#tw: dub con

[diejager]

may i ask stalker!simon taking advantage of his sweetheart with a gun? 👀

Stalker!Simon, hmmmmm :)

Surprise Visit

Pairing: Stalker!Ghost x reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, stalking, gun, obsession, rough oral sex, blowjob, face fucking, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1k

You’ve walked this path multiple times, every night and every morning, over and over again. You knew this path like the palm of your hand, having taken it all your life. Granted, you had changed street from time to time for a change of normalcy, but it was always the same block or side of the city you took to get to and fro work and home. You were comfortable with your little life, slightly bored by how inactive you were, but you wouldn’t trade it for any kind of trouble.

So it was a surprise - was it truly? You’d grown so comfortable that you stopped keeping your guard up - when you were toughly pushed into your apartment the moment your locked clicked open. You tumbled in, eyes widened and ready to scream out for help, when the man covered your mouth, pressing his weight on yours. You shook, fearfully breathing through your nose as the door closed behind you, your only escape blocked by a heavy mass over you, hand clamped around your cheeks and holding you down. 

You hear him shush you, a deep, baritone voice that cooed at your teary eyes, his small praises at your frightful expression. His words dripped with adoration, a sickly and dark affection that made your skin crawl. You should have looked before opening your door. You should have been more caution in a world where both men and women prowled to attack one another, those disgusting and desperate ones that would do anything to get a taste. If he wanted money, you’d give it all to him, you valued your life more than—

“Stay quiet for me, love, ” he rasped, his hot breath hitting your ear, feeling your side before he slipped a hand under his jacket, “Behave, yeah?”

He pulled a gun, the dreadful click of the safety acting as a warning to you, a deterrent to stop you from acting out —from misbehaving. He cocked his gun rather than repeating his words and you nodded hastily, or as best as you could with his bruising grip on your face. He turned you around and peered down at you from his crooked nose, his dark chocolate eyes seemed almost black, a devouring pit that drew your eyes to his. Gun pointed at your head, he motioned you to your knees, kneeling between his spread legs, running his other hand through your mess of locks. 

“Good girl, ” he groaned, pulling you to face his growing bulge, his cock tenting the seams of his pants. He ground against your lips, rutting your face with low huffs and pants, hissing when your nose nudged it, “Pull my cock out.”

You swallowed down your hesitance when you caught the red gleam in his eyes, shaky hands palming his jeans for the zipper, pulling his pants down his hips and watched the wet patch growing on his grey briefs. He grunted at your slow pace, impatiently pressing the muzzle to your temple and only loosening his hold on your hair when he cock bounced out, the heaviness of it making his length hang between his thighs. 

“Suck.”

Having no choice, you licked your dried lips to ease your anxiety, wrapping them around his leaky tip and running your tongue over his slit, tasting the salty tang of his pre. Your stomach rolled in disgust, the threat of food and stomach acid running up your throat screaming louder in your mind. Willing yourself to finish this quickly, hoping he’d leave after you gave… gave him a blowjob, you sunk further down his length. Staring up at his masked face, locked between his legs with his skull-painted mask and dangerous eyes.

He was thick and veiny, the burn of it’s throb churning your stomach as you took in more and more until you almost choked. He huffed at your inability to take more than half of him, narrowing his eyes at the tears running down your cheeks when he abruptly thrust down your throat, head thrown back at your choke, throat swallowing around his twitching head. 

“Fuck, ” a low moan slipped from his tongue, his hips moving back and forth, taking in your desperate cries and gagging while he took from you, “Always knew you had a hot mouth. Bloody tight.”

You could hardly breathe with the rough drive of his hips, ramming his cock so deeply that you could taste him on the back of your throat and in your guts. You could fight and struggle, but wouldn’t be able to stop him, to escape his treatment or run away when he had a hard grip on your head, a gun in his hand and blocked the door. All you could do was cry and take it, appease him in hopes that he wouldn’t kill you if he was satisfied.

And it seemed he was, taking such a liking to your tear-streaked face, swollen lips wrapped around the girth of his cock and nose buried in his messy bush while he took and took, bartering your throat until it’d bruised. He came down your throats with a few more thrusts, staring you down his nose while he slipped as deep as he could. You choked on his heady cum, roped spurting from the tip and filled your stomach with an uncomfortable amount, it was hot and bitter, and there were so, so much that it spilled from your lips, dripping down your chin and staining jeans. 

You gasped when he pulled out, somewhat happy that you had swallowed his cum. You cough and sputtered, folded at his feet as you sobbed, babbling pleas to be let off now that you’d fulfilled his sick fantasy. He only crouched down, running his hands through your hair like he wanted to comfort you, tenderly petting you for the favour you did.

“You did good, love, ” he praised, a chuckle rumbling off his shoulder, proud and gleeful. He even put his gun away, “This stays between us, understood? You can keep our little secret, yeah, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes, ” you rasped, signing your soul away to the devil in a balaclava.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 smut #simon riley x reader #stalker!ghost #dark cod #tw: dark content #dark content #dead dove do not eat #tw: dub con #tw: non con #mw2 ghost #ghost smut #ghost x reader

[ddeadly-succubus]

Thinking about Eddie chasing you through the woods and being generous by giving you a 2 minute head start, but now he’s rapidly catching up to you. When he catches you, he ties your hands behind your back and instructs you to bend over a picnic table.

You have some idea of what he might do, but you weren’t expecting him to shove his cock inside you as brutally and violently as he did. You try to protest, tell him it’s hurting. But Eddie pushes your head into the picnic table and tells you to shut the fuck up and take him just like you were made to.

“You look so pretty all tied up and - fuck - helpless like this” he groans, cock hitting your g spot just perfectly before he spills his hot sticky cum inside you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #i was high when i wrote this #tw: dub con

[yorshie]

Ritual in Midnight Blue

Bayverse Foot Leo x Reader

Warning: SFW as in there's not smut, but this one shot is exploring darker themes. Dub con, fear of violence, basically a relationship under coercion. Wolf x rabbit vibes

Song used as reference: I know I’m a wolf by discovery of an afterlife

There was a certain ritual to it, even if the shadows of the little unknowns clung to the shapes and curves of him, tinted every gesture and phrase he offered. The weight of each interaction was a small pebble placed on the center of your chest, a combination of weight that made each breath a struggle, an echo of his heavy hand around your throat.

You never heard his arrival. In all things he was silent, a mere breeze floating through your room until he drew back whatever curtain he hid himself with, whatever magic he wielded that allowed him to pass unseen. Between one blink and the next the mundane feel of your home would peel away, leaving a dream like countenance in his wake.

It was late when you stepped out of your shower and into the little hallway that connected to your living room, tiredness pulling at your limbs and navigating more so by memory than any visual cue, when your foot stopped just shy of where the soft yellow light of your bathroom gave way deep blue.

The old clock you thrifted a few months ago was loud in the dark, the tic tic tic of the iron hand moving around the only sound beyond the gurgle of water passing through pipes. Normal sounds, but the hair along the nape of your neck lifted, the ghost of a breath glancing over the thin skin. You swallowed heavily, every muscle tightening to attention at the thought of what you’d find waiting for you by the window in your living room. That he was waiting for you.

It was a struggle to pick out the shape of him against the blue-black shadows that blanketed the corners of the room. They swallowed up every detail, until you’d half convinced yourself you were staring at your empty armchair. 

The ruse was broken when he turned his head just right and the lamplight outside your window glanced off his irises. The points of blue shine gave nothing away as he watched you step fully into the room, and your mind turned to the usual comparison of a wolf deciding a rabbit’s fate.

It was always like this, every time he followed you home. A long moment of silence when you fancied he was internally struggling, arguing against whatever want curled in his chest. You often wondered, eyes drifting to the dark armor, the swords strapped across his back, if this would be your last night. If his sense of duty would outweigh whatever conflict was brewing deep within him.

He took up too much space, too much oxygen in your little room, and as the silence lengthened you turned inwards, mind following a steady path to the tune of the metal clock hands, back to the night he first assessed you.

The night you almost died.

Your gaze trailed down to his hands, the three fingers almost hidden completely by the gauntlets covering them, remembering the steady way he pressed the flat of his blade to your throat, the strength corded in his grip when he had your wind pipe in his palm, and entertained the thought that you were already dead. That he had killed you the night you’d been too stupid to walk away. These midnight meetings were a sad farce of an afterlife, but every brush with him felt a little bit like death, a little bit like borrowed time. Your life belonged to him, after all. He held the hands of the clock your heart beat to firmly in his grasp.

After a long moment, he spoke the magic words that freed you from your stand off, voice low and rich, the notes slipping past your defenses and reeling you back in from the gentle drift of your thoughts:

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

Your spine softened as unrealized tension slipped away, and you almost told him ‘you should. I don’t know why you haven’t. It’s only a matter of time’, but instead you swallowed the words, let them cut the inside of your throat, and watched as he stood slowly and crossed the room to your little table.

He started undoing the buckles of his armor, up underneath his arms, shedding steel and leather and placing it neatly on top of the wooden surface, eyes on his task and not on the way you lingered to watch him.

‘What’s your name?’ You wanted to ask, watching  as the little pile grew, ‘why are you doing this?’ A thick belt of knives, the sharp edges glinting, clattered as he set them down, and you inhaled sharply as the desire to yell the next question at him bubbled up behind your tongue, ‘what do you WANT?’

At the sound he paused, hands smoothing down the leather of the harness that kept his swords in place, his beak tilted towards the table in a downward angle that hid his expression. You were struck with a visual spark, comparing the slow strip to the first few times he visited, back when this part of the ritual didn’t exist and he would spend the night tucked into a corner of whatever room you were in.

Watching you, silently, haunting your footsteps as you moved about your nightly routine. Those nights were sleepless, when you still weren’t sure if he would rethink his decision and end your life before you even realized it was gone.

His hands resumed their task, and the slight noise of his sword sheaths being placed beside his armor on the table brought you back once more. You must have made some small movement at the sight of the polished, meticulously maintained weapons, because his head tilted, eyes cut to the side to pin you in place. The pop of blue against midnight black was your only clue as to where he was looking despite feeling his gaze like a physical caress.

Your shoulders touched the wall at your back, and you belatedly remembered that you were only wearing a towel, and despite having never broken his word there was very little in the way of protection between you and him.

Not that it would have made any difference. When he only looked at you patiently however, before returning his attention to the wraps along his arms, you wondered once more why he was doing this.

Why hadn’t he killed you the night you met, when your throat was in his hands and the cold contemplation on his face revealed he meant to? What stayed his hand, what continued to save your life every time you brushed up against him?

What did he gain, from these little encounters?

Your brow furrowed, contemplating, watching as he slowly unwrapped his arms, tendons and muscle catching on the light trailing out from the bathroom. The soft pattern of light rippling over his beak signaled his head turning right before you were pierced by his gaze again.

“Have you eaten?” He asked in that deceptively soft voice, starting to unravel the wide belt at his waist, fingers dipping to pull his tucked shirt out from underneath the material before tightening it back in place.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to move, knowing he could be on you in an instant if he wanted, knowing he’d eventually tell you what to do. You watched as nimble fingers, covered in fine scars that you could make out even in the low light, undid a series of hidden buttons. With a small sigh through his nose, he reached backwards, arms curling up over his head and giving you a show of taunt muscles as he undid the cloth knotted behind his neck that kept his sleeves up and out of the way.

“Go lay down.” He ordered softly, tucking the cloth into a neat little circle before bending at the waist to reach his shoes, giving you a glimpse of the scars mapping out constellations amid the whorls of his shell where his shirt hung loose and open.

You half turned from the sight, swallowing down the warm, confused roll of your stomach, before the cool air tickled the back of your knees and you forced yourself to ask, “clothes?”

He looked up, face unreadable, taking in the oversized towel you clutched to yourself in a slow perusal, lingering on where the hem stopped just above your knees.

After another long moment, he nodded in acceptance, and you tiptoed into your room, shucked the towel and dressed in your pajamas in record time despite knowing he would stay out until you were safely under the covers.

You almost picked the sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, wanting the barrier, wanting something solid and safe between your skin and his scales, but the remembered way his eyes flashed in the dark eyeing the skin of your shoulders and calves stayed your hand. You settled for shorts and a tank top, something fit more so for the height of summer than the beginning of winter, but it was soft against your skin. You had the remembered feel of his fingers smoothing over the material in the back of your mind as you hurried to your bed.

This part of the ritual, you thought, pulling back your comforter and climbing in to settle in the dead center, didn’t start until after the Lull, when you thought he had forgotten about you.

The relief, thinking back to that period, was a tainted thing, a heady connection that a sick, twisted sense of longing had somehow crept its way into.

A rabbit should not long for this feeling, you knew, heartbeat racing and eyes closing when he purposefully let the floorboard just outside your bedroom creak in warning. A rabbit should not go along with the wolf.

After the two week Lull, where he did not visit you once, there was a breaking point for him where you think he almost granted your twisted wish. When he finally darkened your windowsill once more, a different edge of violent clung to him, upfront and bristling for conflict instead of the lethal patience he usually oozed.

Then, he hadn’t uttered a word, hadn’t patiently dismantled his gear. He’d appeared mid way through your dinner, bloody and breathing heavy like a bull. In the space between blinks he had you pinned half under your table, plates and cups flying when the edge of his shell hit a leg while pulling you down.

For the first time ever, you had tried to fight him, something you hadn’t even managed the night you met. The reflexive slap certainly wouldn’t have done anything if he had truly meant to end whatever was happening between you that night, but you tallied it in triumph later when you were alone, a silent indication to yourself that you weren’t just a rabbit, after all. At the time however, you weren’t sure he even felt it, certainly he didn’t flinch, only bore down on you, teeth flashing in the low light.

You didn’t even have the time to scream, terror freezing the cry in your throat when his beak slammed into the dip near your collar. But instead of the tight pain of teeth breaking into your artery, he gave a low, tortured keen. He shivered over you, deep breaths pressing you into the carpet, trapping you underneath him until dawn crept into the room and illuminated the streaks of red clinging to his scales.

There was never a repeat performance of that raw emotion ever again.

The following night he arrived later, so late you had let your guard down. You were already in bed when he appeared in your doorway. When you had only laid there, daze and skittish, panicking over the illusion of intimacy your bedroom granted, he had offered those beginning words once more, had taken his time to remove his gear where you could see before he joined you on the bed. 

A dip in the mattress, a heavy knee by your own, brought you back again, and with a flutter of lashes you found him hovering, watching for the sign you were aware of him entering your space.

He was alien looking in the dark. The undershirt clung to his shoulders, doing little to hide the hard edges of keratin underneath. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t human, but it wasn’t until you first shared a bed with him, saw the shell curving where his spine should be, that you realized he must be a turtle.

You wondered passingly the first night, if it was a quirk of fate or the will of man that led him to occupy the shape he did now, if whatever way he came to be like this could also explain the apparent fascination he had with you.

What was he after, you thought again, as he placed his other knee beside your calf and stretched out over you. What was so special about this?

His hands, callused and cool, so much larger than your own, captured your wrists, led them to opposite sides of the mattress and pressed them tightly into the comforter. His fingers settled into their remembered places, and you fought not to stiffen, remembering the bruises he’d left on your wrists the first couple nights of restraining you, how you’d silently cried while he tried to learn how to hold you. 

His thumbs whispered over the rushing dash of your heart locked underneath the thin skin of your wrists, and you just knew he was remembering as well. 

Your legs shifted under the covers, restless for what came next, feeling the ghostly imprint of his beak slotting against the heartbeat thundering just under your jaw, the weight of him keeping you pinned for as long as he wanted.

He deviated though, broke the next steps of the ritual, blue eyes holding your gaze captive in the dark before his head dipped and the lines of certainty were blurred with a shuffle of his knees and the weight of his cheek pressing against the swell of your stomach.

He sighed, the movement only discernible where his plastron cut into your hip bones, the tip of his beak nudging just under the protective cage of your ribs.

You couldn’t control the instinctual shiver that erupted at the sensation, the quiver in your stomach, the latent fear at the unknown that had you gasping at the ceiling.

Once more, in a whispered voice that finally brought a muffled noise from your mouth, he broke the ritual the two of you built over the months. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”

He held himself so carefully, so tightly over you, and for the first time your interactions were turned on their sides in your mind. You wondered if the way he held you down is more for his sake of control than any fear you’d slip away. Another shiver almost knocked you against his hold and a low rumble answered from deep in his chest.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He reiterated, and the heated line has the air bursting from you, the darkened ceiling disappearing in a haze as foggy stars took over your vision.

“Then why are you here?” You heard a voice ask, but it sounds foreign in your ears, a quiet, near silent break in character that you instantly wished you could take back.

He stilled over you, for a moment, before giving a slow pet of your hands with the side of his fingers. All your muscles tightened underneath him, shock mixing with alarm in your muddled mind at the soft touch, thoughts slow as quicksand sucked at the trail of thoughts you’d pieced together over the course of interacting with him.

He’d built the ritual, piece by piece, deviated and pushed the boundaries of what you were willing and comfortable with over and over, in order to get something he wanted. But what was it? 

The answer hovered just out of reach, despite the way he’d patiently led you further and further each time, but the end goal stretched out in the darkness in front of you, hazy and indiscrete and unknown, unknown could get you killed-

His next words only confirmed your suspicions.

“You’re so soft.” He whispered, the words traveling through your skin and settling in your chest. His head dipped, gave the barest nuzzle to your mid section, and in concert to the little movement your brows crumpled over the revelation that burst like a star in your mind.

Oh… oh. Soft. Did he even know what he wanted, what he was chasing, pushing the both of you towards? Was this stilted, slow dance his way of feeling out, pushing up against your boundaries until he found the soft points he coveted?

If… if he stopped chasing the softness, would he kill you then? 

Another slow pet of this thumb over the softest part of your wrist, lingering over the fine bones hidden underneath your skin, and another thought came unbidden to wash away the panicked edge of the others.

Why would he wait months, waste months, for this from you if there was any chance he’d end your life?

The thought had you sinking into your bed, thinking, careful to temper the blind hope of the errant thought with the immediate weight of the giant turtle over you.  He was dangerous, a killer, but maybe, just maybe, you could trust him with this. 

He held the position through the long hours of the night, not pushing for more, his breath slow and even against your stomach and his body slowly warming from the close proximity to yours.

You always promised yourself that you wouldn’t sleep, couldn’t possibly sleep, with him holding you so, but some times in between the slow, soft touches and the steady beat of his hear against your legs, you found yourself drifting off.

Your dreams were vague things that blended with reality, where you weren’t sure if you were pinned down like an insect to be studied or cradled like something precious, the only thing for certain is you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

When you woke in the morning, something curled up in your right hand drew your attention, amid the absence of your strange nighttime suitor. 

A little blossom, a delicate thing, safely tucked into the dip of your palm where it wouldn’t be crushed. You turned over the white petals carefully before bringing your cupped hand to your nose and inhaling.

Curiosity struck you at the subtle and sweet scent. Out of all the flowers, why would he pick jasmine?

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leonardo #bayverse leonardo #TMNT foot leonardo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #tw: dub con #tw: dark themes #dub con #dark themes

[indifferent-depravity]

TW: dub-con, ignoring a safeword, heavy impact play

Minors DNI 18+

A/N: daddy's back baby! don’t forget requests for everything are open so if you’d like to see anything from me feel free to drop it in my ask box :)

buy me a coffee!

help me escape abuse

my Etsy shop

~~~

The acrid smell of burning fills the kitchen, smoke curling above a pot long forgotten on the stove. You push through people, shouting as you reach the stove, “Shit! Shit shit shit shit!” You fumble with the knobs to turn the burner off, ignoring the heat burning your hands as you drag the pot off the stove.

You grimace as you assess the damage, a thick burned sludge at the bottom of the pot is all that remains of the once-perfect demi-glace. “Chef!” You freeze at the sound of Carmy’s voice, giving him a sheepish look as he stops next to you. Anger radiates off his body, mouth pressed in a firm line, “what the fuck did you do? You had one fucking job!”

“Carm, I-I’m sorry, I must’ve bumped the heat too high before I went on break. I-I can start-” he holds his hand up, eyes hard as he glares at you and your voice catches in your throat.

“It’s too late! I had that simmering for 12 hours!” You open your mouth to defend yourself and he shouts, “I want you out of my kitchen! Go! You fucked over the whole service, I don’t want to see you!”

You flinch, casting your eyes to the floor as tears fill your eyes, “I didn’t mean-”

“Now Chef! I’ll deal with you later.”

You nod and quickly flee the kitchen, heart pounding as the door to the restaurant closes behind you.

~~~

Your head snaps up as the door bangs open, “C-Carmy, I’m so sor-”

Carmy shakes his head, mouth pressed in a firm line as he crouches to undo his boots. His voice is dangerously calm when he speaks, “I don’t want to hear it. Do you know how much you cost us because of your fuck up? I couldn’t make half the beef I ordered for this specific service.”

You nod, picking at the skin around your thumb, “I-I know, it was just an accident and it’ll never happen again. I promise.”

He nods and swipes his tongue across his lips, hands moving to his belt, “We’ll just have to make sure, won’t we?” Your heart stutters in your chest, ice filling your veins as you watch him slowly pull his belt free of his jeans.

“C-Carmy, no...” Your voice is shaky as he stalks toward you, twisting his belt in his hands.

“The punishment needs to fit the infraction, honey.” You shake your head, backing away from him. Carmy laughs icily, a dangerous fire filling his eyes, “Don’t run from me, just take your punishment like a good girl.”

“No! I already said I’m sorry!” you plead, inching your way around him toward the door. His face morphs into an angry scowl and he strides toward you, your breath catching in your throat. You trip over your feet in your haste, grasping at the wall to stay upright and away from him.

Your hand falls from the wall as you reach the bathroom and you bolt into it, slamming the door shut just as Carmy comes into view. You fumble with the lock, tears obscuring your vision as his voice filters through the door. “Hiding, really? I thought you were better than this, honey.”

The knob twists as he tries to open the door, letting out a strangled shout as you manage to get it locked in time. You let out a shriek as he slams his fist against the door, backing away as far as the room allows, “You-you need to calm down! We can just talk about this like adults!” You call through the door, voice weak with fear as the door rattles against his fist.

He goes silent on the other side of the door and you take a deep breath, trying to settle your racing heart when the door bursts open, anger darkening Carmy’s features as he pushes into the room. You scream, holding your arms out to keep him at a distance. He easily knocks your arms out of the way as he grabs your hair in a vice grip, forcing your head back. He speaks through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring with anger, “You just made this worse for yourself, you know that?” 

Your lip trembles as you silently plead with him, hands coming up to cup his face, “C-Carm, please, I know you don’t want to do this.”

He shakes his head with a mirthless laugh that sends a shiver down your spine, “You don’t know what I want, bitch. What I wanted is for you to be a good girl and accept the punishment I deemed fit to give you.”

You shake your head against his grip, “N-no, I need you to stop! R-red! This isn’t funny anymore!”

Carmy releases your hair and for a moment you see your Carmy, the Carmy that would never raise a hand to you. He’s gone in a flash, replaced with cold fury as he loops an arm around your waist and hauls you out of the bathroom, unimpeded by your fight against his grip.

“Carmy! Let me go!” You shout, digging your fingers under his arm, trying desperately to escape his grasp.

“Oh no, you’re not gonna get out of this, honey!” He chastises, dragging you toward the bedroom, “I gave you too much leeway and now I’m going to fix it.” He throws you onto the bed, catching your ankle before you can scramble out of his reach, and brings his belt down across your ass.

You yelp and kick out, catching Carmy in the stomach. His breath leaves him in a wheeze but his grip stays firm around your ankle. He huffs out a laugh and climbs on top of you, “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you!” He teases, pinning your legs down with his body weight as he brings his belt down harder.

You sob as a throbbing ache blooms under his belt, twisting your fingers in the bedspread. He pays your pained noises no mind as he peppers your ass with harsh strokes of his belt, your jeans doing nothing to dull the blows.

Carmy is breathing heavily when he finally tosses the belt to the side and leans over you. He grips your hair, forcing your face towards his, “Do you understand why I had to do this, honey?” You nod and let out a hiccupping sob, tears leaving scalding tracks down your face.

“I-I’m sorry,” You gasp and just like that he’s back to being your Carmy, softening his grip and gently carding his fingers through your hair. He leans in and kisses your cheek softly, shifting his weight off your legs.

“We’re almost done, okay? Just one more thing so you remember not to make the same mistake again.” You nod, taking in a shuddering breath as he slides down your body. You remain lax as his hands move around your waist and pop open the button of your jeans, gently pulling them down your legs.

Carmy’s hands are gentle as they smooth over your thighs, pulling them open to make room for his hips. His fingers prod your core, a quiet whine escaping your throat as the rough calluses catch deliciously on your clit. He shushes you as two fingers slowly sink into your cunt, stretching you for his cock with quick precision, “This isn’t for you, honey. I’m going to use you, cum in you, and then all will be forgiven.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers disappear as quickly as they appear, the sound of his jeans being unzipped filling the room.

~~~

You’re still laying in the same position when Carmy comes back into the room, carrying a wet washcloth. He kneels next to you and starts gently wiping his cum from your thighs. You flinch, mustering enough strength to shift away from his hand. He sighs, resting his hand on your hip as he tries to continue cleaning you up, “c’mon honey, let me help you.”

You shake your head, mortified tears burning your eyes as you shift away from his touch again. Carmy scoffs and tosses the wet cloth on your back, standing to his full height. “Fine, don’t accept my help. I’m going for a smoke.”

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #dub con #tw: dub con #smut #writing #dead dove do not eat

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Wasting Love

Stranger Things Masterlist

Summary: When your friend and crush Eddie Munson asks you on a date, you think it’s the best day of your life. But when there’s a serial killer on the loose, you never know what might happen. You thought you were good at figuring out who the killer is in movies, but in real life… It’s a whole other game.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Non-con, Dub-con, kidnapping, drugging, obsession, serial killer, serial killer AU, murder, violence, blood, stalking, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, major character death (mentionned)

Word Count: 5063

A/n: Hello people! So this fic is a collaboration with my dearest friend, @cryptichobbit​​ ! It’s our first time writing for Eddie, and to be honest it was really fun! I hope we’ll make more collabs in the future! 

This fic is dark. Mind the warning. We’re not responsible for your media consumption.

With time, you became an obsession for him.

You were worse than all the drugs he was taking and selling. 

He didn't think he would fall for you so much. You had been friends for several months after all, and part of him found it a bit strange to have those kinds of feelings towards his friend. But he couldn't deny it anymore, you were all he thought about, day and night, every day of the week, every hour. Despite his best efforts to stop thinking of you that way, you were on his mind. Because whenever he saw certain books you read and told him about, certain types of clothes you would wear, heard certain songs and bands you two would listen to together, the volume way too high for any normal beings, he automatically thought of you. You and your beautiful smile, you and your beautiful y/e/c eyes, you and your passions, you and your brilliant personality, you and your intelligence that impressed him, you and your goddess body that he just wanted to make his own… Everything that made him fall more and more in love with the wonderful person that you were.

He wanted to label you as his. Mark all of your gorgeous curves that were driving him insane.

He wanted to make you scream– no, even better. He wanted to make you scream his name.

So he made sure to prepare the perfect plan.

A date.

All girls love dates after all, right? And he knew what you liked, your favorite food, the places you preferred to go, what you liked to do or not. He probably knew more about you than you knew about yourself. 

After planning the whole day in advance, not even knowing if you would say yes or no, he called your house. After talking to you a little longer than expected, all to hear your sweet voice, he invited you on the date and a beautiful smile appeared on his face when you accepted.

Just like he planned.

“Okay, I’ll get you tomorrow at 7pm!”

“Okay, can’t wait to see you Eddie.”

“Can’t wait to see you either, sweetheart!”

He had the talent of making the butterflies fly in your stomach.

Eddie couldn't wait to see you, he was so impatient he couldn't sleep that night. To help himself calm down and take his mind off things, he strummed his beloved guitar, loving the sound it made whenever he played with her strings. 

When Eddie finally felt tired enough, he undressed and went under the warm covers of his bed. Falling asleep was hard, like he assumed it would be, but he thought of you and your sight filling his mind put him to sleep.

The next morning, Eddie woke up quite late for someone that couldn’t sleep. Immediately after he opened his eyes, he got up from the bed, put on the first clothes he could find and left his trailer for some last minute shopping. First the pharmacy and then the grocery store to pick up two or three useful things just in case, although in all honesty, it was just to pass the time. There were still hours to wait before picking you up and his impatience grew more and more.

Once he got back home, Eddie found a nice way to occupy himself while thinking of you...

When it was finally close to 6pm, Eddie started getting ready to look presentable. He took a quick shower to get himself clean and smell good, knowing how you loved his scent. It was one of the reasons why he gave you one of his sweaters even though you weren't together. His scent calmed you, reassured you and he found you completely adorable in it even if the clothing was too short on you, and that if you were not wearing a pair of shorts underneath, he could see everything. 

The idea of ​​taking you like that, on your back or even on all fours while you were wearing his sweater excited him terribly. Luckily, there was still some time to spend on a quick handjob. Thinking about your curves. His hand printed on your asscheek. His cock glistening wet, a sight to die for when he bottomed out of your tight channel. Your voice breaking begs for him to go rougher.

Needless to say, it wasn’t called a quickie for nothing.

Once he was done cleaning himself, Eddie got out of the shower and dried his hair. Finding something nice to wear to the date turned out to be harder than he thought, but he eventually found clothes that were not dirty or torn. Satisfied with his appearance, Eddie fixed his room and exited his trailer to drive to your house.

The drive was fast, and Eddie arrived to your place. His truck parked to the side of the road, he walked to your door and knocked. Your mom opened and he greeted her politely with one of his adorable smiles as he waited for you to be ready.

Girls always took more time to be perfectly pretty. But Eddie didn’t mind the wait, especially when he saw you walk down the stairs.

A soft, barely audible “wow” breached his parted lips, his chocolate eyes widening at the sight of you. You were wearing the dress. The dress he got you for your birthday, dress you never wore because it made you feel insecure. It was too short, too tight, the neckline was too deep and overall, the fabric sticking to your body like a second skin showed too much of the curves you hated.

But Eddie loved that dress for all of those reasons.

“Ready?” You giggled at seeing his expression. Your laugh echoed in Eddie’s ears like a soft, beautiful melody. Thankfully, the pants he wore were large, because otherwise, he would have had explanations to give about the bump hardening down there.

“Yeah. All ready. Let’s go.”

Eddie led the way, opening the door of your house to let you walk out first, and then opened the door of his car on the passenger side. A shy thank you left your lips as you thought his gestures were so romantic and gentlemanly. But in reality, Eddie’s actions were based on his perverted instinct on detailing your gorgeous body while you were unaware of where his eyes were resting.

Once inside his car, Eddie sighed and looked at you.

“You’re okay?” You wondered, your voice a bit higher than usual.

“Yeah it’s just… You’re just so pretty,” Eddie softly grinned at you, and the smile you gave him made him melt on the spot. Your hand played with your hair, placing a strand behind your ear as shyness filled your face with heat.

“And you’re so handsome, Ed.”

It was his turn to blush at your words. Eddie looked at himself all over. The baby blue button up shirt he got from one of his trips was a bit baggy on him, but once he rolled the cuffs to his elbows, it fitted perfectly. The jeans were big, but with his slim legs, every pair of pants he owned were oversized. Anyway, he preferred them that way.

“Ready to go?”

You grinned at him. Eddie took that as a yes, so he turned the engine on and started driving. Your favorite song immediately busted through the speakers and you nodded enthusiastically, appreciating his efforts to make the date perfect to the last detail.

After a few songs, you finally arrived at the destination. It was a small restaurant that you really liked for the good food, the affordable prices, and the warm ambiance. You walked inside, Eddie keeping the door open for you. Once seated, a waitress took your orders. As you were about to give yours, Eddie surprised you once again by telling the lady exactly what you wanted. He remembered your favorite dish from this place and it warmed your heart.

This was the perfect date.

While you both waited, you looked at Eddie and gave him a soft smile.

“How are you holding up?”

“What?” Chocolate eyes cluelessly glanced at you, as if he forgot.

Your heart sank and you reached a hand across the table in case he needed to hold on to something. “About Wayne.”

“Oh. Uhm.”

It was all over the news.

Hawkins was a small town, so when something happened, it didn’t take much time for everyone to know about it. Especially something as serious as a killer wearing some kind of ghost mask on the loose.

It was the fifth murder happening in the last two weeks. Victims were all found with similar injuries, but all died from different wounds. One got stabbed so many times, an abstract painting of red was covering the walls of the room he was found in. Another had been found on the ground, body sprayed like an insect someone would have squashed. The balcony patio door had been found open so the investigation concluded the victim had been pushed down. 

But no matter what eventually killed the victims, they were all covered in stab wounds coming from the same blade.

It was getting worrisome but you knew the cops would protect you all. The sheriff was doing everything to catch the killer and you trusted Hopper. He got you out of trouble more than once after all.

Even though Wayne wasn’t your family, the sadness you felt was terribly hard to handle. He had been so sweet to you, always making sure you were okay and safe. Eddie’s uncle acted like a dad to you and you missed him terribly. 

That fateful day when the killer took his life, Eddie came to your place. His hair was such a mess, his eyes red from crying too much and he was wearing a big hoodie, like somehow, it could hide him from the world and from the pain of losing his only family. No questions were asked when he showed up so late on your doorstep in that vulnerable state. You let him in and brought him to your room, lay on your bed and allowed him to cry, to sob and empty his whole heart to you as he kept crying against your chest. You let him mourn and listen to the words breaking through his sobs, telling you what happened and how he found the body.

Seeing the usually cocky, dorky and happy Eddie Munson in such a terrible state was heartbreaking and you could imagine the pain he had to endure right now. So you spent the rest of the night with him, rubbing his back, whispering sweet nothing to him, until you both fell asleep in your bed.

“I’m… I’m holding up. The trailer feels empty without him there,” he paused and thanked the waitress as she brought your food. “It feels lonely without him. Nobody called for him either, or for me, like we… don’t exist to them anymore. I guess I'm an orphan now,” he shrugged it off with a forced smile, his eyes not meeting yours.

Your heart broke. You knew he was joking to hide his sadness and avoid crying right then and there in the middle of the dinner. 

“Eddie, i’m always there for you alright?” Your hand finally met his and you squeezed softly. The rings on his fingers were cold.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So no matter what, you have my full support and if you ever need anything… Just call me.” 

He intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

A small smile stretched his lips, his eyes staring at your hands. You smiled back at him, relieved to see him seemingly feeling a bit better. A bit later, the waitress brought your food and you both started eating, talking a bit about anything and everything. Well, in all honesty, he mostly let you talk, enjoying the sound of your voice that was soothing for him, like a lullaby a mother would sing to her crying child. He loved how passionate you would become when you spoke about things you liked. 

The food was good and you got sad when your plate was empty. You left the dinner, Eddie paying for the both of you, and you back in the truck to reach your final destination and the place of your date…

A drive-in.

You gasped, overjoyed with his choice for your first date.

“What movie are we gonna watch?” You were almost jumping on your seat.

God you were so cute. To eat for, Eddie thought.

“Manhunter. It’s a thriller, you're gonna love it.”

And he was right.

Even though during some scenes you could easily guess what was gonna happen and didn’t get surprised at some of the “jumpscares”, you had a good time.

“I knew who the bad guy was like immediately, it was so obvious,” you laughed once the credits rolled in.

“Ah?” Eddie whispered next to you, his breath tickling the skin of your neck. Too invested in the movie, you didn’t notice that with the position you two were in, it was impossible for him to watch the movie.

Eddie had better, more interesting things to watch anyway.

“Yeah,” you commented. “I always guess the endings too easily, especially slasher movies. Serial killers are so obvious, the victims had it coming, like come on! They are so stupid.”

“Hm hm.”

Since Eddie had forgotten to bring blankets and nights were quite cold in November, you started shivering halfway through the movie. But as the good gentleman he was, Eddie proposed to cuddle, and of course, you accepted. That was how he ended up with his head on your shoulder, his lips so close to your skin, only one movement would connect your bodies.

Well… “Forgotten” was a big word.

When it was time to get back home, Eddie asked you if you wanted to come to his place to watch more movies with him. Of course you said yes, who were you to say no to more movies, cuddled up against Eddie Munson? You only needed to call your mother once you arrived to warn her, you didn’t want her to worry after all. With the murders happening around and the killer still on the loose, it was dangerous to go out at night. Luckily you were not alone, and knowing you were with Eddie would reassure your mom.

Happy with your answer, Eddie grinned and started driving to his place. It was a nice ride, the windows down just enough to let some cold air enter the car. Your favorite songs were still blasting loudly from the speaker, but it was nothing compared to your voice badly singing the lyrics alongside the driver.

Once at the trailer park, Eddie stopped his truck and quickly jumped out of it to jog to your side and open your door, extending a hand for you to take. You smiled and giggled at the gesture, taking the outstretched hand and walked inside with him.

“I need to prepare the popcorn, you can go to my room, I left a surprise for you there.” Eddie stopped walking abruptly and you spun towards him when your intertwined hands forbade you to go forward. Curious, you grinned and waved his arm from side to side.

“A surprise?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, bringing you closer to him. Bringing your hand to his lips, Eddie left a soft kiss that made you giggle. “I saw it and thought you’d like it. Well… I hope you like it.”

Because it cost me a lot. He thought.

You looked at him, wondering what he got you, curiosity stronger than anything. Eddie looked nervous all of a sudden, wary of how you would react, perhaps. Brushing the worry aside, you tried walking to his room again, but since he was still holding your hand, you couldn’t make two steps before you were dragged back again. 

“Can I have my hand back, or do you want to keep it to yourself?” You playfully asked, a tint of flirt in your voice as you turned to him. But when you saw his look, your smile froze.

It was the low light of the trailer, you told yourself immediately. That was why his eyes looked so dark. It was only the shadow reflecting on his face, you reassured yourself when a creepy grin stretched his lips. Only the lights. Everything was fine. 

“Sorry,” Eddie let go of your hand. Immediately after, he walked to his pantry to retrieve a package of uncooked popcorn. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and walked to his room. The weird feeling you started having when you saw his expression was still lingering in the back of your mind, so you squeezed it as much as you could in a corner to forget. But the sensation was persistent, screaming at you to just run outside that place. Run away before it was too late.

It was stupid. So stupid. You’ve known Eddie for so long, he was your friend, your confident, and finally you had a date with him. You never thought you had a chance with him, so when he asked you out, you almost cried of happiness. It was only the movie that put those ideas inside of your brain. Watching a thriller / horror movie with everything that was happening in the town might not have been the best idea after all. But then you wondered…

Why did the drive-in decide to play that one then, if they knew about the ongoing murders? That seemed quite heartless of them, now that you thought about it.

You were still thinking about it, denial fighting your survival instinct when you entered Eddie’s room. The handle was cold in your palm and the door creaked on its hinges, the sound breaking the silence in two. It sounded like a howl of agony, like the wood itself was warning you of the inevitable outcome. 

Stumbling in the dark, your fingers finally found the switch and you turned on the light. It blinded you temporally, his room was way more lit than the rest of the trailer, so your eyes took a couple of seconds to adjust. When you could finally open them without squinting, you looked around… And your attention immediately stopped on the bed.

Your heart dropped in your stomach. Heavy, like a brick, it hurt and nausea rose in your throat. It was barely if you could hold yourself up.

His bed was a mess, nothing more than normal for Eddie. But on it… Black clothes were neatly spread on the sheet, like the person that put it there wanted you to recognize them immediately. Like that wasn’t enough, next to it was a mask of a frowning face with a gaping mouth.

Ghostface.

But the worst… The worst was the butcher knife covered in blood laid between those two items.

And as Eddie expected, you screamed.

God that scream was beautiful.

Just like you.

You felt an arm wrap tightly around you, the only reason you didn’t collapse on the floor when a sudden sting stabbed your neck. As your vision became blurry and your head heavy, you heard a simple “sorry” coming from the metalhead’s mouth.

The last thought you had was the one of denial. It couldn’t be. It had to be a nightmare. The killer placed the clothes on Eddie’s bed to frame him and was forcing him to do all of this.

Your survival instincts were frowning at your naiveness.

-

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that you weren’t wearing your own clothes anymore. The tight dress was gone, replaced by something bigger, the material soft like silk. It hurt everywhere when you forced your body to move, but you fought the ache and opened your eyes to look around. Metallica and Iron Maiden posters on the walls. A guitar proudly displayed next to a mirror. The light way too strong for your retinas. And on your body, a black robe. 

Shifting slightly to feel the surrounding, you noticed you were wearing nothing under the black clothing. Your underwear was gone. 

The heat followed pretty quickly. Your whole body was hot, terribly hot, it was unbearable. It felt like a hundred degrees in here, sweat covering every inch of your body.

And over that, you were desperately soaked. Wetness was drenching the insides of your thighs.

“My sweet princess finally woke up. How are you feeling? Had a nice sleep?”

Somewhere deep inside, his voice woke up the reality of the situation. Fear tried to make its way through your veins, but it burned and melted with all the rest. Your head felt fuzzy, your sight difficult to focus on the silhouette next to you.

“Eddie…” The name barely escaped your parted mouth, like a whisper bleeding through your lips.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, so sorry… You make me crazy. You’re worse than all the drugs I took since I started taking them y’know?” he smiled softly at you, too softly. Your gaze focused on that part of his face and fear tried once again to fill your lungs.

One breath got in, but it came out with a needy, desperate little sound.

It wasn’t your Eddie. It couldn’t be your Eddie. You had to wake up, move, leave, not stay there and… Want it! What the fuck was wrong with your body? You should feel fear, despair, sadness, anger, hell, feel betrayed.

“E-Eddie please…”

But all you could feel was the uncontrollable urge to get him even closer to you. 

“Shh, you’re safe with me. I won’t let anyone else come in between us. Now, I can have you all to myself.” 

You whined and shifted in the bed again. Only, this time, you finally noticed the lack of bounds… You weren’t even tied up. Then, why couldn’t you move? Your mind was getting more and more fuzzy and even though you didn’t have all of your head, you understood what happened. 

He drugged you.

You hated that. You hated how it made you feel, your body burning up so bad, your head was melting the basic instinct of survival you should have had. The fight or flee response was gone.

“Is my princess needy? I can fix that.”

Eddie’s hands found their way to your thighs and slipped under the robe. He squeezed the plump flesh and grinned at your reaction, his fingers digging into you.

“The drug seems really effective– now, what if I do this…”

One of his hands moved between your legs and slowly caressed your dripping pussy, making him growl in approval at how wet you were. You moaned despite the situation, hating how he was touching you while you were drugged. Completely at his mercy. No ties were needed to keep you docile, whatever he forced through your veins was doing the job just fine.

And you hated that it took that fucked up situation for you to understand… Sweet, funny, dorky Eddie Munson was not the one he seemed. It made so much sense now, how he met you. That day at the bus stop. He didn’t even need to take the bus. How he befriended you. How that stranger you met just like that had the same taste as you in music, food, arts, and wouldn’t mind listening to you talk about your passions for hours. The stranger became a friend. He knew what to tell you when you were sad or which joke to whisper to make you laugh.

Like he knew you before.

It made so much sense.

How Wayne died. The news said he got run over and over again by a car after being stabbed at the bottom of his back, the perfect spot to paralyze someone to the waist down. It was dark when Eddie drove to your house the night it happened. But you were sure you saw the bumper of his truck… damaged.

How Steve died. Billy. Tommy. Heather.

All those people… You talked to them shortly before their death. Either they were your friend, or just someone you were tutoring, or a girl that was bullying you for your appearance.

And the first victim… Steve… He was your friend. One day, he joked and openly flirted with you… And when that happened…

Eddie was there.

The shirt he was wearing tonight at the date. You knew why it was familiar.

It was Steve’s shirt.

You thought that anyone else but him could be the killer but Lord knew you were wrong. You could brag as much as you could, you were very bad at finding who the killer was after all.

That was the last thing your brain could gather before it all melted under the heat. It reached the last remains of your sanity, filling it up with lust instead. And without you noticing, your legs opened up. Your body knew what it wanted, your cunt trembling in need of getting used and fucked over and over again. 

That simple action made Eddie smile.

You could hear the buckle of his jeans getting undone. Hastily, with only one hand, it took him some time to get his jeans and boxer down so he could free his hard length. Eddie sighed as he rubbed his cock head between your folds. Precum was already leaking from it, that was how bad he had wanted you all night. Thinking about your body, your curves, all of you that would be his at the end of the date.

“I’m gonna make you mine officially.” 

In one simple push, he was already balls deep inside you, snatching a loud moan out of your mouth at being so suddenly and perfectly filled. Eddie groaned at the feeling of finally being inside you.

Raw.

He waited a bit before moving as he wanted to enjoy your warmth and softness as much as he could. Compliments bled through his lips, how hot you looked while wearing his robe, how cute your face was flushed with arousal, how needy and pathetic your whimpers were and how tight and warm your cunt was around his cock. 

As he pressed his lips against you, Eddie finally sealed your first kiss. The moment he stole your breath, he started pounding inside you. It wasn’t soft at all and showed how deeply anchored his dark desires for you were. All those months studying you, getting to know you to be ready the day of your meeting. Befriend you. Stay out of the radar while erasing everyone that got in his way. Killing the potential rivals or slashing the throat of the ones that would hurt you, like that dumb bitch that bullied you for your gorgeous body.

You were a goddess and they were barely ants. They were only annoying him, so he squashed them like bugs.

All those efforts, all those months of planification, it drained him to the last drop of patience. So now that he finally had you, there was no more waiting.

His balls were slapping against your ass each time he found himself back inside you. It was raw, it was rough, and the drugs flooding in your system amplified the sensations to a level where you couldn’t even moan properly. Everytime he bottomed out, his cock hit your cervix and your vision would turn white with the pleasure building up more and more. It was hot, you were burning up, and you didn’t even notice your hands were now gripping his shirt so tightly, it was ripping the tissue apart.

When his lips left yours, you took a breath you didn’t know you were holding. But even then, the air burned your throat and your lungs and got stuck under an unwanted moan. The coil in your stomach was tightening more and more, and all you wanted was to cum. Supplications were leaving your mouths with the whimpers, but you couldn’t even make the difference.

Was there really a difference?

Eddie’s mouth didn’t stay away from your body for long, as he made sure to mark all the skin he could access. Love bites and hickeys left a trail of burns as he attacked your neck and jaw, sucking and biting everything he could. At one particular sensible spot he bit, you clenched around him and threw your head back, feeling yourself becoming so sensitive to his touch, your body filled with little shocks of pleasure. Eddie answered your reaction by thrusting faster and deeper, his grunts now loudly resonating in your ears. He kept the pace until he reached his climax, loving how your walls tightened around him when he felt you cum around him. You just couldn’t help it, your body exploded with pleasure when it felt Eddie painting your walls with his seeds.

You were completely out of breath, exhausted, but the drug was still kicking hard in your system. Eddie chuckled when you lazily moaned, your pussy squeezing him as if it wanted to be filled again.

But Eddie didn’t need you to tell him you wanted more, because he didn’t want it to end so soon. So, even if he just came, he kept moving, kept fucking you, pushing the cum that was leaking back inside of your abused hole. It was slower, but oh god, so deep and good. Your cunt was burning now, the lightest contact on your crotch was setting the fire ablaze over your body.

“Oh, princess,” his voice was raw. Low. Dangerous. His breath tickled your ear and sent shivers down your spine, shivers you couldn’t even feel under the heat. “Don’t worry… You’re mine now, and I'll fill those holes up again and again until you are dripping with my cum because you’ll never leave me. Ever.”

-

Your mother never heard news of you ever again after that night. All she got was a postcard from you from a place far away, telling you left for good and never wanted to come back to Hawkins again.

The truth was darker. And like when Wayne died, no one bothered checking on Eddie the freak Munson. No one asked him if he knew something and no one checked the last location you were known to be… 

No one knew you were closer than it seemed.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​​ @fictional-affairs​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @cryptichobbit​

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson smut #serial killer!eddie #serial killer!au #tw: dub con #tw noncon #violence #serial killer!Eddie munson #stranger things eddie x reader #stranger things eddie x reader smut #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things eddie munson x reader #stranger things eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things dark #stranger things dark fic #stranger things dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson #serial killer au #stranger things serial killer au #ghostface #ghostface eddie #ghost face

[demonscantgothere]

The "Morgoth Made Them Do It" fic is done. Yes, I am the kinky fic writer for this fandom pairing. That will be my title. I will hold that crown.

Eyes Closed by Helholden

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types  

Warnings: Explicit, Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Complete Work

Relationship(s): Galadriel/Sauron, Galadriel /Halbrand

Tags: Dubious Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, Mutual Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Slavery, Trauma, Friendship, Bonding, Developing Relationship, Secret Relationship, Public Humiliation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Public Sex, End of the World, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Future

A/N: It's truly dub-con more than non-con because permission is asked for and permission is granted, but I tagged with Rape/Non-Con just to play it safe and not trigger anybody.

Summary:

Morgoth Bauglir returns from beyond The Void, and draws his wayward servant, Sauron, back under his thumb with the one temptation he can't deny—his Lady of Light, Galadriel. Written for an anonymous tumblr prompt: Dub-con fic where Sauron and Galadriel are both prisoners of Morgoth. Morgoth makes them do it again and again and watches.

Keep Reading

#saurondriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #haladriel #halbrand x galadriel #galadriel x halbrand #my fic #tw: dub con #tw: non con

[fangirl-332]

Makima - Yandere AI Bot

I made my first AI bot in Janitor AI, I'm getting used to their features so I might not catch up with any mistake so let me know if there's an issue, but reminder this is my first AI bot so go easy on me.

https://janitorai.com/characters/d75ddffb-3e80-4bfe-8305-e69d9e0f8fa2_character-makima-yandere

#Makima #Chainsaw man #Yandere Makima #Yandere CSM #Tw: Dub Con #Makima Smut #CSM #CSM makima

[facesofthefog]

[ Repost from old blog ] @a-swines-baptism

Tw: size difference / belly bulge / dub-con / other monsterous fuckery

– Tell me if at any point you're uncomfortable, darling – the god purred above his mortal and leaned down to kiss her shoulder. 

Amanda had been his wife for so long and yet he still found ways to explore her body anew. Still found opportunities to try something they never had the chance before. She'd never get boring, at least he doubted she could. His beautiful gem, a prized possession. The perfect killer, the amazing partner. 

Her soft response was all he needed, as he slowly aided the red ball gag into her mouth and between her teeth. She looked so beautiful in red, and his eyes consumed the image reflected in the mirror with hungry greediness. She was already naked for him, prepared and ready for all he wanted to do. There was one more item he wished to be able to include, the red string he loved to use. But he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. His current form was already something new, something neither of them had tried before. Adding rope where constraint was still something she didn't feel comfortable with could've been a bad idea so he never offered it to her. 

The Entity's darkened palm gently slid over her abdomen, those eyes of gold still focused on her reflection as they both sat in front of the mirror. Amanda in his lap looked so tiny. The newfound form - a mix of his Entity monstrous self and the mortal shell he gained so long ago. Pale skin with darkened limbs, large claws and sharp horns. A perfect mix of all she loved in him. Or maybe she'd love anything about him, regardless of his form - he wasn't certain but didn't feel the need to ask.

– You're so beautiful – he breathed, taking in the smell of her hair as his other hand pulled a strand to his nose. – You smell so sweet, a perfect mix of fear and excitement. My perfect little treat.

Satisfied with the shiver of a response, one of his hands moved to her hip, the other to her side. And as the Bastard lifted her up, he saw her squirm in the giant's hold. So much taller than he ever was, he could move her like a toy. If she were to try and escape, it would be so easy to overpower her… Yet he knew they both wanted this. 

The tip of his cock slipped over her entrance, but never pushed in. Each shift of her body made the large thing rub over her opening letting the beads of precum spread between her cheeks. The soft sound released by the mortal encouraged the Bastard to tease her further, pulling Amanda's body down but still not impaling her. The thick throbbing length pressed against her belly covering her own excitement as it stood tall between her thighs. She could see it clearly in the mirror, the golden milky beads atop that thinner head which even now reached just above her navel. Just how deep would it reach should it breach the ring of muscle? 

The answer would come soon as the Bastard once more lifted her tiny frame and gave another gentle rub. And with the next shift of his hips, the tip breached her, filling already at the normal length she'd experience from a mortal lover. But her husband was no mortal, and she should count herself lucky that he held the patience of a saint.

– Shh, shh~ – The Entity hushed her sounds of protest. She simply needed to adapt, the god knowing she doesn't want it to end. Their connection set in place would keep him aware of her needs even with the gag in place. 

The monstrous cock grew in thickness with each inch, as the Entity made shallow thrusts letting her body get used to the unnatural intrusion. Any sound of pain made him stop, retract, then ease the thrusts until she was ready to continue. He could feel himself sinking with more with time, and his lips focused on kissing her skin. His mouth could envelop her shoulder and neck, yet he wouldn't leave bite marks yet. The fear of tearing into her soft skin prevented him from testing his self-control.

– I love you – he whispered between the kisses. – You're so perfect.

And she was. Her body, even if mortal, could take so much. He could feel himself poke through the skin of her abdomen once he shifted one of his hands there. The unnatural experience only made his excitement grow further, briefly taking a hold of his mind. He wanted to be rougher, a snarl slipping past his bared teeth. All of his instincts screamed to press Amanda against the floor and ruthlessly pound into her body with no care for its fragility. But that would break her, kill her even. And whilst she would return to life, it was not how he wished for their moment of closeness to end. The Entity would be rewarded far more for keeping in control. The whines of pleasure would be enough to satisfy the god. 

The Bastard didn't even notice when he pressed up to the hilt, when he had managed to pull Amanda's body all the way down the enormous length, when he filled her body beyond what should be possible. What he did notice, however, was when his sharp claw cut through the gag's strap and a flood of cries spilled out of Amanda's mouth. Be it a former word or incoherent sound he took it all in, but didn't let it continue for long. The large mouth met Amanda's smaller lips and a rough tongue found its way within. Her throat bulged out similarly to her belly from the sudden intrusion, as the slippery muscle pressed forth exploring more than it should. Penetrated from both ends, all she could do was dig her fingers and nails into his flesh. Yet even if she'd change her mind and wish him to stop, it would be too late. The massive length shifted once then twice, almost leaving her body entirely, before it slammed back in and began to spill its seed. 

The entity continued to move his hips and rut forward generously gifting all he had to offer. Soon the flesh began to bulge further, the skin becoming taut with the amount of liquid forced into such a small space. Even if her form would wish to rid itself of the semen, there was nowhere for it to go between the thickness below and the tongue pushed in from above. Soon he'd allow her to take in a much needed gulp of air. Soon. Just not yet.

#the bastard [ ic ] #adult corner [ +18 ] #[ repost from old blog ] #[ a swines baptism ] #tw: size difference #tw: belly bulge #tw: dub con #tw: monster fucking #[ one-shot ]

[yary-t]

The Sandman in general (and dreamling in particular) has somehow gotten me to be truly active on Tumblr for the first time in years, to unearth my ao3 account, and to bury myself under a pile of fic ideas. 

List of Dreamling fics I actually managed to finish:

When your breaking point’s all that you have: Hob gets captured by Burgess, a fishbowl breakout ensues (and then a good chunk of the word count is just unwittingly dating), or, as summarized by ao3 user reallyhotgoose, “you look at them and think shall we play it safe? no, you say LET’S MAKE THEM MORE TRAUMATIZED“. Rated M. 

His skin was pale and his eye was odd: attempted human sacrifice culminates in identity reveal. Rated M.

My wildest dreamings could not foresee: vampire!Dream x regular human!Hob. Rated E.

The valley of the night: fairy tale AU, my attempt to write something more artistic. Rated T. Contains COMIC SPOILERS.

Like a hand in a flame: a sequel to the vampire au, from monster hunter!Johanna’s POV. Rated T.

List of Dreamling WIPs in case anyone wants to ask me about any of them thus adding to my motivation to actually work on them  (ordered by how much of the fic I actually have written):

No defense, no escape from the ties that bind: yet another installment in the vampire AU. Rated E.

Putting it together, bit by bit (Or: scenes from that one time Mr. Gadling was put in charge of the school play and dragged his goth not-boyfriend along for the ride, as seen through the eyes of assorted cast members): the multi-chapter outsider POV fic I started writing while working on the beginning of When your breaking point’s all that you have because I needed a break from all the pain and suffering. Pure fluff, more a series of drabbles and scene fragments in chronological sequence than a full story, pre-relationship.

Untitled siren AU: scuba diver!Hob x siren!Dream. Featuring: Dream saving Hob from drowning when he gets nitrogen narcosis while diving alone, Dream sort of becoming Hob’s dive buddy, Hob rescuing Dream from a literal fishbowl.

Thinking they’re alone: fantasy AU, sex worker!Hob x unspecified-magical-being!Dream. [I have it plotted but it requires smut and will be maybe 10~20k words so I’m putting it off]

List of fic ideas not yet promoted to WIPs, aka concepts that I want to read more than write (please send me links if you know fics that match! I haven’t been able to keep up with everything posted):

Untitled ballet AU: dancer!Hob x choreographer!Dream. [I have no plot, just a few ideas that may become a plot. This was originally listed as a WIP but it got demoted; I think in the end I did want to read this idea more than write it because once I did I was no longer invested in this WIP at all. So if you want an AU with this set up may I recommend bartered tendons; battered rhythm]

Untitled 1: and then they were roommates, except Dream is the ghost that came with the cottage in the middle of nowhere Hob (a regular, mortal, human) suddenly inherited. Hob’s lived on the streets, though -- he’s not about to let the fact that it’s haunted drive him away from a perfectly nice house. [I have some random worldbuilding but the entire note is three short paragraphs]

Untitled 2 (tw: dub con): instead of Dream being the one who feels obligated to provide sex, it’s Hob who thinks like this. Hob who offers the use of his body, feeling he owes it for his immortality. Dream who is being offered something he wants, who has no reason to assume it isn’t willingly offered, and so he takes. Hob would do anything for immortality (if it's set early in their acquaintance), for his friend -- to keep his friend (if it's set in the present) [This is literally all I have written on the note for this idea. I wrote it after reading illuminetic’s arguments re: 1489 Hob’s fuckability. Illuminetic wrote an AMAZING fic about Hob fearing that his stranger wants sexual favors. I also want one in which he actually provides them on the mistaken assumption that Dream requires them]

Catch me I’m falling (below there are COMICS SPOILERS; also, tw: mentions of suicide and depression):

Once upon a dream, an ordinary man faced the fates, the kindly ones, the furies with no weapon but his humanity. And he got them to bend--to be satisfied with Dream of the Endless, and to spare Morpheus. His friend, his love.

This is not that story.

This is the aftermath of that story.

Morpheus, no longer Dream, cast into a silence as fatalistic as that of his glass cage, with no hope of ever escaping it. Caged into a flesh that is human, if not truly mortal. Bereft of his function, his purpose.

Aka the epic Hob trying to support Dream through navigating humanity while still struggling with his depression fic I am in no way shape or form qualified to write. A retired!Dream fic in which being freed of his burden doesn’t solve his problems, but makes them worse. Hob struggles with guilt that he didn’t see what Dream was doing, fear that he’ll try again, anger at Dream for being willing to just abandon him, anger at himself for being angry at Dream. [the sheer amount of research I’d have to do to sill maybe mess it up somehow is dauting. I mean, should I even call it depression? Idk, I’d have to read up on it]

#the sandman #dreamling #dreamling fic #my fic #WIPs #I also like send character to therapy fics (Lise's Life in Reverse for Loki; a voyager fic I read on ff.net ages ago for Janeway) #So that'd work within Catch me I'm falling #But it could also just be a post season 1 one-shot #tw: dub con #tw: suicide #tw: depression #the sandman comic spoilers

[xieyaohuan]

Ravishing a god part 3

Fandom: The Boys

Pairing: Billy Butcher/Homelander

Summary: Homelander’s got himself trapped. Billy decides to take advantage. It's a good thing he’s definitely not attracted to the cunt.

Notes: There were no Butchlander tickle fics, so I wrote one!

This takes place in an AU where Soldier Boy wasn't captured, and Maeve didn't lose her powers, but Butcher and Homelander have reluctantly teamed up because they're madly in love with each other but can't admit it.

Part 3 of 2 3 4 (definitively no more than 4 chapters)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Read on AO3

Warnings: non-con/VERY dub-con; canon-appropriate level of swearing; bondage; nsfw, explicit; self-indulgent bs straight from my brain

Cunt’s in a real sorry state, red-faced, panting and drenched in sweat. Billy gave him a good workout right there. 

“Let’s clean you up a bit,” he decides.

He gently lifts Homelander’s head, pulls out the cape from underneath and starts drying his face, wiping away sweat and tears and probably a good amount of radioactive micro particles. Homelander winces at first, suspecting another attack but then calms down, and for a moment, Billy is almost certain the bastard’s actually leaning into the touch and sighing softly. 

Fucking great, why does the cunt have to pull this affectionate shit on him all of a sudden, it makes no sense. Nothing about Homelander makes any sense. Or, if Billy is perfectly honest, how he himself has been handling this situation.

He should try and choke this arsehole, stab him, break his nose, see if he can inflict damage in some other way while the supe’s still in this weakened state. Not that it’s bloody likely to work or have any lasting effect, but he ought to at least try, right? Instead, he keeps wiping the sweat off of Homelander’s neck and chest and is rubbing his hair dry. 

“Your turn,” he repeats once he’s done.

“Where’s your lair?” Homelander blurts out like he’s been itching to ask that question all day. 

Billy bursts out laughing. “My what?”

“You know what I mean.” Homelander says. “Your, your headquarter… for you and your, uh, accomplices. Where is it?”

“In your mother’s vagina, that’s where our lair is.”

Homelander sighs and shakes his head in mock disapproval. “Now that’s the kind of answer that would have earned me a penalty, William.”

Billy can’t argue with that. “Know what, love? It still can.” He sits down on Homelander’s elbows, pressing them down with his knees. This supe can struggle and kick all he wants now, Billy is out of kicking range.

He launches a mock attack just to see if it works, and it does. He tries a second time, and it works again. Homelander lets out the most ridiculous yelp and tries to jump away before Billy’s fingers ever touch his skin.

“Don’t… don’t do that!” He snarls once he realizes that Butcher is toying with him.

“That’s fair,” Billy says, “don’t worry, I won’t do that no more.” He brushes the back of his hand over Homelander’s side. It’s the lightest of touches, but it manages to catch the supe off guard. He lets out another high-pitched shriek before coiling and twisting on the floor trying to pin the hand. 

“You ever consider becoming a belly dancer, love?” Butcher teases, and Homelander curses him between bursts of involuntary laughter.

He eventually manages to draw his tied legs up and is trying to curl into a ball - except his arms are still pinned above his head, making it all quite useless.

Billy simply moves his hands up into the armpits, drawing light circles with his finger tips, prompting more desperate giggling and squirming. 

“How-h-how much lo-lo-longer?” Homelander is craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Billy’s mobile because the wretched cunt somehow still believes that he is playing fair and is actually timing his torture.

“But I’m barely touching you,” Billy says, amused. “I’m actually thinking we should count this as a break.”

There is a soft red glow in Homelander’s eyes accompanying a particularly violent fit of giggles, but they only flicker briefly before they go out again. “Fuck you!”

“Tell you what,” Billy says, “if you can guess where our ‘lair’ is,” he’s making scare quotes with his eyes because his fingers are busy, “I’ll stop. And I’ll let you go. How does that sound?”

“Fuhuhucck youu!”

“Not today, love.” Billy’s grin widens, but he stops after just a few more minutes of cruel soft teasing. 

Homelander draws in a sharp breath. Even with nothing but these light touches he’s somehow still managed to work up a sweat and run out of air. 

Billy lets him catch his breath before he gets up and pushes his knees back down. The supe is suprisingly unresisting, letting Butcher uncurl him and spread him out without too much protest. Either he’s getting tired or it’s finally sinking in that there’s not much he can do. It’s only when Billy swings his leg over his knees and sits down on his thighs again that he tenses up and starts squirming and tugging at the pipe again.

Part of Billy wishes he could tie him up properly. He’s only been to Homelander’s bedroom once, and he’s got no plans to ever go there again, but the cunt does have a posh four poster bed that would be perfect for this kind of thing. Homelander’s wrists and ankles would look bloody exquisite in silver cuffs, and he just can’t help but think that being completely immobilized would be the perfect mindfuck for this supe who is so unaccustomed to being physically overpowered. 

“Your turn,” Homelander says, jolting Billy from his thoughts, and he feels almost grateful for it. How the fuck is he sitting here daydreaming about tying up his nemesis in his bedroom in Vought Tower?

“When’s your birthday, love?”

“Now you’re just wasting a question, William,” Homelander says, snickering. “Everybody knows when my birthday is.”

“No, when’s your real birthday?” Billy laughs, but he knows the joke’s on him. He’s found a way to actually torture this cunt for information; he could make him spill all his secrets here and now, make him tell everything he knows. He should be asking about Vought and their illegal experimental drugs, their black sites, what other aces the fuckers got up their sleeves, yet here he is quizzing the cunt about his birthday. Fucking great, Billy Butcher, fucking great.

“Why do you even care?” Homelander snaps.

He didn’t expect the supe to get all defensive about this one. Billy resists the urge to go for another hipbone squeeze. This could be interesting. “Maybe I wanna send you flowers,” he says.

Homelander sighs and starts biting his lip. There’s a look in his eyes Billy hasn’t seen before. “Can we just skip this one?” It’s clear he’s expecting no mercy though; every muscle in his body has tensed up and he’s turning his face away, squinting his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

Cunt doesn’t know his own fucking birthday, Butcher realizes, and somehow it hits him like a train. Vought must have the records but clearly never felt the need to let him know. Did he never ask? Or is this simply not a conversation he would have with his corporate owners? No doubt Billy could make Homelander admit he doesn’t know, but that just feels like partaking in these soulless corporate fuckers’ mindless cruelty. He might as well start buying Vought stock and publicly commending the company for its A+ sentient product management. 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he says. “I get it. You don’t like flowers. Suit yourself. But I get an extra question now.”

“Whatever,” Homelander says, but he actually sounds relieved.

“Alright.” Billy thinks for a moment. He’s got to make this one count. “What crimes did you commit this week? Murder anyone in cold blood? Broke the Geneva Conventions?”

Clearly, he’s not going to learn much about Vought today because for better or for worse his brain has decided it would rather know more about the twisted cunt he’s working with, but at least he’s going to get a confession on video. That’s got to count for something, right?

“I don’t commit crimes and I don’t-” Homelander starts, but Billy cuts him off right then and there. That hypersensitive patch of skin right above his atrocious red briefs has been practically begging for his undivided attention. He is scribbling his fingers from left to right and right to left, and the spot does not disappoint.

“DON’T! DON’T!!” The cunt’s eyes light up again, and Billy can feel the heat this time. Homelander is trying to tense his muscles, but it’s plain he’s about to turn into jelly.

“Who’d we murder this week? Hmm?” Butcher repeats. “And, please, tell me something I don’t already know,” he adds quickly. He really doesn’t need to hear again that Homelander killed a man at a rally; it’s been all over the press, and he’s already given the psychotic cunt a piece of his mind for killing in front of Ryan.

“STOP!!! I can’t FUCKING think!” 

Billy laughs. “Too many to choose from, eh?” He says, but he actually pauses. “Tell you what. You’ve got ten seconds.” Just to drive the point home, he starts counting down.

“Wait!” Homelander wails. “Wait, wait! I need more time!”

“Nah. You’re stalling.” Billy plunges both hands back down, digging all ten fingers into that smooth flat belly, and the reaction is fucking mindblowing.

Temp V’s a real bitch, but Butcher’s glad he’s got it running through his veins right now. Otherwise, he’s not sure he could hold down Homelander, that’s how violently he’s bucking and thrashing now. 

“STOPSTOPSTOP I CAN’T. WILLIAM! PLEASE!!” Homelander is banging his head on the floor, and just watching him is giving Billy a headache. “I DIDN’T KILL ANYONE OKAY! PLEASE! I SWEAR I SWEAR!”

“Did you really just say please?” Billy asks with mock surprise but without stopping. “Fuck, I think you meant it! Say it again!” 

He’s fully expecting Homelander to press his lips shut and at least make an effort to regain some sort of dignity, but he’s dead wrong about that. 

The bloody supe’s begging without any shame or reservation now, pleading with him to stop please stop, promising to be better, to be good, to do whatever Billy wants if only he could please please please stop.

Some people get less sensitive over time, but with Homelander, it seems to be just the opposite. The longer Butcher’s hands linger on a spot, the more the supe is reduced to a quivering bundle of nerves.

The laser hitting Billy’s chest with every particularly violent fit of laughter is beginning to sting, but he isn’t ready to call it a day just yet. He’s still got too much Temp V in his system so the cunt can’t actually melt his skin, but the same cannot be said for his clothes. Billy looks at the growing scorch marks on his leather jacket and sighs.

“Oi! You’re ruining my clothes, love. Cut it out for fuck’s sake will ya.” 

“I CAN’T-” Homelander’s eyes are still glowing, but he is actually crying now, tears of laughter streaming down his face. “I CAN’T… IT'S NOT... I’M NOT… NO NO PLEASE! PLEHEAHEASE STOP!”

Having Homelander so completely at his mercy is giving Billy a rush. He’s wondering if the bloody supe has enough of his powers back yet to read his vitals and knows how much hearing him plead like this excites him. Who’s he kidding though, Homelander doesn’t need super powers to figure out what a pair of regular human eyes can see clearly enough. 

He’s not the only one, Billy realizes with mixed feelings. Cunt may be begging and crying for mercy, but his body is telling a different story.

“WHY DO YOU ENJOY TORTURING ME” Homelander screams, and Billy slows down the pace just a little. It’s still enough to leave the supe squirming and disoriented.

“Easy,” he says. “Because you’re loving it. You should see yourself right now.” 

The cunt’s throbbing erection is visible through the red cloth just fine, but just to make his point, he pulls down Homelander’s briefs. “Beautiful, that.”

Homelander actually looks embarrassed, turning his head to avoid having to look Billy into the eye. “You’re not one to talk,” he mumbles.

Billy suddenly remembers he’ll be able to rewatch, relive this moment as many times as he wants, and fuck it, this clip’s not gonna be admissible in a court of law no matter what he does now, so he might as well go all out.

He wraps his hand around Homelander’s cock and is about to give it a few strokes when there’s a flash and a loud bang right behind him.

He turns around, and through the dust, he can see the Vought cunts moving in, guns drawn, jumpy, trigger-happy as usual, not that they can actually do much with guns at a supe fight. Butcher sighs. Why do these cunts always have to be so fucking dramatic?

When they see it’s just Homelander and Billy, they lower their weapons, but they’re still staring, all ten of them, like they’ve never seen a man with his hand wrapped around another man’s dick before. Or, well, a sweat-drenched panting naked supe with his hands wrapped in a pipe pinned above his head. 

Said supe looks surprisingly unfazed if a tad annoyed as he turns his head towards the Vought men. “Yes? What is it now?”

#tickletober2022 #augtickletober2022 #butchlander #homelander #billy butcher #tw: dub con #shameless tickle fic #butcher and homelander team-up AU #butcher and homelander are IN LOVE #MADLY so #no beta fuck that #pure unadulturated crack fic straight from my brain #maybe if he was a little less fuckable he wouldn't be in this mess

[diejager]

Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3

Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.

You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.

It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.

You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.

You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.

He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.

What a nice roommate you have, no?

Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

#tw: noncon #tw: dub con #tw: dubious consent #tw: dark content #dark content #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #pervy!konig #Pervy!könig #mw2 smut #cod smut #konig smut #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig #könig #könig smut #könig x reader #könig x reader smut #konig x reader smut #konig call of duty #tw: forced breeding #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: somnophilia #dacryphilia #tw drugs #tw: non con #pregnancy #x fem!reader

[distopea]

@nvrcmplt

“  i want to keep you all to myself. i don’t want anyone but us to know the things we do in secret.   you’re mine now. and i won’t let anyone take you from me.  ” //Lilu @ Zodiac

memes for that specific brand of ships (not accepting)

A low huff escaped Zodiac’s covered mouth, his gray eyes full of wrath and fury, while Lilu was bent over him. Once more, the room was mapped with fresh dismambled corpses, the smell of their blood invading the young man’s nostrils. He thought that he was going crazy – his mind was breaking inch by inch every time he was around the demon. He didn’t know for how long he could continue like this; Lilu was nursed deep within his mind, nesting there, and coming out just to tease, take, kill, and manipulate the commander of the Cleaners.

“Mppffff Mmmmh!” Zodiac tried to speak, but the gag was too tightly rolled around his mouth. His tongue was dry, he couldn’t even swallow. Lilu was still parting his legs, claws tracing bloody lines over his thighs, the warmth of his length buried deep inside of him. The pace of his hips was brutal, his thrusts each time harsher than before, his traits twisted into a vicious and satisfied smile. Zodiac knew that Lilu loved it so much. And he hated his body for reacting to his touch.

Bitter tears began to roll down his cheeks, his legs trembling, his hands deeply buried into the man’s jacket. He wished he had the strength to fight, but he couldn’t find it anymore. There was a part of him who loved what Lilu could do to him, another one, the most reasonable but silent one, wanted to break those invisible chains and kill him for good. Kill, kill, kill! Zodiac closed his eyes, bucked his hips to escort the man’s motion. His cock was leaking with precum. 

So good! Argh, he wished it would stop! But it felt so good!

He didn’t want to be his, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t escape it. He was hard now, painfully hard. He nuzzled against the man’s neck, desperate to kiss his skin despite the gag clogging his mouth. He looked at him, cried even more. He looked over Lilu’s shoulder, watched the dead and empty eyes of those people looking at them. Their silent little crowd, the only witnesses of their dirty secret.

Zodiac huffed again, biting the gag intensely. But there was nothing to stop himself from crumbling under that guilty pleasure whenever Lilu was with him.

#; nvrcmplt #⌇bloody hair menace ( 𝙕𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙘 | IC ) #⌇his darkest desires swallowed down the throat of your lie ( 𝙕𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙘 / 𝙇𝙞𝙡𝙪 ) #tw: non con #tw: dub con #tw: gore #; I beg my mutuals to be careful with the TRIGGER WARNINGS #; their relationship is so twisted I swear gfsgd ;-;

[violentlyamerican34]

what is your deepest darkest sexual fantasy?

hopefully on our trip, my boyfriend and i will get tipsy and he’ll take me in the bedroom.

while telling me to be quiet or others will hear 🤫

the big picture though, is i want someone so attracted and obsessed with me they want me wither i want them or not- especially someone im attracted to, the thought of them needing me so much gets me all 🫡🫡

i’ll reblog any yummy smut i like, i usually read non-con 🫶🏽

#tw intox #intox kink #tw noncon #r4p3 k1nk #tw.somnophilia #tw r4p3 #tw.dark content #tw: dub con #tw somno #tw voyeurism #tw dubcon #tw non con #tw dark fic #rough cnc #r4pepl4y #r4p3 fantasy #cnc free use #cnc fr33use

[katsukikitten]

cum here

Warnings: spit, dub con

A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!

A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.

A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.

Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.

You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.

Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.

Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.

Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.

Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.

He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..

Cum here.

“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.

Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?

And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.

Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.

You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?

Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.

Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.

Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.

At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.

Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.

Toxic, crystalline bromine.

"Dynamight?”

“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.

Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.

“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”

Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.

“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.

He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.

“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.

Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.

You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.

Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.

“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”

It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.

Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.

“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.

“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.

Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.

Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.

He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.

You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.

If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.

Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.

Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.

Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.

Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.

Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.

The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.

And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.

“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.

Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.

Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.

“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.

Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.

Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.

Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.

“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.

“Now I gotta return the favor.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou thirst #bakugou birthday bash #bakugou smut #tw dub con

[getodrools]

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

All of them looked at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was no winning.

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

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

Especially seeing how you lived now.

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

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

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

Even the other members flinch.

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

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

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

They couldn't do that to you.

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

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

You squeeze your belly.

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

… You still needed to give him five more.

PINNED ・ JJK MASTERLIST ・ RYŌMEN SUKUNA

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

[victoryverse]

gynaecologist!simon**

tw: dub-con

also: fingering. enjoy!!!!

words: 900

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

part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

“sorry–sorry, dr. simon”

“it’s okay. for now.”

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

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

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

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

"good. stay put, pretty girl"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

tags: @ilovehobi101

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