraved level.

"Please hold this dumb slut up for me, daddy," she says sweetly, already positioning herself beneath Youngeun's limp form. "I want to make sure every last one of her greedy fuckholes is properly stuffed.”

You obey without stopping, gripping Youngeun's waists to lift her upper body off the bed. The helpless woman moans and twitches feebly as you manhandle her broken frame, your thick cock still impaling her bowel to the hilt.

Yujin wastes no time in guiding the bulbous head of her massive strap-on to Youngeun's gaping, sloppy pussy and she buries the unyielding fake cock inside her housemate’s empty cunt alongside your violent cock.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" Youngeun screeches, her entire body going stiff yet quaking from the overwhelming fullness.

Her wormy insides are molded horrendously around the dual intrusions plundering her most intimate canals. Yujin doesn't give her a chance to adjust, immediately setting a speed that has both thick shafts sloshing.

"Take it, you greedy fucktoy! This is what you wanted, right?!" She is gripping Youngeun's thighs hard enough to leave bruises. "Get that worthless pussy wrecked– Oh fuck! Just like your sloppy asshole"

You match your girlfriend's ruthless rhythm, hammering ahead to mercilessly spear and stab the poor girl between you. Youngeun's eyes roll back sightlessly, her jaw going slack as a torrent of drool cascades down her chin and onto Yujin’s shoulder.

Youngeun’s entire senses has been reduced to the overwhelming sensations of being double-penetrated and defiled with no mercy, her beaten holes pulsing wildly, her whole body shuddering through a seemingly endless chain of crashing orgasms.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" she babbles without control, limbs jerking and flopping with no coordination. "DADDY!!! UNNIE!!! CUMMING!!! ALWAYS CUMMING!!!"

By the time Yujin and you finally reach your own peaks, flooding her grippy clenching asshole with thick ropes of cum, Youngeun is nothing but a drooling, sweating wreck. She slumps atop Yujin, twitching and whimpering incoherently as her broken mind slips away.

You and Yujin spend the next few hours utterly lost in the sadistic pleasure of using Youngeun's obedient broken form however you please. She remains blindfolded and bound, her thrashed holes and feelings overwhelmed as you take turns violating her in every depraved way imaginable.

By the time you're finally sated, leaving Youngeun an unconscious cum-drenched mess on the ruined wet sheets, Yujin is already plotting how to best capitalize on your new personal cocksleeve.

The next day, she uploads the full, uncut footage of Youngeun's brutal deflowering and mind-shattering gangbang to your joint OnlyFans page. Within 24 hours, the video is your most viewed release yet, the comments section flooded with a mix of shock, revulsion, and insatiable hunger for more.

– Who the fuck is this girl??? Holy shit she's absolutely ruined!

– I need to know her name! I'd pay anything to wreck a slut like that myself.

– Please tell me you two sick fucks are going to keep using this cumdump as a regular guest???

– Who is this girl?? Need to know for research purposes!

– Can't wait to see her face next time. That ass and pussy are already so pretty.

Of course, the viewers have no idea that the blindfolded, covered-face woman has been thoroughly and irrevocably broken, her entire identity and sense of self now centered around being your personal, eager-to-please slut princess.

You smirk as you read through the flood of thirsty comments, already envisioning the wealth of depraved scenarios to put your new live-in cumdump through. After all, Yujin did promise the subscribers there would be plenty more "special guest" appearances from your fuckdoll.

#kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #kpop girls #non con smut #kpop fanfic #girl group smut #kep1er smut #choi yujin smut #dub con #commissioned work #youngeun smut

[wri0thesley]

yet again thinking about wriothesley but i'm thinking about old perv wriothesley duke of the fortress of meropide administrator in charge of your prison sentence and your punishments and all of the humiliating things he makes you do that no other inmates are subjected to. it's nice of him, you suppose, to have you as his personal assistant so you don't need to do heavy labour (he'd chuckled, quirked an eyebrow; 'and ruin those pretty hands?' he'd said. 'have you out there for anyone to take advantage of in a dark corner? and hurt yourself? no, sweetheart. you're better off here. it's a much better job for someone as . . . green as you are.')

but you don't know how you feel about the uniform you have to wear. he furrows his brow when you voice a quiet, squeaky complaint, and you're too scared to do it again so you wear the short tight skirt that emphasises the curve of your hip and the little pouch of your tummy, the blouse that's just too small to button over your chest without popping a few off, the stockings that dig into the pudge of your thighs, fiddle with the garters--

and you don't wear underwear, because three times a day wriothesley comes over to your desk and makes you climb onto your desk and spread your thighs for him for an 'inspection'. just to make sure you're taking care of yourself. just to make sure you're not letting anyone between your legs, to make sure that you're just as pretty as he remembers. thumbs spreading the lips of your labia wide, breath hot against your sensitive folds, mouth murmuring so close to your clit you can barely stand it, fingers prodding against your entrance with chuckles about how tight you are and how cute it is when you get wet for him like this and tremble and whine and sniffle--

yep. wriothesley pats your cunt as he stands up, the chains and rings sending a shock through your over-sensitive exposed folds. just a routine inspection, sweetheart, he tells you as he adjusts his trousers. no funny business. just doing his duty. just making sure you're being good.

#nat.txt #dub con for ts #non con for ts #abuse of power for ts #not sfw text #genshin impact posting #chubby reader posting #dark content for ts

[stfuattclagg]

New hockey romance coming to WATTPAD on June 30th

#hockey #hockey romance #bookish #bookworm #hockey romance books #his Goodpuck charm #Jules Rae books #books #ebooks #kindle books #Kindleunlimited #wattpad #bwwm romance #romance reads #spicy books #smutty book #smutty books #dub non con

[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December

Hello everyone! This December I’m hosting an event for the Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal fandom that I’m calling, Dead Dove December! From 12/01/2023 - 12/31/2023 I’m encouraging others to create something that expresses their deepest and (most importantly) darkest desires. I will be reblogging all pieces of art or fanfiction, and will post a masterlist in January. 

Details below the cut…

What is Dead Dove Do Not Eat?

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins in one of my comfort shows!

The phrase comes from a meme referencing the 2003 Arrested Development episode "Top Banana", in which Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org

In short, what you see in the tags is what you should expect to see in the fic. This can apply for any type of fic, including the fluffy ones, but it’s usually associated with darker themes. That being said, this is your warning that this is a DARK THEMED EVENT. If you aren’t comfortable with darker topics like non-con, excessive violence, blood/gore, death, toxic relationships, 18+ age gaps, and more, then I encourage you not to participate in this event.

How to Participate

For the month of December, post your Dead Dove fanfiction or fan art on your blog. Use the tag #deaddovedecemeber2023 and tag me. You can also send a link via ask or DM if you like! I will not be posting anything for you, just reblogging and linking. At the end of December I will post a masterlist with links to everyone’s works! Side Note - Since Tumblr doesn’t really allow for NSFW art, you can post your work on Twitter or any other site that allows it and just send me that link so I can add it to the masterlist.

Rules

You MUST be 18+ to participate. I will be checking your blog/social media to be sure. Please make sure your age is easy to find. If I find that you’re a minor or if your age isn’t readily present I will be blocking you and you will be unable to participate. You can just add that you are over 18 if you don’t want your age out on the internet. As the creator and promotor of this event, I need to know I’m not interacting with minors given the nature of this event.

The work MUST be dark in some way. There’s no limit to how dark your work needs to be or can be, but it needs to contain some sort of dark theme in order to qualify. If non con isn’t your thing, dub con via stockholm syndrome or brainwash can let you write a more comfortable scene while still remaining dark. Fics and art do not necessarily need to be NSFW.

Do NOT post anything before 12/01/2023. I will not count submissions prior to that date or after 12/31/2023. Masterlsit will be posted in January.

Your work MUST contain the proper tags. I won’t police how detailed your tags should be, but, for instance, if your work contains non-con, and you didn’t tag non-con then your work will not qualify. Please be inclusive in your writing where you can.

You may submit no more than two (2) pieces. This can include a fanfic and fanart, two fanfics or two fanarts. This is to allow someone to write a piece and make a work of art to accompany it.

I’m not going to yuck someone’s yum, but there are some things I’m just personally not comfortable with and since I’ll be reading/viewing all of these, I have a few things not allowed in the event. The list of what’s NOT allowed is shorter than the list of what IS allowed so here’s a list of the things that will NOT be tolerated in this event:

No underage/aged up minor content - To clarify, this includes things popular ships like - TLOU 1 or Show Ellie x Joel or Miguel O’Hara X Gwen Stacy. No "ageing up" minors for the purpose of a fic.

No Bestiality - To clarify, monsterfucking does NOT count as bestiality (at least to me). For example, werewolves, venom, Khonshu, e.t.c. are all allowed.

No incest - To clarify, step-sibling/step-parent relationships are permitted as long as everyone is 18+. Selfcest relationships are also allowed (like Moon Knight or Miguel with his alternate self, e.t.c.).

If you’re unsure if something is allowed or not, you can send me a DM or an ask for clarification prior to posting.

You can use any prompts you want or none, you aren’t tied to any one idea but here are some to get the ideas flowing if you need them!

Also, you can absolutely use a fic to inspire your art, or art to inspire a fic! Your inspiration piece, whether yours or someone else’s does not have to be from December, but you MUST obtain permission from the original creator before I promote your work. Most creators are happy when their work inspires others, and all my fics are open to being used for inspiration, but please reach out to the creator first.

I’m very excited! I’ve never done anything like this before so things may be updated as I go so bear with me! Looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!

Dividers and header made by the amazing @melodygatesauthor

Please consider reblogging to spread the word!

#dead dove do not eat #deaddovedecember2023 #dddne #dark #dark fanfiction #oscar isaac #pedro pascal #joel miller #moon knight #tlou #dark!joel #jake lockley #triple frontier #dark content #dark!fic #non con #dub con #yandere #dark jake lockley #dark marc specter #dark steven grant #dark santiago garcia #dark francisco morales #dark pero tovar #dark smut #dark duke leto #cw rape #tw noncon

[steve-faglan]

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

#tw non con #dub con #non con #fnaf dark fic #steve raglan #steve raglan smut #tw dark fic #william afton #william afton smut #fnaf movie #fnaf smut #dead dove do not eat #five nights at freddy's #matthew lillard smut #matthew lillard #slow burn #steve raglan non con #william afton non con #fnaf non con #non con smut

[diejager]

OMG your kast post about Step-Dad Konig and Horangi was INSANE and i was wondering if you could do one with the reader getting Pregnant because of this and like Konig and Horangi decide that it's time for her to be taken into a new life with them far from everything and just breed her over and over till she's broken by Stockholm syndrome

(Yes i have issues no worries ^^)

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, age gap, implied kidnapping, tell me if I missed any.

The time they spent fucking you, ploughing you open with heir cocks in every hole and stuffing you with so many loads of cum that you leaked for days. They made sure to plug you up after tampering with your method of birth control, taking away any safety measures you had put up against them and to protect yourself from their cruelty and control. You, however, hadn’t expected them to be so determined to sabotage your birth control and have you tied to your bed, fucked until all you could think about was the girth of their cocks and cry out their names, back arching and toes curling.

It started slow, like any regular day with either of them when your mom wasn’t home. In the morning, König had you, splayed over his desk, tits pushed against the cold surface with one thigh over the edge while he bent you in two, ramming into you with so much force that the whole table shook. He growled and groaned, hissing out promises that he intended to uphold on his part, staining the walls of your womb with his dirty and thick cum, leaking around the heaviness of his girth and sticking to his mahogany desk. It goes on like that for a few more rounds, usually three or four after a break, his refractory period wasn’t what it used to be in his earlier days —in the prime of his life.

Horangi would come by around noon, he’d find you seated on the couch, dozing away after König was done with you, slipping between your legs and spread you open with his tongue. He’s eat you out for hours if he had the time, tongue dipping into your hole and swirling around your twitching nub, drunk on your mewls and wails. He groaned into you when your nails dug into his scalp, pulling at his black locks, thighs closing around his head and walls clenching his fingers. After pushing you over the edge a few times, he drilled into you, pounding you into the couch, smearing tears and drool onto the softness, ass propped up to take his long cock into your sweet, slick and swollen cunt, filling you with cum. He chuckled and sneered at you for wasting his precious load when it oozed out of your overfilled cunt, dripping down your thighs and dropping heavily on the black couch. It would’ve stained if they weren’t careful about keeping their activities a secret from your mother.

In the afternoon, a few hours before your mom’s scheduled to come home, you’re pulled away from your work by your stepdad who called it a day, usually around 3pm. He trapped you in the kitchen, ravaging you on the counter, legs wrapped around his waist and his rough fingers wrapped around your neck, he rammed into you with such force that it punched the air out of your lung, leaving you gasping and incoherently moaning for him. He passed you to Horangi once he’s done, resting against the counter he just fucked you on to recover from his high. Horangi has you ride him, thighs burning from the strain and heat of grinding yourself against him and hips cramping from having to worked yourself up and down his hard cock, the leaky head of his shaft kissing your cervix while he devoured you, lips latched onto yours and drowning your cries with nipping teeth and an invading tongue.

It all lead to the day you found out you were with child, the tests in your hands a glaring evidence to their success and your mother’s reluctant acceptance —she was worried, scared and stuck in the blind to your situation and how it came to this. After the second month, there was a slight swell in your stomach, a soft bump with your growing child, Horangi pulled you to his car and drove to a clinic to have your child tested to see whether he or König was the father. Whatever the answer was, they had you move in next door, taking up the vacant side of Horangi’s bed. You protested about it, telling them how he had a guest room just across the hall, only to be shocked into silence when they showed you Horangi’s so-called guest room.

It was neither a guest room, nor an office, it was a nursery. The walls were painted in a neutral tone, a calming and comforting beige against white furniture, the soft, grey carpet and the few blue accents in the room. There were empty drawers and a box full of children’s toys shoved into a wall and it was left there until a baby grabbed at them, awaiting the chubby hands of their owner. It was already stocked full with the necessities of a baby, diapers, soft blankets, a security system of the whole room, a comfortable recliner and shelves full of small necessities to intertwine and care for a child.

Everything had been prepared in advance —premeditated. They’d planned it all from the start, their immediate obsession and need to touch you during the first week of him moving in then the intimate and feral interactions put upon you despite your reluctance. If you hadn’t been so dazed, mind blank of any thought, you would have heard them discuss your future. They wanted a little wife to breed and care for, the object of their obsession kept for their eyes alone in the kitchen and the bedroom. It scared you, your only solace was to hold the growing bump, wrapping your arms around yourself for protection from them and the house. You needed answers.

Your blood ran cold when you turned to look at your stepdad and his friend, their gleeful eyes, gleaming with excitement at the prospect of building a family —one to tie you down to them.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

#tw: stepcest #tw: noncon #tw: dub con #tw: non con #dark cod #tw: dark content #dark content #konig #konig x reader #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig x reader smut #konig smut #konig cod #cod konig #konig x reader smut #horangi #cod mw2 #horangi x reader #horangi mw2 #horangi smut #x reader #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #cod smut #Horangi x reader x konig

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

So consider this part 4.5? idk it's late.

Usual CW for this series with dubcon, mean Soap, post-trauma coping.

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #asset soap #asset john soap mactavish #dub con #non con #rape