#tw: consensual non-con

[holylulusworld]

Best bridesmaid ever

Summary: You always dreamed of letting your dirtiest fantasies become reality. Your bridesmaid makes it happen.

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: consensual non-con/dub-con, 18+ only, fake attack, implied kidnapping, gangbang, multiple partners, taking turns, unprotected sex, smut, doggy style, pussy slapping, creampie, oral male rec, titty fuck, cum play, anal sex, voyeurism, mentions of sex tape, mentions of callboys/prostitution, masturbation, lies, dark!fic, plot twist, open ending

Words: 4,1 k

Please read the warnings before reading the story. The story contains triggering content.

The room is crowded with your best friends. Your bachelorette party is in full swing. Still, you’re not in a cheery mood. This should be one of your best days, but it isn’t.

You put on a fake smile and try to not ruin the night for your friends too.

“Naughty, naughty,” you giggle as you unpack your best friend’s gift. She gifted you a bunny vibrator. “I will marry to have a dick around, you know.”

“A boring dick fucking you all vanilla,” she winks at you. “This is for emergencies.”

You sigh, deeply. Penelope isn’t wrong. You can’t deny that you are bored most of the time you have sex with your fiancé. He doesn’t put much effort into satisfying your needs but is a nice guy.

“You need a good fuck before you marry that boring loser,” she smirks darkly, making the others chuckle. You roll your eyes at her comment. Yes, your fiancé is boring and all vanilla, but you love him.

“That is enough,” you get up and glare at Penelope. “I know you are jealous of my relationship but that’s no reason to talk like that about him. Especially not at my bachelorette party.”

“Bitch,” she gets up to push you toward the couch. “I should take my gift and leave.” You frown deeply. Pennie never talked like that to you before.

“Maybe it’s time to teach her some manners.” You gasp as five masked men storm into the living room. They get guns out and aim them at your friends. “Come over here, little bride.” One of them aims his gun at you. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

You whimper but slowly move toward the man. He smirks and grabs your arm to drag you out of the room. “Guys, we got the honey pot. Let’s start the party!”

More men stream into the room. They pounce on your friends, but four of them follow the one dragging you with him out of the room.

“Party time,” the man purrs in your ear. He tugs his gun away and rips your dress open. “Look at this, my friends.”

“Who are you?” You try to wiggle in his grip and slap against his shoulders. ”Get off me, bastard!”

You hear your friends; they scream and holler as the man guides you toward the bedroom at the house you rented for your bachelorette party.

“Oh, sunshine,” the man purrs and dips his head as you try to find a way to escape and save your friends. “We will get inside of you, all of us. You are fair game for our cocks.”

This must be a nightmare. The men slam the door shut, locking it as you tremble under their gazes.

“I want her cunt first,” the man throws your ruined dress over his shoulder. He smirks and cups his crotch when you try to cover yourself. “You can take the lingerie off on your own, or I’ll rip it down your ass.”

Your eyes round when the men unbuckle their belts in sync. You sniffle and shake your head.

“Last warning, sunshine,” the first guy taunts, and steps toward you to grasp for your bra and rip it open. “You’ll see, if you follow orders tonight, you’ll not get hurt. Now, panties off.”

You shake your head, and he sighs deeply.

“Fine, turn around then,” he grabs your neck, holding your throat in a tight grip. You slap him and try to scratch him, but you end up on the bed, face first. “Fuck me, that’s a naughty whore.”

The man grips your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a better look at your crotchless panties. “I guess she’ll get fucked with her panties on, guys.”

“Hurry the fuck up, Hansen,” one of the other guys finally speaks. “I got a raging hard-on and don’t want to go for the bridesmaids. I want to ruin the bride.”

“Please…don’t,” you choked out a whimper when Hansen moves his hands over your ass. His hand slip between your legs to part your pussy lips. He hums as your slick covers his fingers. “I’m going to marry.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Hansen slaps your pussy, once, twice, three times. “You will stay like this and wait for my cock to fill this needy hole. And after I’m done with your hole, my friends will have a go too.”

All you can do is bite the cushion and close your eyes. If this is a bad dream, you will wake soon and go back to your life.

“Shit, look at that perfect pussy,” one of the other men says. He slaps your ass, making it sting as it feels like it’s made of metal. “Thank me when I compliment you.”

“Barnes, relax,” a third guy grunts. “She will take your dick soon enough. I want to know if Hansen is all talk or if he can fuck like a stallion.”

“You hear the other three men step closer to the bed. They unzip their pants, and you sniffle again hearing the guy named Hansen unzip his pants too. His cock slaps against your pussy lips seconds later, making your body go stiff.

“Get away from me,” you scream and try to crawl away, but Hansen grabs your legs and drags you toward the edge of the bed. He grasps for your arms, holding them behind your back.

“Give me the handcuffs,” Hansen grunts. “I gotta tame that beast of a mare. She’ll feel me in her bones for days and maybe her ass too.”

He restraints your wrists behind your back, smirking as you sniffle silently.

“Relax that cunt,” he purrs and runs his erection up and down your slit. “It’s a nice little cunt, and I’d hate ruining it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you plea. “I’ll do anything you want to.”

He teases your entrance with the wide head, smirking as you try to wiggle away. Hansen slams home in one go, showing no mercy. You are soaked, and it helps to take his huge cock.

“Aw, there we go, sunshine. Can you feel your tight little cunt pulsing around my cock?” He grabs your restrained hands, and slowly starts rocking his hips.

The other men groan hearing tiny whimpers leave your lips. You hear one of them shuffle behind you. He steps next to Hansen to watch him ruin your cunt.

Hansen roughly fucks into you; he groans and drops his hands to slap your ass with both hands. His arms suddenly wrap around your body to bring you upright. He cups your tits, squeezing the plush flesh painfully hard.

You wiggle again and try to buck him off, but it’s no use. He ruts into you and taunts you with love confession. “I’m gonna marry this cunt, guys. It’s official, I’m in love.”

“Get off me,” you choke out a moan. He’s a bastard, but damn him, his cock hits that spot making you keen with deadly accuracy.

“No can do, sunshine,” he purrs and wraps one hand around your throat. You are helpless in his arms and can only watch one of the other men crawl onto the bed. He winks at you before kneeling on the bed to give your exposed cunt a few kitten licks.

“How does she taste, Rogers,” the man slapping your ass earlier asks. “I bet she tastes like a whore. Our whore.”

“Shut up, Barnes,” the man licking your cunt grunts. He kneels in front of you to grope your tit. “Yeah, I’m going to fuck you too, doll. Maybe missionary so you must watch me claim your body.”

“Mirror,” Hansen grunts. His thrusts become sloppy and you only hope he won’t cum inside of you. “Now!”

Two more men come into your vision. They rip the curtains hanging opposite the bed down, revealing an oversized wall mirror.

“Watch yourself get ruined, sunshine,” Hansen tightens his hold on your throat. He pushes into you, always hitting your G-spot now. You don’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

She looks like a whore getting railed by the masked man. Drool runs down your chin, and your eyes are glassy. “Fuck…no…nggh…” You try to hold the tidal wave back. The last thing you want is to gush all over the bastard’s cock.

“That’s you, sunshine,” he tilts your head to kiss you roughly. The mask scratches your face, but the worst is, that you tighten around his length, milking him dry. You sniffle, and whimper feeling his seed fill your abused cunt. “One done, Y/N. Four more to go. And after we all had our fill, we will start all over again.”

He laughs at your shocked face and pushes you off him. You land on the bed with a loud thud, fearing you won’t survive the night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” the man named Rogers grabs you by your neck and forces you to kneel on the bed. “I want to fuck those tits first.”

“Kneel on the ground for your new husband,” Hansen grabs your arm and pushes you to the ground. You struggle to kneel with your hands still bound behind your back. “Good little cockslut.”

“Perfect,” Rogers smirks as you try to slowly move away from him. “None of this now.” He walks around you to slap his hands between your legs. He scoops a large amount of Hansen’s cum, humming as you whimper at the slightest touch.

Rogers hurriedly faces you again to smear the cum all over your tits. He hums a melody while playing with your nipples. “Rogers loves a good titty fuck,” Hansen kneels behind you to slap your ass. “Be good, and he will shoot his load before your tits are sore.”

“I—” You shake your head but have no choice but to let the man named Rogers roughly grip your chin. He smears Hansen’s cum all over your lips before greedily kissing you.

“Let me fuck those tits, doll,” he purrs and pushes his cock between your tits. He cups your plush flesh, pressing them together as he starts rocking his hips. You drop your head and watch his cock moving between your tits. Your mouth opens and you lick over his tip when he moves closer to your face. “That’s it. Be good for me.”

“Fuck those tits faster, I want her to suck me off, or her ass,” another man grabs the back of your neck. “Lick his dick, now.”

“Shit, Fowler,” the man fucking your tits grunts. “Yes, that’s so much hotter.”

“Fowler is a kinky bastard,” the last man laughs. “Wait for my cock, sweetness, Levinson will split all of your holes and ruin you forever.”

“Shut up,” Barnes grunts. He gets his dick out to run his gloved hand up and down his length.

Rogers moves his hips faster. “I want to fuck her pussy now.”

Your eyes widen at Rogers’ words. Before you can react his cock slips out from between your tits, and you get thrown onto the bed. He immediately crawls between your legs, spreading you with his hips. “Yeah, that’s how you will watch me fuck you, doll.”

Rogers impales you with one forceful thrust. He ignores that you try to wiggle your hips or that you call him a bastard. He silences your protests with his lips, almost smothering you as he starts rocking his hips. “You’re ours from now on. Not a bride but our whore.”

His lips move down to your neck, and lower to your tits. He bites your nipple, forcing a scream to tear from your throat. Rogers is a cruel lover. He bites and nips at your plush flesh, leaving marks as he fucks you deep and hard.

He speeds up with every squeak leaving your lips. Your eyes roll back as he suddenly grabs your hips to slightly lift your hips. Rogers holds you in a tight grip while violating your pulsing cunt.

“Shit, did you see that?” Barnes growls. “She gushed all over his cock like a whore.”

His load shoots into you right after you clenched around him like the whore they turned you into. “That’s it, doll. Now you know the drill.”

Rogers pulls out, leaving you tainted and panting for the next man to use you. “On your belly, ass up,” Fowler doesn’t give you the chance to take a breath. He flips you over, forces you on your hands and knees, and is on you before you can react.

Not that you’d be able to fight him.

“What do you say, Barnes?” Fowler runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs. “Ass and mouth? Let’s fill her from both ends.”

You moan but bite your tongue. Fowler slaps your ass, grunts, and calls you a slut as you dared to make a noise.

“Shut up, you don’t have a say in this,” he mocks you. “This body is ours to use. Now talking back.”

He opens the handcuffs. Fowler takes his time, gently kneading the pain out of your skin. “Barnes?”

“Mouth,” Barnes grunts. “I hope she’s good at sucking dick. I dreamed of having her lips wrapped around my dick.”

“More ass for me,” Fowler laughs as you hold your breath. “Relax, sweetness. This ass will love my cock. It’s made to take it.”

You nod and tap the bed twice. Fowler immediately grabs you by your hips to press his crotch into your ass. He grinds into you while Barnes takes off his clothes.

Barnes lies on his side, lazily stroking his cock. He watches Fowler push your face into Barnes’ crotch, smirking as you eagerly rub your face into his pubic hair. “Good little whore,” he praises. “Now open up for Bucky.”

“Barnes!” Fowler hisses. “We said no first names!”

“Fuck you! I want her to suck my dick, not for you to complain again. Get your dick inside her ass and let me and my pretty doll have some fun!” Barnes gently pats your head, encouraging you to relax and open your mouth for him.

You move a little closer to Barnes and press your knees and the palms of your hands into the mattress.

Barnes watches the man behind you open a bottle of lube. He grunts as you shyly glance at his erection. “All for you, doll.” He lazily strokes his cock, waiting for Fowler to make his move. “I bet you will look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks at his praise. You dart your tongue out to lick over the wide heat. He shudders feeling your tongue touch his sensitive tip.

“Stop playing around,” Fowler pushes against your shoulders to press your face into Barnes’ crotch. “Swallow his cock while I shove mine into your tight little arsehole.”

“Hey, she was so good to me,” Barnes complains loudly. “Right doll. You wanted to suck me good.”

“She’ll be even better with my cock up her ass.” You hear a commotion in the room. The fifth man, Levinson barks orders at Hansen and Rogers. You blend his voice out and only listen to Fowler who lubes one finger to play with your tightest hole. “Such a nice little hole for me to use.”

You whimper and bite your lower lip. It’s a new sensation feeling Fowler’s finger push into your tightest hole. He groans behind you. “Did you ever take it up your ass?” He taunts while moving his finger in and out. “I bet you didn’t.”

“Who’s toying with her now,” Barnes snaps at Fowler. “She’s a big girl and can take it. Right, doll?” He purrs the pet name. “You want him to fuck this naughty hole.”

For a moment, the room was silent. All eyes are on you, and the men watch you slowly nod.

They don’t need to know that you’re about to fulfill your darkest desires. The ones no one else could fulfill.

“I knew she was going to take all of me,” Fowler slaps your ass. You squeak and lean over Barnes’ crotch to lick over the head. He holds his cock in a tight grip, offering it to you like a present. “Now, open up for Barnes while I stretch that hole.”

Barnes cups the back of your neck and holds his cock with his free hand. He guides you down his cock, slow but his hold on your neck is tight enough to tell you he won’t accept refusal.

“Slow, doll,” Barnes moves his hand to the back of your neck. He pats you and purrs your name. “I’ll help you do it right.” He pushes your head into his crotch, forcing you to swallow him whole.

“Yeah, he’s good at guidance,” you choke around Barnes's cock. He smirks as you struggle to breathe right. “I’m better, though.”

You let Barnes guide your head up and down his length, ignoring the other men growling your name, along with profanities. You’re too far gone. Body and soul tainted by the men using you for their pleasure, you’re ruined and know it.

Fowler grips your waistline, fingertips digging into your flesh. He lubes his cock, groaning as his eyes drop to your well-fucked cunt. Rogers and Hansen’s cum runs out of your abused hole. “What a good whore you are for all of us.”

“Fuck her already, I’m still waiting for my turn,” it’s Levinson who raises his voice. “If not, I’ll take over and rip that tight little hole open.”

“Get fucked,” Fowler loses his patience. He grips your ass to spread your ass cheeks. Fowler spits onto the crack of your ass, huffing as Levinson steps toward the bed to watch you suck Barnes’ dick. You bob your head, desperate to feel his cum on your tongue.

The pressure you feel the moment Fowler pushes his cock into your tightest hole is something you’ve never felt before. He slowly moves back and forth, still, it’s a wide and uncomfortable stretch. You hear him groan and feel his hands grip your hips to push all the way in.

“Shit, she’s stuffed to the brim,” Hansen comments. He watches Barnes and Fowler use you to their liking, griping his cock to jerk off. “I could go for another round when you are done, guys. Her ass looks inviting.”

“I bet,” Fowler pants as he gives you shallow thrusts, “she stretched that perfect hole with a plug. Right, babycakes. You knew I’m into fucking ass.”

You moan around Barnes’ cock, unable to answer Fowler’s question. You’re their sex toy to use, and nothing else. You can’t move your head, because Barnes guides you up and down his length while Fowler thrusts into your ass.

They work in unison as if they had done this a hundred times before. Their cocks fill your holes, pushing as deep as possible and you get lost in your darkest fantasy. You close your eyes and let yourself fall.

“She’s there, in her little headspace, fuck,” Rogers’ says. “Slow down, make her feel all of it.” He dips his head to watch Fowler stretch your arsehole. “Make her hole gape. I want to go for a ride later too.”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Levinson barks. He stares at your naked form trapped between the others. Levinson is ready to drag them off you to get his turn, but he will wait and have the grand finale. “It’s my turn first!”

You don’t have time to think about his cum on your tongue. Fowler pushes against your shoulders, holding you down to rut into you. His cock slams into your tight hole. You whimper and beg him to slow down, but he won’t. Fowler is determined to fill you up.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum,” you groan around Barnes. He cups the back of your neck again, holding you still when his cum shoots down your throat. “She’s perfect…” He slips out of your mouth, letting you breathe.

“Butterfly?” Levinson asks, and you shake your head. “You’re such a good girl. We never had someone taking it like you did.”

“Please.”

Fowler grabs your hips. He shoves himself as deep as possible inside your ass and stills his hips. He comes with a shout of your name and slaps your ass with both hands.

It’s over as fast as it began. Fowler slips out of you and pushes your broken body onto the bed. You whimper but believe they will give you a break.

“Aw, butterfly, it’s my turn now,” you groan feeling another pair of hands grab your body. The man drags you off the bed and places you on the ground. “Hansen, help me.”

“I’m not your fucking sidekick,” Hansen grunts.

“I told you,” Levinson growls and points at you on the ground, “help me. I want to give her the best. My cum!”

“Fine, fine…” Hansen pushes a pillow under your head. He spreads your legs and presents your cum-leaking pussy to Levinson. “Satisfied?”

“Not yet,” Levinson steps toward your trembling body. He looks down at your naked form, smirking darkly as you stare up at him. The man is just like you, stark naked. “I hope you are ready for me, butterfly.”

You lick your lips, still tasting Barnes’ cum on your tongue. “Yeah…” you whimper and wait for his move.

“Good girl.”

Levinson grips his massive cock. He looks you in the eyes and starts stroking his cock. Moans leave this beautiful man’s lips as he stares at you. His grip tightens around his cock, and he fists himself faster.

Levinson has been on the edge since the moment his eyes landed on you. He wildly jerks his hips and imagines how your cunt will feel around his cock.

“Y/N,” he shouts your name and paints your body with his cum.

The moment his cream ends up on your skin, your body sizes up, and you cum untouched, whimpering as you don’t know what just happened.

“Guys, that was awesome,” Penelope coos. She smirks as the men she hired to spice the party up get dressed. “We all enjoyed your service.���

“Anytime, ma’am,” one of the callboys she paid to give your bridesmaids a good time says.

“I hope the bride got her money’s worth too,” Penelope giggles. “Five men giving her all she ever wanted. Phew…”

“Five men?” The callboy asks. “Ma’am. Every man you hired is within this room. We don’t know the others. We thought you hired someone else for the bride.”

“What?” Penelope stutters. “No. I only called you. I—I didn’t hire anyone else…”

You wake on a soft mattress. A silky nightgown covers your sore body. “Morning, sunshine,” Hansen greets you with a wink. He took the mask off, revealing the mustache you felt more than once against your clit last night. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Penelope outdid herself hiring you,” you grin. “You followed the script. I really enjoyed all of you and your service.”

You roll to your side to watch Barnes sip on his coffee. “You too, Barnes.”

“Bucky, doll,” he winks at you. “I think after I fucked all of your holes you can call me Bucky.”

“I hope Penelope paid you well. This was…phew…” you sit up to look around the room. You frown, as you are not at the bedroom of the house you rented for your bachelorette party. “Where are we?”

“Oh, that,” Nick Fowler laughs. “You see, we are not the callboys your little friend hired. We kind of hijacked your party to get back at your fiancé.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, we got the script and the guys your friend hired to fuck you gave us all the information we needed.”

“I don’t understand,” you gape at Steve who steps inside the room. He holds the script you handed to Penelope before she hired the callboys in his hands.

“Your fiancé fucked with the wrong person, so we wanted to fuck him over but,” Ari laughs at your shocked expression. “Imagine our surprise when we found out that you wanted to fuck some callboys and send your fiancé the video.”

“He cheated on me,” you snap at Ari. “He never made me cum and dared to cheat on me. I wanted to fulfill my fantasies and get back at him at the same time!”

“I knew I liked her!” Lloyd exclaims. “See, we should do her a favor and send the tape to her now ex-fiancé. He’ll freak out, but she’s safe with us.”

“What?” You huff as the men start chatting about your fiancé, how you came on their cocks, and anything in between. “Guys, where are we?”

“We brought you somewhere safe,” Ari says and turns his attention back toward his coffee. “Don’t worry, butterfly. We like you, and will always make you cum. Just relax, lean back, and enjoy how we dismantle your ex…”

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #nick fowler #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ari levinson #smut #tw: consensual non-con #Best bridesmaid ever #dark!fic

[bellyquest]

Wrote a dark, forced weight gain fic for you horny heathens 😚

https://fantasyfeeder.com/stories/view?id=311385&rowStartComment=0&rowStart=3

#tw: consensual non-con #medical procedure #weight gain story #sci-fi feedism

[sweatandwoe]

After reading some Astarion takes, I can say with full certainty, that I would not trust some of you to not slutshame or insult SA victims for having sex

#you think trauma healing is never moving past what happened and im sorry for whatever made you feel that way #sa victims are allowed to have kinky consensual sex as much as they want #sa #sa tw #tw sa #astarion #bg3 #non con mention #trying to tag it all so no one gets triggered on accident

[tennessoui]

thinking about a soulmate canon au where you find your soulmate via touch and the jedi order is a bit more pious and has a very respectful no touching culture that obi-wan absolutely abides by. meanwhile anakin is raised on tatooine before coming to the temple and he's really used to touch, and it drives him a little insane, that no one touches him casually in the temple but he learns to abide by it as well and follow his master's example

only for him to fall head over heels for padmé as soon as they touch in aotc and he thinks his reactions to her are due to them being soulmates so they get married because padmé doesn't really know what finding her soulmate feels like either, but anakin's touch and attention feels good (and maybe he unintentionally uses the Force to convince her) so they must be soulmates

meanwhile obi-wan saved his padawan's life when he was like sixteen and was knocked unconscious and tossed into an ocean or something so obi-wan gives him mouth to mouth to resuscitate him---and discovers instantly that they're soulmates....but anakin's out cold and doesn't feel it so obi-wan's left alone with the realization that he's some kind of monster, being the soulmate of a child and anakin can never ever ever know.

so canon happens as canon does but with obi-wan knowing and keeping this secret to himself and carefully making sure he never touches anakin while anakin gets all of his touches from his wife and obi-wan watches from afar knowing he can never tell anakin or anyone else

but palpatine works it out and definitely tells anakin once he's Fallen and killed his wife and also been barbecued (by his soulmate), which makes vader obsess with finding obi-wan (more than he is in canon)

and he finally captures him and has the acolytes chain him up in mustafar. vader visits and asks if obi-wan cut off his arms so he couldn't touch him and know, and it's obi-wan's worst fear and biggest regret that anakin finds out they're soulmates, but now he has no control over the situation. not as vader approaches, not as he takes off his helmet, not as vader leans close and brushes what remains of his lips against obi-wan's cheek

and it feels just as good and right and perfect as it did the first and only time they touched, except now obi-wan isn't sure who the monster is. maybe it's both of them

#kit's silly lil aus #obikin #vaderwan #tw: non consensual touching #to be safe but also in my mind its wayyyy dubious and non con touching when vader captures obi-wan #obi-wan's relatively helpless and vader is still a touch starved cat #rubbing their cheeks together because it feels so good to touch his soulmate #but also his soul mate has made it impossible to touch him #what an obi-wan thing to do #obi-wan probably considers (for a brief brief brief moment) #letting anakin die when he first finds out he's his soulmate #but then he could never #but it adds to his guilt about the whole thing #and his shame #and his feelings of unworthiness #etc etc etc #for this to make sense i guess the jedi are also pretty unimpressed with soulmates because of the attachment issues they cause #and that's one of the reasons theyre very no touch #so shame upon shame upon shame for obi-wan here #also imagining Kenobi show era obiwan using himself as a distraction so leia can get away #all he’ll see is me dialed to 300% #with an added all he’ll want to do is rub the remains of his face against my body and say awful mean things that cut me to the quick #but I can take it because k agree with all the mean things

[terrence-silver]

why does 'baby it's cold outside' give terry silver and beloved vibes

It gives you Terry Silver vibes because he's adamant.

Man doesn't like losing.

He knows how to be sweet, but in a way a slow, quiet water current is, seemingly mellow, initially unassuming, yet capable of eroding a rock with his perfidiousness; his tenacious politeness and consistent insistence on (performative?) courtesy being so tactically aggressive on the downlow when he wants it to be, he'd downright talk beloved into staying the night even when they initially weren't certain if they should or if it's appropriate, perhaps, not wanting to give off the wrong message. But, by the end of the evening, they will stay, because in Terry's own words, to quote him, he's been making you do things you didn't wanna do right from the very start. Ever since you met him. And of course he thinks of everything. Things most people wouldn't even think of thinking. He covers all grounds gleefully and has the greatest fun doing so Slowly squashes all boundaries and defenses over a candlelit, classical arrangement and several wonderful, Michelin star courses. Inviting beloved over, having them driven to him, or picking them up himself (depending of what statement he is out to make) even when he knows the disposition outdoors will be foul later on, at the right moment, almost as if though the sky itself is suiting his strategic needs --- hey, if people can utilize weather conditions in warfare, then why not in love? What's the difference between a Monsoon Season in Vietnam and a rain downpour accompanied by thunder over LA? Or maybe, an unexpected bit of snowing along the West Coast he uses to his advantage by setting this rendezvous, deliberately, during the most miserable days in the year, on purpose, to have a justifiable excuse to keep you?

Control you?

What's the difference between a Monsoon deep in enemy territory and this?

None, if you ask Terry.

All's fair in love and war.

Distracting beloved and winning time until the date extends to the point it's pitch black outside and staying --- well, staying only seems reasonable, practical and courteous under these circumstances. He is no monster; sending someone home at the dead of night? With all this rain? Lightning? Inconceivable! He won't bear that on his conscience. He cannot allow it! He's a very precise and dedicated host and oh, look, his staff is already dancing circles around you before you can even really protest, offering to escort you to your, erhm, quarters. Don't you feel guilty at how hard everyone's trying to make you comfortable? At home? Has he been bad? He's wined, dined and romanced beloved and he's been the most splendid company, like a real gentleman should be. Why wouldn't they stay? With him? Beloved has no reason, it is just their mind playing tricks on them, boggled down by social conventions. They want to stay, deep down, they really do? Don't they? Terry knows they don't, not really, but by the time he's done with them, they'll believe whatever he wants them to believe. Where could they possibly go anyway? Head down the highway? In a storm? On foot? Down a lane of neighboring manors? They've been trapped the minute they entered his premises and they never even realized it. In current times, an older Terry might just have a smart house and fingerprint activated state of the art security systems in place. Nobody can leave even if they wanted to. Even if they tried. There you are, stuck as he passionately shows off his collection of rare antique swords as a subtle threat.

Albeit, his Mayan brutalist concrete behemoth of a palace is no different back in the 80's. The sheer size of that place alone is a logistical hindrance to anyone who tried to leave and escape. And oh, his mansion has so many spare rooms. Doesn't beloved want a grand tour after dessert?

Do they think he's given them hours and hours of his best self for free?

It isn't for free. No. Nothing ever is.

He'll want something in return, and that something is in his bed.

After all...it's so cold outside.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #baby it's cold outside #tw; dubious consent #tw; non consensual #tw; dub con #tw; non con #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; coercion #tw; mindgames

[coffeeangelinabox]

Febuwhump #19: Please, don't

My first veeerrrryyyyy slight cheat. I'm doing 18 and 19 the alternate way round for the simple reason that I have a good idea for this and it's Sunday so I have time to do it properly.

All the warnings. This is extremely non consensual and gratuitously so.

None of them are the type to back down. Forcibly portkey'd to Malfoy Manor, bound with a nasty set of incarcerous jinxes and staring down a visibly delighted Lucius Malfoy, Sirius still looks around the dining room with completely unfeigned disinterest.

"You've had the place done up," he comments idly. The drawl he spent years exorcising from his voice creeps back in.

If they had hoped Malfoy would be distracted by bantering back and forth until James and Peter could effect a rescue, they were out of luck. Instead, his smirk merely widens and he continues to stare.

Sirius tilts his chin, gritting his teeth and angles himself fractionally forward. He's humiliatingly unscathed. Knocked out from behind before he'd known they were there. They'd barely arrived. This was supposed to be simple reconnaissance, three teams of three, in and out of a set of suspected Death Eater meeting points. It was not supposed to be a social call to the heart of obviously hostile territory.

Lily has a cut across her cheek and her wrists are bruised. She'd fought like a wild thing, and would have been able to make a break for it...if it had ever been in Lily Potter to leave people behind. She will not sacrifice people for the greater good, and even now she doesn't regret her choice.

Remus was the only one of them who had surrendered, though, in his defence, the wand held to Lily's head hadn't given him much choice. It hadn''t stopped the bruises and rough treatment. He isn't sure what they know about him, though it's obvious there's a traitor deep inside their inner circle. No one outside of the nine of them had known their exact locations and timings. Dumbledore maybe. Or Moody. But to Remus' knowledge, James and Gideon Prewitt had planned this one. It narrows the suspect list down to nine people. Eight. He bares his teeth in a snarl he wishes it were the right time of the moon to make more lethal.

"Now," Malfoy finally breaks the silence. He steps closer and runs the tip of his wand over Sirius' face. Sirius arches back with a sound of disgust. Malfoy simply follows his movement, it isn't like he can go far. "As uninvited guests, I do hope you are going to be entertaining."

"Oh, of course," Sirius says. His tone is still light, but Remus has known him too well and too long not to see the tension thrumming beneath his skin. "I know some good jokes. What's the difference between a Slytherin and an idiot?"

Malfoy raises his hand and Sirius doesn't so much as flinch, then he lowers it with a chuckle. "No. I wouldn't sully myself by touching any of you."

For a second Remus almost relaxes.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Lily demands. "None of us are going to tell you anything. It's a lot of trouble to have us dragged here just to kill us."

Malfoy smiles. "As I said, Mudblood. Entertainment."

And just like that, it's not relaxing at all.

A few waves of Malfoy's wand later and Lily has been moved over to the table, fixed down, spread eagled. A few well placed diffindos remove her clothes and cut thin lines into her skin. She glares up at Malfoy, there are tears in her eyes, but she doesn't let them fall. "Go on then," she snarls. "Only way you can get a woman anyway, to force her."

Sirius lunges forward with a snarl, but finds he can't move his feet, Remus strangely can, but Sirius' protective positioning of earlier puts the other man in his way and he can't get to Lily and they can't make him watch this-

Malfoy holds up a hand. "I won't touch her."

They both look at him, distrust an almost tangible thing.

"If you do exactly as I say."

Remus hisses out breath between his teeth. Lily doesn't look at them, and the mere fact that she doesn't immediately tell them not to worry about her, not to give up anything curls something cold around his heart.

"What do you want?" Sirius says after a moment, voice low.

Malfoy's sneer widens. "You both pleasure the filthy little Mudblood. The one who makes her cum wins a blowjob from their failure of a friend."

"Then you'll let us all go, I suppose."

"Exactly."

"We all know that's a lie."

Malfoy shrugs. "Why would it be? When the Dark Lord wins, you will all be valued soldiers in his army. I wouldn't spill magical blood so cheaply."

"Even-?"

"Even hers. Why make an enemy of you, Black? Or of Potter."

"And if we refuse?" Remus asks quietly.

"Oh, my point about not spilling magical blood unnecessarily stands. You two can still walk out of here, unscathed. After, of course, you watch as many men as I can find willing to risk catching whatever a Mudblood little slut is carrying fuck her raw. Then I'll cut her guts out. You can take whatever's left with you."

Lily's breath hitches. Remus watches a single treacherous tear run the the wrong way down her face and into her hairline. Sirius must see it too because before Malfoy can notice the weakness he's pressing himself forward, arching sinuously.

"Waste of having the Black heir really owe you a favour, Malfoy. Wouldn't you rather have my," he pauses and gives Malfoy the bedroom eyes Remus had watched him use for years to charm various Hufflepuffs off to Greenhouse Three after dark. "gratitude?"

"No." Malfoy says bluntly, not moved at all. "I want you to realise that following orders is your best, your only choice. It'll help you later."

The seduction falls away, nothing more than a thin veneer and for a moment, Remus is certain that Sirius will start screaming and swearing. And that will do none of them the slightest bit of good. "Padfoot," he says quietly. Then, to their tormentor. "Alright. We'll do it."

Malfoy moves out of their way and gestures with a flourish towards Lily. Their hands are still bound, but they can suddenly move. Remus, for the first time, looks at her properly. He feels his ears redden with embarrassment. His own and what is radiating from her.

She is undeniably beautiful. Creamy skin and tumbling red hair in a fiery wave. Her emerald eyes are gleaming. The faint dusting of freckles across her nose is repeated on shoulders and inner thighs. Her breasts are round and full and high and the pinked nubs of her nipples are tight from cold and fear. Spread as she is, he can see every part of her, and Merlin help him, but the way she closes her eyes as he looks, flush spreading from cheekbones down her throat and chest makes something hot and primal inside him want to claim her.

She's his best friend's wife. He can't imagine that James would want him to make a different choice, but, frankly, he'd rather take his chances with a cruciatus.

Sirius drops down to his knees between Lily's legs. "It's okay," he says, a soothing rumble in his voice that tells Remus he's said these exact words before. "This is fine, Evans."

A noise creeps out of her. "Potter," she corrects in a thread of a whisper.

"Lils...I can't call you Potter while I do this."

"At the moment," Malfoy says waspishly, "you're not doing anything."

All three of them flinch and Remus too steps closer. He doesn't kneel down, opting instead to lean over her, shielding as much of her body from Malfoy's gaze as he can. "We'll make this good," he promises against her lips and then kisses her gently, chastely.

Her eyes flicker open and there's real violence in their depths. Remus nods in silent, mutual agreement. As soon as they have opportunity, they'll take Malfoy apart. Bloodily. Unpleasantly. From the feet first so that Remus can hear him scream.

Then she tenses with a moan as Sirius abruptly gets started.

Remus feels slightly put out for a moment. He hadn't known they were ready to start, and he hastens to catch up, mouth fixing quickly over one of those hard pink nubs and he begins to torment her with tongue and teeth, laving over her chest, seeking out every bit of salt from the fear-sweat that has been slicking her body for the past twenty minutes.

He lets himself fall into the rhythm, both of pleasuring a beautiful woman and competing with Sirius Black. Sirius is their most likely traitor. Remus will not willingly suck his dick. He will not. So he has to win this. It's as simple as that.

Sirius is undoubtedly the more experienced lover of the two of them, but he's appalling selfish and he rushes. Remus can't expect him to be different in bed, and he has a number of advantages, even fully human his senses are fractionally better than average. He can hear Lily's heartrate increase, smell not just her arousal, but her blood as it pumps through her. He can discern the tiny differences in her moans and whimpers.

He kneels besides Sirius, and puts his tongue to work.

Sirius has his mouth fixed over Lily's clit, sucking, pulling her pleasure from her by sheer brute force. Letting them live is stupidity, it can only be because the traitor is in the room with them. His fury at Remus for doing this to him, to Lily and James, translates into the ferocity of his movements. When Remus' head pushes up besides his, he cedes the clit to him and pushes back against her hole. He allows the very barest of transformation to padfoot and pushes his now much longer and wetter tongue into her, swirling hard within and Lily lets out a shattered mewl.

He dares to feel pleased with himself for a second as she stutters out a syllable that can only be part of his name. She's becoming helplessly aroused as he stabs his tongue in and out of her, fucking her with it. He wishes he had his hands free to knead her ass, her breasts. She arcs almost off the table with another cry and another gush of wetness.

"Siriu- ohhhhhhhhh, 'Mus. Like that, like that-"

James is like a brother to him. Harry is practically his son. Lily...Lily should never be this. But Sirius cannot deny that her desperate groans are spurring him on just as much as his desire to protect and his fury at the situation, and he feels his own cock rise in his pants.

"I don't," she twists on the wood. "Don't, please..."

Sirius pulls back. She knows they have to, knows the consequences of not following this instruction will be worse, but he echoes her anyway. "Malfoy. Please. Don't- don't make us do this. Anything else."

Remus has always been more ruthless.

As Sirius moves, he chases the spasms of her pussy with his tongue, drinking her down and with a groan Lily falls over the edge moaning and whimpering and writhing.

Malfoy claps his hands like he's at the theatre. His eyes spear Sirius. "Anything else, Black? Very well. You don't have to touch her again. Just blow your friend and we can all be on our way."

Sirius stomach sinks in a completely different way. He hates losing, all four of them were always competitive with one another.

I thought you said you could play chess, Padfoot.

My grandmother is better at gobstones than that.

Only four Os? I got five!

And worse. Remus is the reason they are here. Remus violated Lily. Remus forced her to a climax she didn't want. Remus is the reason so many of Sirius' friends have been lost in this war.

Remus unfolds himself and stands. Sirius doesn't look up at him.

If he refuses now, it will likely be Lily that pays for his habitual insolence. She is worth nothing to Malfoy and everything and then some to Sirius' only family. He shuffles forward and grins up at Remus with a few too many teeth.

"Let's see how long you last, Moony." His voice sounds wrong, but probably (hopefully) that will be put down to the stress of the situation and later he will force Prongs to see that they can't trust Moony. And that Moony knows exactly how to break him. He'll make him see that they have to rethink the Fidelius Charm plan.

He leans forward and, thank Merlin, Remus is wearing robes, not some awful muggle trousers. It's easy enough to get at him, to use his tongue in the slit of his boxers and lick a stripe up his cock.

To Sirius' eternal shame, Remus is not the slightest bit turned on. His small cock, flacid and curled, fits easily on his tongue. Maybe he deserves this anyway. Traitor Moony might be, but he's the monster that enjoyed what they did to Lily.

Remus however, doesn't manage to maintain his disinterest in the face of Sirius' concerted attention. It doesn't take long until he's reduced to an incoherent, dripping mess. Sirius' actions are almost violent. Remus has come to blows with Sirius and felt less attacked than how he feels right now as Sirius slurps at his dick as though he'll die without it. As though wishing he could punish Remus for something. He swallows against pleas. Trust Sirius to use seemingly losing as a new way to attack.

Lily is crying properly, her reserves totally eroded, and Remus realises that he is too. Malfoy is smirking at all three of them. Remus supposes that whether or not Sirius is technically on his team the Malfoy-Black rivalry has enough layers that he can still enjoy Sirius brought low in this way. Thinking of who - what - Sirius has given his allegiance to, Remus instinctively pulls back. Just as Sirius does something with his tongue, flattening it against the vein on the underside and tightening his lips to produce an almost painful sense of suction. He cums as he pulls out, splattering his seed all over Sirius' face.

He's the enemy. This is his fault, but Remus can't help the stab of guilt as his friend looks up at him, betrayal naked for all to see. If Malfoy wasn't still watching and laughing, he'd beg him to stop looking at him like that - please, Padfoot. Don't. I didn't mean-

Instead, he looks away.

#my writing #febuwhump #whump prompts #torture #febuwhumpday19 #non consensual touching #non con #dead dove do not eat #darkfic #cw noncon #tw kidnapping #very very very non consensual #and graphic #public #voyerurism #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #lily potter #lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy is an irredeemable rapist bastard

[ifidiedinadream]

this was my idea:

the boys put something in my drink then take their turns using me and film it for me to watch later.

oh no worries anon we're pros at cnc fantasies!! ngl ive wanted to write consensual drugging for a while but i feel like i gotta be in a Specific Mood (tm) for it

#cnc tw #consensual non consent tw #consensual non-con tw #fantasies

[holylulusworld]

Menace vs Maniac

Summary: You end up in their clutches.

Pairing: August Walker x fem!Reader x Lloyd Hansen

Warnings: kidnapped reader, interrogation, threats, restraints, pussy slapping, use of sex swing, degrading, dumbification, dubcon/consensual non-consent, drug use/sex pollen kind of drug, pillow princess reader (she just takes it, okay), butt plugs, use of sex toys, threesome, oral sex (male rec), anal sex, vaginal sex, both have big dicks, n/c role play, Sir/daddy kink, implied oral (fem rec), implied facial. 18+ only

A/N: My boyfriend left me unattended yesterday so I turned this random thought into this...🤣🤣🤣

A/N2: I imagined they used this swing.

Please head the warnings for this story before you proceed!

Fuck, this is bad. You knew it was a bad idea to do Ethan Hunt a favor. Helping him, or even being in the same room as him is a death sentence.

If only you stayed out of his mission. If only you didn’t deliver the flash drive he needed so badly to him. 

That’s how you ended up in a basement, face down in a sex swing hammock. Your ankles and wrists are secured by the cuffs that are attached to the swing. And we don’t want to about the vibrating butt plug in your ass. 

“Uh-uh, that’s a sigh for sore eyes,” one of your captors whistles. He circles you like prey while you helplessly wiggle in the sex swing hammock. Or at least you try to do so. “My partner told me that you are uncooperative. Not even the drugs helped. Let me see if I can make you sing.”

He grips your chin to force you to look at him. Fuck, you know that guy. He’s a mercenary the agency hired once in a while. What was his name?

“Bite me,” you spit in his face. “Get off me, Hansen.”

“Aw, sweet, sweet cupcake. You remember my name.” You snarl when he presses a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “I bet you will sing it when I’m done with you.”

“In your dreams.”

“Babycakes, you shouldn’t poke the bear. I can be nice,” he kisses you again, tongue poking inside your mouth. You fight the cuffs, but it’s no use. There is no breaking out of this swing. “If you are nice, I’ll prepare you for what’s to come. If not, my unfriendly friend will break you.”

“Get. Off. Me. You fucking creep,” you bite his lip when he tries to kiss you again. “I’ll bite you if you try to do this again.”

“Still uncooperative,” the other man in the room asks. He walks toward you and Hansen, just staring down at your naked form. “Let me break her. I know how to handle a brat.”

You glare at the other man. That face. You saw it before on footage. He’s a wanted man. Dangerous and deadly. “Name’s August Walker,” he smirks darkly. “You will remember it after I broke you down to nothing.”

“Let’s begin then,” Hansen snickers at your pained expression. “Just to be sure. Will you be a good girl and tell us where the flash drive is? Say yes, and all of this is over. You will wake in your apartment, and this never happened.”

“Remain silent, and I’ll make you scream,” August lifts one brow. He waits for your answer and crosses his arms over his wide chest. “I’ll give you ten seconds.”

“Fuck you,” you growl at both men. “Do you think I’m scared? I got cut, shot, and punched before. Nothing you can do to me hasn’t already been done to me.”

“She’s so naïve, isn’t she?” Lloyd dips his head to glance at your trembling lips. “Sweet cupcake, I won’t shoot or cut you. We found a better way to make you sing…”

“I’ll give you ten minutes,” this time August grabs your face with his large hand. “Think about it, sugar. I can be nice too. If not, the first thing I’ll ruin is your cunt…”

“Is it bad that I want her to remain stubborn?” Lloyd smirks darkly. “I want to break her with my dick. I know she will be a perfect little cock slut for me.”

“I’ll have her first, Hansen,” August dips his head to glare at Lloyd. “We agreed on working together. This doesn’t mean you have your go first. I want to have every hole before you have it.”

“We can use her at the same time. That’s what that swing is good for, and she’s got three holes for us to use.”

“I want her mouth first. She will suck my dick, and then, I’ll interrogate her some more. If she refuses to answer, I’ll fuck her cunt raw.”

“Calm the fuck down, Walker. The drugs I gave her will heighten her senses and increase her libido. She will beg us to fuck her because it will hurt like hell not to get fucked.”

“She will give us all the answers we need while taking dick,” August snickers at your predicament. “I can hardly wait.”

His cock is about to burst his pants open, but he needs to pretend he cares about the mission when all he can think about is your tight little pussy wrapped around his monster cock. 

“That she will, my mustache-loving friend,” Lloyd claps his hands. “Time’s up, I guess. She’s ready for harvest.”

“Remember, I’ll fuck her holes first…”

“You can choose one hole you can fuck first; I’ll take one of the others,” Lloyd gets a knife out and points it at August. “She has three. Choose wisely.”

“We will see…”

“What will it be, sweet cheeks,” Lloyd cups your face with both hands, holding it while August walks behind you. You struggle to keep a straight face. It makes you nervous that you can’t see the other man. “I want answers, and I want them now.”

“Get fucked.”

Lloyd smirks at your reply. He’s glad that you didn’t give them answers. But you will, eventually. If not, he will find a way to kill time while his team tries to hunt Ethan down. “Did ya hear that, my friend? She wants a good time.” 

“Hmm…,” August stares at your spread legs. He crouches down to inspect your leaking pussy. “You didn’t lie. She’s leaking for my dick. I bet I can shove my cock so deep inside of her she’ll feel me in her belly. What a waste of cunt, always hidden underneath her little skirts. I think we should keep her like this, kept for pleasure.”

“Our pleasure,” Lloyd singsongs. He’s excited to finally get his hands on you. “Now, baby cakes. How do you want it? Will you be a good girl and open this mouth for my dick and suck it. Or do I need to get rid of your teeth? I’d hate to hurt you, sweetness.”

“If you try to—” you cry out at the sudden pain shooting from your cunt through your whole body. “What the fuck?”

“I forgot to tell you that August loves to slap pussy,” Lloyd grins darkly. “I ask you again. Will you be a good girl and suck my dick?”

You blink at Lloyd. There is no way out, and your body feels like it’s on fire. Whatever was in the syringe Lloyd rammed into your neck a few hours ago, is taking a toll on your body and mind. 

“Answer him,” August slaps your pussy again. Your body jolts, but to your shame, you whimper at the simplest touch. “She’s a dumb little slut, isn’t she? All our captured little bird can do is drool and moan.”

Lloyd grins proudly. “Now, sweet cheeks. Open up. Be good for me,” he purrs when you open your mouth to let him shove two fingers inside. He moves them back and forth, humming as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. “She’s there, my friend. Let’s test the drug. I bet she will cum only from sucking my dick.”

“I will fuck her cunt first. You can wait until I’m inside of her. I want to hear her cry because I split her open,” August slaps his hand between your legs again. He toys with your thrumming clit, pinching it roughly. “Yeah, that’s a bitch in heat, ready to get ruined.”

“A whore for us to use. I consider keeping her.” It’s like you’re not even there in the room. They talk about you like you’re only a piece of meat they can use. And they will. “Open up for Daddy.”

 You stare at Lloyd as he hastily unbuckles his belt. He unzips his pants and pushes them past his hips. His cock springs free, making you whimper at the monster he’s hiding in his pants.

“Stop! I told you I want her to scream when I shove my cock inside her cunt or up her ass,” August slaps your ass. “Isn’t that right? You want me to fuck this cunt.”

“I-“ you are unsure how to answer. Escape is not an option, and you can’t give them the information they want. All you can do is let them have their way with your body, and hope someone will come to your aid. 

“Just shove it inside, man. I’m ready to cum all over her face just by looking at her in that hammock. Fuck, I want to shove it down her throat.”

Lloyd slaps his cock against your cheek. He smears precum all over your lips as you try to ignore that you can hear August’s pants hit the floor. You hear the rest of his clothing drop to the ground and hold your breath. 

“You better relax this pussy, or it will hurt like hell,” August laughs. “As if I would care. I’ll ruin this snatch.”

“Walker, fuck her or not. If not, I’ll use her mouth!” Lloyd is slowly losing his patience. He pushes his cockhead past your lips, grunting as you lick over the tip. “Good girl. Keep going.”

“Hell, she will look so good with my cock inside of her little hole,” August slaps your pussy again. He laughs and snickers as you try to wiggle away. “Stop it.” He warns, and you stop moving. You feel the wide head slide through your slicked folds. It’s unfair that your body is betraying you. “Good little slut.” He nudes at your entrance, groaning as your hole strains against the thick cock head.

“Nggh…” you choke out. He’s too thick, and you’re not sure you can take August. Not that he would care. He grips your asscheeks, spreading them wider to watch his cock disappear inside of you. “No…”

“Oh, yes. Just relax, sweetness,” August presses further into you. He moves the tip back and forth, back and forth to ease you open. “Fuck. That’s a good cunt.”

You moan loudly around the tip of Lloyd’s cock. Your walls fight August’s intrusion, but his size is something you never felt before. “Fuck her already.”

“Shut up!” August barks at Lloyd. “Let me enjoy this pussy. You annoying fucker!”

August moves his hands to your thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh as he pushes further in. 

“You gotta do it with one thrust, dude. Don’t leave her hanging.” Lloyd chuckles at his awful wordplay. “Did you get that one? Hanging!”

“Fuck off!” August’s grip on your flesh becomes bruising. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you. At least the part he already shoved inside. “You gotta take it all now.”

He snaps his hips into your ass, causing you to cry out in pleasured pain. You whine and whimper as your pussy clenches tightly around his too-thick shaft. You don’t know if he’ll be able to even move. “Lemme see…”

Lloyd slips the tip out of your mouth to walk toward August. He cocks his head and watches his partner slide in and out of you. “Sheesh, she’s stuffed like…I don’t know. What if you get stuck inside her snatch?”

“I’ll happily die inside this cunt, Hansen. Now fuck off! I don’t need a creep to watch me fuck my g—this cunt,” August snarls at Lloyd. “Baby cheeks, I hope you are ready for the ride of your life.”

You’re not. Not at all. But what can you do? Your body is screaming for release and there is a huge cock inside of your pussy. All you can do is play pillow princess and take what August is about to give you. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Damn right. This cunt is going to get well-fucked. I’ll make your life so much easier. Let me just fuck every thought out of your brain. All you need to do is take cock and leak slick for me.”

You nod eagerly. 

“Would you look at this good little slut?” Lloyd mocks you. He glances at your stuffed pussy one last time before he walks back toward your head. “Fuck her.”

“Please fuck me,” you cry. “I need you to fuck it out of me. Please. It hurts so badly. I don’t know what he gave me.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be well-fucked in no time.” You hold your breath when he slowly slides halfway out of your cunt again. “Now…let’s go for a ride.”

Your mouth falls open as he rams back inside. August doesn’t play around. He finds a steady rhythm within a few seconds. He alternately grinds into you and pushes you toward Lloyd with powerful thrusts. 

“Fuck her mouth now!”

“Shut up,” Lloyd grips your face with both hands. “Open up, princess. I want you to be a good girl, relax your jaw and just let me fuck this mouth.”

He slowly moves his cock past your lips, smirking as you obediently take him down your throat. Lloyd doesn’t stop until the tip hits the back of your throat. You choke a little but try to relax your throat to not anger him. 

“That’s it,” Lloyd purrs as you press your tongue against the pulsating vein on the underside of his cock. “Just let me have this pretty mouth.”

He holds your face in his hands and starts moving his hips. It feels like heaven and hell at the same time. You are restrained and at their mercy. But their cocks. Fuck their cocks inside your body feel so good.

“Yeah, she’s a good whore,” August speeds up. He hammers into your cunt, ignoring you groan and wheeze. It’s hard to breathe with Lloyd sliding in and out of your throat. Tears spill from your eyes and split runs out of your mouth. 

It feels like August wants to taunt you. His cock hits the right spot with almost deadly accuracy. There is no way in hell he can know your body so well, but he does. With every snap of his hips, you feel the knot in your belly tighten, and you fear you’ll come around him in no time. 

“She’s close. You better cum down her throat before she screams my name. I want to hear it.”

“Shut the…” Lloyd rocks his hips faster. Your mouth feels warm and like velvet around his twitching length, but it’s not enough. Not yet. He wants more of you. If he comes now, it will be over too soon. “No, I won’t. I’ll have her ass when you are done with her cunt.”

Your eyes widen, but you don’t get time to protest. Lloyd slips out of your mouth the moment August pushes you violently over the edge. To your shame, you cry out his name, and praise his cock like the cock-drunk slut he turned you into.

“Fuck, that’s…yes!” August slaps your ass with both hands. He shouts your name and spurts hotly into your abused cunt. “Your turn, Hansen. I’ll have her mouth to keep me warm. When you are done with her ass, I’ll have a turn too…”

Your eyes flutter shut. It’s too much. You can’t fight them so you, willingly open your mouth when August pinches your cheek. “You already learned, huh?”

“Daddy is going to lube your ass,” Lloyd moves his hand over your ass, pinching your cheeks, making you groan. “Shh…be thankful I opened you up with the plugs over the last days. If not, you’d be too tight to take me.”

Lloyd slowly rolls your clit between his fingers. “You will love my cock up your ass, cupcake.”

You bite your tongue to keep the moans from spilling from your lips. “Just put it up her ass.”

“Shut up,” Lloyd snaps at August. “It’s my turn to fill her holes. I’ll make it even better for her than you ever could.”

August rolls his eyes as his partner in crime moves toward the bag he brought with him this morning. He unzips it, humming happily as he gets lube, and a vibrating dildo out of the bag. 

“Cupcake, you will love it.” You keep yourself from rolling your eyes. August is watching you like a hawk and the last thing you need is that he finds out that you try to buy your time. “Let’s see.”

He unclasps the bottle of lube and adds a good amount to the dildo. Lloyd pushes the tip of the dildo inside of your cunt, slowly moving the sex toy in and out of your slicked cunt. You moan and whimper as he switches the device on.

“OH fuck!” you exclaim as he shoves the dildo completely inside of you. “Shit…oh…yes…oh fuck…”

“Not yet, baby cakes,” Lloyd adds a huge amount of lube on your ass and his fingers. “I’ll enjoy having your ass.” You feel his finger prob at your tightest hole. Your teeth shatter and you stiffen feeling his index finger slide past your ring of muscles. “Yes, she’s a natural, August.”

“I know,” August moves his right hand to your throat, holding it in a light grip. “You want to suck dick, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you husk lowly. If you can distract them long enough to forget about the flash drive, Ethan gets the chance to find you. “Please fuck my mouth, Sir.”

The next thing you know is that Lloyd is rubbing the head of his cock up and down the crack of your ass while fingering your tight hole. He hums and curses as he’s eager to get his dick inside. “Cupcake, you gotta be a big girl and take this beast up your ass now.” 

You open your mouth wide for August, ignoring Lloyd slipping his finger out of your ass. There is nothing you can do about the cocky bastard behind you. But if you are good for August, he might let you out of the hammock. He seems to be the more calculated and less crazy guy.

“Fuck her ass already,” August presses his cock between your lips, moaning as you slide your tongue over the tip. “Good girl. Now open wide for me.”

Lloyd ignores what’s happening with your mouth. You choke on August’s cock as Lloyd enters you. He slowly pumps his cock in and out of your asshole.

“Fuck, she’s so pretty filled with cock,” August groans. His eyes are glued to your mouth stuffed with his cock. Your jaw will hurt like hell, and you feel your throat become raw with every deep stroke of August’s cock, but you will endure every second to get back at them.

Lloyd starts to fuck you harder and faster. He’s close, you know it when he starts to lose control. He’s humping you like there is no tomorrow. Fucking your poor hole with vigor.

You’re floating. All you can do is give in to their desires and let your body take over. Your walls tighten around the dildo torturing your pussy. It seers your nerves, and reignite the fire August started. 

Fuck, you fall over the edge the moment Lloyd curses loudly. “Oh—fuck…this hole is good.”

Shame washes over you when another load of cum fills another of your holes. Lloyd comes fast up your ass. 

“Shit, did she cum again?” August thrusts a little harder watching Lloyd slip the dildo out of your cunt.  

“I’ll keep that whore. No discussion…”

August ignores Lloyd, or the fact that you choke on his monster cock. He slides even deeper down your throat, and smirk as you struggle to breathe right.

“Let me fuck this throat. We can talk about keeping her later…”

The door opens again. For what feels like the fiftieth time today. This time it’s Lloyd who wants to get his pound of your flesh.

It’s three days later, and you barely had the time to have a break. Both men took turns. Over, and over again. 

They didn’t ask you about the flash drive. Not a single time. Too busy getting their cocks inside of your ruined holes.

“Where to put it now?” Lloyd circles you like prey. 

At least they had the decency to bring you into a different room with a bed, and not fuck you in the swing all the time.

“I’m so tired, Daddy,” you barely lift your head. “Just choose a hole. Please not my mouth. My jaw still hurts.”

“Aw, my poor cupcake is sore,” he grins maliciously. “You know, I will be nice and help you relax before I fuck your cunt again. Lie on your back and let me eat this pussy. You were such a good girl for us.”

“What are you doing?” August grunts as he watches Lloyd roll you onto your back to crawl between your legs. “Oh, you hungry? She tastes good, but I’m afraid I drank all of her nectar.”

“You did?” Lloyd looks down at you with angry eyes. “Cupcake, did he eat your cunt?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You bite your index finger. “But my cunt is still hungry for your mouth. Do you want to have a taste?”

“Damnit, she’s a vixen,” Lloyd curses. He spread your legs roughly and settles between your thighs. “Now, be good and I’ll eat this pussy until you scream my name…”

“What will we do with her?” August huffs. “She was a good lay, and we had fun. But, we can’t let her go now, can we? This roleplay shit you suggested went a little too far.”

“She will never know we used the video to extort her stepfather,” Lloyd shrugs. “I wanna keep her. Cupcake is the first one not using her safe word.”

“Lloyd, no! We can’t keep her!” 

“What? She’s into kinky shit. Let’s keep her. Y/N will be such a good girl for us. And her daddy will never know all of it was fake,” Lloyd grins. “She told me that her stepfather is the worst.”

August rolls his eyes. “We can’t take her with us. Lloyd we talked about this more than once. Our job is not relationship friendly.” 

“What if…we keep her as a sweet sex slave? She’d love it. Y/N is a kinky slut,” Lloyd rubs his hands over his thighs. “She’ll make a sweet wife for us, August. Can we not keep her?”

“Who’s a slut,” you enter the room and immediately jump at August. “Do you want to chain me up this time, Augie?” you whine. “Please, I will tell you everything about the flash drive this time. Promised.”

“Sweetness, it’s time for you to go home,” August tries to ease you into letting you down. “We had fun, but the roleplay is over.”

“But—” you pucker your lips. “I want to stay with you and daddy. Please, Sir. I’ll do anything. I won’t take up much space. I only need a little space between you and Lloyd. Can you not take me with you?”

“Cupcake,” Lloyd purrs. “Of course, you can come with us.”

“Who’s this?” Ethan glances at the footage of August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, and you. “A new player?”

“We don’t know yet,” Benji glances at the footage again. “So far, all I can tell you is that the girl is not one of our agents nor with the CIA.”

“I need you to find out everything about her. Maybe she’s the key to their downfall…”

“AW, this is a cool place!” you look around the secret hideout August and Lloyd brought you to. “Is this your home?”

August rolls his shoulders. “One of many. Don’t get too comfortable. We are still on the run.”

“Sir, do you want to play?” you coquettishly ask. “I can be a foreign agent, and you need to interrogate me. Or I try to seduce you but you are more into spanking my ass and pussy.”

“Babycakes is in one of her moods,” Lloyd smirks. He cups his crotch, ready for another round with his little plaything. “August, what do you say?”

“I say,” August roughly cups your cheek. He strokes his thumb over your lower lip, humming as you look up at him with glassy eyes. “Down on your knees. And you won’t get up before your face is covered in our cum…”

Tags in reblog.

#Menace vs Maniac #august walker #lloyd hansen #august walker x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #smut #tw: consensual non-consent #august walker x you #lloyd hansen smut #august walker smut #non-con roleplay

[venting-town]

Crazy stupid how people preach about FICTIONAL characters doing things such as as rape/dub-con/etc, yet actively consume FICTIONAL media about murder/abuse/etc and enjoy it/say nothing about it/etc

Let’s face it: beings/non beings/etc are hypocrites. Literal everybody/somebody/nobody/anybody/body/etc is

You’re allowed to dislike something. You’re allowed to hate something.

Doesn’t make people who like FICTIONAL rape somehow worse ( or better or etc ) than people who like FICTIONAL murder

It’s still violence. Full stop.

Going on and on about one being worse than the other, yet excusing the other as it being “ not as bad “ is completely ignorant, hypocritical, and flat out stupid.

You aren’t better ( or worse ) than somebody who enjoys one violent FICTIONAL situation than somebody else who enjoys a different FICTIONAL situation.

And yes. Fiction CAN sometimes affect reality. Just like sometimes it CAN’T.

Just because somethings CAN’T doesn’t mean somebody WON’T

Just because somethings CAN doesn’t mean somebody WILL

And I’m saying this as a sex trafficking/torture/abuse/severely traumatized person/entity. Not that this means that somebody who haven’t experienced these things can’t talk, or that somebody who has had it worse can’t talk

Just stating perspective because I want to

#pro ship #anti ship #you’re allowed to dislike/hate/be unsure/like/love things #just because it makes you uncomfortable doesn’t make it inherently bad or that other people who enjoy FICTIONAL content are bad either #and vice versa #vent #tw vent #vent 12/19/23 #I feel like ( in a way ) certain violence ( such as murder ) isn’t as frowned upon in fiction ( at least in Western media ) because it’s so #fucking normalized. and rape/dub-con/etc isn’t. and I absolutely DO NOT support rape/dub-con irl. #( unless it’s consensual non consent (( aka a kink )) and everybody uses safe words and listens to each other like they’re supposed to ) #I’d rather somebody enjoy FICTIONAL violence than go out and actually commit these violent acts ( such as rape ) IN REAL LIFE #the former is better by a HUMONGOUS SHOT. and others feel how they want. and I still agree the former is better than ACTUALLY GOING OUT AND #DOING IT #tw rape #tw murder #tw dubcon #tw kink #tw child abuse #tw sex trafficking #tw torture #tw abuse

[youryanderedaddy]

Dark Is The Night

Summary: A late night encounter with a patroling soldier changes the trajectory of his life - and, unfortunately, yours too.

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, threats, thoughts of non - con, mention of war, patronizing behavior, slight misogyny, hinted kidnapping

All he could think about was you.

It was a damp linden night, one of the very few old fashioned ones - as if time itself had stopped. The old colonel was laughing in short sharp breathes, skin spotting in red along with his sweaty neck, tearing into a letter he had received this very morning. The young soldiers were all over the tavern - some crying, some cheering over a beer and calling each glass their last, losing themselves in the rich foam that covered their fresh military mustaches. Christoph was alone, though.

He had no wife to write back to - no home to call his own, no friends or family to celebrate his final battle with. He also wasn't a rookie - so he couldn't drink himself blind in the pursuit of ideals, of empty promises of greatness to come. Truth was, his troops had won their fair share of battles, and today they had signed a treaty that would certainly benefit the district - the one he had lost his youth fighting for. He knew the capital would attempt at invasion, those greedy fucks wanted to bite more than they could chew - but that was no longer his problem. Today his contract ended. Today he was a free man.

And yet.

And yet all he could think about was you.

It was funny - he had spent more nights than he could remember wishing he could burn this half - dead village to the ground, all together with the maidens and the elderly still stick fending for themselves after the war. He presumed he'd be doing everyone a favor - he'd rid himself of the memories that haunted his dreams, and they wouldn't have to suffer any longer, not when all that winter would bring once again was even more hunger and decay.

After all, the victory changed nothing. The starving populace wouldn't starve anymore - it would simply die, having lost fathers, sons, daughters, farmers, merchants, healers. Nothing less than the very foundation of society. So maybe it would be far less cruel, far more humane, to burn everything and let them die with dignity.

But then you too would burn with the miserable souls of the damned. The man pictured it all - your beautiful skin still damp from the rain blistering in red and orange, and eventually black, those gems of yours trembling beneath your long eyelashes as the smoke swallowed your last breath.

The thought made Christoph irrationally angry - jealous even. Not only because he just imagined you dying, but because it was someone, something else stealing your final moment from him. Something else bruising your skin and forcing your lips to swell, something else causing you pain and suffering. No, he couldn't let you die. Not like this.

He couldn't help but recall your first meeting two years ago. Unbeknownst to you he had memorized it, citing each line by heart - envisioning it in his memory over and over each time he needed an escape, an outlet. The soldier wasn't one for softness, never one to dream and hope - but deep down he knew that this simple encounter had swayed the bullets. It had made him grip his rifle just a bit closer, made the biting wind just a bit warmer. He was a killing machine undeserving of humanity - yet you had saved him without even realizing it.

It was a cold winter night - quite opposite to this one, in the middle of Hell. The county your village was part of had been surrounded for a few weeks. Food was running low, and even clean water was scarce. All the men had been displaced a long time ago, sent off to fight in the eastern territories. Christoph was stuck at the Iron hills, a region so poor they didn't even bother to send additional armies to. If it lost, it lost. It held no special resources, no cultural or economic significance, no sea or forest roads to profit off of. All in all, no one wanted to serve here. No one but him.

Not that Christoph was too fond of the hills - it was more so that he didn't care where he was going to die. Whether it was on the eastern front, the western or even on the other side of the ocean, it didn't matter. And he had made peace with that fact - but before death took a toll on him, he was going to earn enough buck to buy good cigarettes for once in his miserable life. With real tobacco, none of that cheap imported trash they sold in his hometown.

And that's exactly how fate let him meet you. He was patrolling the border bridge late into the night - a thick cigar in hand (a parting gift from the general Murphy), humming to an old melody he couldn't quite remember the name of. He was alone that night - his friend had been injured so he needed to rest. The man was trying to stay alert, although the fatigue had long settled in between his tired bones and it refused to let go. The lack of sleep and the sheer paranoia was making him jumpy, ready to point his gun at the slightest of sound. He almost shot you that night.

"Colonel." You had whispered through gritted teeth, slowly raising your hands up as you approached him with a hesitant step. He blinked twice, unsure if he was still awake. Surely there was no way a young woman was out alone so late during wartime. "Colonel!" You repeated, putting a bit more force into your otherwise soft, calm voice. This seemed to snap him out of his trance and he finally raised his head to look at you, his sharp, intense gaze measuring you up from top to bottom. Just like a predator seizing his pray, like a soldier trained to keep his eyes on the target, he knew no other way to introduce himself other than with a silent, unspoken threat.

"A bit young to be calling me that, no?" The man snapped back, voice coming out more raspy than he intended - but it was hardly his fault. He rarely had visitors nowadays - no one wanted to expose themselves to the front lines, to risk becoming smoked meat, which meant he had little opportunity for chatter. So his voice had become rough - almost unnecessary cruel.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, blurry eyes focused on the weapon resting oh - so snuggly against the soldier's heart as if guarding it. "I'm not familiar with your many titles, sir." You explained with a certain bite. Christoph squinted, growing amused at your little jab, yet the black mask covering his mouth hid it from you. The man knew exactly what you meant. You were not used to so much surveillance on your step - on everyone's step, so many eyes set on you as if you had a massive red target on your back. You were not used to armed forces ghosting around your small homely village with a gun resting at an arm's length just waiting to be loaded.

He wondered if it was your first time running into a soldier since the beginning of the occupation. He wondered if you were scared - if your heart was beating against your chest like it was trying to break through the skin. After all he was indeed intimidating - with heavy combat boots and a black uniform that did little to hide his rough figure, the lineage of lean muscle and battered blistered skin that undoubtedly belonged to a man. A man whose hands were still covered in dirt and blood. He could kill you. He could push you around - get some entertainment out of you. He could shove you down and use you like a cheap village whore - and no one would care because that's just how war is. He was serving his country, he needed an outlet, and you just happened to be there. No one would blame him.

He couldn't bring himself to come closer to you. He didn't trust himself to hold back when faced with something so fragile after months of letting his fists and his teeth do the speaking.

"That's lieutenant to you, miss." He barked in a tone that felt familiar - a tone that used to wake him up every morning at 5 for weeks on end. A tone that he could still hear every time he loaded his rifle and let go of the trigger with shaking fingers.

He couldn't be nice to you. He couldn't be nice to anyone in this bloodshed. And yet he heard himself asking you for your name. It hadn't meant anything - it was a long night and he was bored. Lonely, maybe, he couldn't tell his feelings apart very well. You hesitated for a second too long before you finally gave him a clear answer. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard - not just now, but ever.

"Would you mind explaining why you're here so late, miss?" The man tilted his head, trying to understand your unreadable expression - somehow you looked lost in time, striken by fear and grievance. "I believe the general gave direct orders this morning. No one should be out after ten." He paused to take a long, dramatic puff off his cigar. "It's too dangerous. Especially for a pretty little thing like you to be roaming at night." He knew his boldness was making you uneasy, and that he shouldn't derive such obvious pleasure from your discomfort, but he just couldn't help it. He was lonely. He was sick. And most of all, he was a bastard who had already given up on life. He had nothing to lose.

"Truth be told, if you were mine I wouldn't let you out of sight, miss." He grinned, feeling just a bit disgusted with himself. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to scare you. To creep you out so bad you'd never go out alone again. Why he had got so invested so quickly, he also couldn't tell.

"I... I needed a breath of f-fresh air, l-leutenant." You responded quickly, eager to leave this conversation as soon as possible - completely ignoring anything he said. Your initial confidence had evaporated as the wet cold crept into your thin coat. It didn't fit your frame - it was too big on you and it reeked of a man's first proper cologne. The thought of it filled the soldier with unreasonable, hot -red fury, imagining you next to some nameless brat with his hands wrapped around you.

"That's all?" The corners of his lips stretched mockingly as he let his smoke blow into your face - and you had to fight the urge to immediately wave it off.

"Are you, are you implying something, sir?" You fiddled with your fingers nervously, looking anywhere but at Christoph. He found it pathetically adorable. "Just curious." He took another long puff - his breath coming out frozen - white as it hit the icy air. "You don't seem like the brave type to me." His eyes narrowed to two pitch black slits. He must have looked terrifying to you in that moment, and he loved it. "So just what-" He pulled you in by the collar. "Are you doing here, huh?"

You froze in place as if he had pointed his gun to you yet again. You swallowed loudly, trying to come up with an explanation - but nothing came to mind when you were so obviously scared. The soldier could feel your heartbeat - he could hear the blood pumping to your ears as you looked around hopelessly for help that wouldn't come. And just like that the wolf had the rabbit dancing in its own trap.

"Are you just looking for trouble, hmm?" The man reached in to curl his finger around one of your loose locks. He didn't want to make you feel so awfully small - but everything about this situation, from the tremble of your lips to the sheer panic in your eyes was going straight to his cock. "I'm sure that with a face like that you never lacked attention, no?" He tilted his head with predatory malice. "But now all the men bending over backwards for you are off somewhere, dying as we speak. Poor little you - I can imagine just how lonely you are." He pressed his body closer to yours. "The thing is, I am more than willing to play with you in their pl-"

"Please, lieutenant." You couldn't stand to listen to him any longer, a thousand warm pleas already falling off your desperate lips. "Please let me go." Your eyes softened, trying to hide the first sign of hot wet tears. "I need to go home to my siblings. I need to bring them fo-"

"Why should that matter to me, dollface?" It was his turn to interrupt you - voice full of childish glee as he kept up with his petty torment.

"Because - because," You started off, hands shaking into little fists that you knew, realistically, could do the soldiers no damage were you to push against his chest. "Because you're a good man." You mumbled after a while, looking for the right words to say. "And I know that deep down you're kind and brave. That's why you're here now, fighting for all our lives."

You were such a pretty liar, Christoph thought. He could listen to your sugary sweet fairytales all night long, silently praying that they'd become true if he was only able to capture his own little fairy - his own miracle.

"What if I am not the hero, doll?" The man whispered darkly in response, leaning against you until your back hit the tree behind you, trapping you between his stiff body and the pillar. "What if I am here for all the wrong reasons, huh? Just think about it." He lowered his head so it would match your eye level - you were so quiet he wondered if you had forgotten how to breath.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. I have a weapon and a direct permission to shoot at will. I can do whatever the fuck I want." He made sure you could hear every single word clearly. He wouldn't let you faint before he was through with you. "I can fuck you right here in the open - or I can drag you to the barracks and keep you there for as long as I need to. Do you really think anyone would care about some insignificant girl going missin-"

"Please." You repeated, suddenly getting stirn with your pleading, as if you too had nothing to lose. "Let me go - I'd do anything."

His eyes darkened - then lit up with sick, perverse desire. He wanted to echo your words back to you just like a classical villain would - to really drive the point across that he was out for blood. Anything, you say? Anything at all? But he couldn't contain his excitement enough to voice those sadistically banal thoughts. Besides, he could already feel the adrenaline running through his whole body. His heart was beating rhythmically, pumping and alive for the first time in days, weeks, months. He wanted you more than anything. It was that moment he knew he was going to live - he was going to fight and win, and then come back for you as a hero. As your hero, even if in your eyes he would be more of a villain.

A nightmare you'd try to forget - and just when you think you have erased his fingertips off your waist, your face, your neck, he'd come back to steal you away forever.

"Kiss me." Christoph all but snarled, some unfamiliar, needy - greedy ball of emotion settling into his loins as your delicate face twisted into a petrified grimace. You began trembling in his arms, looking around yet again. It was pitch black, no soul in sight. You inhaled deeply, trying to steady your movement to no avail. "A-alright. I-I..." You whispered with difficulty as if simply saying the words was causing you a great deal of pain. And maybe it was, but the soldier could care less. He already knew you were made for him - made to serve him, made to make him happy. "I'll d-do it."

The man growled in satisfaction, taking a small step back. You looked at him, puzzled - your confused face was just as cute as your scared one. He couldn't wait to explore all your reactions - the way you'd squirm and writhe underneath him as he fucked into you restlessly, filling you up with his love over and over again until you were crying for mercy. But that had to wait, he had a war to fight. For now he could settle for a little taste of you to keep him warm during the cold nights. And just like that he tapped his lips, guiding you silently. You felt your cheeks heat up once you finally understood what he meant by that. He wasn't going to kiss you. He wanted you to put in the work.

Your eyes filled up with tears, and you felt silly for becoming so upset over a little kiss - but this was your first kiss, and you had to give it to a monster. It was certainly better than the alternative, with the alternative being rape in a filthy military cottage, but it still made you feel dirty all over. Yet, you had no choice. You took a step towards the man - you could feel the suffocating warmth radiating off his body towards yours, and if the situation wasn't so grim, you might have been grateful for another human's heat in the freezing cold. But now all you could feel was dread.

You stood on your tip toes, a shaky hand reaching out to cup the stranger's face. Cristoph smirked, complecent at your obedience. You licked your lips and slowly, hesitantly pressed them against his, just barely touching at all.

He groaned, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. He grabbed you and pulled you in roughly, squeezing you like a plush toy. He deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth, finding heaven between your soft, sweet lips and broken whimpers. You were so innocent. So lost. He wanted to take you into his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep kissing you until your lips turned blue, until it hurt to speak.

And then you pushed him off just like that, using your own body as a distraction. He tripped backwards, too shocked and lost in sensation to stop you. He smiled at your final act of defiance. It was, of course, adorable and so painfully you, yet it didn't really matter - not in the long run. You had only suceeded in making him want you more.

But that was two years ago. Now the war was finally over. Now he had enough to start a new life. Now he was a free man.

And he was coming back for you.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere soldier

[on-leatheredwings]

False Pretenses (18+)

Yandere ! Damian Wayne x (Fem) Reader

romantic, 18+ > summary: Damian needs an heir someday, and he knows your body can provide that. > tw/cw: stealthing/baby trapping. there is consensual sex under false pretenses, so this could (and should) make this fall under dub- or non-con! there is also a brief mention of somnophilia. Plus, some breeding kink, praise kink. Also some weird thoughts about (cis) women who are fertile being ‘ideal’ and a preference for biological children. Just a warning. > word count: 5088. jesus christ. > [a/n: (smokes a blunt). ] > again 18+ only, damian wayne is 21

So, Damian has a breeding kink.  

You sit in bed (his bed), knees to your chest, trying not to smile.

The covers are wrapped around your bare body as you recall the night prior’s events. 

Last night was the farthest you two have gone physically. You’ve made out, of course. That was in short order after officially becoming a couple, the both of you starved for the other. You’ve groped each other, both over and under your clothes… You’ve given him a handjob… (To his utter dismay that you’ve brought him to orgasm first rather than the reverse.) And last week, you took him in your mouth for the first time. But yesterday night was the first time you had been on the receiving end. 

Now, you are no virgin, but the memory does make you clutch your metaphorical pearls. You didn’t know simple fingering could be so… perverse.

Damian’s two middle fingers are thrusting back and forth into your trembling cunt. Your ears are steaming at the resulting noises filling the air. They’re lewd, and entirely involuntary on your part. Sweat on your temple drips, your torso heaves with shaken breath. Your damp back lies flush against his hard chest, two perfect puzzle pieces. Damien’s chin rests on your shoulder, allowing him to have a beautiful view of the mess you’re making on his slender digits. Viridian eyes have their entire focus on you, utterly fascinated. 

The look in them is enough to make you blush, even if two of his fingers weren’t in you right now.

Sinful, reverent whispers into the shell of your ear marvel about how well you’re doing, how prepared you’ll be to take him afterwards. Damian’s free hand rests on your abdomen, pointedly over your womb.

He’ll fill you. Breed you. After all, you can handle that. You were basically made for it. He knows you’d be perfect at it.

Chin resting on the palm of your hand, you come back to the present. 

Yeah, that was really turning him on, you mull, with almost academic interest. Your lips curl into a catlike grin. How curious!

Hey, you aren’t judging! You can see the appeal. After all, you hadn’t exactly been complaining last night… just caught off guard. 

You sit with your thoughts as Damian washes up in his restroom. 

It is in his bedroom you currently lounge, absentmindedly fiddling with satin sheets. His bed is large enough to drown in. His room is a wash of dark emerald greens and deep blues, with golden accents. On a table sits a sheathed sword, its grip a beautiful gold.

Both of you are college students finishing up your last semester. During the school season, Damian stays in his penthouse. Yes, his penthouse. Why he couldn’t just stay at his billionaire father’s mansion, you don’t know. Bird has to leave the nest sometime, you suppose. 

Slowly lowering your knees and letting your back hit cool sheets, you lie down. You get lost in the ceiling – a beautiful Arabesque pattern is subtly molded across its expanse. Damian’s culture is so cool. Such was a sentiment you had communicated in such words, and he simply kissed your knuckles with a proud curve of his lips, and thanked you for the compliment. You blush.

Ugh. Damian is so cool. 

You start pulling up every uncool thing about him in your mental reservoir. You can’t have him getting a big head, after all. Or rather, can’t have his head getting any bigger.

Hmm… breeding kinkster, breeding kinkster, thy name is Damian Wayne.

You blink dumbly.

Breeding... breeding…

Pregnancy.

Your body stiffens. 

Wait. Does this… does that mean something? Is that like. A thing? What people call foreshadowing? You sit up, disturbed.

At that exact moment, Damian saunters out of the washroom. His eyes catch yours immediately, as if drawn by magnetism. He is still shirtless, navy blue sweatpants looking entirely artful on his tall, bronze body. His usual shrewd expression relaxes at the sight of you.

At the sight of him, your heart skips a beat, and not out of admiration for his looks. It was like you had been caught red-handed, speculating things. Sometimes you swear he knows what you’re thinking.

He stalks toward you, eyes loving. He places a kiss on your lips, punctuating it with “Good morning, my love.” 

“G-good morning,” you return, painfully aware of your nakedness under his sheets. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He places kisses on your bare shoulder, trailing down until he’s kissing your hand. While normally you’d be melting, you remain stiff.

Damian pecks one last kiss when you blurt, “Do you want kids?”

You inwardly smack your forehead. Well, you weren’t one to shy away from a tough conversation. For better or worse.

Damian stirs, blinking at you.

You continue, trying not to wilt, “Do… Do you want kids? I-is that something you want? Like, someday?”

How the hell did this not come up sooner, you don’t know.

… Well. 

Perhaps it hadn’t come up because your relationship was fairly new. You’ve known Damian for five years now. And for the last two, your relationship had been under a taxing, soul-sucking ‘will-they-won’t-they-it’s-complicated’ vague denomination for quite a while. Both of you knew each of you had feelings for the other. But Damian confessing his vigilante secret and his assassin past was quite the double whammy. 

Damian was resolute in keeping you and himself safe and alive, but you had to think critically about a future with him. Eventually you said fuck it, throwing caution to the wind because you loved him, and you wanted him. And he, you.

Officially, it’s only been three months of dating – and you both are young. You both are in your last year of college. Talking about kids felt … fast.

Damian remains silent, face tentative. Having been leaning over you, he now sits on his bed, looking thoughtful. 

“... Is that something you want?”

You sigh. Of course he’d turn it on you.

“I…” Your throat feels tight. God, why can’t we just enjoy a damn honeymoon phase… “I mean…? I’m… open to it. But yeah, it seems kinda… Like. I don’t know. That’s a lot right now.” Your voice is uncharacteristically small and meek. 

You should stop there. Keep it vague. Keep things light. But you know which side of the fence you’re leaning on, and so should he.

“A-and you know– like, you know I didn’t have a good relationship with my mother– I just. Don’t know. If ever. I guess?” 

You sit in awkward silence with him. You pray God just decides to smite you where you sit, because Christ. That was horrible.

Things like this could break a relationship, you know. And your chest clenches painfully at the thought of separating from Damian.

Damian takes in your words, nodding. He’s usually so easy to read – you’re well-versed in Wayne-nese by now, having spent a lot of time with him and the rest of his family. But he seems to be withholding his inner thoughts intentionally from you. Your heart sinks. 

You nudge him with your feet.

“Damiii. Do you?”

Damian’s eyes glimmer with characteristic haughtiness, instantly making you warm. He crawls forward, hands sinking into the bed by your hips. He nips at your nose before locking lips. It’s a sweet, sweet kiss that’s like candy, until you feel the stroke of his hot tongue. You moan freely, not caring that he’ll likely tease you later for being so easy.

He retreats, licks his lips. 

“You fiend,” you blurt. The insult rolls off him.

“What I want is to be with you.” You swallow dryly, heart thumping like a chorus line. You wouldn’t be surprised if Damian could see literal hearts in your eyes. 

He puts a hand on your knee, stroking softly. You feel mollified at the action. Damian only did that when everything was alright. 

“We’ve got class. If you get dressed fast enough, I’ll buy you that confectionary you’re always wanting.”

You stick out your tongue. “It’s a frappe,” you say, adding before he could say otherwise, “and yes, it is real coffee.”

Back from class, you decided to read on his living room recliner while he drew in his study. Damian indeed sketched, as he did everyday. Unsurprisingly, you were the subject, along with your favorite flowers. But Damian chose his study, rather than drawing you from life, because he also wanted to check if today was the day he thought it was. He opens the drawer of his wooden desk, papers neatly filed. He picks up a sleek black folder that spends most of its time laid in hiding underneath.

… 

So, for the record, Damian did not lie. 

He merely obfuscated an answer with a truth. 

He does want to be with you above anything, and if children were out of the question due to natural causes… sure, he would learn to get over it. His brothers are all adopted and are as legitimate heirs to his father as he. But as it stands, Damian needs an heir someday and he knows your body can provide that. 

… A not-insignificant part of him quietly admits that he simply wants his children to be blood-related. He’d never express this to anyone. His brothers are adopted, so how could he? But instilled from infancy into Damian was that he was the result of two genetically perfect individuals. 

So why shouldn’t his child be the genetic amalgamation of you and him, both of whom are also two perfect beings? The thought of impregnating you sounds… good. Ideal. Natural, even. Call him a romantic.

When opened, inside the folder is a calendar for the year, with no notes or writing. Some days are blank. Some are highlighted in either red or green.

His eyes skirt down to the current day of the calendar, and Damian's pleased to see it is indeed among a week that's painted in green. You've ovulated, and the six days afterward are an ideal window. 

You've said in passing that your cycle is pleasantly regular and Damian's past investigations have proved this to be true. Not that he asks anymore. He snorts, remembering how last time you looked at him incredulously and asked if he was a Republican, since he was “all up in your womb.” 

However, you do keep menstrual products in your bag when he’s predicted it. You also spend quite some time at his place, so he does note when there’s pad wrappers in his bathroom trash bin.

Last year, the day he knew you were the one – his One – he brewed you a tea before bed. Its sedative contents ensured you wouldn't wake, and you were out like a light within minutes. So, Damian pulled off your pants, and collected a specimen from you as you slept. Of course, he did so with sterile, sexless precision –  Damian wasn’t a pervert or deviant. He sniffs. He’s better than that. Even if his hands did linger.

Test results proved you were healthy and fertile. He recalls this with pride. As expected, you were perfect in all things. Damian closes the folder and ruminates in his seat. 

Damian had assumed so, but now you’ve confirmed with him that you’re unsure about raising children based on your history with your own family. He hears you. As if he doesn’t have his own slew of mommy problems. If you bring it up again, he’ll wave you off. You’ll be an amazing mother. You just need a push, and you’ll be confident soon enough.

His fingers steeple. Hm… There’s the issue of having children before marriage… He doesn’t know how you feel about children outside of wedlock, but it’s not as though you’re very traditional. You don’t seem to have a problem with the fact that’s how he was conceived. It’s not a big concern regardless, because Damian is going to marry you anyway. If it’s an issue, you both could marry in as soon as a month. 

It all works out. 

It’s perfect, he thinks.

Damian puts up his sketchbook and folder alike, heading to his bedroom to change. It was about time he put his plans into action, and he knows just how to usher it into fruition.

“That doesn’t look like a very satisfying read,” Damian says, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. 

You don’t look up from your book, your cringing face only deepening. 

“Well, that’s because it isn’t. I was lied to! By my favorite Youtuber! By BookTok! And fuck it, by the government–”

"My love."

“You ask for one slow burn rivals-to-lovers and instead you get him fawning over her within three chapters–”

“My love,” he repeats, though amused.

“And let’s not even start about how this prose is abysmal–”

“My love.”

Since it was said oh-so-sweetly, you look up from your book. 

Damian is... oh. He's in that outfit he knows you like. The League of Assassins one that's sleeveless, dark, and form fitting with gorgeous gold trim. It turns his body into a marvelous painting of black and gold on the tanned backdrop that is his skin. And you’ve told him so… Except his eyes. His beautiful, intense green eyes. He straightens from how he leans against the wall, stepping closer.

You toss your book, not even watching its trajectory. It takes out a vase on the way down and you still don’t spare it a glance.

"Damian Wayyyyyne," you sing, hopping up to stalk toward your prey. Your hands land on his chest. Hello, tig ol' biddies, you cheer internally. It takes considerable restraint to keep from saying it aloud – you know Damian gets all flustered with his delicate sensibilities. “Why, are you trying to seduce me?”

An elegant, thick brow rises in amusement. Well, that was exceedingly easier than expected.

“That depends entirely on whether it’s working.”

“Oh, it’s working,” you say, running your hands down to his abdomen. His hands rise to capture yours. 

“Tt.” 

Damian takes steps backward, leading you by the hands into his bedroom. Your leer grows even bigger. Oh, yes. You two lock eyes the whole while until you reach the foot of his bed, merriment and attraction dancing in both pairs.

You push him onto the bed, on all fours above him. You dive down for a deep kiss, tongue eager for a dance. Eventually it’s you who separates to breathe, panting lightly. The sight below you is one for sore eyes, Damian Wayne lying with eyes glazed with lust. He’s acting awfully agreeable, and you can’t say you don’t like it.

“Habibti, I want you.” Damian slides his hand to cup your crotch. You shiver, at his touch and his words.

“And you have me,” you say, voice warm. “Habibti.”

He smirks, probably thinking your accent could use some work. 

“It’s Habibi, coming from you.” 

You nod shyly, but you can have a lesson later. You’re about to slip off your pants when he brings your hand in between your bodies, placing it on his crotch. You sharply inhale. He’s hard, and straining against sinful, elastic tights. 

“... And I mean, I want all of you.”

Your brows rise. So, he wanted to go all the way today? You feel your cheeks and crotch flood with heat. You find it easier to nod your head rapidly, lest you start barking. At your agreement, Damian’s face washes over with anticipation. You’re glad it’s not just you over the moon at the prospect.

You both rip your clothes off manically, laughing and elbows butting into each other’s sides. Damian expertly flips positions, boxing you in with his knees. You exclaim in surprise, a sound that drifts into shaky breaths and mewls of pleasure as he runs his fingers over your breasts, your stomach… He wets his fingers with his mouth before his digits start circling your clitoris.

You inhale sharply, mesmerized by the cyclical motion. Never until Damian has sex felt so flustering. Just watching his administrations was overwhelming, let alone the feeling– Your head reels back from an electric shock of pleasure. You gasp into the air.

"W-wait... wait, you have a condom, right…?" you whisper, though you have half a mind to just go without. You need him.

Damian tensed. 

"I... I don't like how it feels." You raise a brow. You've heard condoms can feel like a second skin, especially nowadays. Then again, men were always complaining about them. It's not like you had the necessary equipment to confirm, so hell if you knew how it felt.

You place your hands on his cheeks, and his hands ghost over your wrists. You bite your lip.

"Well… Just this once? And if... it's that important to you, maybe I'll get on birth control–" 

His head jerks as if struck, his brows furrowed.

“No.”

You stare, agape. There’s a small pause, both of you staring at the other. Damian’s face looks as though he’s betrayed himself. Your boyfriend didn’t strike you as so… traditionalist, to say the least. Lord knows you wouldn’t be with him if he was… so you will hear him out before nurturing any suspicion. 

Sitting up on your forearms, you ask, “... What do you mean ‘no’?” 

"I mean… I…” Damian sighs, looking utterly frustrated with himself. “I mean, you don’t need to.” 

You blink and raise a brow, unimpressed. 

“... Because?”

Damian’s jaw hardens. He grits out, “Because, I'm… sterile." 

You flinch, purely from surprise. Damian merely stares, eyes narrowed in what you presume is annoyance at himself. 

Uh. Okay, hello brand new information? Why hadn't this come up before? Well, it is pretty sensitive information. And since you hadn’t had penetrative sex yet, why would he have brought it up? And today was the first day you had even thought about kids. It… makes sense. 

"Y-you are...?" You settle down, much like a cat whose hair is lowering from standing on end. "Okay… okay...” Damian remains stony, but he cringes at your clear relief. 

Mistaking it as embarrassment, you quickly stroke his cheek. “No, baby, I'm sorry about that." You could assume it's quite emasculating. Men and their complexes about performing and wow, suddenly the breeding kink makes sense.

“So, you can’t…” you trail off. Knock me up? remains gracefully unsaid.

Damian nods stiffly. He really does hate lying to you like this. "I've been told it's very... unlikely." In reality, Damian knows his sperm count, and he's verified there should be no issues with reproduction. You both are in peak condition.

Despite the heat raging in your pants and your body begging can we just fuck already, you furrow your brows. All of this sounded fine, but it was still just… you needed specifics. To be safe. After all, there’s no rush, is there? Even if your pulsating cunt would beg to differ, painfully aware that two naked people were in a bed not doing naked-people-things.

"When did you get tested? And w-why? I mean, you're only twenty-one." 

He waves his hand, snorting with his typical condescension. "I'm an heir to a dynasty – as soon as I was of age, it behooved us to know." 

Us. That’s not a you-and-me “us”. You cringe, thinking about Talia and Ra's Al Ghul making it their business to know Damian's fertility. What an invasion of privacy for him… And no wonder he thought nothing of being in your body’s business as well.

"Well, unlikely is still possible, right?” You fear any surprises. Lord knows it would be just your luck to get fertilized by the un-fertilizable. You point at him. “And we should be using condoms anyway! It's not just pregnancy we should be afraid of."

Damian wants to assure you how insanely low the chances are of an infertile male getting anybody pregnant, and is about to do so, when his eyes narrow. 

"Is there a reason we would need to protect against venereal diseases? There are none between the two of us." You flinch at his tone, colored with the acidity of jealousy. Suspicion.

The implication (accusation?) causes you to glare at him. 

“...Yeahhh, okay,” you reply coldly. “Moment's ruined.” 

You push him off you, but in a panic, he hisses your name. You flinch. At your wary expression, the color drains from his face.

“I… I’m sorry,” he says, brows furrowed and looking utterly ashamed. “I… I’m sorry.” You don’t meet his eyes, simply nodding. He places kisses on your wrist, shoulder, nose. Damian sometimes had his moods, although he was truly confusing you today.

“It’s fine, really,” you reassure. And it’s true, it was mainly the heat of the moment. You were sure Damian could never really scare you.

Your words don’t persuade the shame and fear out of his eyes or lighten the heaviness of his brow. You smile, huffing. Taking his face into your heads, you kiss him chastely on the forehead, nose tip, both cheeks. Until you punctuate the action with a kiss to his lips.

“Damian, really.”

Damian nods stiffly. He’ll never truly forgive himself, but he’s probably okay enough for now.

You shift on the bed, and there’s the telltale sensitivity between your thighs. Damn it. You still want him. You two stare at each other, still very naked and aroused. You turn the idea in your head … He’s sterile, right? And pregnancy is your only reservation. 

As if hearing your thoughts, Damian’s face fills with determination. 

“... I-it’s–” okay, let’s have sex anyway, you are going to finish. 

“I’ll do it,” he interrupts. You blink. He leans toward you, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. You’re sure he’s about to kiss you, when he suddenly withdraws. 

Your eyes catch the glimmer of some metallic object. He holds a silver square wrapper in between his fingers, likely plucked from beneath his pillow.

You look at him, and he says frankly, “I’ll do anything for you.” 

You melt… before grinning, catlike. “My, my. So it seems Mr. I-Don’t-Like-Condoms still prepares a contingency plan. Very Son of Batman of you–”

“Shut it,” he groans, dotting kisses along your neck to make you do just that.

You feel relief flood your bloodstream. Then it is quickly replaced with raging desire. Oh, finally. 

“Lay back,” he says, too soft to be an order. You do so without fanfare, a little curious as to why he’s not following you. Then you see him scoot back, feel him hike up your lower half, and you feel a thrill of excitement. 

You squeak, feeling your ass leaving the bed entirely. A pillow is quickly placed underneath, and you are feeling quite pampered.

There’s curious licks along your labia, to which you twitch.

Damian finds his way to your clitoris, suckling and stroking heavily with his tongue.

“Hhnngh,” you speak. Keep going. Right there. 

“Truly, a poet,” Damian’s voice says, muffled. You bite your lip, unable to retort because it feels too good. Damian is curious, experimenting. You know he’s gamifying this, responding and changing his strategies entirely on what draws the most unintelligible noise out of you. He slips his tongue in, and you grasp at his hair. He responds by pumping it back and forth.

Eventually, you do fear he’ll bring you to orgasm with this alone, when you both have more plans for the evening. 

You wipe a layer of sweat from your temple, panting. “I’m ready. I’m ready,” you say, tugging meekly at short black locks.

Damian hums, and the vibration hits you straight in the clit. He sits up on his forearms, lips delightfully messy. His cheeks are ruddy and his brows are pinched with effort, chest heaving for breath. He looks very good like this. 

“I’m ready,” you say again. Damian doesn’t need to be told twice. Your head hits the back of the pillow, and you close your eyes as you catch your breath. You hear the rustling and discarding of a condom wrapper. Damian positions himself accordingly, hands sunk into the bed on either side of your waist.

“Ready?” he asks. His eyes hold… shyness, if you can believe it. You stroke his cheek, grinning. 

“Always ready for you,” you respond. You make sure to sit up. You want to see.

You watch, fascinated, as the head of Damian’s cock slowly disappears into your body. The consonance between seeing it and feeling it only stokes the fire of your arousal. 

You moan openly, the sound making your ears heat. Damian dares to chuckle, and you claw his back in retaliation. 

“Oh, shut up, and go deeper,” you breathe, eyes fluttering with pleasure. You didn’t realize how much you missed this. The feeling of being filled, of being full. You didn’t realize you could miss something you never had as well – Damian felt like he belonged in you. You feel every inch of you work to accommodate his sudden presence.

“And how can I deny such a request?” he gasps aloud, voice strained. 

You feel more than a little pride that you were among the few who could make Damian bend to your whims with this (or any) level of subservience. The proud, proud Damian Wayne. The same Damian that sinks into you further, into your tight, hot wetness. He finally bottoms out and you exhale.

“You’re… a perfect… fit,” you say, dazed and in between pants.

Little do you know the resulting pang that shoots into his groin at that statement. He grasps you harder, maybe even enough to bruise. He needs you badly. He needs to fill you badly.

Damian leans even more forward, and you squeal. You’re just along for the ride at this point. He does all the necessary machinations to fold you in half, thighs bending back.

"W-wait," you stutter, but it falls on deaf ears. 

He’s really stretching the limits of your flexibility here. Before you know it, you’re in a mating press. 

“Damian,” you moan, because you’re too overstimulated to say much else.

“You’re perfect,” he says into the shell of your ear. “You can take this. You were made for this.” You nod, slack-jawed. He rocks into you, skin slapping against skin as your pelvises meet. Your eyes flutter and roll back.

“I could spend forever filling you up. I could spend forever watching it spill out of you.” 

You close your eyes, cheeks aflame, much too embarrassed by his perverse whispers. You feel … almost ashamed at how much it arouses you. Almost. Majorly, it’s fulfilling a dark fantasy you didn’t know you liked.

“... Come inside me,” you breathe, unable to say anything more. You were embarrassed enough. He was using a condom, it was assumed he would be. But hopefully he’d see you were participating in his little fantasy, that you liked it too…

His thrusts are unyielding, and they only get harder, faster, more desperate as the time passes. Damian finishes with a groan, his abs clenching and flexing with effort.

You welcome it, taking it all because he’s right, you were made for this. In this moment, it’s like you were entirely made for this.

To your surprise, there’s sudden stroking on your throbbing clit, and that brings you to the finish line as well.

Your head jerks back violently, body snapping to attention as you ride the wave of an orgasm. A gasp by your ear. You’re clenching around Damian’s length, wringing him dry.

He collapses, narrowly keeping himself from squashing you flat. The two of you are a tangle of sweaty limbs, chests heaving.

“You’ve got to get out of me sometime,” you tease.

You’ve both been lying like this, too taxed to move for maybe ten minutes now. 

“Is that so? Honestly, I could die here without complaint,” Damian says, and you get the feeling he’s dead serious. Nevertheless, he rolls away. He does not let you go far, wrapping his arms around you. You shiver at the feeling of him unsheathing himself, suddenly feeling empty.

… And wet. Wetter than expected.

You keep from flushing. Damn, you were really enamored with him, it seems.

You rub your thighs together, relishing in the feeling. Until you pause.

… No, like, you’re really wet. 

You slowly sit up, investigating. To your surprise, you’re leaking… cum. And clearly not just your own. It’s smattered down your thighs, sticky. When you pause and can literally feel the cum drip out of you, you exclaim.

“Fuck… fuck.” You put a hand to your dripping cunt, and are surprised when it indeed comes back wet and pearlescent white. It’s for real. 

“What’s wrong?” you hear, but you hardly register it.

You pull at a scrap of wrinkled plastic, pulling it out. The condom is shredded. It broke. 

“Damian. It broke.”

You stare at it dumbly. It broke. You feel the onset of fear creep by… it’s held at bay, when you feel Damian hushing you, stroking your shoulders.

Damian holds you, asks why are you worrying…? He told you there’s no way. He can’t, he’s sterile. 

You dumbly nod, combating fear by reasoning with yourself. Well… you were about to have sex without it anyway, after all. What does it matter if the condom broke? 

You suppose it’s just the shock of a failsafe… well, failing to save you. So why do you feel so disconcerted? What’s this niggling feeling, you wonder. You stare at your inner thighs. His cum paints you like a mark.

“It’s nigh impossible,” Damian states. He’s doing what he does best – nullifying your emotions with facts. He pulls you back into his arms, your back against his chest. “The condom was really for your peace of mind. It’s not like it did anything.”

You don’t speak, simply staring at the condom in your hand. You nod. 

“Really, there’s no point in wearing condoms from now on anyway. They break.” 

Damian’s fingers trace circles on the bone of your shoulders. “I mean, they’re practically pointless. And either way–”

With his long reach, he grabs his phone off the nightstand. He pulls up an article, illustrating the likelihood of him successfully inseminating you. 

“See?” he says. “It’s not a factor.”

Unwilling to let whatever strange funk you’ve entered ruin the afterglow of your orgasm, you nod again. You turn your head halfway, smiling. Of course, without missing a beat, Damian kisses you sweetly. 

To hell with the condom. And to hell with getting stuck in your head. Lord knows you overthink everything. It’s as Damian says. 

His fingers dance on your abdomen, and it tickles. 

It’s impossible.

#yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam #damian wayne x reader #girllllll #i just have to post this already im tired #mine

[lazyjellyfish300]

Just a little carried away...

Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader

TW: MINORS DNI, PWP, SMUT(UNPROTECTED P IN V, THIGH RIDING, USE PROTECTION Y'ALL, ORAL M Receiving, FINGERING, CREAM PIE, CONSENSUAL NON CON- SEXUAL ACTIVITY YOU DIDN'T AGREE ON AT FIRST BUT YOU QUICKLY GIVE IN... PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND SKIP IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE THINGS ❤️ YOU. HAVE. BEEN. WARNED)

A/N: I'M SORRY Y'ALL. Based on this post I saw....dropping this and running away....I had to. 💀idk if this is any good or what but oh well. My next piece is angsty to give a little break in between filth but here's another pile of smut nobody asked for... Word count 1.3k

"Fuck...me..." Miguel breathes out as you unclip your bra, leaving your upper body bare for him as you sit in his lap. He puts both hands on your hips and moves you so you're straddling his thigh instead. He leans forward taking your breast in his mouth, while he gently tweaks the nipple of the other between his fingers.

"Shit..." You breathe out and start humping your clothed pussy against his thigh, loving the friction his leg is offering you.

Once he feels you grinding on him, his hands fly from your tits to your ass, squeezing and using it to maneuver you and grind you down harder on his thigh, causing you to let out a high pitched moan.

"Mmmm," you bite your lip, looking at Miguel through half lidded eyes. Miguel pulls the top of your leggings down so he can watch your pussy hump against him, the thin fabric of your panties the only thing barring his vision.

His lips fall open at the sight and he leans back and closes his eyes, but they snap open again when he feels you begin to hungrily kiss his neck, your fingers snaking themselves in his coffee colored locks.

He sucks in air between his teeth, letting out a loud moan which causes you to wet the spot you're riding on his thigh even more with your arousal.

"Fuck baby, fuck...." He whimpers, looking up at you. You feel so powerful over him in this moment, as you continue to move and roll your hips in his lap. Dangling what you know damn well both of you want in this moment above his head.

"Yes, baby....?" You tease with a breathy sigh, leaning back in to give him more wet kisses along his neck.

"I....mhnnn..." His voice is cut off by more moans that escape him as your hand moves to the bulge in his sweatpants.

"Yeah...?" Your tone is a little more desperate, your body begging for his cock.

"You're making it so hard not to fuck you..." Miguel gasps as you seize his hard cock through his clothes.

You pause and pull away from his neck for a moment and look at him, nothing but pure want is saturating his expression as he wets his lips.

Your eyes remain locked on him as you toy with his cock, causing him to grit his teeth as he can't bring himself to look away from you, either.

"So... fuck me then....baby..." Your voice lowers to a whisper as you free his cock from his pants, feeling the veiny rough texture in your hand. Your mouth waters as you gently get up, sinking to your knees and you begin running your tongue in circles around his sensitive tip which had already begun to drip in anticipation.

You moan as you taste him and nearly choke when he thrusts into the back of your throat, a sharp "Fuck" rolling off his tongue. He looks down at you, his expression absolutely drunk and desperate. "Baby...I wanna fuck you..." he says through clenched teeth.

"Do you have a condom, sweetheart?" You ask sweetly with a pause, looking up at him with your head still in his lap and his cock in your hand, painting your lips with his tip, planting a soft kiss into it as you remain fixated on him.

Miguel gulps, his large Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Fuck....No, I don't..."

You let out a little scoff and then rest your forehead on his bare leg, chuckling in exasperation.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me babyyy..." You look up at him.

"Maybe...just a little bit...let me put the tip in...?" he whispers, starting to play with your hair a little.

"Miguellll..." You shake and hang your head, and he brings his fingers underneath your chin to look up at him while he starts to pump his cock.

"Please, baby...do you trust me, I'll pull out....?" He whispers.

You look at how pretty his face looks right now as you're on your knees, utter desire lining his pupils. Ruby practically leaking out of his dazzling eyes.

"I promise baby, if you don't want to, I'll stop...." He assures you, pumping himself harder.

Those full lips of his fall open, his head cocking slightly to the side, and you feel your thighs clench.

"Fuck...okay baby...just the tip, swear?" You say, scrambling to stand up and strip your leggings and panties off so you're completely bare.

"Holy fuck...." Miguel is momentarily thrown off by your naked body but regains focus. "Yes baby, I swear..."

His hands eagerly rest on your hips and bob you over his erect tip. His lips are still parted as he gazes into your face, his jaw opening even more as the tip of his cock makes contact with your wet entrance, and watches the slight grimace on your face as he slowly splits you open.

"Baby..." you groan a little, eyes shutting as you feel the sensation of being stretched by his cock.

"I've got you baby..." Miguel pants. He bites his lip and looks down at his cock gently disappearing inside and bucks his hips a little higher without warning, causing his dick to penetrate you a little more, making you gasp in alarm.

"Baby! Too much!" Your nails dig into his shoulders and he mutters and grips your thighs tightly in response.

"Baby...that......oh my God...."

Miguel chuckles as he watches you give in and roll your head back and tug the hairs on the nape of his neck a little harder.

Miguel starts fucking you with half his dick pumping into you steadily. "Do you like this, baby?"

"Baby..." You whine, and Miguel leans forward and peppers kisses all across your chest, keeping his strokes agonizingly short.

"Fuck....oh jesus....nghhhhh...." you pant, starting to move your hips on your own, making Miguel sit back as you take the reins.

"Yeah, baby?" Miguel smirks and twitches his dick while inside you, reducing you to a whimper.

"I......need all of you, Mig..." you beg, the notion of protection and your conditions earlier long forgotten. His cock is tooooo fucking good.

Miguel groans a little. "Mmmmm yeah? You want the rest of my cock?"

"Pleaseee...." you answer.

"You sure, cutie?" He teases, knowing fully well what your answer will be. "What happened to just the tip..."

"It feels so good..." You whine, interrupting him. "More baby, baby please...."

Miguel inhales sharply. "Okay sweetheart...."

You sink the rest of the way down his length with his assistance. He rolls his hips up even further, making you fall forward at the sudden twinge of pain from him hitting your cervix.

He catches you and leans you on his shoulder, holding you in a bear hug as he continues to fuck you. "Got you, beautiful....you're doing great..."

You press your lips into his shoulder, as he continues to roughly fuck you in his lap.

"Fuck yeah....oh fuck....baby....yes, harder please...." You start to stutter in his ear, the sweat from his body starting to coat your chest.

He grants your request and groans as he starts thrusting at a quicker pace. "I'm gonna cum soon, baby..." he mumbles, holding you in place.

You take his cock over and over, your breathing getting heavier and heavier as you feel him pound you.

"Want you to cum in me..."

Miguel moans. "fffuck...baby I..."

"Cum in me...." You repeat firmly, your breaths starting to stagger along with his thrusts that are jolting you, causing your voice to shake.

-----

Hours later you've lost track of how many times he's cummed in you. You pant and stare at the ceiling after what feels like round 8, chest wet with sweat, your vision fuzzy.

Miguel's body, his cock, how good and dirty this night has been is the only thing on your mind.

He sits up a little and plants a kiss into your temple as his fingers make their way to your puffy, overstimulated pussy lips, gathering the dripping cum and stuffing it back inside, stroking the velvet of your walls, making you groan again.

"You wasting any?" He chuckles, leaning over to kiss you again.

"No, baby. Never..."

"That's my girl..."

----

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