#kneeling and gagged and maybe bound too??

[geodaio]

Scott Summers would look so pretty with a ball gag in his mouth-

[girlboypersonthingy]

Big reward. I meant for that to be a smut request, my bad.

OMFG I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! Yessss finally some Valentino smut. I love it~ I’m honestly soooo inspired by @sweets4dolls and her Val x bunny!reader smut 🤤 literally so good. He’s so toxic. 10/10 would smash. Go check her stuff out! And I hope you enjoy my stuff too ❤️‍🔥

Notes: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, THIS ENDED UP LONGER THAN EXPECTED OOPS I’m gonna have to excuse myself now, geez 😳

TW: oral s*x (m receiving), DDLG, unsanitary, unprotected s*x, spit, creamp*e, rough, dirty talk, 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Valentino x reader- Superstar 🌟💖

“And cut! That’s a fucking wrap!” Valentino shoots up from his seat so fast his chair tips over behind him as he claps obnoxiously. Boy had stars in his eyes, even his assistant was shocked by his display of pride and admiration. “Damn, baby. That was a helluva show, fuck! That’s why she’s my favorite~” Val smirks as he eyes your figure still up on set, still down on your knees and trembling. He snaps his fingers, yelling out to his back stage crew. “Alright! Come get the vibrator off her, hurry up.”

Yeah…although the scene had ended and the cameras cut at least 2 whole ass minutes ago, you’re still in position waiting for the boss to give you the okay. Down on your knees, hands bound behind your back with thick pink ropes, your pretty lacy lingerie disheveled and drenched in all kinds of different bodily fluids and, of course, Val had one of his most sturdy and powerful vibrators tucked up against your heat, making you grind down against the carpet below you just to get off. The worst part- he made you leave your panties on the whole time. Finally, after a few orgasms had already wracked your body, the vibrating in your crotch disappears, leaving you only half satisfied.

The entire shoot, all he had you do was suck as many dicks as you could, swallowing every single load for the camera. Gagging on cock is hot to some, maybe not to others- but there’s something about how darling you look choking on another demon’s dick that just sets him and his viewers off. Your pretty lashes dusted with tears, your nose and cheeks pink, your forehead shiny with sweat, your bare chest covered in spit and cum, your cheeks and throat stretching to fit every inch. Not that you mind! You’d do anything for Val but damn, you were aching for a real fuck. All the vibrator did was get you prepped and wet and now you need some real friction.

“Everyone, out! Now! I need to talk to (Y/N).” As all his employees scramble to leave the studio, Val walks over to you, still bucking your hips against nothing now. He kneels in front of you, taking your face in his hands. You’ve been staring at his hard on since half way through taping and now that he was right in front of you, dick about to rip through his pants, you feel your walls clenching longingly. “Wow. Holy. Shit.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he stares at your face, your make up smeared under your eyes. “I did okay?” The question has Val scoffing as he looks you up and down, watching as your thighs quiver. “Baby, you did fan-fuckin-tastic. You’re gonna make me so much fucking cash, I’m not gonna know what to do with it!”

With his hands still holding your face, he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, letting his tongue wander into you immediately. You happily tongue him back, leaning into him as you struggle to keep your balance with your hands still tied behind you. Breaking the kiss, his large hands travel down your neck to your chest, his fingers giving your sensitive nipples little squeezes. Val looks down to see you’ve scooted closer to him and you’re still rolling your hips in the hopes of finding something to fill you. He eases your pain by gently thrusting forward, his hard bulge up against your needy crotch for a moment.

“Aww~ I know, amorcito. Such a long shoot with such an empty hole. You must feel so hollow right now, baby. Does my little girl need more?” Nodding frantically, you kiss him again before moaning your pleas into his mouth. “Please, fuck me, Valentino.” His smirk becomes sinister as he leans away, refusing your kisses now. His shift causes you to fall forward into him more, your tits squished against his stomach now. “Ah ah ah. Try again.” His scolding makes you whine, makes tears begin to form in your eyes. “Hmm~ please f-fuck me, daddy~” and within seconds, he’s tearing your once disheveled lingerie completely off of you, your strained voice making his dick twitch.

“Hmm~ yeah, that’s my little superstar.” Within seconds, he had you turned around on your knees once again with your face pressed to the plush red carpet. Val made little effort to remove your panties, leaving them bunched up around your knees. Finally, with your face on the floor, your ass in the air and your throbbing cunt free of the fabric, Val gets a good look at your eager pussy. He yanks off his belt and quickly frees his dick without even pulling his pants down much. He can’t wait much longer and neither can you.

He swiftly leans over, one hand on each of your ass cheeks as he spits on your hole, earning a whine of anticipation from you. With no hesitation, he sits up and thrusts into you all at once, filling every bit of you instantly. “Oh my fucking-“ Val growls loudly as his hands grip your hips, his cock immediately moving at an unforgiving pace. Giving you no time to adjust, he continues to pound into you as he leans forward, putting one hand on the side of your head then forcing it down onto the ground. “Ah~ such a clean little cunt you’ve got, just patiently waiting to be filled by daddy, huh?”

All you can muster up is a collection of moans, whines and gasps. Right as you catch your breath, Val spanks your ass hard and his pace slows. “Use your words~” Despite the stinging hand print on your ass, his voice is soft and sweet, so sultry and exciting. “Yes! Ah- oh! I’ve been waiting for you all day...” Your begging goes straight to his head, pulling a hearty chuckle from him. “You’re such a good girl, amorcito. Always doing exactly what I say, right when I say it. And you do it all sooo welllll~”

His thrusting had stopped completely now and suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, pulling you up to be parallel with his body. Your back against his chest and you now sitting on his dick, he wraps one of his strong hands around your throat loosely and pulls you back against him before whispering in your ear. “Good girls get to cum sooner. You wanna cum now, baby?” And you couldn’t take it anymore, you began to squirm against him. “Yes, yes! Please keep goinggggg~”

And Val obeys, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly then helping bounce you on his dick. He is so strong, he is literally lifting you completely off of his lap before slamming you back down again, making your stomach bulge as he swelled inside you. A moaning mess covered in sweat, you had lost control of your legs and were now relying on him to keep you going. Now you’ve found yourself thanking the stars that you had done good today and impressed him. He was always willing to service his favorites and this was so worth the wait.

He moved one hand up to your neck again, squeezing it as he pants and growls in your ear. With every up and down of your body, you can feel yourself getting close, your tummy feels so full and your walls won’t stop tightening around his dick. “Yeah~ lemme hear you, mi cariño.”

Moaning at a higher volume now, Val couldn’t hold back anymore and he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, drawing blood. As a squeal leaves you, he keeps his mouth latched to you, still thrusting up into your sopping cunt as he licks the blood away. Finally, once you feel yourself fall off the edge of pleasure, your legs tense up against him and your hands bound behind you were searching for something to grasp. “Oh fuck~! Th-thank you, daddy. Thankyoudaddythankyoudaddythankyoudaddyyyyyyy~!” Your cries are harsh, babbles of appreciation pouring from your dry mouth as Val continues to buck up into you.

Without letting you catch your breath, he pushes you back down into the carpet, your weak body going limp as you lay flat against the ground. Panting and whining still, you squeeze your legs together once you realize he’s not inside you anymore. Not a moment later, Val was gripping your bruised hips and pulling your ass back up in the air. Legs shaking violently, you couldn’t control your loud whining as he thrusts back into you again, resuming the same rapid pace as before. Val grunts and hisses at the feeling of your slick dripping down his thighs now. “Hmmph…gonna cum in you. Gonna fill my pretty girl up.” With a firm slap to your already tender ass, Val lets out a rumbling laugh as you pant into the carpet, tears of overstimulation cascading down your burning cheeks.

Already so fucked, you couldn’t even close your mouth for long enough to form a single word. Your only option was to relax into his grip and enjoy it for as long as he lasts. “F-fuck.” Val stutters out as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. With one final thrust, burying his dick inside you completely, he let out a throaty grunt followed by soft sighs. It nearly brought you to another climax feeling his hot cum spill into you. After a few seconds of being still, Val slowly pumps in and out of you, lewd squishing noises sounding from where your bodies connected.

Another hard smack to the ass is followed by Val slowly pulling out of you with his eyes locked on your swollen pussy the whole time. Glancing back at him, all you could see through the blurry tears in your eyes was his huge, satisfied grin as he watched his thick load dribble out of you. “Mm mm mm. You are so delectable. Such a good girl.”

Without another word, Val stands and pulls his pants up, adjusting himself before fastening his belt. You had since collapsed completely, your body heavy and flat against the floor beneath you. Val stepped over your quivering form and skillfully untied your hands with amazing speed. Your arms came flopping down to your sides as you inhaled fully then exhaled deeply. “Get yourself cleaned up and go rest for the night. I’m gonna need you to do all of that lovely hard work again tomorrow. You can do that for me, right baby?”

“Yes, daddy~”

[deltaharrington]

STUCK [SEASON 3 SPOILERS]

PAIRING: Rafe Cameron x Female!Pogue!Reader

WARNINGS: smut, heavy swearing, kidnapping, obx3 SPOILERS

SUMMARY: You were separated from your ex, Rafe, after falling off the Costal Adventure. The Pogues took you in as one of their own. You and Rafe meet again when you’re kidnapped by Singh.

Muffled screams were heard from the hallways as you were dragged to an unfamiliar room.

How did you get here? That was a long story?

A month prior, Rafe Cameron, your boyfriend at the time, had somehow convinced you to run away with him and his family.

You had no idea what he was capable of back then.

When you found out that he helped steal a cross that wasn’t his, and that he tried to kill his own sister, things felt different.

You couldn’t deny that you were in love with him though. It was hard for you to grasp the fact that he wasn’t a good person.

So, you did the thing anyone would have done. You helped Sarah escape.

When both John B and Sarah insisted you came with them, you wasted no time jumping off of the boat.

Rafe nearly shot at the small boat you escaped in. He was expecting you to be on it. Y/n. His Y/n was a Pogue.

Here you were now, kidnapped by Carlos Singh. He had you for a couple of days, claiming he was waiting on something before he could tell you what he wanted.

A large door opened and you were practically thrown into the room, your body slamming against another.

“What the-?” The voice above you spoke. It sounded familiar, and that scared you.

“Y/n? Oh my god!” The voice said, worried. You looked up and we’re met with none other than Rafe Cameron.

He wasted no time, ripping the cloth gag from your lips. At that you scrambled to get away from him, tripping and falling to the floor.

“Rafe? I knew you were apart of this!” You said and the Kook boy tried to reach for you. You tried to wiggle away, but your hands were still tied.

Rafe helped you up, cupping your face in his hands. He was happy to see you. He assumed you got kidnapped by the Pogues, he never knew you went willingly.

“I’ve been trying to find you, sweetheart” He said and your chest rose and fell with anger. He didn’t notice, he was too caught up with the fact that you had survived.

“You won’t have to go with those Pogues again, you’re safe now” Rafe rambled and you shook your head, about to argue.

“I knew this reunion would cause sparks” Singh’s voice from the opening room.

“What do you want from me?” You said and he waved you into the other room. You yanked yourself from Rafe’s grip and you walked into the room, sitting down on a couch.

Rafe followed and sat next to you.

Singh went on a rant about El Dorado and all you could think about was how close Rafe was to you. You hadn’t seen him in a month, and you were sure you had gotten over him.

Now that he was in front of you, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. Well, maybe that was because he was fiddling with the ties that bound your hands together.

“What do you want from me?” You asked Singh and he smiled.

“Your friends, they have a diary” He went on and it clicked for you. They had told you about a diary. Denmark Tanny’s diary.

“I don’t…I don’t know anything about a diary” You said and those words landed you right back in a locked room.

“Y/n, baby, you have to talk to me” Rafe pled, kneeling down in front of your sitting figure. You had finally wiggled your way out of the zip ties that had bound your wrists, and now you were placed on the bed.

“Rafe, I really don’t know what there is to talk about” You said and he looked confused, hurt even.

“You, me, you getting napped by the Pogues? That’s what we can talk about” He said and stood up, pacing.

This was it, you had to tell him.

“I didn’t get kidnapped, Rafe” You said and he stopped, looking towards you “I left with them myself” You added and his eyes widened.

“Why- Why would you do that?” He said and you sighed.

“You killed Peterkin, tried to kill your sister, and you lied to me!” You said “I couldn’t be around you, I was scared, Rafe!” You said and he looked shattered.

“You know I’d never hurt you, Y/n” Rafe said and you shook your head.

“I don’t know that, I didn’t” You said and he moved closer, grabbing your hands to hold in his.

“You never ended things properly, so we’re still together” Rafe said, his eyes tearing up “Y-You’re still mine, baby please” He begged and you shook your head, your eyes becoming teary as well.

“Rafe, we can’t” You said and he reached up towards four face, cupping it “Please don’t do this, not now.” You added and he shook his head, leaning in towards you.

When he kissed you, you felt like your world fell into place. You hated that feeling, but you craved it more than anything.

You couldn’t help but melt into his touch, letting him lean in further to pin you to the bed. He hadn’t seen you in a month, and he longed to feel you in his arms again.

Upon realizing what you were doing, you pulled away, shaking your head “Rafe” You whispered, his thumb trailing across your bottom lip.

“Please, I know you want this just as much as me” Rafe said “I love you, so much” He said and you felt your heart nearly explode.

“I love you too” You whispered and he smiled, letting his thumb caress your cheek.

“There’s my girl” Rafe whispered, pressing his lips against yours again. This time you gave in, missing his touch.

Rafe moved between your legs, pulling you flesh against his hard-on.

“Feel that?” He asked and you nodded “All because of you baby” He whispered and looked down at you. “Haven’t had any in a month” He said “I’ve been waiting on you, only to hear that you left me?” He said and you shook your head.

“That’s right, I’ll have to show you just how pent up I’ve been” He said and you looked up at him, trying to pull him closer.

“Please, Rafe” You begged “I need you, now.” You said and that was all he needed.

Within mere seconds, your clothes were on the floor, Rafe prodding your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Please, Rafe” You begged and that was enough for him, the blonde sliding all the way inside of you, his hips touching yours.

Your back arched at the familiar fullness you felt, a moan left your lips as he attacked your neck, littering it with hickeys.

You both had forgotten the situation you were in, only worried about each other.

Soft moans and the sound of hips meeting filled the room, Rafe moving fast to make you have the best orgasm of your life.

“Rafe! M’already close!” You gasped out and he nodded, a smirk on his face.

“Me too baby, I fuckin’ missed you” He said finally giving you permission to cum.

At his command, you turned into putty, your legs shaking, as you clenched around him, milking his cock.

He rested his head in the crook of your neck after he came, your labored breaths filling the room. It didn’t take too long for you to come down and calm down, slipping under the covers to hide your exposed body.

“We need to get out of here” Rafe spoke softly “You’re mine”

END.

[doll-for-you-11]

This is a long one...

Its the middle of the night. 2 or 3am. Im bored and horny and its gotten to the point I'd do anything anyone told me to do.

I get a random DM some twisted message about wishing he could rape me in the middle of the street while all of my neighbors film it.

My cunt is dripping and none of the normal porn is getting me there. I decide to do something about it.

I strip naked. My pussy dripping down my thighs, I walk outside. My street only has one light, its dark and silent as I walk out to it. Sitting under the light, I close my eyes. Squeezing my tits, rolling my nipples, moaning softly as i trail a hand to my soaked cunt.

Its so wet I can hear it before Ive even pressed a finger inside. Knowing im outside, naked, where anyone could find me is making me hornier than ive ever been.

Just rubbing my slick around the outside of my hole, my clit throbbing, desperate to be touched. More and more slick seeping out, staining the pavement under me.

I slowly push a finger in, moaning at the feeling. My eyes still closed. I begin to pump in and out. Slowly but as deep as I can. Adding a second finger. All I can hear is the noise of my cunt gushing around them as I finger fuck myself in the street.

Just as I'm about to reach down and rub my clit as well, panting and moaning I dont hear the footsteps behind me.

My mouth hanging open, my head tilted back, Im about to cum when Im suddenly choking. My eyes fly open to see a blur of denim as a cock is forced down my throat. He holds the back of my head, forcing himself balls deep as I gag. Trying desperately to push him away but hes too strong.

He begins to skull fuck me. Ruthlessly ramming into my throat, using my hair to push and pull my head onto his cock. Forcing his full length to fill my windpipe with each thrust.

I try to focus and breathe through my nose. Just as I get the hang of it to keep myself breathing i feel the toe of his boot press roughly into my cunt. My legs spread around him, he pushes his foot against me. My clit rubbing against it painfully as he forcefully takes my mouth.

After what feels like forever he rips his cock from my throat, throwing me to the ground.

Dizzy, i try to catch my breath but before i can he's already on top of me, flipping me onto my stomach and kneeling on the small of my back. He pulls my wrists behind me and I feel something cold, wire maybe, being bound around them from wrist to elbow. Pinning them against my back, my shoulders pulled together painfully.

I feel his weight shift back so he's sitting over my knees. A hand forces its way between my thighs, thick fingers prodding against my fuck hole. I cant help but moan as two stretch my tight cunt. They feel so much bigger inside than mine did.

He grunts, his other hand reaching up and around my neck. Choking me as he fucks me with his fingers.

I still havent seen his face. I gasp as he hits a spot inside me I could never reach myself.

How have I gotten here? So desperate to feel something new I put myself in this situation. I went outside, naked to fuck myself like a pathetic whore. I wanted this. Part of me hoped this would happen. Id be manhandled and used out in the street like a prostitute.

But no, im worse. Im letting him do this for free. I wanted him to take me against my will. I wanted him to ruin me.

His hand on my neck gets tighter, he adds another finger. The stretch hurts but I like it. Its not long before I feel it building, my body tenses and just as Im about to cum, he stops. I whine like a bitch in heat. Waiting for him to flip me over and beat me or fill me with his cock but it doesn't come.

My arms are still bound but as I roll over I see no one. He got me to the edge and then left me face down on the pavement.

I wait a bit longer, but he doesn't come back. I force myself to get up and walk home. Spend the rest of the night getting the wire off my arms.

I look in the mirror, spit and tears coating my face, my body dirty and scraped from the ground. My cunt dripping down my legs. Im nothing but a disgusting whore. And all I care about is that I didn't get more.

I call out of work, spending the entire day fucking myself. Using every toy I have, the shower head, flogging my own cunt, but nothing is enough. I need him to use me again.

The next night I do it again. 2am, I strip naked and go out to sit under the street lamp. I sit on my hands and knees, ass in the air for what feels like hours, but he never comes.

The sun is rising by the time I give up and return home. It goes on like this for the next week. Fucking myself all day and sitting ready to be taken all night but it never happens.

Im exhausted by now, my body so desperate to be fucked that I cant take it. I try again, but this time the exhaustion takes over and I pass out.

I don't know how long I'm out, but I wake up tied to the lamp post, my tits being beat with a cane. I scream, but my mind is beyond excited. He finally came back. He's going to use me!

My cunt is dripping and ny desperation clouds the pain. I begin moaning as he canes my tits. He hits them harder and the pain makes me moan louder. I hear the cane drop as he straddles me and forces his cock into my mouth. Face fucking me again, slamming my head into the post im tied to.

I gag and choke around him, but my pussy only drips more. He pulls out, pumping himself, coating my face and tits in thick ropes of cum and I finally see his cock.

He's massive. So big I dont understand how he fit in my mouth. As I gape at his cock I hear him chuckle. He kneels down so we're face to face. "It only fit because I wasn't hard when I started. Id say you're in for a painful fuck, but you're such a little pain slut I bet youll love it." He slaps me accross the face.

"What kind of disgusting whore fucks herself in the street? Hmm? The kind that moans when shes having her slutty milk bags caned? The kind that's so desperate for my cock she sits out her every night with her ass in the air waiting to get railed? The kind thats so desperate to cum she hasnt slept in a week because shes been abusing her cunt all day every day?" He talks to me like a dumb puppy, pouting as he holds my chin, letting me know he's been watching me all week, letting me degrade myself for him.

"Tell me what you want my little rape whore" he coos, groping my bruised tits, making me wince and moan.

"I...I want you to make me cum" I moan quietly, grinding my hips, trying to press my legs together.

"You wanna cum?" He laughs. He bends my legs up, grabbing more rope and tying my legs bent and spread. My dripping, red cunt open on display for him.

"You dont get to cum. Whores dont get to cum. And youre a whore" he slaps my clit roughly, making my body jolt.

"See, if youd been a good girl and stayed inside. Not come back out here like a desperate little cumdump. I would have broken in, raped you properly, filled that little pussy up with my cum, and we both would have been happy" he says continuing to slap and flick my cunt.

"But you just had to be a disgusting dirty depraved little cunt" he says Slapping me accross the face to push each word "and dirty cunts dont get to feel pleasure, though you're so disgusting even hurting you brings you pleasure so Im not sure how to punish a slut like you"

The way he says it sounds like he's used to situations like these. It makes me wonder how many times he's done this. Raped and tortured little sluts on the street. It seems so natural to him. Tying me to a light post and abusing me.

The thought makes me moan and he laughs again. He stands and begins to walk away and I panic. He can't leave me without using me again!

"Please no! Please! I need you to rape me! I need you to use me! I dont care if I cum, but please I need your cock!! Ive been dreaming of it for the last week!"

I yell after him, whining and crying pathetically. He turns, laughing at me. "You really are pathetic. Ive never met such a disgusting cunt. I told you you werent cumming. But I cant pass up abusing a bitch like you. Sit tight my little whore, ill be right back."

I watch as he walks around the corner. A few minutes pass and a truck pulls up, the headlights blinding me as I hear the door open and he's standing in front of me with a duffle bag.

He opens it, digging around before pulling a cattle prod from it. My eyes go wide and I begin to shake my head, trying to get away but I can't move an inch the way im bound. He pulls out a self fucking dildo and some duct tape. Taping in in my mouth and turning it on, making me gag around it unable to scream as he turns on the cattle prod.

He leans close "im going to show you something even a pain slut like you wont moan about. Im going to make you regret asking for this, and Im going to make sure you dont enjoy one second of my cock when I get around to fucking you"

With that he presses the prod to my left nipple, the shock hurts so bad my whole body tenses in pain and before i can come down he hits the right one. Spit pours down my chin as the dildo fucks my throat, mixing with tears and staining my bruised tits.

He laughs as he shocks my tits and stomach, he hits my thighs and the bottoms of my feet. Telling me I should be thanking him for this. I asked for it.

Then he shoves it deep into my spread pussy. He makes sure to hit my clit and get it right in my fuck hole. Tears are pouring, im crying so hard im gagging harder than I ever have before.

He laughs as he holds it to my cunt, shocking over and over as my eyes roll back. I black out from the pain only to be smacked across the face hard enough to make me dizzy.

He throws the prod down, leaning down and grabbing my throat, I know he can feel the dildo as he squeezes. "You dont get to pass out cunt! Youre going to feel everything I do to you" he lets go and slaps me again before turning back to his bag.

The street light and his headlights create a spotlight over me in the darkness. My spread open abused body clear to see to anyone that looked out their windows. The later it gets the more cars I hear on the main road. I wonder if anyone will drive by and help me, or help him.

He comes back to me with a knife and laughs as i clench my eyes closed, but he only cuts my binds. My body so sore I cant try and run and he drags me by my hair onto all fours. Pressing my face to the ground, dildo still fucking my throat. He straddles my shoulders, facing my ass. His weight pushing my face and tits flat to the ground.

I feel something rough brush over my pussy lips, it feels like a course brush. "Dirty little whores need to be cleaned" he says, i can hear the grin as he speaks. "What better to clean you with than a toilet brush?"

My eyes widen as I try to struggle but I can't move as he begins shoving it up my cunt. My eyes water as he starts fucking my already abused cunt with the course brush.

He holds the handle with both hands, aggressively ripping it in and out of my cunt as he laughs. Calling me a disgusting whore that needs cleansing. By the time he stops I feel more than just slick on my thighs.

But he doesn't get off of me. Instead he says "next hole" and roughly does the same to my ass.

This time I do black out from the pain. I just can't take it. I dont know how long he rapes my ass for but when i wake up again he's standing over me with the cane, beating my ass black and blue.

He leans down pulling me to my knees by my hair and growling in my ear "i think its finally time to give you what you wanted"

Im so broken I can't focus on his words, my body limp for his control and he bends me over again and lines his cock up with my ruined pussy.

Despite the pain I sigh at the feeling. His cock fills my pussy so well. He rams into me as a bruising pace. It feels like he's going forever when he finally pulls me up, groping my tits and biting my neck, his cum exploding against my cervix. But again, just as im about to cum, he pulls out , throwing me to the ground.

"I told you, dirty rape cunts dont get to cum" he kicks my pussy and steps on my tits before dragging me down the street. He stops at my house and begins to tie me to the gate. Tits bound, arms behind my back and legs spread. He blindfolds me and leaves the dildo taped in my throat. I feel something long and wooden shoved up my ass, i assume it a broom or a rake and he slaps me again, something warm soaking my hair, his piss, as he slaps me with his cock and leaves.

I can see the light through the blindfold as the sun rises, i hear cars slow down as they pass me. People walk by taking pictures, playing with me. I couldn't tell you how long I was there before a car pulled up and i was cut down and loaded into it. Fucked mercilessly in the backseat.

I pass out before we stop but when I wake up im chained to a pipe in a bathroom, covered in cum and piss. A sign on the door says "Free for all Rape Whore". I guess this is my life now.

And all I can think is Thank you, to the man who showed me what a disgusting slut I was that first night.

[koshkamartell]

No One But Me

chapter warnings: reader is held captive, rope bindings, gagging, descriptions of anxiety and depressive thoughts, mention of sexual assault and murder.

The baleful ferocity in Joel's eyes is so frightening that for a split second you are afraid that he was going to kill you right then and there. You are scared stiff, frozen in place with the fear that he was about to hurt you more than ever before.

But he doesn't.

Joel manhandles you onto the bed to tie you up, but his actions are not heedlessly cruel. He doesn't slap you to subdue your anguished cries or berate you with vicious insults. He simply carries out the task with his jaw firmly squared and his laboured breaths huffing through his nose.

His lips are pressed shut and his eyes stay glued on what he's doing, his hands moving with deft efficiency. He doesn't speak at all. You sob and plead for him to stop, to take you both back to Jackson, to give it one more chance, but he does not meet your eyes or respond to you. He does not acknowledge you as you promise to be good, to be better for him if he only just turns around now to go back home. It is like he can't hear you at all.

Joel wraps the rope tightly around your arms to secure them against the sides of your torso, then uses the remaining length to tie your wrists securely together behind your back. He then kneels down at your feet and ties a shorter piece of rope around your ankles, making it impossible for you to walk. You attempt to move your arms and rotate your wrists but the restraints keep your limbs in place, rendering your whole body almost completely immobile. It is disconcerting how defenceless it leaves you.

You open your mouth to make another plea when Joel reaches for a strip of cloth beside his boot on the ground. He pulls the material taut between his hands and raises it to your face. A surge of steely terror pulses through your veins when you realise his intentions.

"Oh, Joel," you sob pitifully. "Please don't. I w-won't speak anymore, I promise."

Joel continues to ignore you, his lips pressed in a grim line and his brows furrowed as he places the cloth firmly over your mouth and reaches behind your head to tie the gag. Although your nose is unobstructed and you can still breathe, the gag is the final crushing blow to your sense of autonomy. You bow your head in defeat and let the tears splash down to your lap in big fat drops.

This can't be happening. You must be dreaming - this has to be a bad dream, a nightmare.

Joel finishes and pulls back to rest on his haunches. You spy the way his large hands hover over your knees uncertainly, as if he is restraining himself from touching you. When you lift your chin to look at him, you're unsure how to interpret the sight before you.

It is immediately evident that Joel's anger has simmered down considerably. The tightness in his jaw has eased and the hunch of his shoulders is more relaxed. The coarse aggression in his facial features has been replaced by more benign emotion; his eyebrows knit into an almost sorrowful frown and the corners of his mouth are downturned. You think you may see something akin to conflicted woe glistening in his rich brown eyes.

But perhaps it is just your eyes playing tricks on you in your distressed state. Maybe your vision is too clouded to see properly. The Joel you know wouldn't feel remorse for doing this. Would he?

Joel's gaze trails over your bound body before drifting up to your face, but he avoids meeting your eyes. He stares at the makeshift gag instead, then sniffs and shakes his head gently. What is he thinking?

You watch him rise from the floor and lumber over to the fireplace, his boots scraping across the floor planks. Despite the circumstances you want to reach out and cling to him, to try appeal to whatever shred of rationality that could be hiding within his tormented heart.

But it's impossible. You can hardly move an inch with how proficiently he has bound you with the rope and the gag strains taut against your lips. All you can do is weep in adject silence while you watch him prepare your departure from the cabin.

The fire in the fireplace has died down considerably but the remaining flames crackle and the emanating heat continues to warm the inside of the cabin. Joel upturns the logs and ash with the shovel and extinguishes the little fire, the embers sizzling and glowing in its wake. All your hope dies along with the fire.

From the very moment he found out that you were kidnapped, Oscar feels like he is in a race against time. He imagines a giant hourglass hanging above his head, the seeping grains of time taunting him as they distill through the narrow glass neck, urging him to move faster and faster. He knows that is crucial he act on his impulses right now, that not even a minute can be squandered. Every second that passes could be another potential step toward a catastrophic fate.

He was able to convince the gate guards to let him leave town without them interrogating him too much. He lied smoothly enough, telling them that he was scheduled for patrol with Tommy but Tommy had to stay back and sort things out about Joel. Oscar was confident explaining that Tommy told him to go ahead alone and that he would catch up soon enough. It was a far fetched lie but it worked - word had already spread about Joel among the patrolmen and the guards at the gate were too nonplussed to argue with him.

Oscar sits rigid and staunch upon his horse now, directing it to canter away from Jackson as the gates shut behind him. Oscar knows that Tommy would be pissed with him but right now he doesn't care. His patience and inclination to adher to authority and their protocols have been completely overriden by the primal part of his brain, the part that commands him to hunt and kill and defend all that is his.

His.

That's what you are. He's known it for so long now. Whether you want him as a friend or a lover, you're his. His to cherish and love and honour.

He growls and shakes his head, furious with himself for being such a coward and waiting so long to tell you how he felt. Maybe if he hadn't, you wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe he could've protected you from Joel.

He hopes to God that despite being taken against your will, you're uninjured. He hopes that you are warm and sheltered, that you aren't weathering the freezing cold, that Joel has atleast some consideration for your physical well-being. He knows you have never been outside the town, he knows you probably wouldn't cope well with the unforgiving conditions of the land. You must be so scared, so broken hearted and lost.

Once again he imagines Joel hauling you through snow in the open wilderness, you shivering and weeping like a tortured prisoner behind him. The sorching rage burns brighter in his sternum, flickering frenziedly with reaffirmed indignation. He'll find you, goddamnit. He'll find you if it's the last fucking thing he ever does.

Oscar struggles to constrain the garbled whirlwind of pessimistic thoughts and endless questions cycling through his mind. Why had Joel taken you away? What was he planning to do? Where the hell has he taken you? Are you dressed warmly enough? Are you wearing your good boots, the sturdy brown ones you liked wearing when the ground was hardy with icy snow? Did Joel give you time to pack anything, or did he rob you of the opportunity to take any kind of comfort with you?  

Although Oscar does not know the answer to any of these things, he is hell bent on finding you and rescuing you from whatever demented plan Joel has.

His intuition tells him to follow the worn path of the patrol route he is most familiar with. Too much time has elapsed since now and whenever you left town, leaving little to no hope of tracking you using hoof prints; he can only depend on his instinct to guide him. He steers the horse along the path while vigilantly searching for any sign that you had passed along this very course earlier - a piece of clothing, a ribbon, anything that could give him a clue.

He continues riding to the closest check point, the one positioned at the top of a clearing that overlooks a small valley. Despite the morning sun hiding behind the dull grey clouds, the blanket of snow covering the ground sparkles. Oscar's eyes squint and scan over the vast Wyoming landscape before him. The clusters of trees and shrubs dotting the land offer some kind of shield but are sparse enough that he could spot any movement from a distance. He sees no speck of colour or motion in the valley, though. He looks toward the peaks and mountains further beyond the basin and considers how barren it appears.

Did Joel take you eastward? Oscar himself has never been on the south-eastern patrol before, but he has a hunch that there's nothing worthwhile out there.

No, his internal voice decides. His intuition pulls him around to face north-west instead. The surface of the ground is more flat that way, easier to travel along than the more rocky terrain in the valley. Oscar nods pensively to to himself as he surveys the environment. He notes the thick forest covering an extensive area of land. Perfect for clandestine travel. He vaguely recalls that there's even a cabin checkpoint in that direction. Yes, the tugging in his navel seems to beckon him in that way he cannot ignore. Yes. This is the way.

Oscar grips the reins tighter in his hands. He has to follow whatever higher power is guiding him. He digs his heels lightly against the horse and clicks his tongue. The horse whinnies and accepts his command to keep going, starting with a trot before accelerating into a steadfast canter. The glacial wind sails through Oscar's curls and prickles his cheeks and lips but it doesn't bother him; in fact he finds it strangely uplifting and rejuvenating, urging him to soldier on with his rescue mission.

He wishes he could send some kind of telepathic message to you right now to assure you that he's on his way to save you.

I'll find you, honey. I promise.

You feel like a coveted trophy animal that has been hunted down and captured - one that now awaits its inevitable demise, its own slaughter. You might as well be such an animal, considering the way Joel dragged you out of the cabin and heaved you onto the cart with nothing more than an irritated growl.

It hadn't taken long for him to gather whatever belongings he had and to get Tex saddled up again. He moved quickly, a renewed vigour for fulfilling his grand plan coursing through his whole body. It seemed like a matter of seconds before you heard him climb up onto Tex's back and click his tongue to signal the horse to get going. Then you felt the cart lurch and begin to move, and the pieces of your broken heart sank into the sour pit of your stomach.

You lay in the wagon now, your back pressed uncomfortably against the rope and wooden planks. You have been weeping for what feels like hours and your head aches. Your brain still feels foggy. Your body is exhausted and small waves of nausea roil in your stomach every so often, most likely from the lack of food in your belly.

The cart vibrates and rocks gently as it moves over the forrest terrain, the wheels bumping over the rocky snow covered earth in a way that is almost pacifying. You stare despondently up at the dull, grey clouded sky and the passing tree tops above you. The monotonous view has barely changed throughout the last few hours of travelling, each scene blurring into one never ending kaleidoscope. It has a disorientating effect; you have no idea where you are or where you're headed, or how far you've traversed from the cabin, and Joel has not spoken a word this whole time.

Your ears keenly attune to every sound surrounding you; the creak of the wagon wheels turning, the soft clop of Tex's hooves plodding through the snow, the faint wooshing of breezy wind passing through the trees. In any other scenario the harmony of these vibrations could be soothing, but in the current circumstances the noise sounds melancholic and only serves to accentuate how alone you are.

Tears of despair leak incessantly from your eyes and slide down the sides of your face. Despite Joel keeping you swaddled in his coat and a thick blanket the chill still nips at your flesh and bones, and the graze on your chin stings from the cold air. It is a harsh contrast to the comforting warmth of the cabin you woke up in earlier that morning.

You scold yourself for trying to flee, for even believing you could escape from Joel's irrational incarceration; not only is his strength far more superior than yours, his resolve has proven to be unbreakable. It would have been impossible to loose him. Even if you did succeed in running away, it would have only been a matter of minutes before he tracked and ensnared you once again. He's all the things you are not. Cunning, mighty, tenacious. You are total opposites, your personalities in stark contrast to one another in almost all respects.

A multitude of memories circle through your mind while you lay powerless in your bindings. You find yourself reminiscing about the first few months of knowing Joel, how everything had been so innocent and radiant and so exciting and thrilling. You had never been in love before. You had never felt such an electric attraction to anyone they way you did with Joel. You remember the fluttering in your stomach every time his rich brown eyes watched you, the pleasant shivers that would crawl up your spine whenever the baritone of his voice caressed your ear, the impatient throbbing inside your core when his fingers grazed your skin.

In the beginning, when the mystery of Joel's character was so alluring, everything about Joel seemed attractive to you. His demeanour had always been gruff and stern, but you had also witnessed the softer edges of his nature at times, particularly when he interacted with Ellie. You found his protective dedication to his daughter so endearing. He personified the role of a reserved gentleman - a perfect match for your own shy personality. He was able to demand respect from those around him without even uttering a single word. He radiated a fastidious masculinity that appealed to the lost, lonely little girl you kept tightly concealed within the depths of your heart.

Everything had been so exhilirating...until it began to hurt. You cannot pinpoint just when the relationship (or whatever Joel had refused to call your bond at that stage) had begun its slow descent into depraved obsession. There had been no specific event or moment that signified the change from muted courtship to fixated perversion. In hindsight it had been almost imperceivable.

You sift through the snapshot memories projecting in your imagination like a kind of dim montage. All the milestone instances of passion and love flashed like a shooting star exploding in the night sky.

The explosive first time you kissed. The first time you felt the delicious, intoxicating stretch of Joel's cock entering you. The first time he held his massive hand against the column of your neck and squeezed just enough for you to feel that bliss filled floaty sensation. The first time he smiled - genuinely smiled - at you, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement at some silly joke you had told he and Ellie.

The first time he had shown you just how petulant and sullen he could be when you had gone out with your friends to the Tipsy Bison. The first night he had made you kneel before him and let him fuck your mouth. The first time you suspected that he may have loved you, too, when you surprised him with a birthday cake and caught a sheen of adoration gloss over his irises.

The first slap Joel's calloused hand had delivered to your face when he had been plunged balls deep inside you. The subsequent ones he had delivered both in and outside the bedroom. The first time he had called you his perfect girl after you swallowed all his cum without choking, how it had made your cheeks blush and your tummy somersault. And then the following night, when Joel insisted he start training your throat properly, and how he held you down on his cock those few extra seconds despite your panicked smacks to his thigh, his gravelly voice praising you for being a good little slut.

You feel disgusted with yourself. You should have been strong enough to stay away from Joel. You should have devoted more of your time and energy to your friends, to your teaching, to servicing the community. If you had, you would be in Jackson right now, dancing with Kate and Rhi and helping organise Cassie's wedding and helping the kids at the library find their favourite comic books. You remember the smiles and laughter you shared with your students and your friends, and you hate yourself for not appreciating those precious, joyful times until this moment.

But none of that matters now. The chapter of your life in Jackson has been firmly shut. Those moments of happiness will never be replicated. The people you've come to know and love there will become ghosts of your past, just like your mother and father, and one day you'll be unable to recall their faces. Maybe they will forget you, too.

You must surrender to whatever fate Joel has chosen to bestow upon you. Whatever had transpired between Joel and Ellie was clearly catastrophic, given that he was willing to leave her behind in search of a new life. He would never leave his daughter, the most important person in his life, the one he is so fiercely protective of. This fact alone cements your belief that you will not returning. You wonder how Ellie feels now, what she might be thinking when she hears the news that he's left. You try to picture her face. Would she be sad? Angry? Relieved?

And your friends, how would they react when the gossip spreads throughout the community and reaches their ears? And Oscar?

Oh, Oscar. His face enters your minds eye and you can see him as clear as day; his dark brown eyes and the earnest sensitivity they always seem to convey, the distinct square shape of his jaw and his soft lips, his prominent nose, the lush black and grey curls of his hair. To think you will never lay your eyes on him ever again causes your heart to clench with profound sadness.

You ruminate for what seems like forever. Your thoughts progressively snowball into a turbulent storm of repetitive fantasy scenarios, scenes and faces gradually blurring into one another until you begin to feel faint and light headed. The nausea inside your belly and the pounding in your head intensifies until you're forced to squeeze your eyes closed in an effort to quell the sickness.

You are finally granted mercy when you pass out and descend into a black void of dreamless slumber.

As the day goes on the sun remains subdued by the dark grey clouds painting the sky. It creates a sombre backdrop to the rugged landscape that seems to stretch on forever. Oscar can sense that evening is creeping closer, and so he needs to maintain the steadfast pace he's been riding with in order to achieve some headway.

The ever present hourglass hangs precariously over Oscar, its proverbial weight crushing his optimistic spirit with every gallop of his horse's hooves. He rides for several miles over stretches of flat earth and forest before he finally finds something that could possibly offer clues to your whereabouts.

A short distance ahead a small building comes into his peripheral vision. As he approaches closer to it he realises its a cabin - one that he is sure is used as a checkpoint for one of the patrol routes. That intuitive force flares once again within his lower belly and it guides him straight to the door of the cabin.

Oscar tugs the reins to command his horse to halt, then hastily dismounts from the saddle. His actions are clumsy, his brain too distracted by the urgency of the situation, and he lands heavily on his foot. He stumbles and a shooting pain reverberates from his heel to his ankle, reigniting his old injury. His face contorts with agony and he hisses through his teeth.

Fucking hell, of all the times this shit could happen, why does it happen now?

"Fuck," he seethes aloud, gritting through the throbbing hurt to stagger up to the front door. He twists and heaves the wooden door open and rushes inside the cabin as quickly as his smarting ankle will allow.

Oscar's eyes search wildly through the interior of the small cabin, his orbs bouncing from each piece of furniture to every space and every visible nook. He calls out your name once, then twice, but all that responds is the deathly quiet within the house. His heart sinks when he realises you are no where to be found. He exhales a heavy sigh, disheartened and defeated.

Oscar stands in the middle of the cabin and roughly cards his fingers through his hair. Where are you? What if he's too late to get to you? Oh God, please don't let it be too late. The crawling sensation of hysteria begins to bubble inside his chest, but Oscar quickly quashes the feeling.

"Keep it together," Oscar scolds himself aloud.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose. Be calm. He exhales through his mouth. Stay calm. He repeats the sequence twice more, patient and unhurried, until he feels the panic completely evaporate from his body. Now, focus. We need clues.

His head swivels around to scour the place once more. The bed is unmade, a blanket sitting in a crumpled heap on the mattress. The sole table and chair perch close by, unoccupied by any clutter. Across from the bed is the fireplace.

Oscar is suddenly struck by the realisation that the inside of the cabin is relatively warm. When was the last time a patrol team came here?

He saunters over to the fireplace and crouches down to inspect the logs in the hearth. Oscar reaches out to trace his fingertips along the stonework bordering the hearth, not expecting to feel the faint warmth that greets his skin. Shit, it's still warm. He peers into the nook and surveils the small bundle of partially burnt logs sitting amongst clumps of grey ash. His eyes widen when he spies the orange glow of a burning ember admist the heap of ash.

Someone was here. In just the past few hours, someone had been here. It had to be you and Joel.

Oscar scrambles to stand up and run back outside the cabin. If you were here, there would be foot prints or hoof prints or something close by. There's been no snowfall this afternoon - any prints would be fresh enough to still be distinct enough to be visible. He scours the panorama before him with great concentration.

Please please please.

Then it hits him - a trail of half circle imprints in the snow leading away from the cabin.

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and blinks a few times, hoping his eyes aren't decieving him. He's in luck, though - they are indeed hoof prints, albeit shallow, but they really are there. He studies the trajectory of the tracks and observes that they head diagonally toward a narrow opening amongst trees and shrubbery. There's where he's got to go.

A fierce surge of victorious convinction floods Oscar's guts. This is the path that'll take him to you, he's sure of it. He wastes no time hoisting himself back up on the saddle of his horse, paying no heed to the throb in his ankle.

"Come on," he instructs the horse with a firm tug of the reins and a tap of his heels. "We gotta go get my girl."

It is close to nightfall when you and Joel finally arrive at the raiders cabin. He had wanted to arrive well before sunset but things hadn't gone according to the vague plan in his mind. He hadn't planned spending much time at the cabin, let alone half a day, but he had also not anticipated the possibility of being so thoroughly exhausted.

Those hours of rest proved to be crucial, though, as he had woken up feeling energised enough to complete the last and longest leg of the journey. He  couldn't feel too irked about arriving late when his senses were sharper and the strength in his body was reinvigorated. As much as it pains him to admit, he isn't a young man anymore.

Besides, there was still enough light to check out the area and do a sweep of the cabin before the dark of the night sets in. It was imperative that Joel carry this out as soon as possible. Although they had wiped out the raiders during their last mission, it was still vital for Joel to check that no one was lurking inside the cabin, infected or not. Anyone or anything could have taken up residence in the area since then and the last thing he needed right now was a surprise hiding in the shadows.

Joel tugs on the reins and mutters woah boy to signal for Tex to come to a halt. The horse stops just outside the cabin and obediently waits for Joel to dismount. Joel lets out a weary grunt as he descends from the saddle, the dull ache of his joints  flaring as he finally stretches his legs and walks. He ties the reins to the railing of the cabin porch and then pauses to stroke the horse's muzzle. As he whispers praise to Tex Joel glances past the horse's head to make sure the cart is still intact and secure.

He hasn't heard a sound from you since he laid you in the cart - not that you could speak or anything. You hadn't let out so much as a whimper the whole time.

Joel faces back to the cabin and begins to make his way up the porch steps. From the outside, the raider's cabin is a one storey log home of impressive structure and aesthetic. He can easily tell that the foundation of the dwelling is solid and its construction durable, the thick logged walls providing more than adequate insulation from the elements. He can imagine how it would look after you've settled in and made it home - smoke puffing out from the chimney atop the roof, piles of chopped firewood stacked on the porch, a couple of hunted rabbits strung up by the door awaiting dressing.

Joel withdraws his pistol from his pocket and enters through the front door with careful, calculated steps. He feels no fear or anxiety as he wanders through the cabin, for the many years of constantly being on guard have trained him to remain calm while cautious. He's primed to confront and fight any source possible danger with confidence. It doesn't take long for him to investigate the place and determine that it is clear of any life.

Joel returns outside, the porch wood creaking under the heavy tread of his boots. He tucks his gun back into his pocket and ambles to the cart behind Tex. He peers into the tray and sees your form covered by the thick blanket, your head lolled to the side and your eyes closed, the skin around them red and puffy. Even like this, you are still the most beautiful thing in this world, he thinks, and his withered heart aches at the sight of you.

He swipes the hair from your face and smooths it back. You must have fallen asleep, exhausted from crying or from the tranquilising effects of the pills, or perhaps from a combination of both. You will wake up eventually and see your new home. You will come to accept that this is where you'll live, with no more arguments or trying to run away. You will come to understand why he's done what he has and you will be grateful for it.

Joel slides his hands underneath you body and hoists you into his arms. You remain limp and asleep, your head tilting backwards like a ragdoll. He carries you up the porch steps and to the cabin like a groom carrying his bride.

"Here we go," he whispers to himself as he passes through the threshold. "Home sweet home."

The man had been lurking alone throughout the Wyoming wilderness for months now. He had managed to survive the harsh conditions of the land with little more than a set of knives, a rifle, and the gritty set of skills he had acquired throughout his many years as a raider. He had always been ruthless and resourceful, wily and fearless, a man determined to survive in this world through any means necessary - including the slaughter and defilement of anyone who got in his way.

And although he was a hardened survivor, Lyle was also a man grieving the loss of the group of men who had been his companions for many years. He was the last one left of his band after those godforsaken Jackson cowboys had discovered them going about their business and decided to fuck with them.

Lyle and his gang of raiders had crossed the state line into Wyoming to see what they could plunder. They had heard talk of a well established settlement somewhere but decided to steer clear of it, atleast for a while. They didn't want to give up their lifestyle in favour of living in a commune and sharing and all that utopian bullshit. They also knew it would be suicide to try stage a coup when they were significantly outnumbered.

Giving the community a wide berth, they had eluded the Jackson patrols for quite some time, but their good luck eventually ran out when they got complacent. A clan of townsmen came for them, chasing Lyle and the gang for weeks, nipping at their heels like a pack of wild dogs with the scent of blood in their snouts. They managed to evade the bastards for a couple weeks, until one night they ambushed and attacked. One of the raiders, Rick, took a shoot at one of the cowboys and struck him in the shoulder before he got gunned down himself. They put up a hell of a battle, all of 'em, but the cowboys had the added advantage of better weapons and stronger bodies.

In the end the Jackson cunts massacred them, but Lyle had managed to survive and escape by the skin of his teeth. Amidst the chaotic flurry of gunfire and screaming he had gone unnoticed when he scrambled for cover behind a massive log. Lyle had intended to stick around but when the gang started dropping like flies he made a run for it. He might have been considered a coward for fleeing like he did, but what else could he do?

It's not like he took the easy way out either. Lyle ran for hours through the fucking forest and into the mountains to dodge those cowboys. He endured countless days and nights hiding in treetops and starving and enduring the freezing cold. He lived like an animal all the while mourning his brethren and their glory days.

Lyle had abandoned the group's old headquarters after the battle. He had been afraid that Jackson would return at some point to ransack the group's belongings, or even to track him down and kill him. It was better to stay away, atleast for a while. But the search for other houses and communities to raid proved to be fruitless ventures - every place had been picked to the bone.

Lyle had been  on his own for several months now, but the chances of long term survival were growing more dire each day. His ammunition was dwindling and he hadn't caught anything more than a few rabbits this past week. He had no other choice but to return to headquarters and try his luck.

He grits his teeth against the harsh wind as he trudges through the snow in the direction of the cabin, the soles of battered his boots close to falling apart. He still has roughly three miles of ground to cover, but with nightfall already settled over the land and his feet swelling with each step he decides to stop and set up camp for the night. 

Lyle succeeds in finding a suitable shelter to tide him through the night. A rocky alcove partially hidden by shrubs offers a safe and dry place for him to get some sleep. He clambers inside and sits up against the wall, grumbling at the painful throbbing of his feet. He paws at the splitting tip of his right boot and sighs.

Once upon a time he never had to worry about his feet getting frost bitten. He had  pillaged an array of clothes, shoes and weapons over the years. Most of his possessions came from the rag tag groups of survivors that would come wandering into the state, all of them weak and pathetic and no match for a raider like him. If he saw something he liked he just took it, whether he needed it or not. But not without having a little fun as well.

He remembers the time he slit a man's throat and stole the boots from his bleeding corpse. They had been a fine pair of shoes. He even took the time to try them on right before he raped the man's distraught wife.

God, what he wouldn't give for a decent pair of boots right now. Who would have thought he'd end up like this? His life had been completely fucking decimated. And it was all because of those communist pricks. Lyle's stomach had long adjusted to the perpetual torment of hunger but his thirst for revenge remained bitterly unsated. It became a malignant obsession that haunted his imagination.

One of these days I'll get 'em, he thinks. Burn their whole town to the fuckin' ground.

When Tommy contemplated death, he hoped that his time on this earth would come to an end when he was a very old man. He pictured being in the company of his grown sons and Maria in his own home in Jackson. But unfortunately for Tommy, the stress of this day was making him feel on the verge of a heart attack.

It was just before noon by the time the council had convened to discuss the appropriate course of action to take regarding yours and Joel's departure. The council members bombarded Tommy with a battery of questions before they deliberated and debated what should happen.

"How do you know she didn't go on her own free will?" One of them asked him.

"Look, I can't give you any solid evidence that she was kidnapped," Tommy answered honestly. "But she never expressed any desire to leave before. It just ain't who she is. Her friends would attest to that, too."

"Why would Joel want to leave Jackson?" Another piped up.

"As I said before, he had an argument with his daughter and it really upset him." Tommy explained solemnly. "And when my brother gets upset he tends to lose his ability to stay calm."

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam. Maybe he needed some time away and she agreed to go with him." One of the council members suggested. Tommy couldn't stop the derivise scoff that fell from his mouth.

"No," he retorted sharply. "That Henley boy said he saw my brother leave with a wagon full of God knows what. I got a feelin' she was bein' hidden. If Joel's left Jackson, he's left for good, and he's taken her with him."

Maria reached out and grasped Tommy's hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He squeezed her hand in return and shot her a small smile of appreciation.

"My husband knows his brother better than anyone else," Maria stated firmly. "If he believes Joel is a danger to himself or anyone else, then his concerns should be taken seriously or else someone could get hurt."

The council members then conferred with one another while Tommy impatiently paced the room awaiting their verdict. After what seemed like an unnecessarily long time to Tommy, they announced their decision with sage poise.

Tommy's appeal for a rescue patrol was granted permission to find you and Joel.

However, the patrol was not to commence until the following morning, just in case you and Joel were to return within the next 18 hours.

Tommy stormed out of council headquarters filled with impotent rage. When Maria eventually caught up to him she saw tears pooling her husband's eyes.

"What if he kills them both?" Tommy whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Maria, what kind of man would I be to not stop that?"

She wrapped her arms around him and held him as he weeped.

Joel was curled behind you, his arms wrapped securely around your frame, his face nuzzled into the back of your hair. You had been asleep for hours now with no sign of waking. You hadn't even stirred when Joel unwound the rope from your body and removed the material gagging you. Fuck, did he give you too many sleeping pills?

He had left some rope binding your wrists, though, and had tied the end to the bedframe. It was just long enough to allow you some wiggle room but still restricted any wide range of movement. It could be distressing for you to wake up like this, but Joel couldn't chance you trying to run away again.

He cuddled you tighter to his chest and sighed contentedly. He didn't even think to roll over and lay on his right side. He was too tired to remember, his body and mind overcome with fatigue from the events of the past few days. All he wanted to do now was hold you against his body and let himself succumb to the peaceful sleep he so desperately needed. His eyes drifted shut and soon a light snoring began to rumble through his chest.

He didn't even hear Lyle creak open the door to sneak into the cabin.

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[take-taker-taken]

apologies if i’m too vague but maybe some taker x femreader with reader being tied up and used… 🫣

First of all - apologies, Anon, that it took so long for me to get this done! It was ABA Taker in my head as I wrote it, but feel free to imagine any incarnation that you please.

Untitled

He leans against the door frame, a mildly amused expression on his face. “You ain’t gonna get out of that, but keep trying - it’s fun to watch.”

You’ve been bound, naked, in a hogtie position for an hour now and he’s done nothing except come into the room every so often and look at you. You’d kept calling out to him initially and then he’d come in and shushed you patronisingly before gagging you.

“Y’know, you’re tryin’ hard to look all mad but I bet your pussy’s wet, huh?”

You glare at him, refusing to answer - you both know that he’s right but clearly wanting to prove a point, he walks over and takes hold of the rope that’s looped around your torso. He drags you easily around and delves his hand between your legs and of course his fingers come out glistening.

You groan out the frustration as he takes a minute to tease your nipples, alternating between gentle stroking around each areola to harder pinches and twists.

“Horny… desperate… little slut,” He mutters as he leans down and nuzzles into your neck. You whimper through the gag as his stubble scratches over your skin. “You think you can handle me, huh? You think you can take everything I’m gonna give you?”

“Mmmhmm!” You breathe in the scent of him. God, please let him get started soon!

He chuckles quietly at your muffled declaration and again works his hand between your thighs, this time pushing one thick finger up inside you. You moan at the sensation and try to thrust your hips forward - if he wanted to he could use this thumb to tease your clit��

“Let’s see, shall we?” He lifts his head again though doesn’t cease the slow in and out movement of his finger. “Now you listen carefully, slut. I’m gonna get you out of this position and you… you’re just gonna lay right there, like the fuck toy you are, got it?”

Your eyes close and you nod, wondering where this is going. He makes a satisfied noise and then withdraws his finger, wiping it against your thigh before pulling you over on to your front and pulling apart the knots that sit against your lower back. Anxious not to give him any excuse to stop and leave you again, true to your word you don’t move - even to the point of keeping your legs folded back in an imitation of being tied.

“Actually managing to do as you’re told,” He comments under his breath and then in a blur of movement, he unfolds your legs and drags you towards where he stands now at the foot of the bed. “Bend your knees,” He says as he takes hold of your ankles and urges you into position. He pulls your knees wide apart and you moan into the gag at the feeling of being so exposed. He produces a roll of bondage tape and proceeds to wrap it around your shin and thigh, binding them tightly together to keep your knee bent. He repeats the action with your other leg and then steps back and smirks down at you as he undoes his belt and then slowly begins to unbutton his jeans.

“Not getting away from me now,” He says, moving to kneel on the edge of the bed and shoving his jeans down his thighs. “All you can do is lay there and take it.” He bears down on you and easily captures both your wrists in one of his huge hands before lining himself up and pushing in. He goes slowly and your eyes close at the delicious stretch; your moan this time is one of satisfaction. His free hand holds one of your knees, ensuring that your thighs stay spread wide apart as he pushes deep inside. He pauses briefly as his hips fetch up against you and you open your eyes to find him smirking.

“Think you can take everything I’m gonna dish out…” He says quietly with a shake of his head. “Let’s see about that.” He draws back and then begins to fuck you in earnest, setting a fast pace as he holds you down. You revel in the feeling of being so overpowered and then he moves his hand from your knee up to your breasts and gropes you, squeezing just to the edge of ‘too much’. You cry out behind the gag but it’s far from a cry of pain and he laughs, low and sultry.

“Yeah, go on - let me hear you.” He doesn’t slow the pace as he slaps first one breast and then the other, alternating the smacks until about a dozen blows have been delivered. He releases the grip on your wrists but you leave your hands where they are and then he works his fingers behind your head and frees your mouth from the gag. After tossing it to one side, he rests his hand around your throat; not squeezing, but the feeling of intent is there and you swallow just to feel the slight restriction.

“Fuuuuck…” You whisper as you picture how you must look right now… forcibly spread open and held down while he uses your body. As if reading your mind he thrusts in deep and then grinds his pelvis in small circles before pulling out entirely and you whimper at the loss.

“Look at you… laid there like a good little whore. Legs open wide and that wet hole just beggin’ for me to fill it up.” He puts his hand on your torso and urges you round with a slap to your leg for good measure. “Turn over, slut.”

With your legs taped up he has to do most of the work and then you’re balanced on your knees and you scrabble to get your hands under you, but he places a firm hand between your shoulder blades and pushes you to the mattress. There’s a few seconds’ stillness and then he’s pulling your arms back, and you hear the rasp of the bondage tape again and then he makes short work of binding your wrists together in the small of your back.

“Please…” You mumble into the bed and then turn your head to the side. “I can’t…”

Everything stops.

“Can’t handle it?” There’s no sneer in his voice and he gives your bound wrists a quick squeeze. You know this is an out, but you’ve no intention of taking it.

“Can’t touch myself,” You whimper and he huffs out a laugh.

“Damn right you can’t,” He says, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “This ain’t about you.” He slides his dick back inside you and gives a few long, leisurely strokes. “This is about me having you as my own personal fuck toy.” He picks up the pace again and you sob into the mattress because this is everything you’d dreamed it would be.

“You look good all tied up, y’know.” His voice is starting to betray his exertion. “Gonna keep you like this more often - ready for me to use whenever I want…” You give a full body shudder at his words and he smacks your ass. “Yeah you like that idea don’t you, slut? Me taking those holes whenever I please.”

“Uh huh…” You whimper, unable to form words because he’s pounding into you now, chasing his orgasm. His grip on your hair becomes painfully hard and he releases into you with a groan, pulling your head back until your face is turned up to the ceiling.

Still inside you he pauses to catch his breath, running his big hands all over your body hungrily - stroking, squeezing and pinching. Eventually he withdraws and turns you on to your side, positioning you carefully so that your bound arms don’t place too much strain on your shoulders. You feel his cum trickling out of you on to your thigh and let out a shuddering breath as he stands and pulls his jeans back up.

“That was good,” He says as he fastens the buttons. “Definitely coming back for some more of that later.” He moves to the side of the bed and retrieves the gag which you obediently accept back into your mouth, laying still as he fastens it. He looks your over for a minute and then leans down and kisses your cheek. “And who knows? If you’re good, I might let you come, too.”

With a chuckle he turns and leaves, no doubt headed back to the TV and whatever sports game takes his interest while you lay there, bound and gagged, already hoping it’s not long until he returns to use you again.

TTT

[izvmimi]

cw: bodily injury. depression. violence. vengeance themes.

You kneel, shoulders hunched over your toilet bowl, the sour taste of stomach acid still lingering on your tongue. Despite the minutes of retching that felt like hours, you have yet to stop shaking, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. It's the third time you've woken up screaming in the past couple of days, and you are afraid to stand up, save you catch a glimpse of your own still swollen and battered face in the mirror and lurch anew.

You can't go on like this.

Legs semisolid and cold like refrigerated Jell-O, you clamber up to your feet. Now that your nausea has abated for a moment, you might as well attempt to go back to sleep. Unlikely, but you can still dream.

Your one-bedroom apartment is frigid in the wee hours of the morning. Shivering, you limp back to bed and curl into fetal position under paper-thin sheets. If you sleep with anything heavier, you panic and feel as though you are suffocating; any less covered, and you feel insecure and naked, like someone could snatch you away at any second. Again.

Izuku had warned you early on that you could be a target at any time, and it had explained his cautious, slightly-too-tight hold on you always, but the optimistic part of you had always tried to encourage him to trust the safeguards he put in place for you. You'd convinced him that you were strong, and that you were careful, and you'd be fine. Once he'd promised you and himself that he could protect you, always, you'd both breathed out in relief.

Things would be fine, you told yourselves.

This, however - this, you hadn't been quite prepared for. Getting lifted on your way back from your job, drugged and thrown in the back of an unmarked vehicle, and waking up bound and gagged staring into masked faces with unconcealed, greedy smiles, had never been part of your life's plan.

He'd promised to protect you.

Where was he now?

Every bone in your body felt splintered, and every muscle in your body sore. It's still hard to breathe, and it is a miracle that you can still move. Your assailants, whoever they were, had said they were just “sending a message”, which is presumably why they’d let you live. Once they had finished torturing you, they’d tossed you in the back of an alleyway like Saturday’s trash. You dragged yourself home, monitoring the bruises that bloomed darkly on your face for anything suspicious enough to suggest head trauma. Anything short of those signs and you wouldn’t go to the hospital. There was nothing you’d be able to explain to the doctors anyway and the idea of being proven wrong felt too much to bear. Plus you're too afraid to leave your house anyway.

All you can think about is the strength of the deadbolt on your door, and whether the door is even locked or not, but you feel too drained of energy to get up and check it for the fifth time today. It was an incredible thing to be so weak and yet so emotionally activated. You wonder if this was what it was like to be prey, finally terminally exhausted by your predator’s chase and laying down to accept death.

A tear, maybe a couple, maybe several, escape your eyes before you finally drift off to sleep.

---

The next morning, you wake up encased in warm, strong arms. Your body kicks into sympathetic overdrive and you shriek, kicking and screaming as the embrace only grows tighter.

“___, it’s me! Babe, calm down, listen...  Breathe, baby..." He calls your name again, whispering it softly. "It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Izuku's voice despite attempting to be soothing is as alarmed as you are as he pleads for you to calm down. Once you stop fighting him and start crying softly instead, he nuzzles his chin into your neck, whispering kind, reassuring statements in your ear in between gentle kisses.

“I’m here… I’m here… I’m sorry, but I’m here now, babe. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” He repeats over and over again. You are still sobbing uncontrollably, but now you have shifted, and your hands cling to the fabric of his shirt. His scent is familiar and safe, and you're at home as you cry into his chest. You don't think of the fact that he's back in Tokyo earlier than he should be or wonder how he has entered your home as much as you had deadbolted the door and barricaded it with all your furniture. You can’t exactly describe how you feel; it isn't relief or reassurance that he brings, but a validation of what you had been through.

You don’t remember how long you stay in his embrace like this, but it feels like forever. 

Izuku doesn't ask immediately who hurt you. Instead, once you’d stabilized enough for him to release you, he finds a comforter to wrap around your body, quickly passing his eyes over the length of it, taking in the extent of your injuries. This time, the pressure wasn’t too much for you. You sit still, your body numb, staring into nothingness. He disappears for a moment, and when he returns, he's carrying a bowl of soup which he feeds you wordlessly. You don't look at him as you open your mouth every so slightly.

It's too quiet in your apartment. Your mind races but with no thoughts.

Izuku sets down the spoon once you stop accepting it. 

“___."

Your eyes focus in his direction. The worry is gone from his face, and now a chilling calm has taken its place.

"Do you remember what they looked like?"

His voice has the type of evenness to it that seems contradictorily off-kilter.

You don’t respond. He doesn't press you. Instead, he spends the rest of the day with you, watching you carefully. Every time he sees you wince as you move, you can see his fists clench and unclench.

There's somewhere he has to be, you think. Then you say it out loud.

"Izuku, you don't have to watch me like a hawk. I'm fine. I've been fine for the past few days."

You're lying and you can tell he's upset that you are from the look on his face. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, and a muscle in his jaw tense.

"You don't look fine," he mutters. "Why didn't you go to a hospital?"

"Didn't want to."

The answer is couldn't.

He gives you a long look, but he doesn't press it.

----

Once night has fallen, he has had enough of seeing you suffer. A few phone calls are made in hushed tones on the balcony. You try not to listen in, but he's talking to the police department, then other heroes. Gathering information. Someone says something that causes him to snort from his nostrils, but then you can feel it, the little static in the air that betrays the use of his Quirk, small electrical discharges flowing from his fingertips.

Izuku returns from the balcony and slides the glass door. You look at him and blink, wondering if he'll tell you anything. He smiles at you, but it looks somewhat pained.

“I’ll be back.” He reassures, kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll right this.”

Your eyes widen. You don't want Izuku to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to form the words to tell him to stay.

Or even to ask 'how'?

Despite the fact that he leaves, you finally fall asleep, exhaustion overcoming you faster now that you've had even a second of relief from stress. You're not exactly sure how long he's gone this time, but you bolt awake when you hear the doorknob turn yet again, your heart thumping hard in your chest.

The first thing you note is the thick, unmistakable coppery smell of blood permeating the room, enough that your stomach turns.

You can't see Izuku well enough in the dark aside from his green eyes that glow ever so slightly, and the ever-persisting static from his twitching fingertips, barely perceptible.

"Izuku?" you ask. He looks almost forlornly at you, then disappears into the shower.

He's in there for nearly an hour.

Once Izuku steps out, once he's done washing himself free of dirt and grime and blood and whatever else, he curls up next to you, anchoring his arm against your waist. You are facing away from him, and your heart still beats terribly fast in your chest, and you can't bring yourself to tell him how much him touching you makes the pain in your chest worse.

Clothing soaked in red rests on your bathroom tile. Your love will never be squeaky clean again, no matter how wholesome his image is.

He doesn't have to tell you what he did, but you know.

“I love you, ___. I’ll never let someone hurt you again.”

You nod understanding, but you wish you didn't know.

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

uhh good old fashioned forced to kneel (maybe in front of a mafia boss after failing a job), maybe pistol whipping involved

hehehehehe

--

It was useless to struggle. You knew it was useless to struggle. You struggled many times in the past and had never been able to make the man budge once, so why you thought this time would be any different was wasted effort on your part. Still, you couldn't help the instinctual need to fight against the thick arm coiled around your waist that dragged you deeper into the underground vault.

I've gotten you approved for a transfer to one of our sister locations, your former manager said. It's in a higher end district so there's tighter safety measures in place, she said. You won't need to let that fear hold you back again, she said.

In her defense, she couldn't have possibly been able to be able to predict just two months later this bank would also be targeted. By the same group of men, no less. Well, you assumed they were the same, based off the similar physiques and coordinated masks. Skullface and his vintage Halloween counterparts were absent this time, instead being replaced with plastic faces of dog breeds. You were currently experiencing the joy yet again of being manhandled by Rottweiler and you had no doubt his bite would be worse than his bark.

As soon as you were escorted into the vault meant to store customers' safety deposit boxes, the arm hauling you along dropped to let you stumble. Thankfully, only your wrists were bound in zipties, leaving your wobbly legs to hightail it back towards the entrance before the collar of your shirt was seized. With a grunt, you were thrown against one of the metal tables, taking the brunt of the impact with your hip. You were caged in between thick limbs on either side, allowing the robber to crowd your space and practically swallow you whole with his massive build.

This close, you could smell the gunpowder and ash that clung to his jacket. Somewhere deep within the caverns of the mask's eyeholes, you might have been able to catch a wisp of pale lashes. But you weren't too concerned with that right now, not when you knew good and well that you had earned the ire of a dangerous man.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed, having to lean down to accommodate for the difference in height. You could only curve your back so far against the blunt edge of the table to make distance.

Initially, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Not that you didn't want to, of course; a scathing fuck you burning on the tip of your tongue. You were smart enough to know that a tiger would only tolerate being poked so many times with a stick. The fact that you tried to sabotage the dye packs when his back was turned was more akin to jabbing a stick straight into its eye. It was a miracle you weren't shot dead then and there.

Your lack of response was grinding further on his nerves, made evident when his gloved hand grabbed you by the jaw. His fingers dug into the hollows of your cheeks, sure to leave little purple bruises around the outline of your teeth. The last time he held your face like this was to forcefully pucker your lips, now free of their gag, to share a mock kiss between you and the plastic mouth of his skull mask before your were shoved out of a moving getaway vehicle. A quick peck probably wasn't on his mind right now, though.

"No, really," he insisted with the same, clipped edge in his tone, "I want to know what the fuck was going on inside that empty little head of your's to think that was a good idea."

Even with your face being squeezed, you managed to talk around his fingers, hoping that your matching glare would make up for any slurred speech. "Would'a made y' eas'er t'catch."

Oh, if masks could speak, there was no doubt the Rottweiler sharing his face would be latching its teeth around your throat with a snarl. In fact, you almost thought that was what the criminal was rearing to do when he briefly freed you from your prison to straighten his stance. No sooner had those arms released you was one swinging down from your peripheral, too fast for you to consider dodging. The butt of his gun cracked against your cheekbone, your teeth cutting against your already bruising flesh and threatening to loosen from the gums completely.

The pain took a few seconds to register after the initial hit. For a moment, you worried that you had been shot rather than pistol whipped with how your vision flashed white and your were deafened by the ringing in your ears. A moment later and a fiery ache bloomed across the entire left side of your face. Pain throbbed with each heartbeat that echoed in your head, tingling from the roots of your teeth and the expanse of your lower jaw, only tapering out somewhat under your eye.

Blood welled on your tongue, thick and bitter, from a cut or something broken you couldn't be certain of yet. Not only had you been rendered speechless by the agony coursing red hot under your skin, but the knock to the head was more than enough to make your knees buckle in a dizzying daze. You tipped forward, almost about to faceplant right into Rottweiler's bulletproof vest, but instead he let you stumble hard onto your knees in front of him. Well, at least being on the partially on the floor meant you didn't have to mind where the glob of saliva and blood landed when you spat it out.

You couldn't help but groan, not sure if your swollen tongue would be able to make anything else coherent enough. What was there to say, anyways? More taunts, a string of expletives, apologies meant to plead for forgiveness? There was nothing you could think of with how your thoughts were too rattled in your brain. Nothing worth the pain of opening and closing your mouth with cracked teeth, that is.

Leather fingers buried themselves deep in your hair, grasping at the roots to ensure a tight hold when they yanked your head up and back. You gasped, a sudden wave of nausea hitting you just as hard as the glock had. Stars had to be rapidly blinked away before your vision could focus on the Rottweiler staring down at you. If he wanted to, he would be able to snap your neck with just a flick of his wrist. Hell, he could have always done that whenever he wanted to, just as he could have shot you or stabbed you or strangled you at any point of your hostageship. Both current and previous.

But he didn't, even when you knew you deserved it. Even when you knew other innocent bystanders had suffered for lesser, if any, infringements during a heist.

Again, the gun made its appearance out of the corner of your eye, taunting your with its proximity. Rather than bash the other side of your face to even out the damage, the cool metal of the barrel pressed sharply to the cheek that was just assaulted. The molar under it shifted, causing your eyes to water. You really hoped the dental insurance your employer offered covered this kind of work.

"If you didn't look so good on your knees, I'd pull the trigger," the robber sneered. If your face wasn't already burning with pain, it would be running twice as hot with shame. "Now don't make me find a better use for that mouth, love."

Tomorrow sounded like a good day to call out sick.

[ramcharantitties]

Rasiya

part 2

Part 1

S/n - :D hey guys. I was on a trip to Udaipur with my college friends so I couldn't find time to complete this. I hope you like this!!

Ram pushed your shoulder down in a haste, indicating you to kneel as he unbuckled his pants. All the time, the fingers he used on you were untouched. When you finally paid attention to the bulge, you realised maybe you should have used only half the bottle. It strained out completely, veins popping on its side. It hung low, heavy, and you have already started feeling pain in your jaw.

Ram used the same glistening fingers to pump himself a few times, rubbing your wetness and whatever potion left on his length. You could hear the grunts, waiting for his next order. "You should have a taste of your doings too" he moved forward and grabbed the back of your head by your hair, pulling your face up. You took it as a motion to open your mouth and stuck your tongue out. Ram tapped his tip a few times on your tongue, the heavy slapping emitting sinful noise in the silent room. He grabbed your jaw, sliding his half length in your mouth.

Ram sighed, the warmth giving just a bit of relief, but still not enough. Slowly he started moving your jaw, increasing pace. Your tongue lapped all that was there on his length, hollowing your cheeks. A gutteral moan left him, as he leaned on the bed frame in front of him. You swirled your tongue around his tip, which made him throw his head back, eyes scrunched. It was too soon for your jaw to ache, but you couldn't help it. He was big. You wondered if it will fit inside you. Continuing your job, your hand reached out to the base and his balls, holding them with both your hands. You were ready to do anything to make him feel better. Ram's hand moved to the back of your head, pushing himself further in you. A string of your name left his lips, when you realised he was already close- that was sooner than normal. Is it because how pent up he was? Sloppily, you gagged on his cock, when he finally shot ropes of liquid. By his preference, you kept your mouth still, swallowing it all.

You wiped your lips, glossy doe eyes looking up at him. Ram cursed at how everything you did only made him lose bounds and fuck you. Ram breathed a few times, only to harshly pull you up, the effective potion still running in his blood stream. An unexpected voice left you at his aggressiveness, and he pushed you on the bed again. Like a sweet, juicy mango with the richest, intoxicating fruity smell, he couldn't help but pounce and latch his mouth on your neck. It sting, again. Your hands found themselves flat against his chest, your knees shut. His teeth gnawed at your skin, biting and licking. Ram's teeth moved down on you, his hands digging in your thighs. He tried to pry them open, only for him to feel your hands push on his chest. Feeling the hurt more than pleasure, you might have pushed him away on your own. There was absolute betrayal in his eyes, and yours had fear.

Ram's hand found your jaw, his fingers pressing and leaving marks on your cheeks. "You're gonna push me away?" You didn't recognise his voice. It was heavier and rougher. Breathing heavily, you nodded, denying nervously. Ram's eyes were blown out, his face held an unreadable expression. He pushed you back on the bed, leaving the room in a second. Was that it? Or have you made him so mad that he didn't want to be there? You stood up from the bed, standing by the bed frame. Should you apologise or wai- Ram barged in, holding a stick and some handkerchiefs.

A stick. Confusion and terror dawned on your body language- what was the stick for? You saw Ram tightly knot the ends of the stick with two handkerchiefs, leaving long ends of the handkerchiefs sticking out. Pulling on them, he was content that the cloth won't slide out. Without even looking at you, he picked you up and threw you on the bed, again. Before you could regain your balance, Ram was grabbing your feet and tying the loose ends of the cloth with them. What was he planning? By the time he was done, you were sprawled in front of him, legs wide, unable to move them because there was a stick tied between them. You gaped at the realisation. He then tied your hands together, on your back.

Ram stood in front of you as you laid on the bed, unable to move. He held the stick in his hands on the bed, raising it, along with your feet. Ripped muscles and buff chest, you have started to feel the flow of potion too. You couldn't even fathom what was happening when he flipped the stick 180 degree, and you landed on the bed on your stomach. A groan left your lips, your open hair stuck to your face. You couldn't even move your hands to fix them. The flip did give a bit of shock, but it might as well have made you wet. You weren't expecting such inventions from Ram right now.

He pulled your hips close to him, raising you on your shoulders and knees, moving the skirt out of the way. In a hurry he got on the bed behind you, pumping himself a few times. Till now you haven't really spoken anything- you didn't get to. You felt Ram's fingers grazing the inner lining of your underwear, occasionally touching your lips. You could only whimper when you felt his hand touch you aimlessly, and then a snapping sound resonated in the room. Feeling the cold and bareness, you were sure Ram had just snapped away your underwear in pieces.

You felt his tip on your lips and clit a few times, up and down motion, slightly scared about the size. Placing a hand on your lower back, Ram penetrated you with a moan. He was big, bigger than usual, if possible. You felt your walls trying taking him in. You knew Ram was animalistic right now and would not understand your needs, so you were sure he wasn't going to let you adjust. "ra- RAM! Please, wait" Ram's movements halted for a second. You believed that he understood, until he grabbed you by your throat and pulled your back against his chest.

"Why? Didn't my wife want me to be rougher?" You gaped at his question, when he completely pulled himself out and slammed in. You cried and fell in bed forward. His thrusting was relentless. It was alright when he was holding your hips, but you couldn't take it any longer when Ram grabbed the knot on your wrists on your back from one hand and the bed frame from another. He gave all in fucking you, if you like it not. It hurt first, but it started feeling better. Ram's girth stretched you out, tip pushing the cervix. The groans leaving his throat of your name added as a lubricant. You could feel his veins on your walls. There was electricity in your fingers, your tongue lolling out. From screaming his name you went to being a blabbering mess in quick seconds.

Your orgasm approached soon, making you whine and heave. Between the noises of moans and slapping, your voice almost gave out. "I-im gonna cum" You were sure he heard it, as he rubbed the skin of your back in response. The orgasm was as rough as the sex. You arched your back, pushing your ass in his groin. Your toes curled, eyes screwed shut. Ram continued his pace even then. You couldn't even grip the sheets, sure that you'll leave marks on your palm. You wondered how much stamina did the potion give him that he can't find relief till now. The bedsheet has turned darker by your drool and tears. Despite knowing you've already come once, Ram didn't slow down with the same force and speed that he continued ramming in you. You couldn't hold on to your position any longer, your knees and shoulders buckling out. You almost fell sideways on the bed, when Ram caught you and pulled himself out.

The emptiness felt weird at this, your hole contracting, missing him. He finally turned you over to face you- your hair stuck to your face, your eyes red and nose pink. A deep blush on your cheeks and lips plump. Your breast heaved up and down, cleavage visible. A trail of love bites made its way down. Your legs were apart, waiting for him. Ram swore he was hard again. Your tied hands were brought to the front above your head, and the privilege of having your blouse was taken away too. Ram kneaded the perfect mounds, brown nipples tweaking when he pinched them. You gasped, and moaned when he massaged your breast. Ram's hand made his way from the valley of your cleavage, up to your throat. Your big eyes stared at him when he grabbed the sides with his fingers. Ram entered you again and he knew it felt heavenly when he saw your eyes roll back. Keeping another hand on your abdomen, Ram fastened his speed.

The skin slapping was quick to fill the room. Your moans were high pitched mixed with Ram's grunts. There was nothing to help when you looked like that, your breast moving with every thrust. Soon, Ram took his hands off your body and placed them next to your head, looking at your blissed out face. You opened your eyes, both of you panting. His eyes were calmer, sweeter. Your hands made their way around his neck when you felt Ram grab your waist, and deeply push himself in you. Your head threw back. Ram's short and deep thrust along with you playing with his hair pushed both of you to the edge. He finally locked his lips with you, finally coming in you. You came again, your sweaty bodies slipping on each other.

Ram laid there on top of you, as you both were tired, you more than him. Ram moved on from you, quickly untying your feet and kissing your sore ankles. He then untied your hands and kissed them too, rubbing them. He then cleaned you up, followed by himself, and wore his clothes back. He then took off your sweaty clothes- which were freshly worn after a bath- and covered you in a blanket as you were sleeping. Seeing you asleep, he couldn't help but doze off too with you. Ram looked at the time- it was five when he came back home and it was half past eight now. He fell on the bed beside you, taking off his shirt again, cradling your figure.

--------------------------------

Tagging: @ramayantika @chaanv @houseofbreadpakoda @jkdaddy01

[artdivadej]

Survivor’s Remorse (V)

Part 5

NSFW | 18+ | PTSD| Torture

Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

I'd been sent to join the Victors Squad in the Capitol by Coin, not that the witch gave me much choice. It was obvious that she liked Peeta and despised me but wasn't sure he'd back her if it came to a vote of who to run a new Panem. I was the clear solution to that. Send the hijacked psycho to take him out because she can't control herself while so close to her torture chambers. The woman thought I was stupid but I didn't care. Anything to get some sun on my skin. Anything to breathe fresh air and get out of that fishbowl of a room I'd been locked in. 

When I'd been shoved out the back of the Humvee, I'd rolled onto the ground none too gently, but I was used to this type of treatment. I propel myself upwards using my bound hands beneath me, legs sliding out behind me in my usual protective crouch, right leg extended and left bent to my chest, hissing at the asshole who pushed me.

"You've gotta take her mouth guard off too Keil" Ryan sighs looking at him with annoyance

"I'm not going by that bitch's mouth. Let her new perfect Victors Squad take care of it" Keil snorts attempting to climb back in only for Ryan to block his path

"She's got a name. And she saved our asses. Twice. Show her some respect"

Keil looks like he'd love nothing more than to kick me again but he does eventually come closer and kneels in front of me, his curled lip conveying his distaste for me. I wish Ryan had been around for the first leg of this journey. Maybe Keil wouldn't have kicked me around so much if he had.

"If you bite me" he warns

"I doubt you'd taste any good" I snort, lisping around the mouth guard

"Pfft. Open your mouth"

I comply, having to fight the urge to gag when he roughly shoves the metal bar between my jaws, smirking at my look of disdain. I fight the urge to flinch, not wanting to be slammed onto my back again, as his hand comes towards my face. When he clicks them off, Keil holds them between his index finger and thumb with a grimace. I spit the bar out and flex my jaw, rolling my tongue over my teeth happily. I don't care how gross my saliva is to him I'm just happy to have control of my mouth again. He turns me around aggressively and shoves it into my bag before yanking me to my feet by my backpack strap. He and Ryan are behind me as we walk towards a large awning about a thousand feet ahead.

Then I see them and the blood in my veins freeze just like they do.

Katniss raises her bow, Gale his crossbow and the rest, their guns. Only Finnick remains leaning against one of the posts, appearing at ease while watching me with amusement. It's Peeta's eyes I find next and it makes my blood run cold. The realization slaps me in the face when I see there's not a weapon in his hands either and it's clear he's struggling not to come over to us. Coin really sent me here to die huh? No reason not to give the woman what she wanted I suppose. Who even was I really? No one of real importance now that my purpose had been served.

I hold up my cuffed hands as a sign of peace. Boggs comes over demanding to know what's happening. Keil shoves me forward with the butt of his gun so that I stumble toward them and I have to resist the urge to snap my jaws at him. This is humiliating enough. I don't need his fucking help in making it worse.

"Your problem now. Coins orders" he sighs happy to be rid of me

Should've let that fuckin pod kill him 2 days ago is what I should have done. Boggs assigns me a tent, telling me to set it up while he goes to confirm the order. Unlike Keil, his tone is soft like he's actually speaking to a person. Thankfully Keil and Ryan take their leave but I feel everyone's eyes on me, their weapons lowered but still in hand. Clearly, I'm not too well liked anywhere.

I move over to the outskirts of their tent circle and start trying to build mine off to the side of it. I'm aware no one will want to sleep near me. It's not personal. I'm just a fuckin wild nutcase and they're soldiers meant to be ready for anything. As the rope falls between my shackled nails again, I huff in frustration, knowing this was going to take most of the day.

I'm still sitting off the to the side fumbling with my tent around my cuffs clumsily when I hear a crunch behind me. My eyes sweep up fast as I slide my leg around in a circle out behind me so I'm back in my defensive crouch. They land on a smiling Finnick, his blue-green eyes twinkling happily, unlike everyone else's that only watched me with distrust and fear. I quickly relax and smile back at him, genuinely pleased to see him. Finnick was used to psychotic people, there was no judgement in his eyes as he knelt beside me, wordlessly helping me with my knots.

"Thanks Finn" I sigh once it's all set up not noticing his smile at my slip of the familiar nickname

"My pleasure. How you settling in?"

"Aside from everyone here wanting to slit my throat the moment I close my eyes? Peachy" I roll my eyes

"That's not true"

"Of course it is. Coin clearly has an agenda sending me here. I don't expect to make it back to 13" I shrug honestly "I'm fully aware this is the last stop on my Victors Tour"

I feel the traitorous tears burn the backs of my eyes; my throat raw as I shake my head to clear it. I feel resentment and self-loathing well in my chest. It pisses me off. I bite down on the core of my restraints giving a tentative suck. Finnick watches me curiously for a moment, allowing me to release it undisturbed. My body slumps a little against his, head lolling heavily on his shoulder. I can't help it. The sedative is quick acting, not as potent as it used to be, thankfully. I don't care that my sudden chomp has startled everyone or that I can feel them watching me warily because I'm so close to Finnick's neck. Finnick appears to be truly unbothered by my proximity or my antics.

"Like it's my fault I'm mind fucked" I hiss under my breath

"I have no plans of you dying as long as there's breath in my body"

"Thanks Finn but I'd rather you stick around for lil red. Wasn't exactly a cake walk bringing her to you"

"I hear you did a lot more than just protect her"

"Doesn't matter." I shrug

At least I made sure that someone walked away from this knowing and understanding what love is. Who they were. Knowing that when they need to break, they actually have the pieces to put themselves back together again. That was enough.

"It does to me" he shakes his head, leaning his cheek against the top of my hair

"Just be good to her. I tried too damn hard to bring her back to you in one piece for you not to"

"It's a promise"

I'm sleepy but I can't relax with all these eyes on me. I need a distraction.

Finnick taps at my cuffs curiously, so I lift them high for him to see. Beetee has made this set another pretty shade of blue to match the collar on my neck and the mouthguard now in my tent. My nails are covered because it'd been two weeks since I'd been around Prim to have them cut so they were sharp again.

"Doesn't it hurt you to bite these?"

"No. Beetee has put a sedative in them for me, right here" I drop my wrists so the cuff's center sits in his palm

It's fatter at the center with two matching holes on either side a soft orange, they glowed in the center.

"For when I feel myself losing control. After...I lost it at breakfast with you guys. He made me a new mouth guard too"

"I wouldn't call you attempting to air dirty laundry, losing it" Finnick chuckles handing me a sugar cube "It'll help wake you up a little"

One day I'd find out where he kept those stored.

"You weren't there...after. Totally lost my shit after I remembered some stuff about the Training Center. Johanna had to knock me out"

   ***

Haymitch interrupts at this. He'd come in after the fact but had never been told just what had set me off. He never pried. Always let me tell him things on my own time and the way I wanted. Another thing I genuinely love about my adopted father.

"What happened at breakfast? You never did tell me"

Peeta is shaking his head against the top of mine but he doesn't stiffen the way he did then. We've talked about this. Haymitch and I haven't. I take a deep breath and start in on that one. Might as well get some of the trackerjacker enhanced mutt version of me's memories out now before they threatened to smother me at the Capitol. Because I was going. I'll be damned if I spend that amount of time away from Peeta and they both knew it.

"I was cruel to everyone that day" I admit honestly shaking my head with shame "Most especially Peeta. I wanted him to hurt the way I was...even though I didn't understand it at the time. Still shattered beyond repair"

    ***

I was fucking starving and sick of waiting for Prim to go get some food. They'd finally actually had to adjust my food to meet my carnivorous needs and I was ravenous. I'd been allowed to walk around my room unrestrained and even get some sketching done this morning to test my motor reflexes further. They took my pencil immediately afterwards though. Prim was unusually late today, must have been put back in the rotation this week.

Yeah, screw this I'm starved.

I threw my pillow at the glass and demanded my shock collar so I could get some god damn food. It was still early hours so I was usually permitted to eat there with Prim because there were so few people there, already out for whatever work detail they were on that day.

Within 10 minutes two familiar soldiers came in. They knew better than to have my watch be men. They learned that lesson quick when I would tuck myself into places they could never hope to fit or reach. I'm much too wily and quick for their bulky bodies. These particular women were used to me and I liked that they didn't look at me like everyone else that was forced to watch me did. There was no pity in their eyes and they were genuine in trying to understand me.

The blonde was Flira. She didn't talk much but was the reason I'd been able to get my collars crafted by Beetee. She listened to me when I'd been a screaming lunatic those first couple weeks. It was clear I still trusted some people irrevocably. Beetee was on that very short list. Apparently Flira was a pretty high-ranking officer so she spent a bit of time with him for weaponry. Why she enjoyed spending time babysitting me was beyond my realm of reasoning. She'd attempted to put in a favor but he claimed I'd saved his life. Quite the opposite in fact, but I appreciated the sentiment all the same.

Now, since the last problems were my hands and teeth, a small jolt of electricity or a shot of morphling could stop that in a second. Much better than getting knocked unconscious with a baton again. I was grateful for them. They were pretty and functional without making me feel like the wild fox they'd wickedly dubbed me at the Training Center. Much thanks Beetee. A girls gotta have something pretty even if she was a monster mutt now.

In the red head Juni's hand was my collar and mouth guard.

Ok I hated the mouth guard. The way they'd strap me down to put it in always gave me flashbacks to my torment. It made me feel like less of a person to them too. Just some caged wild animal. I already had to wear the collar, was the muzzle fuckin necessary for breakfast?

I didn't realize I'd said this all aloud until they exchanged a bored glance between them before passing it back to a nurse who'd been nervously waiting at the door for me to be restrained. I shoot Juni a grateful smile and hold my hands out for my special restraints. My nails had been modified to always grow in a stiletto shape but Prim kept them rounded and short so I didn't have to wear the nail guards much. Today Juni leaves them off as she clips my adjustable restraints into place at my wrists.

Today's looking up! Gotta keep up the docile thing so it can stay that way. Lifting my chin obediently, I allow Flira to brush the hair from my neck as she secures the collar in place.

This one is a beautiful shade of blue that makes my head heart thinking about why I like it so much. Beeta making my restraints really makes me happy. They're personal, he cares that anything made for you is for you. I wish I could see how he was doing. Maybe if I behave today, I can ask? Pfft yeah right. He was important. I really wasn't.

I do hope I get to catch a glimpse of Johanna. I haven't gotten to talk to her in a while. I need to see her alright with my own eyes. Hopefully they were treating her right. I didn't want her caged and hurting like me. She'd had too much of it for my liking as it was. She was a bird that needed to be free in the trees, like Rue. They just flew through leaves as if they had wings, weightless and filled with sweet air. To think of her trapped in a white room like this, a two-way mirror for people to gawk and laugh at your misery. No, I wanted sun on her skin. It clicks that I have my bargaining chip. I have something I want from Coin now. Now we can negotiate.

"Ok, ok, ok I'm all cuffed up can we go? I'm starving!" I moan shaking my wrists back and forth as I bounce on the balls of my socked feet excitedly

"You have got to wear pants today." Flira sighs pinching the bridge of her nose as Juni takes the sedative shots from the nurse and shoos her skittish presence away. They always irritate her and this pleases me.

I'm not too keen on clothing but since I rarely get to leave my cage, it's not really that much of a problem. I wrinkle my nose but snatch up a pair of 13's ugly pants I'd shredded into shorts.

"No. Coin will kill you"

I snort and pull them up my legs, admiring how they make my fattening ass look.

"Not if she wants her precious mutt to cooperate" I sing throwing her an impish grin over my shoulder.

They roll their eyes at me but resign to let me stay shoeless and hurry me to the cafeteria, probably hoping we can get this over with quickly before their caught being so nice to me. I don't know why they risk it but I like that they were willing to get in trouble just to give me back some simple freedoms sometimes. Luckily for them it's practically empty but I don't really peruse the area. Not important right now. The smell of meat smacks me in the face making my mouth water instantly. Flashing my bracelet when the cook comes out, I practically drool at the meal he drops in front of me a minute later. 1 full turkey leg, a chicken thigh, and some beef soup that I can see vegetables floating in. My nose wrinkles at this. There's a cup of fruit that also makes me visibly gag.

Maybe I'll be able to convince Juni or Flirn to eat them? Food is too precious in 12 to waste but in 13 its practically a war crime. I wish they'd just stop giving them to me for a while. I take my cup and then seek out an empty table just happy to have my fill of meat.

Then I hear a booming, hearty laugh that makes my heart pound and my muscles constrict as if I'd been ensnared by a vicious anaconda. I know that laugh. Then, I see them.

It's the mutt sitting to the left of Katniss with Gale at her right. Finnick Odair is beside Gale, Annie tucked into his side, smiling adorably at whatever he's whispering in her ear. My eyes lock onto the cozy trio that Is the mutt, Katniss and Gale. His arm brushes hers occasionally as they speak to one another and I feel a thick disgusting jealousy welling in my throat that burns me to the core.

I don't know why I care so much but it pisses me off.

The bench of their table closest to me is full of heads I recognize too. Yulin on the end is sitting beside Delly, both District 12 residents. It's with a giddiness starting in my belly that fills me up with pure joy when I find exactly who I wanted to see beside Delly,

"Jojo!" I call out excitedly

Her head whips up as she drops the spoon in her hand, her growing curls make me grin as they bounce around her whipping face. It's Peeta who looks up first, seeing Johanna respond to a name that was most definitely not hers. When his eyes lock on mine I feel fear, hatred, jealousy and....longing well in my chest as his face frantically searches mine. It's Katniss' hand on his shoulder, trying to see what's got his attention that drives my feet forward. When Johanna turns around, I'm grinning wickedly down at her.

"I see they let you out your cage for once" she beams back

"For a little while. I can't sit without your permission though" I explain tilting my head behind me where I know Flirn and Juni will most definitely be hovering.

"Are those shorts?" she cackles

"No one was supposed to be here" I shrug, privately enjoying the way everyone's eyes roam up my exposed thighs, littered with fading bruises and wounds from my imprisonment.

I like that I can feel all of their terrified and confused eyes on us while we pay them no mind. All these scars? I earned every single one of them to protect all of their precious people. So... Fuck them.

Everyone else was all the things in this moment that I'd been for over 6 months.

Irrelevant. Discardable.

"Sit. Sit" Johanna pats the seat excitably and I plop down happily.

Flirn and Juni relax and give me a nice berth of space. I've talked to them a bit about my imprisonment time with Johanna. They know she can subdue me, if necessary and that I would welcome her over anyone else knocking me senseless. Or Primrose. But she's not available today.

I sweep my eyes up the table where Annie sits, openly staring at me with those wide jade green eyes, that seemed much clearer today. Good. She's finding her way with Finnick as her sound minded compass.

"Hey lil red" I grin, pleased to see her still unharmed. "You're lookin good"

"I am. Thank you for that. How are you?", she nods softly with a smile

This startles everyone at the table as they look back and forth between us.

"Meh so so. Best place I've been strapped down in thus far though" I laugh

Johanna snickers beside me and I'm pleased to see she's reaching for my fruit cup. After she dumps it into hers, I bump my forehead to her temple in thanks. She knocks back and I smile to myself. Jo knows I can't stand the sight of vegetables right now and she needs the fattening up anyway.

When I look up and a little to my right it's to lock eyes with Peeta. I'd wanted him to feel like I didn't care he was in close enough range to wring my neck with those big old paws of his or that I was truly terrified of him. I didn't want him to know that seeing him cuddled up with this girl made me want to rip my heart out and throw it at his feet.

I'm angry and I shouldn't be. I don't like this boy. Right? I don't want him. Right?

RIGHT?!

I look back at my food and pull another large hunk of meat of my turkey leg up with my nails, (I hate silverware) and can feel everyone's eyes on me, but it only makes me angrier. They want a show I'll fucking give them one.

"That's a lot of meat" Delly inserts quirking her brow at me inquisitively.

"Gotta catch up. They didn't exactly give us much to snack on when they were shocking our wet bodies with cattle prods" I explain in a bored tone as Johanna snorts next to me.

Annie flinches at the end of the table but I don't pay it any mind. She was fine. Safe and unharmed. I took great lengths and many an unwelcome touch to see to that. You're fuckin welcome Odair.

"But why meat?"

"All they gave me were vegetables the entire time I was there. The only protein was an egg a week. I need more protein than most" I explain to her genuine curiosity, seeing no harm in being nice to this doe eyed girl who honestly meant me none.

"Why?" Gales asks curiously, his stormy dark grey eyes looking me over like a science experiment

For fucks sake I'm wearing a collar. Does it need more explanation? I quirk a brow at him and pull my top lip back from my left canine since it was closest to his range of vision, fattening it a bit before tapping it twice. I hear everyone's gasps of surprise seeing I can change their size at will but I don't speak on it further. It's the only explanation I care to offer at the moment. I can feel them burning with questions but they dare not ask.

I dip my meat in the soup, making a spectacle of it as they all continue to watch me. A strange sideshow to their normally quaint mornings being all coupled up and fucking happy. Picture perfect fuckin families. Something that mind fucked little ole me wasn't supposed to live to see.

"So" I start, wanting to wound them the way they were me

My eyes sweep up to hold the mutt in my gaze, he's spell bound as I suck the soaked meat from my fingers and between my lips with a loud pop. I lick and suck the juices from my lips torturously slow and see that I have the rapt attention of every male at the table. Hmmm. Interesting. Even as a wild animal I was still desirable to them. Funny.

I rip off another large piece of meat and repeat this process. I hadn't had this much meat in so long. I was doing it just as much for them as I was for me.

"I see that you three figured out the poly dynamic to your re-lation-ship" I grin wickedly gesturing the meat between Gale, Katniss and Peeta before slurping it between my lips again, making sure to draw out the 'ship' when I pop my lips playfully.

As Katniss goes red in the face, sputtering for a response I lock my eyes with Peeta again, who looks as if I'd slapped him and he was trying to decide whether to hit me back. My fingers twitch as I try to control myself. I want to lunge for him before he can me but I decide to push further. Johanna snorts next to me trying to hide her amusement at my unhinged behavior. I bring what's remaining of the turkey leg up to my mouth to show them something I'd learned I could do with this new set of teeth and jaws the Capitol forced on me after my first games.

"So, Katniss" I hiss her name like a vicious snake. "Which ones better in the sack?"

Delly squeaks something about privacy and misunderstandings but I'm not looking at her. I'm looking right at Peeta, who's eyes have hardened. He genuinely looks wounded. Good. I hope she says Gale.

"Cuz if memory serves me right Mellark, you're quite a fun ride. And taste just. Like. Honey" I purr

Before he can retort I stick the entire leg in my mouth, clamp my teeth down and suck hard, my cheeks dipping so you can see my tongue hitting them as I swirl it around the leg. I pull it out painfully slowly and everyone's eyes widen. I've stripped it of every shred of meat on it, the tip of the bone leaving my full lips with a loud pop as I look him dead in his eyes and swallow. No need to chew if I don't want to honestly. I pop my lips with satisfaction and suck on the tip of the bone. Katniss looks like she'd love nothing more than to drive her fork through my face and I use this as satisfying fuel for my rage.

Serves you right. I volunteered for you and kept your precious mutt safe because he's so fuckin in love with you.

"I bet it's Gale and he's aggressive" Johanna whispers lowly in my ear so no one but me can hear

"How about it pretty boy? Is it you? I bet you're pretty demanding though" I tilt my head as I suck on the tip of my bone thoughtfully, rolling my tongue over the cartilage remaining at the tips. Gale's eyes are still on my lips and I taunt him further, beginning to suck it thoughtfully. "Hmmm might just need to test it out myself. Not like you were ever shy about handing out those kisses of yours back in 12 though, were ya?"

Gale flushes as many of the eyes at the table now sweep up to him.

"My bad about kickin you in the sack last time you tried though. I won't do that if you try to kiss me again" I purr dropping my bone and tipping my soup up to my lips, taking a sip. I drop it immediately when I smell carrots at my nose my entire taunting game discarded until I get them away from me.

I rapidly scoop them out into the empty fruit cup I had and hurriedly drop them on Johanna's plate. She dumps them in her soup happily, still watching our exchange.

I'm just getting fucking started.

"I mean. You obviously don't mind sharing?" I flick my eyes to Katniss and back again to Gale

"What makes you think you and Peeta have?" she sneers trying and succeeding to wound me, though I'll never let her know that.

I smirk, my canines on full display and this makes her pull herself back an inch or so protectively. I take a bite out of my chicken thigh and lick my fingers as if her question bores me. Just as I move to say what I want, Prim sits beside Peeta, who now has to slide directly in front of me.

I can't avoid his deep honey gaze any longer and I feel my veins thrum in warning. I don't want to be malicious with Primrose here. But now I feel I've gone to a point where I need to see this through. I genuinely need these answers for some psychotic reason. My foot rests between both of Peeta's under the table and a horrid idea comes to mind.

Let's see if I'm provoked.

With a tap to my temple, I simper at Peeta, biting my lip while gazing at him longingly beneath the lashes of my hooded eyes, feigning a desire that I genuinely felt licking the back of my consciousness.

"Hijacked or not, I've got quite a few nights on the train up here. And hmmmm...If memory serves, Mellark's fuckin hung" I sigh dreamily

He's about to get up, something in his expression tickles a memory of his mannerisms. I see it in the set of his jaw and the sadness in the tightening of his eyes. I stop him cold with my next action. My socked foot is now on his groin. I'd noticed he'd anxiously scooted to the edge of his seat while he'd watched me eat, his hands now palming the table with veins popping across the surface. His body is frozen solid. Good.

"And very, very vocal. Though not very nice in what he's saying" I sigh rubbing my foot tenderly against him back and forth, feeling a sense of triumph when he grows beneath my ministrations. This sickens me that I revel in his heat being directed at me this way. "Likes to let you take control so he can watch you too"

Desire sparks within me at his expressions. This mutt who wants me dead. The hell is wrong with me?

Katniss hisses and stomps away from the table, fed up with my shit.

"Then again" I sigh with fervor sweeping my eyes down to Finnick, who is watching me with something akin to utter disbelief but...humor rests on his lips "I do believe you owe me Annie"

Her head snaps to me and now Finnick is really lost.

"I bet you're the best at this table Odair. And seeing as how your pretty little wife does owe me my pound of flesh..." I moan the end of my sentence, just to goad them too.

I'm lashing out at everyone now.

I find Peeta's tip and squeeze, wrapping my toes around it, feeling his hips shift as he tries to control his reaction. I like this. Why? His plump lips part as he pants lowly, his hands are under the table on his thighs now. He could move my foot easily if he wanted but he doesn't recoil from my touch or move to toss my foot away.

This confuses me. I feel a crack in my mind but I don't have time to focus on that.

"What do you mean?" Finnick asks

"Oh, you didn't know?" Johanna pipes in always happy to traumatize people with Our 'Torture Tales' as we liked to call them. "She convinced them in less than a day that Annie would be of no use to them. Everything they wanted to do and try on Annie, she got them to take it out on her instead. The head Peacekeeper there had a thing for redheads but, she mind-fucked him into touching her instead"

Peeta flinches under my ministrations, I'd increased the pressure while he was staring at my face intently. But I don't want to see the disgust I know will be on his. I know I'm sullied beyond reproach, ok? Now both of my feet are on him but his trembling hands have moved to the tabletop again. Why didn't he just move my feet? And why was I happy he couldn't seem to?

"Is that true?" Prim asks me with sad blue eyes

"Mhhhmmm. So, I think I dare, Mr.Odair. It would seem I've got a thing for hot blondes hopelessly in love with someone else" I sing locking eyes with him, happy that these memories don't come back as easily as I spit them out. "We're used to it right? The Capitol just using our bodies how they want to? At least I'd be fun. You wouldn't believe the things I learned my body could do in there"

Peeta has had enough. So have the Odairs. And Johanna. Her hand is like a vice grip on my thigh, warning me to calm down. I didn't want to hurt Annie but I felt rabid and couldn't bring myself to care. I'd taken more than enough lashings for her; she could take one emotional for me.

Peeta's still hard beneath me but his hands slam on the table and I flinch backwards with my eyes on them. Now I'm the one frozen in place. They might as well be sledgehammers in my rattled mind. My own begin to tremble as I grab Johanna's hand in fear beneath the table. Ok maybe too far? He stands and his wounded eyes are hard as they hold me trapped in fear and something else.

"I don't know what you think happened on the train but that wasn't it", he hisses before retreating from the table.

He's a liar. He's definitely fucking hung. There's no way they'd just know that. Right? Or would I just know that?

No. The games. He had to have washed. Right?

Ugh. My head is spinning.

It's quiet for a little while after the Odair's, Gale and Peeta leave. I realize Prim has been watching me with the eyes of a doctor who wants to ask me things but not in front of people who don't have my confidence. Delly takes the hint and removes herself quickly. For some reason unknown to me, she touches my shoulder and gives a soft squeeze before leaving, knowing that touching me was not permitted. It was reassuring she cared enough to risk it.

Yulin finishes his food than comes to sit beside me for a minute. We were actually pretty close before I went into the games so I was happy to see he made it out. Friendship wasn't something that came easily to me. When his blue eyes hold mine, I realize he has something he wants to say without upsetting me.

"What?" I sigh ready for a lecture

"Look...I'm still friends with Peeta too. I know you don't like him right now but, don't just assume things. He's never...been with anyone before. I don't know what they did to your memories but he's never had sex" he sighs standing to go and fleeing the room quickly.

This only makes me angrier and I'm struggling to hold onto my reason.

I didn't need my heart to leap the way it did at the admission and breaking of Peeta's trust to give it to me. My head hurts.

"Why did you do that?" Prim asks amicably

"I-I don't know. I was so pissed off" I hiss gnawing at my chicken, no longer able to taste it but needing something to do before I splintered into a million pieces.

"About?"

"I can't explain it"

And I don't want to.

"Try" Johanna urges me threading her fingers through mine and squeezing twice, just like we did when we were imprisoned together. My little boost of dopamine in a world full of trackerjacker venom.

"I went through all this for him to have the life he wanted but I hated seeing it. But I hate him. Right? It's all so splintered" I sigh rubbing my temples now "I'm terrified of him. I just have this irrational fear but I wanted to touch him too. Fuck. I'm super fucked in the head. I want him dead. He wants me dead. Right? But I want his hands on me too? How could the train have been unreal? It's so clear. Bright. So bright"

"What about the train?" Prim tries knowing that trying convince me he didn't want me dead was a moot point.

"He and I... we would" I sigh, not wanting to express this to a 13-year-old, but she was the only doctor I trusted right now.

"You have memories of intimacy?"

"Sometimes" I huff as my body begins to shudder

"Only one time isn't super shiny like that but...we didn't..."

"This sounds juicy, tell me" Johanna hums leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands as she grins mischievously at me.

We'd always make one another laugh in some morbid fashion when we were imprisoned together and one of us was on the brink. I could have never endured all that I did without her.

"I didn't sleep well without him after the games...so, I never did" I sigh pulling my hands from my temples and holding Prim's clear blue eyes, drowning in their clarity

"And?"

"One night, I remember waking up to his lips on my cheek. I'd been crying out for him. I... I think I did that a lot. He curled up with me. Held me. He smelled different than the Peeta in the bright version.... like honey. Cinnamon"

"Like the bakery"

"Yes. Bread. Fresh bread"

This scares me. I'm getting too many at one time. Prim urges me on encouragingly.

"I wanted him to do more than hold me but I know it's not right to"

"Did he?" Johanna whispers conspiratorially as her pretty green eyes widened dramatically

"He's gotten...bigger than he was in the videos I remember. But he was always bigger than me. I wanted him to kiss me. I don't know why. He didn't love me. The cameras were gone. What did I want?" I grumble as my eyes dart back and forth across the table

"Oh my god bitch, did he kiss you or not?" Johanna whines

"Yes" I sigh as I feel my body clenching in a way that feels very familiar

"Keep going" Johanna purrs wiggling her shoulders

"He was on top of me. His tank tops always got swallowed by his muscles and his hands were" I stare down at mine "He always held my hands. He did it than too. His kiss was so passionate and he was everywhere" I whisper rubbing my temples again

I don't like that I can feel the heat of his body encompassing me or the tenderness in his kiss. This bothers me. Fuckin mutt. 

So desperate to have a piece of him, that I just let him take out his frustrations for Katniss with me. Telling me how pretty she was as he thrust into me so roughly. That was the truth. That's what happened. Right?

"He's got some big ass hands" Johanna observes

"But gentle in this one. I remember his hands on my ribs, my hips, his lips tasted like hot chocolate. He always...had some before bed on the train. I think?"

"That's really good, keep going" Prim presses

I don't want to. I can feel the golden haze trying to overtake this memory too. I tell her so.

"Why?"

"I hear things he's saying but it doesn't really sound like him. Like a track over the real words that don't quite match up to his lips."

"Listen to both. Figure out which one makes sense" Prim encourages

"He’s telling me that it's easy to forget Katniss with me because I had grey eyes and dark hair like her. These kisses are rougher though. He's tugging and pushing at me. He's rough and won't really look me in the eyes. They're off somehow but it's his voice. His body. It doesn't feel good for me but he likes it so I shut up like he says. His hands are on my wrists. Not in mine"

"What's the darker one saying?"

"He's calling me pretty. Sweet names. Whispering in my ear. He's holding my hands this time" I blush wanting to drop the topic now

It didn't make sense.

"Did you fuck in this one too? I like this one better" Johanna whispers practically in my lap now

"No. I... I touched him. He touched me, a little. That was it"

"Oh no, how much touching? Don't hold out on me now. I hate to read and this is a juicy story" Johanna whines as she shakes me

Maybe I'd make better progress with Johanna around when it came to my real memories? She made them easier to remember and fun even through the confusion and pain.

"Jojo maybe later" I hiss ignoring the creeping headache

Prim was still only 13 and it bothers me that she knows this much already.

"I don't mind" Prim laughs

"I do"

"Just keep going"

"I was determined not to, no matter how badly I wanted to. So, I asked to touch him instead"

His lips are on mine and the sounds that rumble in his wide barrel chest make me wet. He's so vocal as he showers me with praise between suckling at my tongue and lips. It makes my muscles clench in ways that set me ignites fire in my veins. I don't know how but he knows exactly how to suck on my tongue to make me weak. It's as if he has a roadmap to every sensitive part of me. He whimpers my name against my lips when my nails rake down his chest with desire. His lips leave mine as he throws his head back with a groan, hurriedly pulling the shirt over his head.

"Peeta" I whisper

His eyes meet mine, just holding them for a moment before he dips his head and gives me a tender kiss. His hands are on my ribs as he caresses my sides.

"Can I touch you Peeta?" I whisper into the night, my back bowing when his fingertips graze the underside of my breasts.

His eyes widen but he nods, his curls falling into his eyes as he tried to steady his breath. I want to see him come undone so I pull him down to me with my left arm around his neck and my right hand sliding through his golden happy trail. When his skin touches mine, I lay on my side, pulling him down so that he lay on his facing me. I could see him struggling not to flex his hips up into my descending fingers because his eyes never leave mine. He whispers how pretty I am as he pants against my lips, his voice unsteady and a low hum. I blush and kiss him to shut him up before I lose my nerve. As my fingers pass through the patch of curls, I wonder if they match the dirty blonde on his head. This becomes a fleeting thought when his length twitches against the side of my palm. I grab him gently at first, curious of his reactions to every touch and caress. He's pulsing in my hand as I explore his shaft in my hands. Peeta has no problem telling me exactly how he feels and I find that I really like that.

"Shit!" I hiss slamming my forehead down on the table before I feel Johanna's restraining arms wrapped around my shoulders to keep me upright

No. Mutt. Mutt. Enemy. He's going to destroy everything. But of course, me first. This isn't real. He'd never look at me that way. Never touch me so tenderly. He'd told me so.

He hated me for this fake relationship but I felt good wrapped around him so it was alright sometimes. His hands go to my throat when I ask him to slow down. He's hurting me. I go quiet but he's not finished yet. That was the real Peeta. Right?

RIGHT!?

My hand locks around Johanna's thigh in a grip that I know will leave a bruise. I'll apologize later. She doesn't flinch or move away; in fact, she moves closer so I can whisper in her ear.

"Se...date" I grit between pants

"Prim" she warns lowly trying not to alert my guards who've noticed the loud bang

Prim's hand is already on the remote. I feel the prick in my neck and I slump against Johanna's side with exhaustion. My doses are higher when I'm supposed to be around others. I want to sleep. But I can't. Not with these memories waging war in my brain.

"What the fuck? It was getting good!" Johanna hisses with mock irritation

I can't help the laugh that I choke out.

"Too good. I started to remember...the Training Center when I pull that one back up"

"Which part?" she snorts

"Mean Peeta" I whimper shrinking into her side feeling like a stupid child "Cliff too"

"Hey..." she calls lowly in a soft tone I've realized she only uses for me

I tilt my head up to hers with as much strength as I can muster, unashamed to show her my shiny eyes.

"Unless he's a quick pumper, which isn't exactly far off" she starts which makes me laugh brokenly "There's no way he actually got to you, y'know? Snow promised you to him after the interview. You fucked that up warning Peeta about the attack on 13. After Snow knocked you out, they brought you back in not ten minutes later. We were rescued a half a day later. They were on the frontlines. No one came to fuck with us in that time. I stayed up the whole time. I watched you the whole time."

"You broke your promise?"

"If you thought I really wasn't gonna need to look at your crazy ass when they brought you back, you're stupid. I know what Cliff does to the women POWs. I had to make sure you were breathing. They left you strapped down in front of my cell just like you said they would. When the grid dropped after they got bombed, I even managed to pull you into my cell before the power came on. I swear”

"It was cold"

"They took your clothes. They knew how much you love the things Cinna makes. And to make me think that you had been given to Cliff for a little while before they shipped out. I'm not dumb though. He likes to slice and beat a girl up before he can get his rocks off. You weren't bruised enough. Looked like they just beat you pretty good for the warning"

"You're lying" I begin to sob

"To you? For what? Your minds fucked enough as it is. I'd like no hand in that shit" she laughs and I join in, wrapping arms around her slowly filling out stomach

"Thanks for staying with me. I wouldn't have made it without you" I sigh sleepily, fighting my drooping lids

"Don't I know it" she smirks down at me, knocking her forehead against mine "Good. Your old man's here. Gonna need him to cart you off to bed. That meat's making you chunky"

"Good" I snicker

Prim has waves over Haymitch, who was looking for an excuse to ditch his next meeting anyway, asking him to carry me back to my room. More like my zoo exhibit cage. Johanna helps me turn on the seat, loosely wrapping my arms around his neck and back as he carries me piggyback to my room.

"Nice bruise on the forehead there darlin" he laughs around a lollipop.

A new guilty pleasure of his that helps distract him from the no alcohol rule down here. That rule definitely fuckin bites. I'd love a good drink right now.

"Had to hit something" I shrug with a yawn

"I take it you saw Peeta"

"I don't want to talk about it. My head hurts. Maybe later. I just have to sort it all out for a while first"

He hums but says nothing further as he waves his band in front of my cage to open the door. Once he sets me on the bed, he helps turn my body so I'm lying back against the pillows.

"Go ahead. I know they want you to strap me down"

"And since when have I given a shit about what other people want me to do?" he asks with a quirked brow

"True"

I roll onto my side and watch him as he sits in the chair beside the bed. It's usually occupied by the moron of a head doctor here.

"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course"

I snuggle further into my blanket and just watch his chest rise and fall as he pulls a book out of his jacket and begins to read to himself.

"I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Aren't we all?"

"You know what I mean"

"Do I?"

"My mind. There's no real helping this level of psychosis is there?"

"And what level is that?"

I hated when he answered my questions with questions like this.

"To see someone as a monster...but still want those same hands on you. No matter how terrified you are of the fact that you know they're meant to kill you. You want them anyway. Knowing it means your death. To find comfort in the arms of death?"

"Is that the crossroad you're at right now?"

"Yeah. I don't feel safe anymore. I don't know if I ever have, outside of the fractured memories that tell me I did with him. They hurt. It all hurts. What am I even still here for?"

We're quiet for a while before I begin to sob. I bawl so hard my bed rocks violently beneath me, my body releasing what I hadn't been able to in the last 6 months.

"I wish they'd killed me" I cry finally admitting to Haymitch the one thing I hadn't been able to admit to myself aloud "I can't live like this. Broken and fractured beyond repair! No one deserves to live as a shell. A ghost. A monster mutt terrified of other mutts!"

He doesn't say a word but his arms are around me in seconds, scooping me up, pulling me into the armchair so I'm sitting sideways in his lap. My sobs have only gotten harder and I'm barely breathing through them.

"That is not what you are! Do you hear me? You feel this way because you know that's not who you are! You feel her fighting, clawing desperately to get out from beneath the rubble of fucked up things that the Capitol dropped on you" Haymitch rumbles giving me a reassuring squeeze. "How about this? Everyone always wants you to pull your memories. How about we listen to some of my more sober ones of who you really are?"

"Yeah" I nod with a sniffle

So, he begins his tales. The more he talks the deeper I fall into the dream of living this girl's life as he describes her. The fire. The passion. Quickest to throw myself into the flames if it meant keeping those I claimed never to care for, away from harm. Alone since 8 but surviving on my own since 10. Preferring to keep to the woods, when possible, never was one to enjoy wearing pants. She didn't sound very nice but she was kind, passionate and strong.

I dreamt of her. In a field of dandelions, singing to the mockingjays above her head. The only times she ever felt free as a child.

***

"Ah. I always wondered what had happened" Haymitch nods before smirking at me

"That was not one of my finest moments" I scoff

"Sounded like one to me. You felt things you weren't ready to and tackled it head on anyway. Albeit, aggressively as hell but, you did it. Now, teasing the boys while you made your point? Stroke of genius" Haymitch chuckles

"I didn't even mean what I was saying. Like, Finn's cute and all, but in that annoying big brother kind of way. It's why I needed to apologize. I was trying to hurt everyone because I was hurting and couldn't figure out how to deal with it at the time. Nothing I was feeling made sense and it terrified me. It wasn't fair but I did it. It's why I had to say sorry"

"I can respect that"

"Finn's cute?" Peeta repeats above my head having apparently only heard that part of my spiel.

I shrink into his chest a little and nudge his chin up with the top of my head. Trackerjacker me tended to lean on Finnick a lot so we bonded quickly. I'd spent a lot of time with him. He was always nice to me even when I was losing my marbles. Even when I'd tried to kill Peeta again in the Capitol, he was soft in his tone and gentle in his handling of me even when I didn't know who or where I was. Used to it I suppose.

I later learned that it always stroked the beast of jealousy's back within Peeta back then.

"And Peeta is drippin wet, panty droppa, smoking hot”  I grin over at Haymitch knowing that Peeta is bright red above me.

He coughs and Haymitch hands me another clear liquor bottle to sip from.

"Finish about when you joined the squad at the Capitol" Peeta chokes

I try to ignore that he's dipped his chin so his lips are beside my neck and his left hand has released mine to trail back and forth across my waist line. I launch back into the memory before his hands distract me with hunger.

[whumpers-monthly]

Idk if this is too specific to be a prompt (maybe you can pare it down to something mpre suitable) but I woke up the other day with this scenario in my head:

Person A walks in to their bedroom or living room to see a stranger in their arm chair with their hand fisted in Person B's hair, who is kneeling - bloodied, bound & gagged - on the floor in front of them. Person B is physically subdued but clearly still defiant & struggling. The stranger does a cool villian line like "welcome home, I thought we might have a word . . . in private"

It seems like you can go a lot of different places with that and it's such a tantalizing start!

Hello anon

Thank you for this prompt. I turned it into Ambushed at Home, but also put your text on the prompt. I hope you like the prompt like that and that there will be a lot of submissions.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Sinful: Scion!Hanzo Shimada x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Chapter 1

Contains: Spanking with objects, mentions of buttplugs and collars, Switch!Hanzo and Switch!Reader, dragons, hair pulling, creampies

The Shimada clan was one to be feared; Not only in the beautiful imperial islands of Japan but all over. They were powerful business partners other mafias and organizations would kill to have them as partners, able to supply weapons and trained deadly armored guards at a moment’s notice. However, strike their match’s bud the wrong way and whoever the poor sap started the fire will get burned and it will be devastating.

You should know, you’ve seen what happens to ex-business partners that try to get their revenge on the Shimada’s. Your husband was vicious as he was quick to dish out punishment. Hanzo was a stern, powerful leader, yes-

But he was so incredibly wrapped around your fingers, ready to bend to your will at your call.

Which led you to where you were at this very moment.

There was a room that was special to you two only, a room you both keep secret as well as the many treasures that lay inside its cavity. Nobody is allowed near the room. Choice guards, maids, even the elders he denied.

The usual light lacquered wooden floors lining the flooring of the whole castle were covered in a deep red carpet soft to the touch, but still tough enough to bite at your skin should you rub into it for too long. The familiar shoji walls were covered with black paint and silken curtains and sound-proofing foam in case things were to ever get too loud for your liking. The doors even had three different key locks you both made sure to change often out of privacy. Dark cherrywood dressers were full of not only lingerie and sleek black leather harnesses, but a variety of toys in various degrees.

Vibrators, plugs, gags, handcuffs, whips and riding crops, studded belts, blindfolds, ropes of various textures and twists were some of the many you had in every dresser.

You stood before Hanzo who had been kneeling on the carpeted floor for some time now. His bronzed skin had slowly been turning a grueling pinkish tone from the grading carpet sprigs, surely they were going to be sore when your night of debauchery ceases, maybe even a little scratched up. You made sure to remind yourself to pamper him afterwards once you both had returned to your chambers after this was done.

His thin ankles had been pulled together by a single, long blue silken strap, a tight knot decorated with a bow on top had tickled the exposed joint of his ankles, his toes twitching and curling somewhat with every light breezy stroke on the sensitive skin. He barely could shift his feet if he wished to.

His hands had been bound behind his back by two matching ribbons. One kept him together by his forearms starting from below the bend of his elbows down the length of his muscular forearms, tying at his wrists with a sloppy bow. The other ribbon started where the other ended, wrapping around both palms to keep them closed, binding fingers closed as well. The ribbons creaked eerily every time his muscles twitched. You knew that your husband was strong enough to break them with only a simple flex and pound into you mercilessly. You could barely suck back in the drool from spilling over your swollen lower lip, just the sight of your muscular husband tied up like a puppet had been doing wonders on your pulsing hot sex. Muscles held back by silken ribbons, dipping and digging into every bulge of hard muscle.

You slowly stepped behind Hanzo, pacing around him carefully on the tip of your toes so as to lessen the amount of noise you made. You circled him like he was your prey (even though you knew you were in fact the prey here, Hanzo was merely allowing you to mess with him). You had stripped him of the pristine white button-up, still clean and crisp as if he had just gotten it, his sleek black dress slacks as well. He kneeled before you in only his underwear. They were cheap, something Hanzo wore only when you both agreed upon a night for yourselves. They were uncomfortable with Hanzo’s royal jewels, but it was much more satisfying to rip them off of his body to reveal his cock and balls. Besides; the underwear was made of a cheap and thin material, you could see the bulge of his cock pressing up against the cheap boxer briefs.

You hummed, strutting behind him to the cherrywood dressers, specifically the middle one. It had a large hutch on top with doors where you kept the riding crops. You saw Hanzo’s shoulders stiffen upon hearing the familiar squeaking of the doors opening, his toes curling into the carpet sprigs. The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a coy little smile.

You slowly glanced over the many types of crops and other tools deemed well enough for spanking. Amongst riding crops hanging up were a single piece of bamboo that was thick enough to not break apart upon spanking and a cricket paddle with the word ‘Naughty’ written sloppily on it. Multiples whips of varying origins laid curled up on the bottom, one from Australia from before radiation consumed most of the Outback, one from Texas made from only the toughest of bull hides, one was personally made for your private meetings with your husband that laid in a fine loop of black shiny leather with small spikes down the thin leather. It was perfect for when you wanted to see him squirm during important meetings, little welts down the curves of his sculpted ass cheeks, hot throbbing pain fading to dull pulses the more he sat on that wonderful ass of his.

You decided upon a riding crop from England’s finest for only the most finest of racing stallions. A thick black leather handle, squishy to the grip, perfect to hold and to never lose grip upon bringing it down onto flanks (of various species). The tube pristine and a shiny matte black finish on cool hollowed steel. The head of the crop was polished leather, blackened and shiny, ready to once again crack against Hanzo’s flanks.

You spotted how his shoulders had shifted upon hearing your selection, trained ears picking up the soft clinging of steel against the hooks that held it up in the cabinet. A smirk curled up on your lips, seeing Hanzo’s shoulders strain and tense, ribbons creaking as he twisted his wrists slightly.

You chuckled under your breath, slowly walking up behind your husband, the riding crop swinging lazily with every movement of your arm. You stopped yourself behind him, opting to lift up your foot and press it between his shoulder blades, putting just enough pressure to force Hanzo to bend at the waist and press his forehead against the scraggly carpet.

“Now,” you tutted, walking to his side, “how long did it take for you to come up here? How many minutes were you late by?” you hissed softly in his ear.

“Seven minutes, my diamond.”

“And what pitiful excuse do you have for me?”

Hanzo swallowed thickly, finding his throat suddenly dry and tight.

“A meeting had run late, my diamond. There is no excuse.”

“And do you know what your punishment is? Making me wait so long, I nearly relieved my pent-up tension without you.”

“Please forgive me, my love. I will take whatever punishment you put upon me.”

“I expected nothing less.” You walked behind Hanzo, seeing his body tense up a bit, no longer feeling your presence beside him. You raised the head of the riding crop up to the cheap underwear. You bent down a bit, hooking a finger in the waistband of the cheap bargain brand boxers. You gave the waistband a quick flick, letting them snap back against his waist before rehooking a finger around and pulling them down the curve of his sculpted ass. You gingerly caressed them for a mere second before gripping the riding crop harder and stepping back. “Seven strikes for seven minutes. Then maybe, maybe, I will let you finger me until I come.”

“Whatever to please you, my dearest,” he called from the floor.

You raised the crop, tightening your arms back you released the coil in your shoulders and allowing the crop to crack down on Hanzo’s ass. Hanzo moaned in pain softly, knees buckling and spreading farther apart. The ribbons hissed, Hanzo’s fingers flexed and curled in tightly to form two fists. A shiver ran down Hanzo’s back violently.

You strutted out from behind Hanzo, cocking a brow at how silent Hanzo had fallen. Thick raven black strands of hair were already clinging to his tight jawline from sweat, some had fallen over his eyes. You waited a mere minute, dangling the riding crop loosely in your ringed fingers, waiting for him to open his mouth and count.

“Hanzo,” you tutted like an annoyed mother, “you’re supposed to count dear. Or do I need to start over? I’d hate to restart, even if you were spanked once.”

“I am sorry, my love.”

You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down deliciously. You licked at your bottom lip slightly, eyeing him as if he were a prized cut of meat being seared deliciously. There was a slight taste of the creamy lipstick gracing the tip of your tongue, smoothed colored beeswax and shea butter briefly filled the cavity of your mouth. You swore you drooled at the sight of him.

“Good. Now, what was that?”

“One, mistress.”

You strut behind him once more, Hanzo tensing once more as he saw your heeled feet leave his peripheral. You purred, raising the riding crop once more and letting it whistle as you swung it back down.

A sharp crack against Hanzo’s lower right hip had Hanzo bend over just a bit, his knees part just a little bit apart and letting him sink down closer to the floor. A cry pressed at Hanzo’s lips, a hiss leaving.

“T-Two,” he stuttered.

You twisted the crop in your fingers, admiring how the leather shined nicely in the dim lighting. Two bright red welts were starting to form on Hanzo’s hide.

You coiled your arm back and lunged out once more, this time earning you a cry from him, loud and open, right from his chest. His head shot back, jaw slacking. You had struck him right above his asscrack, watching at the toned muscles of his ass rippled slightly from the smack.

“Three,” he gasped.

Your free hand reached out and snagged at Hanzo’s loosened locks, free from chemicals and gels and sprays meant to keep up his appearance before the clan. Fingers anchored around locks of raven black, you tugged Hanzo’s head back farther so he would look up to you. You could see his cock straining, still inside the confines of the cheap underwear.

Hanzo’s eyes were squinted through pain, white teeth bared slightly.

“Whose cock is that for?”

“You, my love. Only you,” he exhaled.

His back was bent at a slight arch already.

You spanked him once more with the crop, Hanzo’s mouth opening to moan, eyes screwing shut. A light pink blush has spread over his cheeks and nose. His back arched more, a feat only achieved from his years of discipline and training.

“F-Four,” he gasped.

“It seems you’re enjoying your punishment.” You cracked his asscheeks again. “I don’t think this is working, I may need to step it up, Hanzo.”

“Five,” he moaned. He blinked, tears had gathered at the corners of his eyes but had not fallen. “My love, I assure you, I am learning from this.”

You squinted at Hanzo, debating if you should plug his asshole with a vibrating buttplug and leave him bent over, hunched down with his forehead to the floor and ass in the air for all to see.

Another crack, this time a single tear was jerked free from his left eye from the pain, a serpent’s hiss pulling from Hanzo’s gritted mouth.

“Six.”

“You’re my little bottom bitch, aren’t you, Hanzo?”

He nodded wordlessly, panting as if he ran a marathon. Hell, he was sweating as if he had been.

It was at least somewhat true. Hanzo loved it when you dominated him, especially after a stressful day of leading the Shimada Clan and being the most feared yakuza boss in all of Japan.

But that didn’t mean he was a full-on bottom.

You were suddenly reminded of Hanzo’s brutal strength when the ribbons hissed and creaking, suddenly looking very worn and on the edge of ripped down the middle.

What you would give to be fucked right now, for Hanzo to rip out of the ribbons and fuck you until you forgot your own name.

Your grip on Hanzo’s hair tightened before you pushed him forward, delivering the final crack on his asscheeks.

The ribbons wrapped around Hanzo’s wrists had snapped apart with a very audible rip straight from a movie. Hanzo’s hands gripped onto the carpeted floor, nails biting into the soft sprigs of colored wool, scratching raised grooves into the carpet as Hanzo’s back and shoulders rolled back, head ducked below his shoulders. Sweat glistened like sparkles on his bronzed skin, intricate tattoos shiny in the low lighting.

Hanzo rolled his shoulders back, lifting his head, raven locks clinging to his sweaty neck and shoulders.

You watched as Hanzo had shot up from the floor, launching himself at you. You could only let out a short yelp before he had you pinned to one of the walls by the throat, the riding crop falling to the carpeted floor. Your fingers gently scratched at Hanzo’s tattooed wrist, a soft squeak let open lips as Hanzo looked at you dangerously. He was panting like a wild animal, and the dampness in your panties did not help your fantasies of getting fucked by as if you both were wild creatures did not help.

You were yanked until he had pushed you violently back, your back now up against the lip of a lower dresser full of toys. You only got to see maybe a moment of Hanzo advancing towards you before you were flipped so your stomach was pushing against the rounded lip of the dresser and your face pressed against the flat top.

“Hanzo,” you whimpered, gripping at the back of the dresser.

“You are not the only one receiving punishment tonight,” Hanzo growled in your ear. “I saw you relieving yourself earlier this morning when you thought I had already left for my meeting.”

Your eyes widened a bit, cheeks flushing at the thought of you getting caught by Hanzo masturbating while still in bed.

Hanzo quickly yanked down your soaking panties, groaning with delight at the sight of your bare pussy before all but ripping off the cheap boxers off his person.

You felt the thick head poke at your ass before he slid it along, pushing into your dripping folds as he completely covered you with his bulky form. Hands on either side of your shoulders, trapping you from moving. You winced as he ground against your bare ass, a growl leaving his lips as he shoveled his nose into your hair.

You winced as a sudden electric blue light filled the dim room, the bright neon hurting your eyes for a mere second before it had faded.

You knew what had happened as you quickly felt little clawed feet gently latch onto the sweaty skin of your legs and hips. His duel dragons had decided it was time to make an appearance at this very moment, feeling their master’s fierce arousal as well as the tense feelings from your spankings. It was a nice reprieve to have cool watery scaley skin hovering just barely over yours, but the pinpoint prickling in your hips from their claws only made you whine impatiently.

Your mouth suddenly opened, neck flexed yet no sound came from you as you felt Hanzo sink himself fully in, stretching you. You threw your head back, eyes screwed shut once more as Hanzo growled into the crook of your neck as he began to piston his hips.

Snapping his groin back and forth quickly, pounding into your throbbing sex, you both fell apart in moaning messes. Hanzo had placed more of his muscular weight on top of your back and shoulders, forcing you closer to the dresser until you were pressed flat. Hanzo’s hands snatched at your waist, nails biting into your delicate skin. Cresent moons would be carved into your naked flesh, they’ll be red and sore come morning.

You cried out as Hanzo plowed into you without mercy, pent up agitation on top of being spanked and teased relentlessly finally snapped something inside of him; It seemed to have brought out an almost feral side of him.

You licked your lips in anticipation, stopping yourself from drooling against the flat surface. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth hung open slightly from the pure pleasure you were feeling right now. You loved how fast the coils in your cunt and gut tightened until it was white-hot and you came on his thick cock, seemingly spurring him on to make you come at least twice before he finishes, but something about him right now had you thinking he wouldn’t let up after he came once.

Hanzo clamped his teeth down on your shoulder as you moaned out, feeling the coils of your orgasm tighten.

Pain and pleasure never felt so good together.

“You’re such a filthy little slut,” he growled in your ear. His sharp teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Look at you, greedily taking everything I give you. Nothing but a doll in my hands, to do with as I please.”

“Hanzo!” you cried, feeling the tightness in your gut start to burn.

You were close. And the twitching of his dick inside of you showed he was too.

Hanzo snatched at your hair, gripping it tightly, arching your neck back but you managed to look at Hanzo out of the corner of your eye.

“What are you?” he snarled.

“I’m yours!” you sobbed.

“Who do you belong to?” he demanded.

“You! Only you!”

You came violently, Hanzo had let go of your hair to allow you to snatch at the dresser and shudder as your orgasm ripped through you, your slick coating down Hanzo’s cock.

You felt the two dragons nose at your sex, licking up your orgasm with their little forked tongues, their cool little bodies felt so nice on your heated flesh. They nipped at your inner legs, little fangs and claws on your sensitive spots nearly had your knees give out.

Your eyes fluttered as you came down from your high slowly, going slack between Hanzo behind you and the dresser beneath you until his pace grew sloppier by the thrust until he came.

He threw his head back slightly as he came, mouth open as he released a groan of pure pleasure. Hot ropes of precious Shimada cum coated your insides, painting them white as Hanzo rode out his climax inside of you, a few more lazy thrusts as he shuddered. Cum leaked out from your sex and dripped onto the floor, needing to be cleaned soon or else you faced a soiled carpet, but something told you that you would have a light stain forever on the dark carpet.

Hanzo didn’t even bat an eye as he grabbed onto your waist and twisted you, tossing you to the floor. You landed on your back with a gasp, looking up at Hanzo. You suddenly felt like prey, but the sinful blush on your cheeks only buried yourself deeper in the sin bin as you stared up at him breathless and panting, still leaking cum down your thighs.

Hanzo glared at you, playful hints in his dark amber eyes.

“Look at the mess you have made of the carpet,” he teased. “Must I teach you the lesson this time?”

You had failed to notice Hanzo had grabbed something from the cabinet, and now a thick leather collar was held tightly in Hanzo’s grip as he loomed over you.

You had a feeling the carpet would need to be changed out after tonight.

[caroldantops]

I've been thinking a Lot about Agatha and throat fucking and sucking her off and and and and and

ohhhh yes.

imagine her having you bound kneeling in front of her, arms behind your back tied up with her magic, maybe your legs bound too. agatha definitely loveeesss seeing indents of ropes and stuff on your skin so she probably makes it so her magic leaves little marks on your afterwards too

and she'd step in front of you, naked except for the lengthy purple strap harnessed around her hips. grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks telling you "open up, buttercup."

and you do, and she spits on your tongue. you don't dare swallow until she tells you to. and she doesn't, simply shoves the tip of her strap between your lips and starts fucking your throat, going steadily deeper with each thrust.

she'd love watching the drool spill from your mouth. and even moreso she'd love pushing as deep as she can and holding you there as long as possible. as she's trained your throat more and more, you naturally get better and better at this little game. so ofc being the meanie she is, she'd pinch your nose closed so you couldn't breathe and she could hear you gag and feel you try to wiggle away from her <3

also agatha loves using a cumstrap and painting your face and tits with it. she loves it like 100x more than having you swallow it, she just wants to see you covered in cum and rub it into your skin just to make fun of how messy you are.

[lilliemeadowsxoxo]

Releasing-part one

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖™

🄱🄸🄻🄻🅈🄷🄰🅁🄶🅁🄾🅅🄴 🅇 🅁🄴🄰🄳🄴🅁

The reader is a little curvy in this fic, and she has belly fat.

Tw- smut, fluff, Billy BC he needs a warning, reader is in modern times, and billy is in a TV show reader is female

ḾḬṄṌṘṠ ḌṄḬ ṲṄḌḘṘ ṪḢḘ ḈṲṪ

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

December 24th, 2023- 11:59 pm

You were finishing wrapping presents for your friends, placing the last one under the tree. Turning on your favorite show with a click of the remote, 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

You watched billy walk across the screen, so flawless it made your stomach turn flips; he was perfect from his curled hair to his tight jeans that no man should ever wear outside the house. You sighed to yourself "𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕? 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒔" you giggled to yourself at the thought of the man in nothing but Christmas ribbons. You slowly drifted off to sleep on the couch, not noticing the rustling sounds, or the muffled curses, or the dramatic sighs and noises of your things being knocked over, or the large figure placing a human shaped present under your tree, bound in nothing but ribbons, gagged with a candy cane, and wearing a tag around his neck stating

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓, 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔!

December 25th, 2023-6:30 am

Billy was done.just done. Woke up in the middle of the night, thrown in a bag, jostled around, tied up and under someones Christmas tree.half naked.he had managed to use one of the presents to hide his dick, at least. He layer there quietly. Still fuming, but as he was gagged with the biggest fucking candy cane ever, could not talk. He had to wait till this psycho woke up. And to make it word she was wearing a little Christmas collar. With a tag. Someone was getting their ass kicked the 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 he got free. A bundle on the couch made a sleepy noise, and started to move. He looked towards it, disinterested and a little pissed. A very sleepy looking girl with a well....𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 body full of curves sat up her tank top ridden up half way, showing stretch marks along the sides, and belly fat. A medium amount, and unfortunately, made him hard. She took a second to notice him, and screamed when she did. First fear, then confusion, then excitement. Her questions ran a mile a minute and that's great and all but yk. he let our a loud "mmmmmmmmhskenendnddndnsnsn!!!!!!!!" Wich translated too "LET ME THE FUCK UP.NOW." You ungagged him, kneeling beside him. You told him your little wish, and his nostrils flared, then he looked at you.reallllly looked at you. Maybe, billy was getting the present...you left him tied up but did manage to sit him up. You hand fed him (he Also protested to) you notice after standing up (you sat in his lap.seized the opportunity girl) his...𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 is painfully hard, and leaking little white pearls.you let out the prettiest little noise, that got his attention.

𝓸𝓱~!

@billys-pretty-babe

@heartbreak-sandwich

[tozettastone]

Naruto: "Pride and Prejudice"

Hmm I actually wrote a Pride and Prejudice fusion crack ficlet years ago: A Shark With Five Thousand A Year,

I guess this could be a totally bonkers, completely different, vaguely Regency Era AU... Maybe we keep the ninja magic.

-----

When he was at last bundled out of the carriage, Deidara was grimy, exhausted, and spitting mad. His hands were bound behind his back and they'd done something—some weird magic—that had sealed up all of his own chakra so he couldn't set the rope afire. The door opened with a click, and he got a glimpse of the same guy who had so easily overpowered him two days earlier: an enormous brute of a man, bigger than any Deidara had ever seen, with facial tattoos and a riotous mane of hair.

What was someone like that doing kidnapping sappers of the royal engineers, Deidara wanted to know, and not fighting on the front lines himself? He looked like the equal of any six infantrymen. There was a lot of hard muscle under all that soft fat.

He bodily hauled Deidara free of the carriage and kicked the shining, dark-enamelled door closed after him. Deidara had just enough time to see those same teeth and bare his own right back—and then the big guy kicked the back of his knee out from under him and the next thing Deidara saw was just the dirt between the wet stones of a dark, torch-lit courtyard.

Before him were steps, and then columns, and then what Deidara's brain categorised as some kind of public building: a large, imposing structure with a heap of windows, and presumably intended to show off the grandeur of the empire.

Usually Deidara's chakra kept him warm. It was itself a warm thing, good with rock, with lightning, with radiant heat. But it was sealed away, and the stones' chill immediately seeped straight through the knees of his trousers. He shuddered.

"What the hell is your problem?" he snarled, but like every other rude thing he'd said in the past two days, it was muffled by the gag. His mouth was painfully dry now, anyway; the rag crushed against his tongue felt like sandpaper.

"Try to contain yourself for a minute," the huge guy advised. He sounded sympathetic, but he'd sounded sympathetic when he'd kidnapped Deidara, too. And then later when he'd bound his hands and gagged him. He had a firm grip in Deidara's greasy hair and upon his shoulder, and his voice was deep and rumbling. "Nobody's ordered you killed or anything."

Deidara wrenched his head around so he could glare back at him. He lost some hair in the process, and his sudden movement must have upset the horses, because he heard the stamp of hooves and an unsettled neigh from the shadow of the carriage.

"That's a pretty scary look," said the big guy, sounding conciliatory.

They weren't left waiting for long in that dark courtyard, but it was long enough that Deidara started to shudder involuntarily in the wind.

He jerked his head back up when he heard whisper-light footfalls on the steps. Kneeling on the stones, at first all he he noticed was the bizarre absurdity of cream silk slippers, gleaming with a pale camellia embroidered upon their toes.

The woman who belonged to the shoes descended the steps, apparently unconcerned about the effect of the damp on all her fine silk, and peered closely at him. Her face was serene.

"Is this really the infamous 'devil' of the southern regiment?" she wondered. She leaned down, elaborate blond ringlets trailing over her shoulder, just to catch his eyes.

Her eyes had no pupils. Just endless, cold blue, gleaming gold in the torchlight.

He was caught in her gaze for a long second, falling into her empty gaze like an icy pool. The pressure in his skull was alien, unwanted, and unbearable. He tore his eyes away with effort.

"Miss Yamanaka," said the big guy, a name that made a hard little ball of dread tangle up in Deidara's stomach. What could he possibly know that warranted being stolen by that terrible family of secret-keepers? "He's not really at his best. He didn't want to come."

"Hmph. Well, he has the family temper. And... yes, I think something of the gift. I wonder what daddy will think?" She tapped her lower lip with one gloved finger. "Tell me, devil," she said then, staring down at him. "Do you think I'm beautiful?"

On principle, he shook his head furiously.

Behind him, the big guy just heaved a giant sigh. "I really wish you hadn't done that."

[tortellini-bandit]

- The Throne

Word count: 2.1k~

Description: Alex and Henry fuck in the throne room in Buckingham Palace. Also Henry has a crown.

Edited by: @morbific-or-felicific

Alex’s legs are already asleep from where he’s been kneeling on the soft, carpeted floor for so long, and his jaw was beginning to ache. He stares up at Henry through his lashes, Henry’s cock in his mouth. Not moving, not sucking, just holding him in his mouth because that’s all Henry had asked him to do. His hands are bound behind his back with Henry’s belt; the only article of clothing Henry has removed so far. Alex has been in this position long enough that he’s unsure of exactly how long he’s been there.

Henry stares back down at him, expression cold. He’s dressed in a black and gold three-piece suit, perfectly pressed. His golden hair is styled just so, not a hair out of place. And sitting on his perfect hair rests a crown. It’s an ornate black crown, inlaid with clear garnet. Alex almost whines at the sight.

The air of Buckingham Palace’s large, empty throne room is cool against Alex’s bare skin. He’s kneeling on the red velvet of the dais in between Henry’s open legs, as Henry sits on the throne, looking for all the world like he was born to sit on a throne while people kneel at his feet. Alex supposes he was.

As much convincing as it took to get Henry to agree to sneak into Buckingham Palace while it was closed to the public and fuck on Queen Mary’s throne, he sure seems pretty happy if his hard cock in Alex’s mouth was anything to go by.

“Look at you, so desperate just from having my cock down your throat,” Henry mocks. Alex swallows, and he hears Henry’s breath hitch, clearly more affected than he’s letting on. Henry’s long fingers wind their way into Alex’s dark curls and tug sharply, Alex moans, and Henry’s hips buck up once, involuntarily. “God, you’re such a slut, on your knees for me when you know that any minute security could walk through that door and see you,” Henry says. Alex knows this isn’t true. They took measures to make sure nobody would enter this room while they were here. But the idea of some unsuspecting member of staff walking in and seeing Alex, completely naked, bound, and with the Prince of Wales’s dick halfway down his throat has him almost coming on the spot. “Since you’ve been so good, sitting here all pretty for me, I’ll reward you. I’m going to fuck your mouth, and if you don’t gag, I’ll fuck you. And maybe, if I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you come. Now suck.”

Alex pulls back until just the head rests in his mouth and he sucks, swirling his tongue around the head. Henry thrusts his hips forward, purposefully this time, and Alex resists his gag reflex and focuses on relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose as Henry finds a rhythm of slow, deep strokes. Alex hums contentedly, knowing the vibrations will go straight to Henry’s dick, letting his mouth be used.

His own cock is straining against his stomach, beading precum, but he ignores it. He shifts a little, trying to get the blood flowing through his limbs again, flexing his hands where they’re still tied behind him. The belt is just on the side of too tight, and it’s starting to dig into his wrists; there’s definitely going to be marks tomorrow, Alex can’t wait.

Henry’s crown stills rests perfectly on his head, completely unmoved despite the fact that he’s now fucking up roughly into Alex’s mouth. “Bloody hell, you’re such a little cockslut, aren’t you? You’ll do anything to get my cock inside you.” He pulls away suddenly, and Alex whines at the loss. Henry laughs and a shiver runs down Alex’s spine.

Then Alex is being pulled upwards by his hair, and he follows eagerly, if a little wobbly. His limbs are still numb, and his mind is a little fuzzy, unable to focus on thoughts for very long. Henry pulls Alex onto his lap, and Alex shifts, trying to get into a comfortable position, straddling Henry’s thighs. Henry reaches into his jacket’s inside pocket and produces a tiny bottle of lube.

“Please! Fuck me, I need it so bad,” Alex moans, desperate now, unable to form coherent thought. Alex grinds down on Henry’s lap, desperate for friction, groaning when he feels Henry’s aching cock beneath him, still slick with Alex’s spit. Alex’s buries his head in Henry’s shoulder, and he pants. He feels Henry’s long, elegant finger at his entrance and Alex pushes back onto it, desperate to be filled. Henry’s crown is still centred, perfect on his royal head. It’s infuriating. It’s hot as fuck. Alex whines into Henry’s neck, kissing and licking lazily while grinding back on Henry’s finger.

“Fuck, you’re such a whore. Desperate and whining like a bitch in heat just from this. You’re practically fucking yourself on me, love.” Henry crooks his finger, hitting that spot that makes Alex see stars. He groans loudly, detaching himself from Henry’s neck where he had been sucking a rather impressive mark. Henry adds a second finger, hitting his sweet spot with every thrust, and Alex writhes in his lap, unsure whether to grind forward to get friction for his neglected cock, or backward onto Henry’s perfect fingers. He ends up finding a rhythm between the two, rocking back and forth.

“Fuck me, please! I’m ready I promise, please I need your cock so bad,” Alex whines into Henry’s shoulder. He’s not ready, two fingers are not enough. He knows that, Henry knows that, but he’s hoping he’ll be able to convince Henry otherwise. Henry tugs sharply on his hair and he gasps, forcing Alex to look at Henry’s gorgeous, azure eyes that are currently glaring at him.

“If you don’t behave, I’m not going to let you come for a week. This isn’t about you and what you want. This is about you serving your prince the only way you’re good for. So, you’re going to sit here and take what I give you, and then you’re going to thank me.” Henry’s left hand is still holding painfully hard onto Alex’s curls while his right hand is scissoring two fingers inside Alex, stubbornly avoiding his prostate. A testament to how well he knows his body.

Alex keens and nods; Henry tugs harder at his hair, never once faltering in his rhythm. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Good. You’re such a good little fucktoy.” Henry adds a third finger and Alex moans, desperate and needy and eager to please. He fucks himself back onto Henry’s hand, pulling at his restraints, aching to touch Henry, resenting the fact that he can’t.

Finally, after far too long, Henry pulls his fingers out. Alex whines at the loss. Then Henry is encouraging Alex to sit up on his lap, and Alex feels the tip of Henry’s slick cock pressing against him, and he’s more than okay with the loss of his fingers. Henry doesn’t go slow, confident in his prep. Alex practically screams, feeling very full, very suddenly. He meets Henry thrust for thrust. His cock is dripping, ruining Henry’s golden waistcoat. Because Henry is still almost fully clothed while Alex bounces on his lap, completely naked, as Henry sits on his throne in his castle with his stupid crown that’s still sitting perfectly on his stupid perfect hair. Alex aches to run his fingers through his hair, to mess it up, maybe knock the crown askew, but he can’t because he’s tied up, completely at Henry’s mercy, unable to do anything except take what he’s given. Like a good little bitch.

Henry is still stubbornly avoiding his sweet spot, proving his point that this isn’t about Alex’s pleasure. “Please, I need to come! Please let me come, I need it, please!” Alex isn’t even sure if he’s being coherent anymore. His voice is rough from getting his throat fucked, and he can barely see straight, let alone think, or form proper sentences.

Henry’s large hands are on Alex’s waist, helping him fuck himself back on his cock. Alex’s key is sticking to his chest with sweat, and some of his curls are sticking to his forehead. His legs are shaking, sore and protesting against his movement, and Alex loves every second of it. He must look like a helpless mess, a stark contrast to Henry who still looks perfectly composed.

“Do you think you’ve earned it? Have you been a good fucktoy?” Alex nods desperately.

“Yes! Yes, I’ve been good, please.”

Henry shifts his angle, hitting Alex’s prostate with every stroke. Alex almost blacks out from the sudden burst of pleasure after being denied for so long. He’s so hard that it hurts, and Henry’s waistcoat is well and truly ruined now.

Henry’s thrusts are starting to get a little sloppy; he’s losing his rhythm and Alex knows that means he’s close.

“Fuck, you look so good on my cock. Looks like you were made for this. Made to be fucked.”

“Yes! Fuck, use me, I’m yours to use however you want.” Alex feels a sharp pain on his neck and he cries out; Henry had bit him, hard, wanting to leave a mark that would last for days. So that everyone else could see who he belonged to. Henry soothed the wound with his tongue before moving up nip and suck at Alex’s ear.

“Mine.” He claims him. Then Alex hears that gorgeous, breathless laugh and he feels Henry’s hot cum inside him, and Alex almost chokes on his own tongue. Henry is fucking him through the aftershocks and then he’s grabbing Alex’s cock in his large hand, jerking him quickly. “Come for me, darling.” And that’s all it takes for Alex’s orgasm to hit so hard that his vision whites out for a few seconds. Henry works him gently through it until Alex is whining and trying to get away due to the oversensitivity.

Henry carefully undoes the belt tying Alex’s wrists together and Alex rolls his shoulders and rubs at his wrists, trying to get the blood flowing again. Then Henry is rubbing cream on his sore wrists, Alex doesn’t even know where he got it, and he’s hit with a rush of overwhelming love and gratitude. “I love you so fucking much.” Henry pauses where he’s still rubbing cream on Alex’s wrists and he looks up at Alex, blue eyes soft and so full of love. He presses a gentle, lingering kiss to Alex’s lips and Alex finally gets to thread his fingers through Henry’s soft hair, knocking the crown gently off balance.

“I love you too, darling,” Henry says when he pulls back. “We need to get off of this throne and out of this godforsaken palace. I told myself I would never come back here again. I still can’t believe you managed to convince me to plan a trip to London just so that we could have sex on a throne.”

“Don’t pretend like this wasn’t the perfect fuck you to your racist, homophobic grandmother.”

“I said nothing of the sort.”

“Good, now help me get up. I haven’t been able to feel my legs in over an hour.”

“So dramatic, we’ve hardly been here an hour.” Henry pulls out slowly, and Alex hisses, resting his forehead against Henry’s, feeling Henry’s cum start leaking slowly out of him. He almost moans. Henry produces a wipe from whatever magical place he got the cream and starts to gently clean Alex. Then he grimaces and looks down at his once perfect suit, now wrinkled and streaked with Alex’s cum. He uses another wipe to clean his suit as best as he can. Alex reaches out to straighten the crown still on Henry’s head and Henry smiles.

Supporting Alex with one hand on his waist and one hand holding his own, he helps Alex stand on shaking legs. Once he’s confident Alex is able to stand on his own, he tucks himself back into his pants and starts threading his belt through belt loops again, and attempts to straighten out his rumpled suit. His hair is still a mess, the crown slightly crooked. Alex chooses not to tell him.

Alex redresses in his clothes that Henry had folded neatly and placed on a chair on the side of the room. They exit the throne room, hands clasped between them, and if any of the Buckingham Palace staff see Alex limping slightly, they don’t say anything.