#dubious consent tw

[scarafvcker]

synopsis: scaramouche always has a way of getting what he wants

cws: dubcon, coercion, “just the tip”, creampie, afab!reader

word count: 900+

scaramouche’s eyes couldn’t stay on one spot, flickering all over the place to take in as much of your form as possible. he wasn’t sure how the two of you had ended up like this but he sure as hell isn’t complaining, especially not after he’s spent years fantasizing about this very moment. all those nights of slipping a mirror through the tiny crack under your door, all those nights of resting his ear against the thin wall of your room, all those nights of waking up in a sweat drenched shirt and cum stained shorts.

it’s better than anything his twisted little mind could’ve thought up—you sound better than he imagined, you looked better than he imagined, you taste better than he imagined. and he’s certain you’ll feel better than he imagined as well. with the base of his cock rubbing against your slick folds, he can feel the way your puffy cunt keeps twitching and throbbing around nothing and he’s so tempted to just push it in. you wouldn’t mind, right? he’s already made you cum three times, surely you can let him have the same delicious release! doesn’t matter that you think he’s too thick, he deserves this.

he presses his pretty, pink tip into your hole, his greedy eyes locked onto the way it stretches open for him. “baby, even your pussy wants me to put it in,” he coos, looking back up to your face, “c’mon, please?” he can see the hesitation in your features as if you’re considering it but what’s there to consider? just let him fuck you already—it’ll feel good, he promises! he slides his tip upward, rubbing and tapping it against your swollen clit a few times before slowly tapping it up and down the entirety of your vulva and making sure to amplify the pressure just a tiny bit whenever his tip knocks against your opening. “just the tip? is that okay, baby? lemme just put the tip in.”

you give him a hesitant nod and he’s immediately tapping his tip against your hole again, eyes glued onto the thin strings of your slick that connects him to you. he feels like he’s drooling just as much as your pussy is as he watches your cunt suck him in a tiny bit only for him to pull right back out. the sounds of your wetness causes you to tighten up, forcing him to groan when your walls shut around the very tip of his cock, “f-fuck, baby.. ‘m sorry.”

you’re too fucked out to register his words, the feeling of your pussy being stretched out little by little as he slowly fucks more and more of his tip into you feels so good it numbs your mind. he looks down, admiring the way his tip is entirely hidden inside you for a moment before pulling out and slowly pushing back in, the action being repeated and forming a creamy ring around the area just under his tip. “baby..” he groans softly, looking back up at you to see your glazed-over eyes. you’re completely fucked out just from his tip alone and he can’t help his urges anymore.

with each draw of his hips as he pulls himself out from you, he slowly pushes himself in more and more. watching as more of his cock disappears into your cunt, the creamy ring from earlier slowly creeping down his shaft, his hands find purchase on your waist in a greedy attempt to slowly pull your hips closer to his until eventually your skin meets his own.

you’re only able to utter out a soft mewl, pressing your hands against his stomach in a poor attempt to push him away but he gently guides your hands above your head and holds you by your wrists. “shh, my love—don’t you like it? my cock feels just as good as your pussy,” he coos, an innocent look in his eyes. he deserves this, don’t you think?

too fucked out—your mind and judgment clouded by the pleasurable fullness his cock gives you—you let out one final whine and go slack under him, no longer struggling against him as he brings his hips back only to push back in. a breathy gasp leaves your mouth, a shaky groan leaving his as he pushes himself all the way in to kiss your cervix. leaning down, scaramouche takes your lips into a sloppy kiss as his hips start their own pace, his cock rapidly rubbing against your walls as he fucks you.

you cry into the kiss, the gasps and whines matching each of his thrusts as the pain slowly subsides into pleasure until eventually your mind buzzes with pure ecstasy. your vision blurs as scaramouche continues to fuck you brainless, his smirk going unnoticed by you as you lose your mind on his dick—the pleasure completely obliterating your judgement.

“fuck, your pussy is begging me to cum inside and who am i to deny?” he chuckles at the way you’re too fucked out to register his words, picking up his pace as you twitch and cream around his cock until he gives you one last thrust. his cock slams roughly into you and poking into the entrance of your womb as his cum spills and fills you deliciously yet you’re still too much of a mess to respond. he’s sure you won’t mind though—he does deserves this afterall.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin scara #genshin impact scara #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin impact wanderer #scara smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #dubcon tw #dubious consent tw

[yanderu-deredere]

chew.

★ you get really drunk but that's okay! despite these strangers being a bunch of guys you just randomly met, you trust them! they'd never do anything to you! at least, nothing you don't want!

a/n: was gunna work on the third part of the slasher yanderes but actually the werewolf yanderes did so well that i wrote this dirty rag i pass off as smut instead also lowkey one of my fav yandere blogs followed me becos of the werewolf fic sooo i have to write this LOL

important: for everyone that read the first part, i HEAVILY added some stuff so please re-read that before coming over here and reading this so it makes sense

also also this is the smut scene and theyre all men so please don't be gross in the notes or in my inbox about like butt stuff cus like they're men and they have butts idk what to tell you. one of the warnings is heavy ass play.

and please don't report my post becos that's literally so petty and rude and uncalled for, especially since it's properly tagged and censored (is that the right word? you know what i mean)

part one (bite.) ★ part two ★ (here) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ extras (taste) ★ part three ★ (swallow.) ★ part four (digest.)

pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 3589

general warning: reader is cheating, bottom reader has male parts and pronouns, reader is implied to be attracted to both genders, reader is definitely under the influence of alcohol, yanderes may be under the influence of the moon? real wildt, biphobia becos leonard assumed reader is straight, polyam ending (all three with reader)

sexual warnings: very dubious consent, descriptive ass play, leonard is a power bottom, one hard spank, reader is fucked and gets fucked, voyeurism because mel watches a little

You felt yourself start to get sleepy. It only made sense, after all. Your stomach was full, you had your fill of alcohol and, now, you had a great time with your new friends.

Before you could drift off, though, a scene in the movie the four of you decided on caught your eye.

It was some angsty romance about a girl who moved to a new town and was caught between choosing two werewolves or a vampire as a lover. You had heard of it but never really watched it.

You think it was because your girlfriend trashed it all the time?

Shows what she knew since you ended up really enjoying it. The cinematography was great, the actors and actresses were all great and the plot was typical for the genre but still interesting.

What you hadn't expected was that it just had full blown porn as one of the scenes.

You watched as one of the werewolves pushed the girl into the male locker room? Felt illegal but you stored that in the back of your mind. The other werewolf was already in there and caught her.

They sandwiched her in between the two of them and started making out, their hands hurriedly stripping her clothes as she watched them swap spit.

You couldn't help it. There was something about the, emmm, artistic filming of the two rugged men kissing that had your cock twitching in your pants.

With wide eyes, you continued to watch them strip her and start fucking her in the middle of the male locker rooms. Something about marking her as theirs or something? Making her their mate? Covering her in their scent?

This was so wild and what was even more wild was that your cock was steadily getting harder as you continued to observe them basically make a meal out of her body and impale her on their cocks.

You felt a breath against your ear "What, you like?"

You pretty much jumped in your seat, your hand clapping over your ear as you snapped to look at Leonard who smirked wolfishly at you, chuckling at your probably scared expression.

You just scoffed at him, pushing him away "I may have a girlfriend but I'm not blind."

My cock isn't either. You wanted to add. You'd never denied your attraction to men and women. Just because you were with a woman didn't stop you from ogling at men.

"Wait, really." Leonard was leaning against you again, trying to peer at your face to see if you were being serious "I thought you were just one of those poser straight guys that flirted platonically but would go 'Ohh, but like, I'm not gay or anything' and deny it."

You were really offended by his insinuation but decided to give him the benefit of your doubt "It's whatever. I'm attracted to both men and women."

You expected him to leave it at that but, suddenly, he smirked even more, looking quite pleased with himself "Oh, really?"

Then, he took you by the wrist and pressed it to his dick. You could feel it, even over his jogging pants, how hard and stiff and big it was.

He leaned forward, lips ghosting your ears "You know you made it like this."

"M-Me?" Your fingers twitched, unsure whether you wanted to pull your hand away or tease him through his clothes.

You felt his hips jolt up desperately to meet your palm and you looked down to see him tenting. Just seeing how hard he was and feeling it were two different things.

Seeing it and feeling it made it feel more real, made it feel like you should do something about it.

Distantly, you heard Mel say Leonard's name in a warning tone but you were simply too focused on the fact that you gave such a beautiful man like Leonard such an obvious hardon.

Then, Leonard was suddenly growling like an animal and pushing your hand away. You felt both relieved and disappointed, thinking that was that. Maybe Mel didn't want him doing anything?

You were dead wrong. Instead, Leonard was taking off his shirt and kicking off both his pants and his briefs.

"Gods, I've been waiting for your dumb fucking ass to make a move and fuck me all night." Leonard huffed, rolling his pretty blue eyes. "You're just as oblivious as you are gorgeous."

Another distant warning tone from Mel that you would've listened to but you just couldn't find any space in your brain to do anything but watch, mesmerized, as Leonard undressed.

You would take a few more moments to observe how handsome he looked without his glasses if it weren't for the fact that his cock, all pale and pink and girthy, curving up to his belly button, took all your attention.

"Hey, eyes up here, moron." Leonard tried again before kneeling in front of you and, finally, just taking your face into his hands and pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

It was absolutely filthy. His mouth was open, tongue practically fucking your mouth and coaxing your tongue to play, like he was trying to eat you alive or something.

It made you feel so light-headed, like you just couldn't think.

No thoughts passed through your head. You kissed him back. Your brain was empty. He pressed forward and your back bowed, trying to accommodate his body as you guys made out, chest to chest, his cock pressed against your clothed torso.

You could feel the wet spot on your shirt that his pre-cum made.

Then, just as suddenly as he started, Leonard was pulling away. Your eyes were unfocused for a second, like you didn't know where you were, like he sucked out your brain.

The first thing you noticed were how blue his eyes were, almost like they were the sky. They were so clear, so beautiful, just like the rest of him. Then, he was pulling away even more, taking the pillow on your lap with him.

You were still very drunk. Surprisingly, the kiss did nothing to sober you up. So, honestly, your broken train of thought didn't track that he would bend over for you.

In fact, part of you had thought (and slightly hoped) that he would've ripped your clothes off and bent you over.

Instead, he took your pillow and hugged it to his chest as he fisted his cock and bent to show you his cute round butt.

It was an ass you'd more than love to fuck, if you were being honest.

The biggest surprise wasn't his ass, however. A good looking guy like him? It was expected that his ass looked good too.

No, the biggest surprise was what was already in his ass. Nestled between his ass cheeks was a pink glass butt plug in the shape of a rose.

The rose was big enough that it pushed his ass cheeks apart and the glass was translucent enough so you could see the ring of his ass struggle to accommodate the rest of the plug.

You couldn't even imagine how he would've looked like, taking the butt plug in. Or how he would look when you slowly took it out of him.

But, then, you remembered.

You had a girlfriend that was waiting for you back at the bonfire. Or, maybe, not at the bonfire but definitely at home. Or, maybe, not at home because she never liked visiting you at your place but--

It didn't matter. All that mattered was, no matter how shitty she was, you had a girlfriend and fucking Leonard's adorable shapely ass was considered cheating.

"Fuck, c'mon, take it out and just stick your cock in." Leonard groaned, pushing his ass towards you even more. When he did, it made the plug in him stick out a little, pushing it out a little before sucking it back in.

You groaned too, palming your dick through your pants, unsure of what to do. Looking at him like that, watching him desperately holding the base of his dick, offering himself off like he was a man possessed, did something to you.

"I-I can't--" You tried to valiantly say no but he whimpered, all helplessly and soft, like he'd die if you didn't help him out, even just a little.

You sighed before deciding to acquiesce a little by grabbing the base of the toy and slowly pulling it out. You watched as his walls seemed to protest, trying to suck it back in, before finally letting go.

"Please, more." He moaned so prettily when it popped right out, all loud and high-pitched.

You turned to Mel, a look of desperation like he was the only one that could help you. Instead of help, you were met with the sight of Mel cradling Isamu in his lap.

Mel was still fully clothed but Isamu was completely naked from the waist down. Isamu's back was against Mel's chest, his cock in Mel's fist, completely hard, flushing dark brown-red at the tip and leaking so much pre-cum.

You hadn't even realised that the two of them had started getting it on behind you

Just watching them made you dizzy

You didn't think Mel was even paying attention to you for a second but, as soon as your eyes were on them, Mel's eyes snapped to you like he was hyper aware of you and you swore his eyes were glowing.

He was looking at you in a way that made you feel so small, that made you feel like a rabbit in front of a pack of wolves.

And he certainly looked wolfish, the way his sharp teeth marked Isamu's neck up, leaving bruises and bitemarks all over his tan skin, the way his eyes glared, all predator, none of that polite man that welcomed you in his home left.

You felt a shiver go down your spine.

You wanted to run away but you felt rooted in place.

You saw Mel's mouth move but whether he was mouthing something to Isamu or just mouthing at his neck, you couldn't tell. All you could hear was your heart beating in your ears.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Isamu's hips jerk hard into Mel's fist but Mel's fist was absolutely immovable. HIs entire demeanor seemed unwavering, like a steadfast predator who'd chase you down to the ends of the Earth.

The entire thing both mortified you and absolutely turned you on and you didn't know why.

"Hey! What the fuck! Hello, someone's ass is right in front of you?" Leonard started whacking your thigh with his free hand, his ass wiggling around again as if that would entice you.

You were pulled away from your thoughts and you turned back to him, sigh leaving your lips again. You knew Mel would be no help and Isamu looked like his brain was leaking out of his cock.

"Okay, okay, compromise." Leonard looked at you over his shoulder, desperation clear on his face.

It made him look surprisingly pathetic but also incredibly cute, especially with that adorable red flush to his face and the way he was staring at you with puppy eyes.

"Just the tip. The tip is all I need. Just an inch and I'll jerk myself off." He tried convincing you and, though you knew cheating was cheating, you couldn't help but feel just a bit sorry for him.

At least, it made sense in your absolutely alcohol drunk head.

"Fine." You stood, taking everything from the waist down off and piling it on top of Leonard's things. "Goddamnit, fine."

Leonard practically squealed "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

You nodded, positioning yourself behind him. He whimpered almost excitedly, shifting a little to position himself better. You spread his ass cheeks with your thumbs, testing his ass to see if the two of you needed any lube.

Surprisingly, he'd used so much silicone lube with the butt plug that some of it was still dribbling out.

You moved the head of your cock to press against his ass, pushing it in just a little. And, oh god, did it feel good. Leonard definitely already prepped himself and he was sucking you in so good.

"Shit." You huffed out, eyes screwing shut as you gripped his ass tighter in your hands "Just the tip. Just the tip."

You heard him babble agreements but, honestly, the words you were saying were mostly for yourself.

"Gunna jerk myself off. Gunna cum while I squeeze the tip of your fucking cock." Leonard moaned as he pushed himself back as much as you would allow him "Need you to jerk yourself off too. Need you to cum inside me. Please? Please?"

You nodded, unsure if he was looking at you because you still had your eyes shut. You were sure if you looked at him even a little bit, you'd bust a nut immediately.

You let go of one of his ass cheeks to grip the base of your cock, getting ready to either jerk yourself off or hold it to prevent yourself from coming.

Before you could do either, you felt someone slap your ass. The force of it pushed you forward and you were suddenly bent over Leonard, your cock much deeper into his ass than you were planning.

You moaned, both from the sting of pain on your ass and from Leonard's ass milking your cock. The only thing that prevented the whole thing from going in was your fist.

Hell, the only thing preventing you from cumming was your fist.

"What bad boys, leaving 'Samu out." Mel muttered behind you.

You didn't know what he looked like or what he was doing. You were too busy moaning, your hand on Leonard's ass gripping it like a lifeline, your forehead resting on the nape of his neck.

"Shit, shit, shit." Leonard so eloquently replied, his ass humping back against you "Move, you fuck head! Shit! Ohhh, your cock feels sooo good, baby."

You moaned again, unable to take Leonard's dirty talking in conjunction with his ass just strangling your dick as you tried to stay as still as possible.

As a way to placate him, you shifted your head, your lips brushing against his neck before your teeth nipped at his skin and started leaving hickeys.

"Oooh, fuck, baby." You heard a squirt before, suddenly, Leonard's hand sounded like it was jerking his own cock off with lube.

Was that Leonard's hand? Where'd he get lube?

The thought had barely entered your mind before there was another squirt and then you felt the cold chill of lube between your own ass cheeks.

Wait--

You looked over your shoulder to see Mel, looking down at you with that same piercing gaze in his eyes. This time, his mouth was stretched into a predatory grin, teeth too sharp and mouth too wide.

"Ya' know, 'Samu was feeling lonely." He told you matter-of-factly like that meant something but it wasn't Isamu that was pulling your ass cheeks apart.

Your eyes flickered around and, quickly, you spotted Isamu right beside Mel, cock in his hand, a dark flush on his entire face as he watched you and Leonard, mesmerised by the entire scene.

Before you could ask if you did anything to offend him, you felt one of Mel's thumbs start prodding at your ass and you groaned, your back bowing, your chest pressing against Leonard's chest and your hips pushing forward to get away.

Of course, since your cock was inside Leonard, it meant you were pushing more of it into him. Not that he was complaining. He was just babbling out obscenities, happy to take your cock as he jerked himself off.

"Now, now." Mel licked his lips, pulling you just a tad closer (and making Leonard complain a little) before pushing more of his thumb in "We need to make sure you're properly prepped to take Isamu."

"W-Why?" You stuttered out, cheeks feeling hot at the thought of taking that monster cock in your ass.

That had to count as double penetration and double cheating, right?

"You don't want to help him out?" Mel frowned at you and the disappointment on his face (however fake a part of you said it was) made your heart ache.

So, of course, you nodded and Mel smiled again, all wolfish and mischievous, obviously pleased with your answer.

He slowly fed more of his thumb into your ass, stretching it a bit more and pushing at your walls. You just took it obediently, your hips stilled by his strong calloused hands.

Then, when he thought you had enough of his thumb, he slowly took it out before replacing it with his fingers. That was definitely much thicker.

He started with one, which was easy to take. But then two felt impossible, especially when he started scissoring them, pushing your walls apart and forcing your ass to take it without moving your hips.

You whimpered and whined the entire time.

You think maybe Leonard came sometime while you were getting fingered but also maybe not because he continued fucking his own fist and desperately trying to hump your dick.

You still kept your hand on the base of your cock, trying your hardest to save that last handful of inches as if it would make a difference.

"What a good boy." Mel pressed a kiss to your lower back as he fucked his fingers in and out of you, the squelch of it just as obscene as the way your ass clenched and unclenched around his fingers

Then, finally, he pulled them out and didn't thrust them back in "I think you're ready for 'Samu's cock, don't you?"

You shook your head but you were too overwhelmed to really say anything else. The words just wouldn't come to your head. It seemed they just ignored your silent protest because Mel and Isamu switched spots swiftly.

Isamu put the blunt head of his dick to your ass and, before you could say anything, he was pushing in. And, god, he was absolutely hefty. Your hips were already trying their hardest to push forward, to get away, to do something against the stretch of it all.

"It's okay, you can do it, darling." Mel comforted you, his sticky hand rubbing up and down your back.

Isamu didn't seem to pay you any mind, absolutely enamoured by how your ass felt around him. He just kept going, pushing more and more in.

Probably the only thing stopping him from just pushing it all in one thrust was Mel's other hand on his lower stomach, reminding him to go slow.

Finally, after what felt like forever, his hips met your ass and you didn't feel like your guts were going to come out of your mouth anymore.

You sighed, relieved, only to cry out when you felt him pulling out and it was like he was taking everything with him.

There was another squirt of lube and then the second push in was much smoother but it didn't make it feel any less like he was carving his way into your guts.

"Give him your hand, darling." Mel suddenly ordered you when Isamu's hips met your ass again.

You complied, letting go of Leonard's ass so you could reach behind you and offer it to Isamu.

Isamu took your wrist and gave the inside of it a kiss before biting down. You screamed, of course, but you didn't think he bit hard enough to draw blood.

"I-Isamu?" You whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him with tears prickling your eyes.

Isamu just pressed gentle kisses to his bitemark and apologised. That was when you realised that the embarrassed shy flushed look on his face was gone, replaced with an almost feral determined shine in his eyes.

You couldn't even question him. You couldn't even open your mouth before he was drawing his hips back and fucking you with abandon.

You leaned your forehead against the nape of Leonard's neck again, moans and whimpers and whines leaving your lips as you felt Isamu fuck you with abandon.

Your grip on your cock tightened even more as you felt that familiar coil of heat in your stomach.

Then, without you noticing, you felt someone's lips against your ear. Mel? You couldn't tell, your brain felt like it was melting

"Give me your other hand too, darling."

You obeyed without even thinking and, with one hard thrust from Isamu, you were fully sheathed in Leonard. Immediately, you came spilling into Leonard's ass and Leonard moaned like a porn star when he felt it.

"I-- Hah! Uwah, came! I came! Wait-- I-- Hah, wait-- I, hah--" You panted, huffing and moaning as your toes curled and your body bended, plastering itself against Leonard.

Instead of stopping, Isamu just pressed himself tighter against you until the three of you were as close to each other as could be, Isamu's hips still jack rabbiting into yours, his cock pistoning in and out of you, causing your hips to fuck your cock (which should've been softening but was surprisingly still hard) in and out of Leonard.

Mel smirked, your hand in his, watching the three of you, a satisfied expression on his face. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before wrapping your fingers around his cock.

Oh, how cute, you couldn't even wrap it entirely around. That was fine, he would come easily around your fingers. Just knowing it was you was enough to make him cum, after all.

Add the fact that now he knew you were theirs? Well, he'd cum in a couple pumps, no problem.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #oc x reader #male oc #male werewolf x reader #werewolf oc x reader #werewolf x reader #melchior #isamu #leonard #chaptered #alcohol tw #dubious consent tw #male darling

[pennedwithpassion]

Mimic $8

[4 pages, 1910 words; M/beast, 3rd person POV; monster-fucking; intoxication (magic), oral sex, non-con/dubious consent]

Wilhelm was trained for adventures such as these. Treasure hunting, bandit slaying, and high-priority rescues were all quests under the Success column of his career. 

It was those successes that fueled his confidence on a relatively simple pursuit: retrieve the treasure in the depths of the Danya Mi’Gerous Caves. 

In about a week’s time he would be back in the village a few gold pounds richer: how could he resist?

Yes, he heard of the creatures that dwell within the cavern and the souls they’ve claimed. But the warrior was familiar with hyperbole, and knew all the threatening tales of “champions never seen again” were mere ploys, deterrents, that only worked on the cowardly.

Wilhelm was well-versed in adventures such as these… Or so he thought.

Want to read more?

#Written with Lust #Buy from Me! #monster smut #monster fucker #rape tw #tw rape #dubious consent tw #dub con tw

[ifidiedinadream]

So I woke up not even 15 minutes ago and ny mind already chose to be brutal. It's kinda hc stuff including cnc and non-con rape elements so I wanna warn about that just incase. Obviously just delete this if this makes you uncomfortable.

This is quite long and turned into a writing with smut???? I don't even write? Anyways bare that in mind if this is terribly written 😂

I thought about dating Aleksi. You would be alone at home because Ale went to the studio to work on some songs with the band. You were tired so you were napping on the couch when he comes back, but he brought one of the guys with him for a visit. (I don't have anyone specific from the band in mind but maybe Olli or Joonas? could be anyone tbh)

They find you sleeping while laying on your stomach. You aren't wearing that much, just panties and an oversized t shirt. Your other leg is bent making your t shirt ride up to your middle and giving a great view of your ass. Your boyfriend Aleksi's thoughts are filled with flashbacks of the time you two discussed about wanting to try a threesome but you eventually chickened out cause you're a bit shy so the thought was a bit overwhelming to you that you would have to be so bare with someone else with you in the bedroom. Aleksi thought about how disappointed you were that you just can't let go of your shyness and small insecurities cause you expressed that you really wanted to try something with someone else in the mix. You have discussed cnc stuff before and acted on your fantasies before (You both get really turned on when he uses you when you're asleep. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of it but other times you don't notice anything till you wake up in the morning since you are an heavy sleeper.)

Now he's just thinking how this is the best opportunity for you to have what you want: sexual experience with a someone else other than you and a touch on what a threesome might be. Maybe you won't be so shy after it's already done once and you won't feel that reluctant to try a proper threesome later.

He explains and talks it over with (ok for the sake of me writing this, let's say it's:) Olli and after a bit of discussion and a couple questions from Olli, they move closer to your sleeping form. Aleksi comes up to where your face is turned to the side; facing the room. Meanwhile Olli takes a seat by your feet. Aleksi softly checks how deeply you're sleeping, caressing your face with the back of his fingers. He gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead and nods to Olli that he can proceed. Olli takes his pants off completely and gets on his knees, hovering over the back of your thighs careful not to wake you. He pulls his underwear down and works his cock for a couple of minutes to get himself completely hard, thinking about what he's gonna do to you next helps him. He swiftly pulls down your panties and doesn't waste time thumping his cock into you. He starts of slow, you aren't that wet that the slide would be easy. He pulls out halfway, spreads out your cheeks and spits to where you two are connected to give a bit of a lubricant.

He then picks up the pace and starts pounding into you properly, keeping a fast tempo. Aleksi is giving you kisses here and there and sometimes he takes a look at Olli. Olli is starting to sweat, his curly hair is sticking to his forehead and he's breathing out these shaky moans. Aleksi has to admit it's quite a sight and he has no shame admitting in his mind that his own body is starting to get worked up. Bold as Aleksi is, he mutters to Olli how he wouldn't mind being under him the next time and how Olli looks so hot using his girlfriend's body so shamelessly. Olli whines out, not really expecting the words coming out of Ale's mouth. If you agree to a threesome after this maybe you have to have a proper discussion the three of you of what you all would want out of said threesome.

Olli is starting to near his orgasm, his other hand is supporting himself over you but the other squeezes your hip. Suddenly Aleksi notices you stirring awake. He caresses your face, soothing you after you're awake and a bit startled seeing aleksi in front of you, who is fucking into you if he's there? You get anxious but Aleksi is already soothing and shushing you. He tells you to calm down, you're okay. He nods to Olli to continue after he calmed down his thrusting a bit when you woke up. Olli starts fucking into you again, harder than before since he's close to his edge.

Aleksi has got you to calm down, telling you how you're such a good girl letting Olli use you, describing how needy Olli looks. You aren't opposed to the situation anymore, starting to get a bit turned on even, listening to Olli's moans. Olli let's out couple of big breaths and moans out loud, pushing deep into you and stops his movements as his orgasm washes over him.

Aleksi praises you and gives you a long and passionate kiss. You were so good and brave. Olli pulls out of you and smooths back your hair, caressing it and asks you in a soft voice if you're alright. You turn your upper body the best you can and smile up to him and say better than alright, thanking him for checking in on you. Olli hesitates but leans down to give you a kiss on your cheek as a small token of his appreciation of you.

After awhile you're all sitting down and talking about when would be the best time to meet up for a threesome and what you all would want to happen. You feel happy that you aren't that nervous voicing your wants and needs out loud, you're also glad Olli isn't that intimidating to talk to, his soft smile encourages you.

Okay how did I write THAT I've seriously not written anything like this ever. I'm gonna just leave this here and retreat to the background to, idk bite my nails anxiously lol

don't be anxious!!!!! we love cnc around here!! this isn't much on the c side of cnc bc reader and ale haven't really talked about this possible scenario happening but tbh dubious consent fantasies somehow turn me on ever more than cnc, so by me you're perfectly fine

this is hot and i want it SO bad!!!!

#fantasies #cnc tw #consensual non consent tw #dubious consent tw #consensual somnophilia cw

[heirbane]

feel free to ignore if you’ve already talked about this before, but i was running prae recently and it got me curious about gaius’s feelings on livia / nero / rhitahtyn? or the xivth in general. :>

i have been roosting on this for. weeks? months? because i have Thoughts and not a lot of them are popular probably lol. long long post below. so!

Livia and Lucia lived with Gaius after they were orphaned. The wiki gives like one sentence to say they were separated, but there's no linked proof. For the purposes of my canon, Lucia and Livia are identical twins, and fell into Gaius' custody around the age of nine or ten. (Mayhaps they had intended to separate them, but doing so to people so obviously two halves of one soul, as twins are oft believed to be, was cruel.)

Livia and Lucia were Gaius' first children. He was 39 and had spent twenty five years in the military already, a feat both telling of his ability and his early enlistment. Those who made it to twenty summers in the military had their futures financially secured for them. Gaius would never want for anything, and he now felt that he could offer himself up as a mentor figure to those younger... because as a child who had raised himself and had grown up in the military, he believed that all children needed was a safe home, plentiful meals, and education. His coin could provide all of those things.

Gaius scarcely remembered being ten years old. Not from lack of trying but from purposeful forgetfulness, a merciful omission made by his subconscious to truly forget the half-dozen winters spent trying to relieve his mother of her grief and fending for himself. He thinks he remembers being lonely, and cold, and scared. That, he thinks, he can avoid with the twins, even while he's on a tour of duty. He is so resplendently well-off and respected that the girls could attend private lessons and be dressed in the warmest coats.

(Providing the essentials - even to a level bordering on excessive, or stifling - is not a love children need. His first daughters were no better off than he at ten: they may have been clothed, in classes, and being raised by one of the military's finest, but they were still cripplingly alone. It is a knife he had handed all of his children, something he doesn't feel the blade of for over a dozen years.)

Livia was desperately, horridly lonely. Even before the death of her parents, she did not receive the amount of attention and love that she felt she needed. Her parents attention had always been split between her and her sister, and - as is often the case in multiple child households - Lucia was often seen as the more proper daughter. Upon their demise, Livia was left with a flurry of emotions she had yet to truly acknowledge and decode as one would growing up. Without a proper parent to idealize and a healthy, consistent environment to grow up in, Livia gorged herself on any and all attention, no matter how uncouth or unhinged. All attention was good attention.

She idolized Gaius to a suffocating degree. After her parents died, it seemed as if he swooped in and brought them into gilded luxury: she had everything she could have ever desired... but somehow - ... she still felt empty. But she felt loved and seen whenever he was home. She didn't know what she wanted, nor did she have the maturity to know there was a what: she simply wanted whatever scraps of affection he would offer... and never quite grew out of that. Trauma and emotional neglect is a bear trap one does not get free from on their own. Unfortunately, Livia was very much alone.

Lucia fled Garlemald at sixteen. Both girls were enrolled in the military at fifteen - one more willing than the other. Livia made leaps and bounds in a short few years, clawing her way to fight at Gaius' side, where she believed she belonged. Lucia focused on espionage, and used her adopted father's name to her advantage... and fled. Livia never saw Lucia after that, and died not knowing if her sister had ever found what she had sought in the savage lands.

Rhitahtyn, by comparison, was decidedly more a younger brother than son. A half dozen years his junior, Rhitahtyn entered the military not long after Gaius turned twenty-four. Not long after, Rhitahtyn was assigned to Gaius' very first platoon of soldiers ... as those from conquered lands were oft used as a new General's testing group.

Rhitahtyn and other Roe folk often used their native tongue to chitchat when in the barracks or otherwise not under the direct eye of Garlemald... or when they believed their superior to be ignorant of the language. Gaius had been in the military over a decade by the time they crossed paths and had chosen to learn the basics of the tongues spoken by those under his command. Needless to say, Rhitahtyn had choice words for his leader. (Needless to say, Gaius had his own in return. The floors of the platoon's bedquarters would never be nearly as clean as the Roe had made them that night as punishment.)

Despite the bad foot they got off on, Gaius saw promise in the younger man. He remained level-headed no matter the confrontation, already had years of work behind him as a mercenary, and had a sharp wit to boot. As time went on, their footing became less uneven, and Gaius began to see him as a peer instead of a recruit. Time and time again, he chose Rhi to be at his side, much like Nero and Livia.

Rhi knew the rest of Gaius' children. He met all of the Au Ri from Terncliff: he knew the Garlean orphans the man sponsored care for. They all came to see the Roe in a similar light to Gaius, despite the wide age gap between himself and them: to his children, Rhi was but another sibling. (It was Alphonse, still losing baby teeth and learning how Garlean names worked, who stumbled over Rhitahtyn's name enough that 'Rhi' came to be. Only the children dubbed him so. It was not a name Gaius would ever admit to using.)

As it is in canon, Gaius would not have sent Rhi to Cape Westwind to die. He would not have left the grounds to Livia and others. He did not believe the Warrior of Light so strong as to put down two soldiers he had trained himself: he had more faith in their abilities - and in Garlemald - than he had fear of the Warrior.

(As not many survived Westwind or after, it took Gaius many, many years to learn how Rhitahtyn perished - a fact only the Warrior of Light carried with them. He knew he had perished: he knew he had fought until the end. But to know that his brother-in-arms had fully intended to go down in flames with the Warrior of Light - ... to say he has regrets is but a sliver of the truth.)

In a perfect world, Gaius may have set up Nero with one of his daughters. In a perfect world, Midas would not have perished, and they would have happily co-parented Cid. Both Cid and Nero were born when Gaius was in his early twenties, and he sees both men in a similar light, much to Nero's disgust. A little competition never hurt anyone, and each boy's promise seemed to ignite fire in the other.

Much akin to Livia and Lucia, Nero is ... definitely the black sheep. While close to the age of his adult children, the man froths at the mouth when such is spoken, forever rushing to be great in his own right. Nero's sights for the future - his future, specifically - is both endearing and infuriating to Gaius, who sees his soldiers as part of a larger whole.

Unfortunately, no matter how infuriating or offbeat he is, Nero is a genius... but would have still come up short, had Cid stayed in Garlemald. Gaius knows this. Nero knows this, and he will fight until he is near dead to get out of the shadow Cid left behind by simply existing.

(Nero does not know why the shadow remains. He does not know why Gaius is soft-hearted for Cid, or why his voice is so fond for Midas. His relationship with the scientist is a secret only two other people were privy to: Midas' wife, and Cid. By the time Gaius meets Nero, Midas' widow has long since disappeared from under Garlemald's eye... and Cid is presumed dead.)

Had Lucia not fled and had Livia been sound of mind, he does think they would have made a fine lineage, all things considered. However, Livia only had eyes for Gaius... and Nero only had eyes for Cid.

#age gaps tw #hm #mental illness tw #unhealthy relationships tw #how to tag. idk. d.addy i.ssues (tm) but not in a f un way #ⅩⅣ tertius oculus ( hcs. ) #dubious consent tw #PROBABLY. BECAUSE LIKE FRANKLY she definitely came onto him. he just wasn't interested #me squinting at some vague roman history lore: good enough #not me projecting my parental issues lmfao #idk i definitely resonate w/ l.ivia. or i did as a preteen/early teen. which is why i peg her as Unwell #bc she's exhibiting behavior at 26-ish as i was at 13-ish #trauma does that to a bitch. im sorry l.ivia. you're cringe but you're understandable #idk i have a lot to say about the objectification/adultification of pre/teen girls who - #- obviously act the way they act because they don't have a healthy environment to explore and untangle their emotions - #and don't have a safe spot or person to go 'i can't tell if i have a crush on this teacher or if he reminds me of my father' #because - especially if you're emotionally neglected - deciphering the love languages and the meaning of attention can be difficult #or i found it to be as a pre/teen :) the amount of teachers i pack bonded on bc i wanted to be loved so bad that i didn't care how that was #very cringe of me. very mentally unwell of me. but i was unwell. i was neglected. and so were l.ucia and l.ivia! so. confetti #war tw #death tw #fire tw

[nightmarecountry]

⚠️ // bite my muse ( can specify where )

:)

I thought you didn't like women, she says against his mouth when he kisses her, bullying her up against the bathroom wall until her back's against the tiles and he's pressed just about as close as he can get.

I don't. You don't count, he snarls. His mouth on hers, his voice coming from higher up, behind the glasses that keep getting skewed when their noses bump together. You barely count as human.

She bites him then, for the insult or for the lie, her blunt human teeth sinking into his lower lip, and it's only then that he finally shudders and presses his hips against her, his body reacting even if the rest of him recoils.

You smell like him. You taste like him.

So do you.

Alex--the Corinthian--whoever he is, grips her jaw in his hand to keep her still. Brushes his fingers just under her eye (focus on that, think about that and about him and not about her), ignoring how wet his face is. He can't tell if he's crying or just starving. It doesn't fucking matter, anyway.

I want something in return, he tells her, mouth at her throat, then lower, lower. He's biting more than kissing on the way down, sinking slowly to his knees on a filthy bathroom floor that will ruin the knees of his trousers. Once his mouth is occupied, his eyes speak for him. You let me into your dreams. I get your eyes.

#ic. #v: exile for a lesson #pohlepen #[ how the FUCK do i tag this. ] #spicy text for ts #unhealthy sexuality tw #dubious consent tw #[ kind of???????? mutually????? ] #[ because they're both VERY FUCKED UP about morpheus. ] #[ also sorry for the slight frankie godmoding i needed the dialogue i NEEDED it. ] #[ i don't know if there's a warning for 'gay man fucking a woman because she reminds him of his creator' ]

[grislyintentions]

Do you think there’s any possible way to bind an adepus to a human? Or like a special object or magic to make an adeptus do your bidding? An interesting concept no? If I could force Xiao to do anything it would be for him to rest lol

(also I hope you’re getting plenty of rest<3 always put your health first)

Prior to Xiao's liberation by Zhongli, he spent countless years being enslaved/in servitude towards a cruel god [loosely termed "Goddess of Dreams"] so if that is possible then I believe yes there may be a way to do so but I personally think that would be cruel to re-traumatise him by taking away his autonomy and freedom. Even if someone forcibly took over with his own good in mind, that can result in more harm. Someone like Zhongli could arguably make the other adepti listen to his commands - but note that he has never once forced them into such a position. They listen because they respect his leadership and all that he has done but just as likely they can choose not to.

[And thank you! I definitely will ^^ <3 you take care of yourself too!]

#enslavement cw #dubious consent tw #[also i think anemo elemental powers are highly tied to the concept of freedom (be it fervently wanting to free someone or seeking #freedom for themselves to grow ie: wanderer] #abuse tw #[twas a good question to expound upon! thank u for asking ^^]

[aparticularbandit]

The Thrall of Magic III - 1980′s

Chapter Summary: “Agnes.”

The spell again, pressing, pressing, pressing.

Wanda pleads, and Agatha doesn’t have the strength to resist any longer.

Agnes surges forward, Agnes captures Wanda’s lips with hers, and Wanda melts.

companion piece to Kisses Through The Decades

Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff Chapter Rating: M for dark themes. Fic Rating: M for dark themes and upcoming sexual content. TW: Mental coercion; dubious consent/non-con (no sex).

AO3

previous chapter / next chapter

Agatha rouses with the dawn.

Of course, it is impossible to see the sunlight filtering through windows in the dank dark of the basement, though the thick vines turned roots still stretching out into Westview, still absorbing the minutest of pulses from the Hex itself and transferring, channeling that magic into Agatha’s own. It doesn’t fuel her, unfortunately, but it does help maintain the spells she set throughout the house she currently calls her own, helps protect her mind by fortifying the barrier she holds – thick, but flexible – against the other witch’s unwitting attempts at intrusion.

    Are they unwitting?

Agatha stretches, her body – her back – sore from the cold hard basement floor set beneath her feather soft mattress, conjured in an errant moment of weakness without thought to how she would wake. She unclenches her arms from the even softer pillow she’s wrapped herself around, then stops, holds it closer, burying her head into the top of it with a deep sigh.  Instinctively, she reaches out, lets her mind brush against magic in the purest form it can, the same as a needing child curls into its mother’s breast, and imagines she can feel it warm as a person, brushing the back of its hand comfortingly along her cheek.  Then it presses a kiss to her forehead in as gentle a manner as it can – magic recognizes those who love it, even if it does not truly love them back, only plays pretend, just as Agatha pretends that it is touching her when certainly it is doing no such thing – and Agatha tears herself away from its addicting presence, draws herself up into a sitting position with the pillow dropped to the mattress next to her, and drags a hand through her frazzled hair, shifting it into something much more befitting this new decade, all frizz and crinkles and tight spirals pushed back with a headband made of much softer fabric than truly accurate for the time period.

This does not matter, so long as it looks the part.  It isn’t like Wanda will notice, unless she runs her fingers across it, and though Agatha still feels compelled to kiss the other woman, she doubts that this new, young mother will find much appeal in her.  At least, not until she needs a worthy distraction from the encroaching miseries of her current home life.  It isn’t as though Agatha doesn’t remember other women with a much heartier countenance than Wanda drowning under her allure in their weaker moments.  The only question is whether seduction tactics will help her learn what she wants to learn; if so, Agatha will use them, but in all honesty, they may just be….

Well.

She steps from her basement sanctuary, reaches one finger out to grip the threads of the spell Wanda has woven and slowly unravels and thinks to herself – If Wanda didn’t know about her twins, what else doesn’t she know?

The twins’ yowling stings the moment Agatha starts up the stairs out of her cellar, and while she notes Wanda’s palpable discomfort from here (hears it in the show’s broadcast, feels it propelling her forward as the script indicates she wants – needs – someone to help her who knows what they are doing), she hesitates.  The last time she’d entered the Maximoff residence, Wanda kissed her.

The last time she’d left the Maximoff residence, Agatha’d wanted to kiss her back.

Agatha shakes that off.  Just a remnant of Maximoff’s own magic trying to exert itself over Agatha’s will.  She doesn’t actually want to kiss Wanda again.  Certainly not.  What she wants is to figure out what, exactly, the young witch is doing.  How she did it.

So that she can replicate it.

~

Agatha Harkness is over three hundred years old.  You would expect that she has learned the fine art of multitasking – how to keep her mind fully focused on multiple things at the same time – and yet, she has not.  She cannot pay attention to the conversation she has set Wanda to having with her husband and pay full attention to the twins in front of her at the same time, and so she only catches hints of their discussion, angry and hushed, while she focuses more completely on the babies.  While Wanda is distracted, she sprays them with lavender – and when Wanda notices, she comes up with some sort of lie that Wanda will believe because it comes from a woman who should be entirely under her control – and then scans them as the drops of barely tinted purple land on them, sink into their skin, and disappear.  One of her brows raises, and she reaches out for the spirals of magic constructing the babies in front of her, now tainted with that same soft color.

Then, with the glimmer of a smile, Agatha stares down at the children, gives them each a wink (ignoring the pang in her heart as she focuses on them, on those cheerful faces that smile back up at her, mimic her – it isn’t fair), and then snaps one single thread in all of the strands Wanda has wrapped around her littlest finger.  She glances to Wanda as she moves; Wanda doesn’t even notice.

Good.

Then she turns away from them, drawing Wanda’s attention as well – liquor can be a good way to get children to sleep, and while most people in the modern era would consider that shameful, in a sitcom in the eighties?  It would be a joke if she ever needed to get that far.  In truth, it is a lie and always has been.  Agatha’s heart aches from looking at twin boys that aren’t her own and yet look so much like them; she needs them to hurry and grow up so they look more like themselves, and less like Nathaniel, less like Nicholas, less like—

Agatha toasts to the silence first, to the boys who grow just enough to clamber out of their cradles where she left them, to the one who meets her eyes with a returning wink before they age themselves older than her boys had ever been.  That’s easier.  It still burns the same as the liquor poured down her throat, but it’s easier.

It’s only as Wanda stands still, letting everything else move about her – like Vision, leaving for work – that Agatha considers something else might be wrong.  The kids distracted them from their fight over Agatha, which was well enough, and Vision’s gaze drifts from his wife to Agatha as she hustles the children outside to play.  “I’ll take care of her, old chum,” she says with a bright smile, suspecting that Wanda can’t hear a thing she’s saying, frozen in the overwhelming draw of everything she’s doing.  Even when Agatha stands pointblank in front of her, one hand lifted to her forehead in the way a mother might to check their child’s temperature – checking not temperature but general mental state with a quick gesture of a spell.  “Hey, hot stuff.  What’s going on in that naughty little head of yours?”

Wanda’s mind is a computer running too many programs at once, glitching and freezing just before a meltdown, eyes glazed over, pupils shifting this way and that in a scarlet haze.

“You need to rest, my dear,” Agatha mumbles under her breath.  She settles her fingers into more threads of the magic cast about the Hex, and while she cannot change the spell in its entirety, she can rearrange things.  She takes strings and binds them together into thick cords, braids those cords together into ropes – snaps a few strings that are unneeded – compiling and scanning and, finally, with a little huff of a breath – steps back.

Give her a moment.  She’ll come back on line.

It’s as Agatha lifts her fake Jazzercise bag back to her shoulder that Wanda speaks – “Where’d everyone go  Wait. Where are you going?” – as though nothing had changed at all.

There’s no way of knowing what Wanda thinks just happened because the show feed shows absolutely nothing.  If anything, Agatha expects this moment to be filler; when she’s back in her stolen house, she can tug on the threads of magic to scan through the hacked feed, assuming these scenes are archived somewhere she can access.  (Wanda is not subtle; Agatha will find whatever she needs.)

Agatha prattles easy – Jazzercise, take advantage of your free time – and throws in a flirtatious pet name just to sweeten things, just because she knows – no matter how much Wanda might deny it (consciously or otherwise) – that she likes it.

Then the full force of Wanda’s desperate need sinks its claws into her.

Agatha barely has time to reinforce the spells protecting her mind before the other witch’s lips find her own.  She scrambles to resist the magic forced onto her, the script rewriting that Wanda directs into her mind as they kiss, but even with the wards to protect her mind, to keep her safe, to keep her separate, that desire – loud as anything – presses her forward.  Not that…not that she doesn’t like kissing Wanda; she does, although she can’t tell if that’s because she really does like kissing the younger witch or if that’s just her living script, just the magic Wanda instinctively casts on her to do her bidding regardless of whether that’s what Agatha wants or not.

It takes an eternity – a few seconds, in reality, but an eternity in practice – before Agatha forces herself to break away.  She raises her brows, meets Wanda’s eyes, searches them for any telltale signs of scarlet deep within them but finds nothing.  “It’s the hormones, isn’t it?” she asks, voice wary and uncertain as she reaches out to tug on lines of magic, to reinforce them again, to try and separate herself from who it is Wanda wants her to be, to try and tell the difference.  “When I was pregnant—”

But Wanda doesn’t give her enough time to even finish that sentence before she smothers her lips with her own once more.  She places a hand on the small of Agatha’s waist – where her hands have always been drawn to, where Agatha had encouraged them to touch – and tugs her forward before slipping beneath her skirt and cupping her ass.

Without thinking, Agatha kisses her back, pushes a hand through the other witch’s waves of hair, bites her lower lip until she hears the slightest note of encouragement—

Stop.  This is not what you—

Agatha breaks away, forces herself to take a deep breath, head pounding with too many things going on at once, with too much magic being forced on her, too much magic being used as a wall, heart beating like a train racing along tracks, like she’s standing right in front of it just about to be hit, and she says, near breathless, “Are you….”  She swallows, forces the words through, because maybe this will convince Wanda to actually think about what she is doing, realize that forcing this sort of thing is wrong.  “Are you sure this is what you want, hon?”  She searches Wanda’s eyes again, looking for the hint of something warm and compassionate beneath all those layers of need. “Because if Vis sees—”

“He won’t.”

She casts the spell with those words – Vis can’t come back, can’t see even if he wanted – and she breaks through the thickest of Agatha’s barriers in the same breath.

The script sets.

“He won’t,” Wanda repeats, meeting Agnes’s eyes, strengthening the spell with every syllable.  “Trust me.”

Agnes nods – Agatha yells within her, banging hands against a thin glass cage – but she’s Agnes, too; she’s both – and when she moves closer, brushing her nose against Wanda’s, gaze lowering to rest on her lips, her own desire rages strong within her, a desperate need nearly as loud as the other witch’s own. “This is what you want?” she struggles to say, trying to rein herself back in and failing.  “You won’t—”

“Agnes.”

The spell again, pressing, pressing, pressing.

Wanda pleads, and Agatha doesn’t have the strength to resist any longer.

Agnes surges forward, Agnes captures Wanda’s lips with hers, and Wanda melts.

~

I want you.

That singular thought throbs through Agatha’s mind.

No.  Not singular.

I want you.  You want me.  You want this.  I want you.

Magic, thrumming through her mind, under her skin, beating with her heart, flooding through her veins.  Fingertips skimming magic along her skin, cool as a fall breeze on a hot summer day, and she curves into it because she has always loved magic, always been in love with magic.

It betrays her now.

There are two minds in Agatha Harkness – the one succumbing to Wanda’s spell (intentional or not) and the one, much smaller, still trying desperately to resist.  She didn’t want this.  Doesn’t want this.  A part of her does – although whether that is wholly the new spell or some lingering after-effects of the last time Wanda cast her magic just for a tempting taste or something else entirely, Agatha cannot be sure – but even the part that she won’t deny does want Wanda doesn’t want it like this.

Doesn’t want it when she isn’t completely in control of herself, when magic rips tidal waves through her like waves of panicked dread again and again – doesn’t matter that it’s desire this time instead of panic, doesn’t matter that the sensation is oddly pleasurable – matters only that she is not choosing this in her right mind.

Some part of her, buried far, far in the back of her, screams and screams and screams, but even its resistance shrinks in the weight of the other witch’s magic casting touch.

I want you.

It isn’t that she wants to say no, it’s that she doesn’t want to say yes, but her lips are caught and torn and her body moves in ways that she wants but does not want, and everything feels wrong and everything feels right.

The Westview citizens, for all their lack of magic and protection, for all of their torture, are not laid bare like this.  Wanda didn’t fall for one of her puppets; she fell for the singular active human presence in the entire Hex and then forced her magic onto her as though she could make her a puppet, if she wanted.

It’s hard to resist – she tries – but her entire body thrums with—

I want you.

Except that she doesn’t.

Agatha might have wanted to kiss Wanda again, but she doesn’t want Wanda removing her clothes, she doesn’t want to be removing Wanda’s (not right now, anyway), and she doesn’t want to situate Wanda back against the couch just because her magic is forcing her to—

Wanda’s magic forces Agatha to want her, but Wanda doesn’t want her. She just wants.  Aimlessly. And Agatha – or Agnes, as far as Wanda is concerned – is simply the first person left alone with her long enough for her to do something about it. The first person she’s been left alone with that she wants to do something with.

It isn’t even about Agnes.

(At least, Wanda tells herself that.)

It is about being so horny Wanda would go to town on a hot dog if she’d been given the opportunity.

And here she has the opportunity with someone who hadn’t minded kissing her however many decade-days ago, and she is taking advantage.

Agatha doesn’t want to melt.  Agatha tries not to melt.  But Agnes melts, tugs not on Agatha’s memories or skill but on the script Wanda provides for her, on the skills that Wanda either expects Agnes to have or simply wants her to have because Wanda is a woman who, at least subconsciously, knows exactly what she wants someone to do to her and will easily and eagerly direct Agnes to doing it.

Wanda tastes good, but there’s no way of telling if Agatha actually thinks that or if Wanda expects Agnes to think that.

There are some thoughts where Agatha can’t tell if it’s her thought or Wanda thinking for her.

The vast majority of her does not care.

I WANT YOU.

“Enough.”

Agatha pauses.  She stills. Her eyes don’t feel quite focused, she doesn’t feel quite herself, like the stomach flu but not an entirely negative experience, like being sick, only not physically sick.  Some other kind of sick.  A soft, fuzzy disconnect.  She blinks twice, forces herself to stare into Wanda’s eyes, to search them for that glimmer of scarlet that says she’s casting some sort of spell.  Then she licks her lips, mouth suddenly dry, and says, “This is…what you want.”

For a moment, Wanda looks back at her.  She nods slow and leans up to capture Agatha’s lips with her own again; Agatha can’t stop the soft whine of pleasure when Wanda tugs on her bottom lip, and she wants to lean down to continue until Wanda says, clear, “I don’t know that it’s what you want.”

What does…what does she want?

Agatha’s brow furrows with confusion.  “I….”  She cups Wanda’s face, brushes her thumb along the younger witch’s sharp cheekbone, lets her nail catch on Wanda’s soft skin as a smile plays about her lips.  “I want what you want.”

I…want…you?

Fuzzy confusion.

I want you.

Enough.

Agnes follows the script, but the lines are slightly off.

Agatha regains herself.  When Wanda’s hand skims along her neck, when she kisses just next to her lips, Agatha shivers, but her body doesn’t quite respond.  As Wanda moves away from her, she tenses and untenses her fingers, tucks them around the strands of magic ever-present around her, and takes a deep, shuddering breath in, eyes pricking with tears.  When the waves come this time, it isn’t pleasure but panic, and despite what just happened, when she crumples, she does so against the witch who decided to change her mind.

“Is it me?” Agatha murmurs, asking it not of Wanda but of the magic she breathes in, the magic that surrounds her, the magic that even now curls comfortingly around her ankles, brushes against her wrists – only now it feels less like a familiar, purring kitten and more like shackles rubbing against her skin. “Did I do something wrong?”  She runs through her spells, runs through her studies, runs through centuries’ worth of searching out magic in a matter of seconds.  Her eyes scan the space in front of her – examining not Wanda, but magic itself. “Was I not good enough?”

Wanda tries to comfort her, but it doesn’t help.

Magic has betrayed her.

Magic has failed her.

And worst of all, Agatha still has that latent desire to kiss the other witch. To keep doing what they had been doing.  And that aching, lingering void hole of a feeling of being rejected and stopped by the person who literally started her in the first place.  It gnaws at her insides, and she hates it.

“Look at me,” Agatha forces herself to say, forces herself to chuckle as though this is a small thing when it isn’t, “crying like a virgin on her wedding night.  I’m no spring chicken—”  She cuts herself off, lets her words follow the script Wanda’s written out for her, while her mind directs itself to her own marriage, so many centuries ago, to the things she could do to Wanda if the witch hadn’t tried to exert magical control over her—

Raw.

Numb.

Some mix of the two – that’s all Agatha can feel as she strides around the room, finding her clothes where they’ve been discarded, dragging the striped dress back over her head, situating the band through her hair (and pinging herself with static when she does, all that tension threaded through her frizz), and slipping the bright blue shirt back on – the one that draws on the color of her eyes, although she sickens, thinking of that – before fiddling with the edges of it where it should just tie back into a normal knot.

It would be so easy to shut Wanda out.  To slam the door in her face.  But there’s—

If she had asked, would I have said no?

….

If she hadn’t cast the spell, would I have said no, or would I have—?

Agatha knows her answer, just like she knows that even now, if Wanda hadn’t—

“Would you tie this for me, hon?”

She says it so softly that Wanda probably wouldn’t hear it at all, if not for the spells she’s cast thrumming through and around everything, bringing every word, every movement directly to her attention, particularly if it goes counter to what she wants or expects.  For all that Agatha bends the script, she still follows what is expected of her.  She’s the nosy next door neighbor.  The kinky, weird best friend.  The second love interest, apparently, creating a love triangle that continues off-screen and without notice because these decades certainly aren’t going to broadcast a queer relationship when their main character already has a husband and children.

Ah.

Agatha catches magic’s joke then.

Homewrecker.  She’s the homewrecker.

When Wanda tightens the knot – when she pats it – when she blushes a bright, bright scarlet afterwards, Agatha finds fondness creeping alongside the futile void within her, a much more pleasant emotion than raw and numb. A corner of her lips lifts at the other witch’s awkwardness, and she runs a finger along Wanda’s jaw, tucks it beneath her chin, and lifts it gentle.  She searches Wanda’s deep green eyes for any suggestion of spells to be cast, and when she doesn’t find it, decides that, for once, she wants to kiss the witch because it’s what she wants, not because Wanda kisses her first.

Just as much a reminder to herself as a note to the other witch that maybe she doesn’t have to cast a spell on her to get what she wants.

Agatha kisses Wanda as herself, not as the script Wanda tries to force her into, but as an act of forgiveness, and when Wanda melts against her this time, when her hands reach out to just brush fingertips against the small of her waist before resting there, she feels….

Uncertain.

Wanda barely pulls away, nose still brushing against Agatha’s, eyes still drawn to her lips, and murmurs with lips so close they brush against Agatha’s when she speaks, “I thought we were stopping.”

“I’m stopping,” Agatha purrs before kissing her again, much more chastely this time.  She won’t lie to herself – she enjoys this.  When she has control, she enjoys this.

Whether that’s her own choice or more lingering effects from the spell, though—

Wanda rubs her finger in circles along Agatha’s waist.  “No,” she murmurs, looking down at her with large, green eyes, “you’re not.”  Her eyes spark scarlet, but nothing tugs on Agatha’s mind, nothing draws her lips against Wanda’s again.  At least, nothing that she can feel.

That’s more terrifying than when she could feel it.

Wanda Maximoff isn’t subtle, but that doesn’t mean she cannot learn subtlety, and Agatha cannot trust that the longing within her to curl the other witch’s curls around her finger, to make good on that taking advantage quip comes entirely from herself when Wanda’s eyes spark with magic.

The fingers of Agatha’s free hand curl into magic and cling to it, despite its earlier betrayal, because it is what she has done since she suckled at her mother’s breast, finding comfort in the very magic she breathes.  She clings to magic, and she steps away from the other caster. “I’m stopping.”

She says it, and she means it, and she does.

~

In the freedom of her own stolen house, Agatha steals shuddering breaths. She glares aimlessly at the walls, as if she could stare down magic itself, and says nothing to it, even as she continues to keep her fingers in its tapestry as a soothing form of self-comfort.  Then she stomps up to the second floor, thrusts open a door with a melted lock that she should not be able to open, and stares, still shuddering with determined fear, just stares down at a boy she’d intended to leave slumbering on while she dealt with the witch directly.

After today, Agatha doesn’t want to step into that house again, not if she will be alone with that witch while forced scripts continue to run, not if she can help it.

It will be much, much safer to send someone else in her stead.

Theoretically, anyway.

#bandit fic #kisses through the decades with wanda and agatha #the thrall of magic with agatha and wanda #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #agatha harkness #wanda maximoff x agatha harkness #agatha harkness x wanda maximoff #wagatha #wandagatha #harximoff #mcu #wandavision #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #tw noncon #noncon tw #dubcon tw #dubious consent tw

[thatgayunoriginalbastard]

Whumptober 2023 Day 10- "Can't you see that you're lost without me?"

Harsh Truth, Cold Love

AO3 Link

Word count: 2667

Summary: Alador could never get away from her. He could never really escape her. No matter what he did or how hard he tried. He would always be trapped with her. And she would always teach him just how bad of an idea it was to try and leave.

“Look who’s back, just as I said you’d be.”

Alador just stood by the front door, holes in his coat from the boiling rain. His face was streaked with tears, eyes red and dark as bags hung under them. In one arm he held Amity, so small and young, completely asleep. His other hand was being held tightly by Emira who was also holding onto Edric’s hand.

“Now why don't you come over here, my love?”

Silently, Alador handed Amity to Emira. Emira held her baby sister securely and nodded, going upstairs with her two siblings, leaving her parents in the entryway. When the kids were gone, Alador slowly walked towards his wife, embarrassed. He didn’t dare look Odalia in the eyes, even when he was close enough that she was able to reach out and cup his cheek in her hand. She scowled for a few moments when he flinched away from her touch, but went back to a calm expression quickly when she saw that he wasn’t resisting anything.

“That certainly was quite the show. The kids are unharmed, correct?”

Alador just nodded.

“Use your words, darling.” Odalia said, venom and masked impatience in her voice, “Our children are the future of the company. And it would be such a bad look on our parts if they got hurt. Especially if the reason they possibly got hurt slipped. Now, are they unharmed?”

“Yes. They aren’t hurt. Some damage to the clothing, but no burns.” Alador said, voice strained and raspy.

“There you go. Now was that so hard?” Odalia said, wrapping her arms around Alador’s neck, acting as if they were a perfectly normal couple.

“No. It wasn’t.”

“Now, it’s quite late, isn’t it? Let’s go to bed and we can talk about this little stunt in the morning.”

Odalia took Alador by the hand, her vice grip preventing him from trying to pull away, and led him over to the stairs. He trailed behind as much as he could, but she didn’t mind so long as he did as he was told. His enthusiasm was unimportant, so long as he was obedient it was enough.

“Now you can only believe my shock and horror at waking up to see not only you were gone, but the kids were gone too. And you all had even taken some of your things? Why I was worried you four had been kidnapped by some thieves who also robbed us and I would be getting a call asking for ransom. But no, just one of my friends telling me they saw you and the kids with suitcases going towards the vacation home of Head Witch Darius. Did he even know you were going to show up?”

“No. He didn’t.”

“And do you really think after what happened between the two of you back at Hexside he would help you?”

“No. He wouldn’t.”

“Well then why was his house the first place you thought of? Not your parents? Or any friends?”

“I don’t have any friends and my parents would just call you. His place felt like the safest option.”

“Ah yes, going to a coven head with stolen money and kidnapped children.”

“It’s both of our money and they’re both of our kids.” Alador said, with only the slightest sense of harshness in his voice so he could stay safe while also getting his feelings across.

“Oh honey, I think you’ve inhaled so many abomination fumes you’ve forgotten our contracts. We may share the company, but I own all the stock. As for the children, well, they are both of ours like you said. So wouldn’t you removing them from me without my consent be kidnapping?”

“They’re not the children, they’re our children.” Alador said, avoiding the question he couldn’t really answer.

“Oh please, you can’t be like that. You never even wanted children. I had to do most of the work. So don’t act like I’m the bad guy here when…what was it you said again? When I told you on our wedding night that I wanted kids?”

“That…that I thought the two of us should come first. And that having children right away could be bad for the business.” Alador sighed, the words having been ingrained in his head as he had relived that night so often.

“And what else?”

“That I would agree to have children so long as I wasn’t obligated to do anything more than expected.”

“And look at you now! Running off in the dead of night during a storm with them to your ex after what I can only imagine being some nonsense revelation or perceived slight. Ha! How times do change.”

The two of them reached the master bedroom door. Odalia opened the door and walked inside, but when Alador reached the doorframe, he froze. Odalia looked back at him, angry and confused, pulling on his arm to get him to come inside. But he couldn’t move.

“Alador? Come inside, darling.”

“N-no. I don’t think I will.” Alador said semi-nervously, finally looking his wife in the eyes.

“Honey, get in here now. Let’s go to bed.” Odalia said, teeth gritting together as she wore a forced smile.

“I think we should sleep in separate rooms. Things aren’t going well between us and it would be for the best of both of us if we had our own spaces to sleep.”

Odalia let go of his hand. She took a few steps towards him. He could see her adjusting her wedding ring. He took a few deep breaths and braced for the inevitable. He could stand his ground, just for the night, and deal with whatever consequences came from that.

“I will give you one more chance, Alador. Come. To. Bed.”

“No. I will sleep in one of the guest bedrooms tonight. Or on one of the couches. Or even in my workshop in the basement. Whatever you so choose, just not here.”

Alador took a deep breath in and closed his eyes, trying to not tense up. And when he exhaled, it was over. He opened his eyes and saw the fury in Odalia’s eyes. With a huff, she turned her wedding ring back so that the sharp metal and gemstone were at the top rather than down by her palm as it had been, turned upside down so that a slap wouldn’t carry a sting, but a slice. Alador didn’t even reach up to his cheek to try and wipe away the blood. He just wore a neutral expression and maintained eye contact as Odalia wiped off the metal and stone with her sleeve before dawning a much more sorry and sympathetic expression. She wrapped her arms around him again, pouting as she looked at him.

“Oh I’m so sorry, my love. You know I love you so much. And I don’t want to hurt you. You know that, right?”

“Of course.” Alador sighed with a neutral tone that had a hint of sadness.

He knew what she was doing to him. He knew that she always did that. He knew that none of it was real, that she didn’t love him or their kids. That all of it was just business and that his feelings would never be reciprocated.

And yet…he could never stand that look in her eyes. He always crumbled at that voice, that face, those words. He was lost without her, he could never leave her. No matter what.

Odalia pulled Alador’s head down and she kissed him. And he kissed back. She was full of passion and ambition and drive…but not love. But he didn’t sign up for love when he married her, no matter how much he tried to deny it. It was just a business arrangement, and nothing more. And he had to accept it.

So he did.

He didn’t put up a fight when she pulled him into their bedroom, only reaching back to close the door behind them. He didn’t say anything as she kissed his neck and unbuttoned his ruined coat. He did what she told him to do and never said a word. He let her do all the work and just laid there, doing everything he could to not cry. And when she was done and had cleaned up, he held her close, wrapping his arms around her and tucking his chin in the crook of her neck as they lay in bed and went to sleep.

The next morning when Alador woke up, Odalia was already awake and ready for the day. She noticed him sitting up in bed as she was just about to open the door.

“I’ve thought about what you said last night. And I suppose you have a bit of a point. I’ll have the abomination servants move your things to the spare room on the other side of the staircase today. You’ll have plenty of distance from me. I know the room isn’t big, but it’s what you deserve and you don’t have that many belongings anyways. I will require you some nights, but for the most part I will allow you to sleep in your own room.”

Alador was shocked, but mostly just filled with joy and gratitude that she actually listened to him and was going to give him that.

“As for the children, I have already spoken with the head of our legal team. I know you ran off because of that little suggestion about the kids being more involved in the company. I’ll have a contract drafted up and we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

Alador actually smiled at that. He got up from the bed and went over to her to thank her, but before he could even lean in to give her a kiss or reach out to hold her, she held up a hand and he stopped.

“I already have my makeup on and it took me ages. You aren’t messing it up. Thank you for the sentiment though, I’m glad you’re so thankful for my generosity.”

Odalia opened the door to leave, but paused as she looked him up and down.

“Now please get dressed. You already traumatized the kids enough last night. Oh, and use some healing patches for that cut on your face. We wouldn’t want there to be a scar, now would we?”

Odalia didn’t wait for a reply, because she already knew what it would be. She just smiled, blew him a kiss, and left to get some food and go to work. Alador just sighed and went to the closet. Sifting through all of Odalia’s things before spotting his own small stacks of clean clothes. As he got dressed, he noticed the small suitcase from last night, the expensive leather ruined from the boiling rain just as his coat was. One of the abomination servants had taken them when they returned, after all, so it made sense that it would have put his back where it belonged.

Moving almost robotically, Alador grabbed the suitcase, dumped out all the stuff inside, mostly just clothes and a few wads of money. He then grabbed his coat from the night before off the floor and put it inside. Then he grabbed the rest of his clothes from the floor and put them inside as well. He finished getting dressed then took the suitcase and left the room. He went to the Edric and Emira’s then Amity’s room, knocking on the door both times to see if they were inside and finding they weren’t, and took their suitcases and clothes from last night, emptied the stuff that they had packed, and put their clothes from last night inside. 

All the suitcases in his arms, each made of very expensive material and now holding equally expensive outfits, Alador went downstairs. He heard the door slam from Odalia leaving and saw Amity, Edric, and Emira all in the dining room with their breakfasts. Edric and Emira were sitting in their booster seats and teasing each other as they ate and Amity sat in her high chair as one of the abomination servants fed her. As he walked past the dining room, trying to not pay attention to the kids, he could feel the twin’s eyes laser focused on him as he carried their suitcases away. He could hear the scrape of chairs as the two of them followed him as he went into the parlor. He set the suitcases onto the ground as he knelt to ignite the fireplace.

“Dada, why are you turning on the fire?” Edric asked innocently.

“And why do you have our bags?” Emira demanded, “Wait…are you destroying our stuff!”

“I have one of my favorite stuffies in there!”

“Ed, Em, don’t worry.” Alador sighed, “I unpacked for you. Well, I dumped out what you put in these. For yourself and your sister.”

“Then what’re you doing?” Edric asked.

“Last night was a bad night, okay? And we’re just going to say it didn’t happen.” Alador said, staring at the fireplace, “So we’re getting rid of any proof that it did. All that's in these suitcases are your clothes from last night, nothing more. I don’t want to…I don’t want you to be reminded of what happened ever again.”

The fire ignited and Alador threw his suitcase atop the flames first, watching as the magical, purple fire consumed the wood and leather, easily eating through all the material. Then, he threw in the twin’s suitcases, and the exact same happened with theirs. As he held Amity’s little bag, he looked at the little paint handprints on the bag. 

What felt like such a long time ago, Amity had been getting her room painted because Odalia decided the color wasn’t smart enough. Amity managed to get her hands covered in paint, which of course led to her getting paint everywhere, including on her expensive, silk bag. Alador managed to convince Odalia to not throw the bag away and it quickly became Amity’s favorite bag. It’s why when Emira was grabbing stuff for Amity while Alador and Edric finished packing their things the night before, she picked that bag to put all of Amity’s stuff in.

And now the bag was not only stained with paint and sentiment, but awful, awful memories.

Alador threw the bag in the fire and just watched as it burned. All the memories, the good and the bad, burning away with it. 

There would be no sign of what happened, no sign at all. He could only hope that Amity was young enough that her developing brain wouldn’t remember it and that the twins would repress it as they grew up. And that he could somehow repress it too.

“Dada, why didn’t we stay with Dari?” Emira asked, hugging Alador’s arm, “We were so close.”

“Well I noticed that one of mommy’s friends saw us and that made me remember that Darius was really busy. He’s a coven head after all. Wouldn’t want to disturb him. Your dad had time to think and realized how silly he was being.”

“What happened to your face?” Edric asked, hugging Alador’s other arm.

“Oh, your dad just fell out of the bed last night. Got a really big scrape.” Alador said with a soft smile, “I’ll be fine, no need to worry. Now, you two go finish your breakfast. It’s a school day.”

“Okay!” The twins said chipperly, rushing back to the dining room, already joking with each other like they had been before as if nothing had happened.

Alador looked back at the fire and extinguished it. He then sighed, got up, and headed to the kitchen to grab something to eat before he went to his workshop.

He could keep up the act. He could pretend everything was fine. What other choice did he have? He had to protect the kids. He had to protect their kids.

He had to protect his kids.

And he could only do that if he stayed exactly where he was.

#whumptober2023 #no.10 #“can't you see that you're lost without me?” #the owl house #fic #domestic abuse tw #dubious consent tw #marital rape tw #alador blight #odalia blight #fuck odalia #pre canon #manipulation #dead dove do not eat

[larissel]

Fandom: Legend of Korra Ship: Kuvira/Asami Words: 2,123 Summary: Asami has questions to ask Kuvira. In the shower.

#kuvira #asami sato #kuvirasami #legend of korra #my writing #dubious consent tw

[yanderu-deredere]

omg im so into the werewolf yanderes loool im sorryyy they're all so fucken funny and cute! my fav so far is leonard! id let him boss me into fucking him literally any day of the week FOR SURE

a/n: YOU'RE TOO NICE LOL don't let leonard boss you around! if you give him an inch, he'll take the whole six inches! (get it LOL read the fic if you dont get it lmao)

warning: reader has male parts and pronouns, leonard doms from the bottom, reader gets ridden a little, dubious consent

leonard lowell ★ profile

"C'mon, put more effort into it, fuck." Leonard finally just pushes his ass into your hips, tired of you taking your time "Fuck me like you mean it!"

You just groaned, pressing your forehead into the middle of his back as you felt his walls strangle your cock "L-Leooo, you've literally sucked all the cum out of meee..."

Instead of accepting that as an answer, Leonard just shoved you away, screaming in frustration like you'd personally done something to offend him.

Which, to him, was a crime punishable by death.

You let yourself fall back into the bed, just relieved to be free of the overstimulation, your aching cock twitching in the cold breeze of the room.

Surprisingly, it was still half erect, valiantly trying to stay up.

Unfortunately, Leonard wasn't heading to the restroom like he usually would after fucking you into the ground (or, more accurately, forcing you to fuck him into the ground).

He was straddling you, his fingers grasping your throbbing cock.

"No, no, no, Leo, please." You tried to plead half-heartedly, your hips involuntarily jerking up as he pumped your dick once, twice before sinking onto your cock.

You both moaned at the same time; you a bit more pathetically than Leonard.

Then, his lips were on yours, tongue wet and kiss messy like always. That was who Leonard was; always taking, always fucking, pushing, never letting anyone's way go but his.

Regrettably, you wouldn't have it any other way.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #oc x reader #male oc #male werewolf x reader #werewolf oc x reader #werewolf x reader #drabbles #lemony content #dubious consent tw #leonard

[hawksights]

Berthold Hawkeye wanted a son, and this is something Riza was acutely aware of growing up. That's part of why she "consented" to the tattoo on her back. She badly wanted her father's love, and she knew alchemy was essentially the only way to get it. Unfortunately, "allowing" the tattoo didn't have the desired results.

#the hawk’s eye | headcanon #hc; clipped wings i was a broken thing | backstory #hc; you seem like the loyal type | relationships #abuse tw #child abuse tw #dubious consent tw

[ifidiedinadream]

Hi! I made a short fic that was rotting my brain, so here have it! Ik it's bad I'm not a writer lol also not proof read so if you see misspellings... no you don't <3

CW: voyeurism, illicit filming, sexual themes

~some snazzy title~

Aleksi knows what he's doing is wrong, both morally and legally but he can't stop himself. He started to film Olli and his partner as a joke when he heard them but now he's too invested and turned on by the scenery.

Through Aleksis phone camera is seen Olli taking his partner from behind, his hand in their hair, pulling. The other is firmly around their waist to steady his balance. His hips are moving fluidly into theirs. His s/o has their back arched so deep it looks almost painful but Aleksi knows it's because the pleasure. Their face is pointed upwards and painted with pure and blissful pleasure, mouth slightly open, eyes closed and brows furrowed. They're gripping on the sheets for, what it looks like, their dear life. They both are panting heavily and trying to keep their moans quiet, every once in awhile slipping breathy grunts out loud.

"Fuck I'm so close" they moan

"What do you need, bunny?" Olli pants back, not letting go of their hair or slowing down his movement

"Your... fingers" they whine

Olli finally lets go of the hair, inserting the hands two fingers in their mouth. They know to suck on them and does so for few seconds. Olli removes them from their mouth and bents forward, his other hand letting go of their hip and placed next to their head, he puts the fingers between his partners legs, rubbing where they need him the most. They let out a loud whine.

"Shhh, my love. We need to be quiet, remember?" Olli says lowly in their ear. The only thing they can answer him is in whines and whimpers. Olli keeps rubbing them off for little while before they start to repeat his name and their lower half start to shake, Olli grunts for the sensation and sound of this and follows not so far behind, letting his orgasm be heard and seen too.

As the two lovers lay there, finished, panting, Olli giving soft and loving kisses on his s/o upper back, Aleksi comes out of the trans and realising what he's doing. He quickly stops recording and hurries to his room.

For the next few weeks he finds himself jacking off to the video many times. He just can not bring himself to delete it and forget about it.

Olli is wondering what has gotten into him because he has been acting more or less oddly when he sees either of them or them together, either avoiding them or being flustered when getting caught staring at them.

- 🐇

okay first of all THANKS for sharing this with us i'm sure i'm not the only one who will ADORE

second of all there's something about morally dubious fantasies that HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH kill me!! psa to aleksi, babe you're welcome to film me anytime 👀😂😂 especially with olli 🥵

#answered #idk how to tag this #dubious consent tw #close enough #fantasies

[heyymikki]

What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve done to please people?

"Probably any number of things I did to please my former boss." She gets quiet, frowning at the thought of the man. "He wasn't a good guy and made me do a lot of things I wasn't comfortable with, but since he was my boss, I didn't have much say in the matter."

#Anonymous #game: honesty hour #dubious consent tw #sort of???? just in case idk

[themagickingdomrp]

Prince Henry  ▪ 30 ▪ Cis Male ▪ He/Him/His ▪ Kang Haneul ▪ Unaffiliated ▪ Taken 

Triggers: Death, Dubious Consent, Murder Mention

→ Past 

Prince Henry was born into one of the wealthier kingdoms. His childhood was a happy one, one befitting of a prince. When Henry’s mom died in a tragic accident, his father stopped being the smiling man he knew and the castle fell into mourning. Before Henry could fully recover, he was taken away from home for a year due to negotiations. He stayed at the neighboring kingdom and made a habit of wandering the kingdom’s village. There, he fell in love with a girl, a commoner. Unfortunately, she didn’t know he was a prince. He waited too long to confess and she married a king, freeing herself from poverty but also losing Henry. Heartbroken, Henry returned home. Upon returning, his father threw him a ball, claiming it was to honor the successful trip. It didn’t fool anyone. The ball was clearly an attempt to find a bride for Henry. He was against the idea, especially with his heartbreak so fresh, but agreed to it for his father’s happiness. There he found a mysterious woman and as soon as he touched her hand, he knew she was the one that could make him forget. He leaned in to kiss her, but as the clock struck midnight, she ran. She left nothing behind but a glass slipper. Henry had every eligible woman in the kingdom try on the shoe, in hopes of finding her. The Duke thankfully found Cinderella and the two were reunited. They were wed that same day. 

→ Present 

Henry knows the truth. He pretends he does not, but he long ago discovered that Grimhilde had taken over the form of his former wife. Henry wasn’t sure why the disguise didn’t work on him; maybe it was because he was in love with her and always had been. Maybe it was because her powers were weaker than they once were. All he truly knew was that she was supposed to be dead after the incident with Snow White, an incident the entire Magic Kingdom still talked about. Henry knew she would die if he were to out her; she had attempted to murder someone. So, he didn’t. He pretended to believe she was Cinderella, did not question where his real wife went. She was a kind soul, but it was never more than friendship between them, and he had the love of his life back. It was easier to ignore it all. He buried the guilt and turned a blind eye to whatever happened within all of Disney. He has the one that got away, he has a prospering kingdom; he has even celebrated the birth of his first child, a beautiful baby girl. He has everything he ever wanted. Why would he want to ruin that? 

#kang haneul #prince henry #prince charming #cinderella movie #disney rp #rpg #bio char #unaffiliated #death tw #dubious consent tw #murder mention tw #char

[formshaper]

i know he's absolutely manipulating her here and likely expected this but like... if i had a nickel for every time i picked up a muse and found out his consent has been dubious in more than one relationship or se.xual encounter, i would have... a lot of nickels.

there's another comic in which morphyboy agrees to a relationship with someone in exchange for their help in freeing him which. HM.

#( ooc. ) #liveblogging // #dubious consent tw #consent issues tw #[ dream [handshake emoji] kirk: using their sexuality like a weapon but not always having a choice in it ] #hc: dream