#tw r@pe

[cosmicwh0r3]

the whorish urge to beg like a dumb slut to be degraded n forced to do humiliating things 🥺

[happyprincesscycle]

Billy Butcher x Supe!Reader

Summary: Billy has captured you to interrogate you about Homelander

(Your Supe powers are like Sage basically you don't have super strength)

Warnings: Tw! NON CON, Dead Dove, please don't read this if you get triggered or are not a fan of dark fics. Its my first fic so sorry if it sucks 🙈🫠

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“Last chance, luv ,” Butcher says, his voice dripping with menace, accent thick and unmistakable. He presses the knife harder against your skin, just enough to draw a bead of blood. “Tell me what I wanna know, and I’ll make it quick.”

He pauses, his smirk twisting into something cruel. “So, what’s it gonna be, eh? Talk, or bleed?”

You shake your head firmly, refusing to give him any information. Butcher sighs, sounding almost disappointed, like you’re just making things harder for yourself.

“Suit yourself.”

He presses down with the knife, carving a shallow cut across your chest. The pain sears through you, and you gasp, arching your back involuntarily. Butcher watches with a twisted satisfaction, his eyes gleaming as he drinks in your suffering.

“That’s just a taste,” he murmurs, wiping the blade clean on your shirt. “Next time, I won’t be so fuckin’ gentle.”

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, before his tongue flicks out, licking the blood from your chest. He trails up to your neck, the sensation making you shudder in revulsion. You try to buck him off, but he’s solid, unyielding.

“Ah, woud' you taste that?” he mutters, nipping at your earlobe. “Fear and adrenaline—me two favorite flavors.”

He pulls back slightly, the knife glinting ominously in his hand. “Ready for round two, then?”

You avert your eyes, refusing to let him see the fear in them. Butcher chuckles, a dark, humorless sound that sends chills down your spine.

“Wot’s the matter, luv ?” He taunts, leaning closer, his voice a low growl. “Cat got yer tongue?”

He moves in even closer, his breath fanning over your face. “Y’know, I’ve always wondered what it’s like to fuck a Supe. Guess tonight’s me lucky night.”

His hips press against yours, and you can feel the hardness of his arousal. He laughs darkly as you squirm beneath him, trying to get away, but it’s no use—he’s too strong.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” he sneers, reaching down and tearing at your pants with rough, impatient hands. “I’ll make sure you enjoy it... Eventually.”

You cry out, struggling against him, but he’s unyielding. He forces your legs apart, his grip bruising as he holds you down.

“Fuckin’ Supes,” he mutters against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “Think you’re invincible, don’t ya? But you’re just flesh and bone, same as the rest of us.”

You try to kick him, to fight back with all your strength, but he’s too fast, too determined. He grabs your thigh, pinning it down as he grinds against you, the evidence of his arousal pressing into you.

He leans in, his teeth sinking into your neck with a feral growl that makes you cry out. The pain is sharp and sudden, and you try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.

“Please...” you cry out, your voice trembling. Butcher pauses, just for a moment, and looks down at you, his eyes narrowing.

“Please?” he echoes, his tone mocking, contemptuous. “You’re a fuckin’ Supe, love. Don’t deserve fuckin’ kindness.”

He grinds against you harder, his dark smile never leaving his face. “You’re nothin’ but a hole to fill, a toy to break. Understand? Say it.”

When you don’t respond, his hand comes down hard against your face, the slap sending a jolt of pain through you. Your vision blurs, and you taste blood on your tongue.

“Oi, I said, say it,” he snarls, gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me you understand, you little cunt.”

Tears spill from your eyes as you nod, your voice barely a whisper. “Y-yes... I understand.”

Butcher’s smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Good girl.”

He pushes your legs wider, his fingers digging into your thighs as he positions himself between them. “Now, let’s stop wasting anymore time, eh?”

He unbuckles his belt with a rough yank, the sound ominous in the silent room. His eyes never leave yours as he positions himself, the dark promise in them making your heart pound in terror.

“Yer gonna take every fuckin’ inch of me, luv'. And yer gonna fuckin’ like it.”

You try to squirm away, desperation clawing at you, but he grabs your hips, holding you in place with brutal force.

“Stay still, you little cunt,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. He slaps your thigh hard, leaving a red, burning handprint. “This is gonna hurt. A lot.”

And with that, he thrusts into you, hard and brutal, tearing a scream from your throat. The pain is overwhelming, but Butcher just laughs, the sound dark and filled with satisfaction.

“Music to me fuckin’ ears,” he murmurs, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force.

“Please,” you whimper, tears streaming down your face. “Please, stop.”

Butcher just laughs again, cold and merciless. “Stop?” he echoes, as if the very idea is absurd. “Why the fuck would I do that, luv'? We’re just gettin’ started.”

[m00njelly2]

(NSFW LINK)

Need a bff like this

[micoz-field-of-dreamz]

oh thats.! thats 2d joking about murdoc being raped!.

[loser-maxxing]

what happens when a dad who hungers for his son learns his son has a boyfriend ..?

hi everyone ..! so, as i have mentioned once or twice across my blog i have been working on a dad-son camping trip smut fic....

well, it is finally available to be read in all its smutty glory.. but first lets go over all the trigger warnings needed for this writing (it is an incredibly triggering story):

incest (father/son)

hard non-con (aka rape, not cnc)

underage sex (main character is a teenager)

sexual and non-sexual violence

a (skippable) vomit scene (there is a warning for once it starts & ends)

death threats, threats of knife violence

forced oral, vaginal, and anal sex

outdoor sex

i think that is just about everything i needed to warn anyone about before reading..

so, proceed with caution as you read this. make sure to take care of yourself both physically and emotionally while reading.

please let me know what y'all end up thinking of this work.. should i post more with tomas and his dad in them ..? i was thinking about working on a sequel.

just pretty please let me know what y'all think ..!

The lowly burning embers of the small fire kept them warm as the first flurry of snow greeted the dad-son duo. Tomas was thankful the snow hadn't started before they got the fire going. It was a freezing day, which made the snow seem almost inevitable at this point. The fire was pathetically crackling and burning on the few non-wet pieces of firewood they could find. The warmth hardly reached their outstretched hands, much less the rest of their body. Although the wind was brutal and cold, neither complained much about it as it had been too long since the pair spent time together.

The teenager was incredibly thankful that his dad had invited him on the trip. He saw it as an opportunity to rebuild the burnt bridge between them. His dad hadn't always been as present as Tomas would've liked, and Tomas was determined to remedy their strained bond. His early childhood had plenty of arguments and a few too many divorces for his liking. His dad was a bit of a loser when it came to it, but Tomas didn't mind much. His dad had always been supportive when it mattered, whether it was about his decision to stay with his mother after the divorce or Tomas being trans.

So, when his dad asked about Tomas joining him on the camping trip, he found the bonding opportunity he had been searching for for months. However, Tomas had expected more than just him and his dad to go on this trip; his dad seemed to imply a few different people would join them. It was a strange surprise to Tomas that they were the only two at the campsite. Tomas ignored how odd it was in favor of enjoying the trip together. What motivation would his dad have for tricking him? It had to be poor planning on his dad's behalf.

Despite this, Tomas eagerly waited for time alone to share exciting news with his dad. Tomas had recently found a boyfriend. It wasn't serious, but it was his first-ever boyfriend. There just hadn't been a good opportunity for Tomas to share this with his dad... until now. As they huddled together, Tomas found himself turning towards his dad. His dad rubbed his hands together before stretching them out towards the fire. It only took moments for his dad to realize Tomas was staring at him.

"Hey, what's up, kiddo?" he asked curiously. "Got something on your mind? Your face says you do."

Tomas blinked a few times in embarrassment before responding. "I do. I have something I want to tell you." Tomas started grinning. "I have a boyfriend now! Isn't that so exciting?"

Tomas was somewhat puzzled by his dad's reaction. His body language shifted quickly from excitement to discomfort and then to anger. Tomas felt unsure of what to make of it until his dad responded.

"You have... a boyfriend? Does he know about this camping trip?" his dad asked sternly. Tomas tried to shrug off the weirdly angry tone.

"I mean, yeah. Is there something wrong with that?" Tomas challenged. He couldn't fathom why his dad would be angry at him for such an exciting new experience. It was customary for any young teenager to have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Tomas felt his chest puff out in near defiance.

Tomas felt his dad stare at him with an intensity he couldn't quite figure out.  Their breath formed icy clouds before them, and the silence became long and drawn out. Tomas began to squirm in his seat, and the sound of firewood cracking broke the silence.

"You have to break up with him," his dad said in a low tone. "I am not asking you either; I am telling you."

Tomas was confused, hurt, and irritated. Tomas finally let go of the breath he had been holding in his chest. "No," he said as confidently as possible, though he was incredibly nervous. "I don't want to do that." His dad's lips pulled tight, and Tomas prepared for what he might say. "What's so wrong with me having a boyfriend anyway? You didn't answer my question," Tomas once again challenged despite his shaky voice. "Plus, Mom already said it was okay."

Tomas immediately realized his mistake after seeing his dad's clenched fists and wrinkled face. His dad let out a deep breath, allowing the icy cloud to conceal his face momentarily. He was eerily quiet, and Tomas knew something was now profoundly wrong. Tomas wasn't sure if his refusal to break up with his boyfriend or mentioning his mom was his mistake; maybe it was both things he said.

Tomas felt afraid. This was unusual for him; he hadn't ever feared his dad before, and his dad had never given him a reason to fear him. They had many disagreements, but none made his dad look this angry.

"Since you want to act like a big, tough man who gets to make all these decisions for himself," his dad said while he stood up, "I'll treat you like a 'real' man."

His dad was quicker than Tomas could have ever expected. He didn't even have a chance to respond before his dad's cold fingers tangled in his hair. He yelped as his dad clenched his hair in tight fistfuls. Tomas was quickly pulled to his knees in the snow as his scalp was yanked on mercilessly.

Tomas wasn't sure what his dad meant by all of this. It scared him; his stomach churned, his knees tingled from the snow-covered ground, and his scalp burned as his dad tightened his fist in his hair. Finally, out of his state of shock, Tomas began to wail. Even when the hand entangled in his hair finally let go, he still found himself screaming in pain. Tomas suddenly felt light-headed and fell forward as his dad's fist made contact with the back of his head.

Tomas felt dizzy and nauseous as he fell face-first into the snow. He had expected it to be more like the movies, with cartoon stars and halos. Except it wasn't like the movies; his head throbbed, and he felt a newfound pain throughout the back of his head. Tomas craned his neck just enough to look ahead, but his vision was too blurred to understand where he had fallen. His dad must've hit him pretty hard. What could he have done to possibly deserve this?

Tomas had been so excited to share his new relationship with his dad. He had initially expected to be met with excitement, kindness, and anticipation to meet his boyfriend. Tomas couldn't wrap his head around his dad's almost jealous-like anger. It just didn't make sense: he was his dad; why would he be jealous? His stomach sank, and his head swam with endless horrific possibilities. Tomas didn't have long to think about the implications before his dad quickly delivered a kick to his side.

Everything happened so fast. Tomas was overwhelmed as his dad kicked his side again. It took Tomas a few moments to process what to do. He could only think of shrieking, wrapping his arms around his head, and pulling his knees to his chest. He frantically pulled back as his dad dropped beside him and pulled his arm back to punch him again.

Tomas grabbed his dad's wrist and did precisely what he wanted. The punch was pulled to the side, to the air beside Tomas' head, but the act had taken a lot of effort. He felt his grip loosen, and his arms started to shake violently as he tried to redirect another punch. He wasn't strong enough to prevent this one from hitting his face. It first aimed at his nose but only hit him in the cheek. Tomas, heavily breathing, shouted something incoherent. In a panicked frenzy, he put his hands out and grabbed his dad's face. 

Tomas' dad grabbed his wrists and quickly flipped him onto his stomach with his son's hands held above his head. "Stop squirming," his dad shouted at him. "If you don't stop fucking squirming-- I put you on this earth; I can take you out of it."

Tomas felt his heart stop beating for just a moment. He hadn't noticed the cold, wet tears and snot running down his face. He felt nothing except for pain and the freezing cold as it fell. From how he was pinned, he could hardly turn enough to see his dad anymore.

Tomas had been expecting more punches and punishment for his unknown crime. He hadn't expected to feel something warm press against his back, almost like it was being ground against him. Tomas began squirming again, struggling to look behind him as he tried to free himself.

"Dad," he whined desperately, "What are you doing? Please." Tomas could hardly get the words out between panting and crying.

"Please stop whatever you're doing," Tomas cried out. "I'm sorry, Dad. Just please stop."

Tomas felt himself shiver as his dad let go of his wrists and placed a warm hand on his neck. The warmth would have been welcome under any other circumstances. He felt fingers hook themselves under the waistband of his pants. Tomas began wriggling and kicking, only for the hand on the back of his neck to pick him up and then shove his face into the ground hard. Tomas felt bits of dirt and snow rub against his face, some finding their way up his nose and into his eyes.

His eyes stung as he felt the hand begin pulling down his pants. It was difficult even for his dad to keep him restrained as he fought. It took at least 10 minutes for him to wrestle the pants off of Tomas. Tomas had begun grossly crying and begging with his dad.

"Dad, fuck, please stop. This is so fucking wrong and gross. Please," Tomas managed to get out between sobs. "This is sexual assault and ince--"

"Shut the fuck up," his dad barked, "You're going to enjoy this. You don't even know what those words mean at this age!"

Tomas shivered violently from the snow as his naked lower torso was pressed into the ground. It had become abundantly clear what was happening to him. All Tomas could think about was what he had done to deserve being raped by his own dad, how clueless to this side of him he had been, and how fucking cold he was.

He felt his dad's hands begin violating his exposed body. It started with him rubbing the back of his calves, then moving up to rub his thighs, and eventually squeezing his ass. Tomas felt so embarrassed and ashamed, and he felt another overwhelming wave of emotions as he noticed his extremely small cock twitch in response to each and every touch. He couldn't help but react to how his dad was touching him. It was hungry, aggressive, and eager. It was so unlike the loserly yet gentle dad he had known all his life.

Tomas felt his dad's hard cock straining through his jeans beside him. It was the only warmth he could feel, pulsating on his leg, other than his dad's hand wrapped around his neck. He hated admitting he clung to that little warmth; the cold was excruciating. His face and legs stung from it, and the warm hands were the only thing he could think of besides his twitching, leaky cock.

His dad swung himself over Tomas's legs, straddling him as he continued to squeeze his ass. His hand pushed down on Tomas's neck harder, and he started sputtering. His dad couldn't care less as his cock throbbed against his son's ass. Tomas could only think to beg at this point.

"Dad, Daddy. Please. You aren't usually like this; what did I do wrong?" Tomas whimpered as his dad squeezed his ass in response.

His dad leaned down, pushing his bulge further into Tomas' perky, red ass, rubbing it between his cheeks. It was uncomfortable but sent waves of arousal through his tiny cock. As his dad lined Tomas's ear up with his lips, the warm heat of his heavy breathing caused Tomas to shiver. As he shivered, it pushed his dad's cock further between his ass.

"You think you're grown up enough for a boyfriend?" his dad panted into his ear. "This is what your little boyfriend wants. I want this and will not let anyone else take this from me."

Tomas felt his dad lean up, and both the hand on his neck and his ass were lifted. Tomas felt too weak to struggle like he did before. He stayed sprawled across the snowy ground with his dad, keeping all his weight on his legs. Tomas heard a belt unbuckle and the unzipping of his dad's pants. He felt terror and arousal at the same time. Would this be his first time? What would he tell his boyfriend?

Suddenly, all the weight on his legs lifted as his dad stood to step out of his pants. Tomas attempted to pull himself to his knees and crawl away. A foot quickly came down on his back, shoving him face-first into the ground. Tomas cried out as the foot pressed hard, sending shooting pain through him. He heard something hit the ground before the foot was lifted. And suddenly, he felt hands wrapped into his hair as his head was pulled back.

His dad's other hand pulled Tomas's jaw unwillingly open. Once his mouth was open, he gagged as something was shoved inside haphazardly before his head was pushed into the ground. Tomas felt dizzy from the impact and the new smells that filled his nose. The scent was arousing, musky, and sweaty. It smelt like nature and the boy's locker room simultaneously.

Tomas felt his dad reach between his legs and gently run his finger across his cunt. He shuddered as his slick coated both his own thighs and his dad's fingers. He heard his dad groaning quietly as he continued to run his finger up and down his slit. His dad occasionally tried to reach even further, with some struggle, to roughly fondle Tomas's cock. Tomas moaned through the pair of underwear in his mouth. His cock twitched, and he began unintentionally thrusting into his dad's hand.

This only encouraged his dad further once he felt Tomas thrusting into his hand.

His dad put Tomas's cock between his pointer finger and thumb and began stroking as best he could from this position. The dad-son duo rocked in the snow as Tomas thrust and his dad stroked. Tomas felt disgusted with himself but couldn't help but whimper and whine as his little, sensitive cock was jacked off. Each whimper and moan caused him to inhale more of his dad's musk, which made him feel light-headed again. His dad let go of his dick, allowing him some momentary relief from the stimulation before he leaned in close to Tomas's ear once again.

"I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this, alright, kiddo?" his dad almost growled, making Tomas shiver at the threat. All the while, his cock throbbed, betraying his arousal.

"I'm being serious. If you tell anyone, even your little boyfriend, I'll slit your fucking throat." His dad gently licked up his ear. "They'll never find your body."

Tomas whimpered, which only caused his dad to moan deeply. His dad sat on his knees, both hands on his hairy thighs, before standing up. He leaned down, grabbed Tomas's hips, and quickly pulled him to his knees. He delivered a weak slap to Tomas' ass before he slipped behind him. First, it was his dad's lips on his cunt, and then he had something wet and soft slide between his cunt's lips.

"Oh god, Tomas, you don't know how badly I have wanted a taste," He breathed against his cunt. "Your little boy cock and cunny taste so fucking good. Better than I could have ever imagined."

Tomas had tears running, warming his face as his knees dug into the ground. He tried to tell himself that it didn't feel good, but oh god, it did. He knew he shouldn't grind against his dad's face, but it didn't matter what he did, did it? He kept grinding on his dad's eager tongue, feeling a building pressure in his groin. Tomas panted into the underwear like a bitch in heat as his wolfish dad continued to lap at his cunt.

His dad made sure no part of his cock or cunny was neglected. Tomas pushed back onto his dad's tongue as he felt the pressure building. His dad grabbed his hips, forcing him even further on his outstretched tongue. Soon enough, he began shaking as his dad moved his tongue into his cunt. It was so warm and soft; Tomas hadn't ever felt like this. It made warmth pool in his groin as his dad continued to flick his tongue inside him.

"Dad, Dad, Daddy," Tomas spat the underwear out and shrieked, "I can't take it anymore!"

At these words, his dad began aggressively lapping up his cunt. Tomas was overwhelmed as if he were being devoured whole. Soon enough, Tomas screamed as his vision blurred and his body spasmed. His dad's grip on his hips tightened, and he made sure his tongue stayed in place as Tomas squirmed. His dad made sure that everything about Tomas's first orgasm was his. Tomas continued to shake as his orgasm subsided, and the cold burned through his body.

Tomas was initially relieved, thinking that whatever he had done must've made amends by now. He had taken things surprisingly well, hadn't he? He turned to look at his dad, only to be pushed onto his back. Tomas was quickly gagged on his dad's cock. It only took a few moments for his dad's cock to slide down his throat. His dad promptly pinched Tomas's nose and held his head firmly in place.

Tomas began to panic as he could no longer breathe; gagging relentlessly, he could only take the cock down his throat. He started clawing at his dad's thighs as his dad slowly pulled his cock back. Tomas only managed to suck in some air once or twice before the cock slammed deep. Tomas gagged, and his stomach churned, but his dad didn't care. He continued pounding his little boy's mouth, panting like a dog the entire time.

"You ready, kiddo? You've lubed me all up," he taunted as Tomas gagged. "You look so cute choking on your Daddy's cock."

(VOMIT SCENE BEGINS)

He held Tomas in place for a few more moments before pulling his cock out of his mouth entirely right before Tomas could vomit. Tomas was coughing, throwing up, and gagging. As he fell to his knees, his dad gently jerked his cock to the sight of his teen son gasping for air with vomit dribbling down his lips. Tomas continued to cough as his dad kicked him, and he splayed out on the ground pathetically. His dad was on top of him and prepared to take his virginity. Tomas weakly tried to kick his dad off but was only met with laughter as his dad's puffy cock head teased his hole.

(VOMIT SCENE ENDS)

"Now, this might hurt, buddy," he mumbled, still laughing at Tomas, "but you'll make Daddy feel so good with your little boy cunny."

He pushed his head into Tomas's warm slit. His dad was panting, snarling, and keeping him in place with a tight grip on his hips. Tomas was overstimulated and tried to wriggle his way out of his dad's grip, but he was immediately reminded of the consequences of trying to escape his dad. The cock was deep inside him, and his own cock twitched responsively in the dirt. His dad was rutting into him, and Tomas was dizzy. If he hadn't already been laid out on the ground, he would've collapsed.

His face was pushed into the dirt with each desperate thrust from his dad. Tomas could only cry quietly as his hole was violated, and the thought made his small cock throb. He was unsure how his dad had this much stamina at his age. As his dad grunted more often, Tomas was anxious, waiting for it all to end. His tight and aching cunt could only take so much.

His dad breathed heavily as he pulled out. Tomas knew better than to try to escape as they sat there. Tomas stayed on the ground, unsure when would be a good time to get up, when suddenly his dad's slick cock lined up with his ass. Tomas tensed up and began pleading with his dad.

"Dad, haven't you done enough? Please don't; it will hurt me," Tomas blubbered. "I don't want any more of this." 

Tomas's pleas fell on deaf ears. His dad, with a little bit of spit, began greedily pushing his wide cock into his virgin ass. It stretched to fit with enough force, and tears poured down Tomas's face. It hurt so, so much as his dad filled his hole. His dad's head was in, and Tomas never felt so violated– but it put so much pressure on the right places that he began shuddering. Their breathing was animalistic as they pushed against one another in pain and pleasure. 

"This little boy hole was made for his daddy. Daddy'll fill you up, and no one will ever know now. Fuck, Tomas, Daddy's sorry he had to rape your holes. I just…"

Tomas screamed as more was forced deeper inside of him. His stomach began to cramp.

"I couldn't help myself anymore. Your little boyfriend can't have your holes before me."

Tomas babbled and sobbed as his dad pushed his cock entirely inside of him. His dad hadn't given him nearly enough time to adjust to his thick cock. Tomas's own cock was twitching painfully, and he felt that familiar warmth in his groin. He began bucking his hips as his dad started thrusting ferally into his hole. His dad spread his ass as he sped up with each thrust. Tomas shook from exhaustion and overstimulation as the pressure threatened to blow over. 

"Dad," he whimpered, "I think I'm going--"

"Good boy, cum on your dad's big cock. You're a fucking freak for cumming on your dad's cock." Tomas felt himself leak, and the pressure released as his dad degraded him. "Yeah, cum on it just like that, you little pervert."

Tomas's vision was too blurry to make out anything, and all he could hear were the sounds of his growling dad as he brutalized his ass. Eventually, his dad began to cry out as he buried himself as deep as possible into Tomas. He could feel every single twitch of his dad's cock inside of him in his overstimulated state. His dad spent a few minutes with his still-hard cock deep in Tomas's ass. Tomas didn't dare protest. 

His dad pulled his slick cock out and patted his son on the ass. Tomas didn't move, as everything felt unreal even after it seemed all would be over. He allowed himself to lay still in the dirt and snow until his dad scooped him into his arms. They slipped into the nearby tent, and his dad gently laid him in his sleeping bag. His dad started to gently pet Tomas's face as they lay together. Even when it was over, Tomas still felt his dad's hands eagerly exploring his body when his dad thought he had fallen asleep. He felt trapped but couldn't help but feel warmth pooling into his groin whenever his dad played with his sensitive cock. 

Tomas wasn't sure how long he had gotten sleep for. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was his dad's fingers stroking his hard cock. When he woke up, his dad was asleep with his cock buried deep in Tomas's cunt. He felt incredibly uneasy but didn't make any effort to move off of his dad's cock. Sometimes, in his sleepy stupor, he would grind on his dad's semi-hard cock and try to touch himself until he could cum. At this point, Tomas thought he might as well try and feel good in such a shitty situation. He preferred it when his dad was asleep anyway. 

Once the sun had risen, his dad stirred and pulled his flaccid, leaky cock out of Tomas's cunt. As his dad pulled out, Tomas woke up and stretched. Then, the two tried to continue on as though nothing had happened. The dad-son duo began cleaning up their campsite. It was awkward as Tomas ached, but neither standing nor sitting helped relieve the pain. As they got close to an entirely clean campsite, his dad pulled him aside and gave him a firm talk while tending to his wounds.

"What do we tell anyone if they ask you about this camping trip, Tomas?" his dad asked. 

"It was a fun trip, and we had plenty of time for dad-son bonding," Tomas muttered. 

"Good boy," his dad almost whispered, gently patting his cheek. "We had plenty of time for dad-son bonding and lots more to come."

[allzelemonz]

Wrong Color: Bruce Wayne X Clark Kent

Summertime Prompt: Day 5, "Doppelgangers/Evil Twins" Pairing Type: M/M Rating: E/Sex, violence, dead dove Warnings: Doppelgangers, rape/noncon, dead dove, painful sex, bloody sex, alien anatomy, anal sex, mention of character death, mention of necrophilia, mention of breeding, Background Relationships: Dick Grayson/Superboys, Jason Todd/Bizzaro, Tim Drake/Conner Kent, Damian Wayne/Jon Kent Summary: A peaceful night in Gotham is interrupted by imposters from another Earth. Each is strikingly similar to their Super counterparts, but everything is the wrong color. The Bats are attacked by evil and twisted versions of their partners with no mercy or remorse.

It’s a quiet night in Gotham for once. The patrols are handled by Stephanie, Cass, and Duke. Barbara is on coms from her couch, favoring it over the usual Oracle set up for lax patrols like this. Bruce is kind of relaxed for once. Alfred convinced him to get the boys together for a movie and aside from the occasional bickering, it’s going well. Jason’s fallen asleep, his head tilted back over the sofa and soft snores escaping him. Dick is stretched out over a couch, pillows and blankets cuddled to his chest like he’s little Robin again. Tim is clutching a cup of coffee with his legs kicked over the arm of his chair. Damian is laid out on a floor pallet as he shines a batarang and listens to the movie passively. And Bruce, he couldn't be more content. Maybe a night off to hang out with his kids every couple of weeks isn’t such a bad idea.

Then there’s something on his chest, that’s what he notices first. The heavy pressure like a brick hitting him square on. Then it’s the wind as it surrounds him and makes him shiver. In a blink, the den is gone and he’s face to face with Clark. They’re outside, it’s cold without a sweater, and Clark’s eyes aren’t blue.

“Clark?” Bruce says, breathy from being shoved and flown away. His hand reaches up to touch Clark’s face, but he’s stopped by a vice grip that would break his wrist if not for the watch on it taking most of the pressure. He winces. “Baby, what’s going on?”

Clark’s eyes flick over Bruce’s body and they are very much not right. Clark’s eyes are a perfect blue, a blue Bruce made sure to have his ties made in. Bruce knows his partner’s eyes like he knows the streets of Gotham or the compartments of his utility belt, these are not Clark’s eyes. They’re gray. Gray and harsh, wholly not a farm boy’s.

“Baby?” Clark mutters, smirking. “How did a subpar man like you get yourself into the bed of a Kryptonian?”

Bruce knows he has Kryptonite fixed under his watch. Dick called him paranoid for it, but when he started dating Clark he knew he didn’t want to take any chances. He trusts Clark, he loves Clark, but things happen. Things like this.

“Who are you?” Bruce asks evenly, his mind figuring a way to get the lead compartment open.

Clark clicks his tongue, his eyes now meeting Bruce’s. “Kal-El, of course. A much better version of your pathetic Clark.”

“What makes you better?”

The imposter has lines when he smiles where Clark would have dimples. “My planet lives.”

“You’re from another Earth.”

“Smart little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckles. “I can see why he finds you entertaining.”

“Father.”

The men look over to find a young man that looks quite like Jon, but Bruce knows it’s not. In the boy’s hand is Damina’s jacket collar, Damian on his knees and unconscious. For one, if Jon did ever hurt Damian he would be cradling him and holding back tears. And, again, the most obvious thing is the eyes. Jon, bright and happy all throughout his little years with dazzling blue eyes just like his fathers that would rival Ace’s pouting talents. This boy has those lifeless gray eyes.

“What?” Clark snaps, finally releasing Bruce’s wrist.

Bruce steps back, not reaching for the Kryptonite right away. It would be expected and he doesn’t have nearly enough to subdue two Kryptonians. He needs to wait for Jon to leave, take care of Clark, and slip away to the cave for his larger stash.

“We’ve found the information you requested.”

“Go on.” Clark crosses his arms and Bruce finds it much less endearing than when his Clark does it.

Jon tosses Damian to the ground and it makes Bruce wince, every inch of his instincts wanting to go to his son and make sure he’s okay. But he stays still, watching his opponents carefully and letting the Batman part of his brain work.

“Our counterparts seem to be in relationships with each member of this human family respectfully.” Jon gestured to the unconscious Damian. “I apparently with this pathetic child, Kon with scrawny one, B with the meathead, and you with… that.” He gestures vaguely to Bruce.

Clark tilts his head. “They have an additional, I saw.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Apparently Richard Grayson still breathes here.”

“Interesting.” Clark smiles. “Why don’t you boys let out some steam? These inferiors must be able to handle our counterparts, so they should have no problem accommodating us.”

Jon smiles in a way that would make the Joker shiver and Bruce, for the first time, has a flicker of fear from the boy. “Thank you, father.”

Clark nods, waving him off. “Ah, and make sure to use Grayson. He was good on our Earth, I imagine he’s just as good here.”

With a sickly grin, Jon grips Damian’s collar and flies off. Bruce watches Clark carefully, waiting for the signs of beginning superspeed as he slowly unlocks the compartment in his watch. As Clark turns, Bruce holds up the Kryptonite.

“Oh, baby.” Clark mocks. “Wrong color.”

Bruce can hardly blink before Clark is on him. No, not just on him, Clark is in him. In a heartbeat, the imposter has Bruce on the ground with his clothes ripped from his body and his substantial Kryptonian dick shoved so deep into Bruce that it pulses against his heart. Of course Bruce has taken Clark fully before, he’s felt the massive length  stretched open his ass and reaching all the way to his throat. But Clark always prepares him, always makes sure Bruce has taken the durability medicine just in case, always fingers him open and kisses him a million times with adorably sweet words and those beautiful eyes. Having his entire digestive system fucked and fixed tightly around Clark’s dick has always been pleasurable, never like this.

He’s never hurt Bruce.

“I can see why he likes you.” The false Clark mutters in Bruce’s ear. “You take it like a good bitch.”

Bruce tries to think about the last time he heard Clark use that word. Never. Clark has never said that word as far as Bruce knows.

“I just want to make sure you know.” Clark mutters, his lips brushing against Bruce’s ear. “My boys are doing the same thing to your boys.”

Bruce winces, a growl ripping through his throat despite himself. Again, he knows it’s not new. He knows his boys are active with their respective partners, hell he just had the talk with Damian. But he also knows that the Kents are good kids, even Bizzaro is a gentle giant. He knows his boys are treated right. But with these Kents, Bruce wants to claw his way out of this and save them.

Clark starts to move then. His hips piston right away, fully splitting Bruce in half as he rocks in and out. “You know, Richard Grayson is dead on my Earth.” Clark grips Bruce’s hips and Bruce lets his head drop to the ground. “Do you want to know how he died?”

If Bruce was an idiot, he’d answer. But he knows better. He’s been taunted before, he knows that playing any additional part of this sick fantasy is the worst thing to do. Instead he just tries to focus on anything but the feeling of that hard steel dick plunging into his body and the blood it draws out.

“See…” Clark groans, changing his angle and successfully fucking up into Bruce’s throat. “My son thought he was pretty. And I thought he was pretty. It didn’t take much time until the whole family wanted to fuck that perfect ass of his. Poor little bird’s heart gave out.” He snickers. “We still fucked him of course.”

Bruce has never felt more rage than he has in this moment, but the mix of choking on the giant dick in his throat and his own blood takes all of his focus. His intestines are stretched out, his organs rearranged, normally a pleasant feeling with Clark and the medication to help, but right now Bruce didn’t even feel this much pain when Bane broke his back.

Clark’s lips press to his neck, his thrusts becoming shallow and fast. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my seed stays in you for days, Bruce.” He licks a stripe up to his ear. “You know, on my Earth Kryptonians conquered everything. We fuck as we please and men like you get bitched early on. I could take you back, make you mine and make you give me a million kids.”

“Fuck… you…” Bruce chokes out, his heart starting to skip in an alarming way.

Clark chuckles in his ear. “Maybe if you get too loose, but just for a little break.”

Bruce squeezes his eyes shut, feeling his body starting to give out. He hopes the boys don’t feel this bad, maybe they die quicker, maybe they escaped. Then, in a split second, Bruce feels empty. He can breathe again and everything hurts so intensely. He can’t get his senses to work, his eyes are blurry and his ears pound so loudly it’s like he’s back in the Penguin’s overpopulated zoo.

“Bruce?” Clark, his mind supplies. Soft and worried and the cutest amount of south-midwest Kansas twang. Clark’s hands are gentle as he picks Bruce off the ground, cradling his body and kissing his head. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so, so sorry.”

Bruce blinks his eyes open and steady enough to see that blue. That perfect blue looking down at him with tears everywhere. He wants to say something, but Clark’s name dies in his throat.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Clark soothes through his tears. “Zatanna’s coming, she’ll heal you, you’re gonna be okay.”

Bruce takes ragged breaths, a little smile coming onto his face. He knows Clark’s saying that to convince himself more than Bruce. He also knows that if anyone can fix this, it’s Zatanna. Anything is better than the Lazarus Pit.

Clark holds Bruce as he slips into sleep just before Zatanna arrives. With a teary-eyed but focused Clark, she heals Bruce first. Her incantations put halos over him and Clark almost sobs as he watches with his x-ray vision as Bruce’s intestines realign. Diana arrives purely to hold his hand, the only one he might not crush with his emotions like this. She tells him that the doppelgangers have been subdued and that other healers are working with Bruce’s boys. When Zatanna leaves the three of them just sit there for a while, Bruce asleep but healthy and Clark and Diana simply watching him.

“I almost lost him.” Clark mutters after a while, his hand brushing over Bruce’s hair. “I didn’t get here soon enough.”

“They caught us by surprise, ambushed the strongest first.” Diana says softly.

“Why him?” Clark sobs. “What makes them the strongest?”

Diana presses her lips into a line, remembering why Bruce is the one she would consider the most dangerous. “Bruce is Bruce.” She looks down at her friend. “Not only has he trained his children to be vigilant, he is one of the most prepared people I have ever seen. He could take the world if he had the motivation and time.”

Clark smiles softly. “I love him.”

“I know.” Diana says. “I love him too, you’re my dearest friends… I’ll ensure the men that attacked our family see justice.”

Clark sighs. “How… how could I ever be that man?”

“You’re not. That isn’t a man, it’s a monster.” Diana says firmly. She rests a hand over Clark’s on Bruce’s chest and dips her head to meet his eyes. “You should take him to his room. Check on the boys.”

Clark nods softly, his voice breaking. “Okay.”

Diana flies off to join the Green Lanterns who guard the doppelgangers and Clark, as gentle as he ever has been, carries Bruce into the manor. He passes Raven, still healing Dick as he lays sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. Then Jason who is cuddled into Bizzaro’s chest like his life depends on staying there. Then Tim, passed out in his room down the hall with Conner pacing at his bedside. And finally Damian, held by Jon in the corner of the study where no one but Clark’s powered eyes could see.

Clark tries to put on a brave face for the trusted members of the League that fill the halls. Only the Kents and the inner council know what really happened, most have just been told it was just an attack. In Bruce’s room, Clark lays his partner down as carefully as he would a baby bat. When he stands, straightening his back and looking down at Bruce’s perfect face, he sobs again. He wants to make everything okay, he wants to go back and fix it. He has half a mind to find Barry and make him do just that, but he knows messing with time would only make things worse. So he settles for sitting beside Bruce’s bed and watching every last detail of his face as he sleeps.

[embrifyr]

as athanasia grows, she notices that claude always looks at her.... in a strange manner. for example, when athanasia is wearing a dress that exposes a bit of her neck from either the back or front, because the heat in obelia is overwhelming to say the least, he keeps looking at it..... intensively. and athanasia decides to never attempt to dwell her mind on it for too long (her heart decides that for her, because she doesn't think she's ready for the realization, the utmost awareness of what those awkwardly long stares mean) until the night of her debutante. when he asks her to join her on his journey to his chambers. when he asks for diana, instead of his daughter, athanasia.

and athanasia wishes that she had died as a infant, that claude had killed her that day alongside the young and innocent concubines of the ruby palace. athanasia wishes she had drowned in the lake that claude kept the mana eating monsters and they managed to consume her before claude could grab ahold of her. and athanasia wishes that she had died the day she had spat blood, that claude would have never tried to save her.

[cocoafloodsthemetro]

Valangel fankids (left is Lucius, right is Cecilia)

BACKSTORY TIMEEEE

TW R@PE AND TRAUMA. Do not force yourself to read if these topics make you uncomfortable. Be kind to yourself.

...okay anyway Valentino r@ped Angel, without using protection, impregnating him. For the sake of this AU Angel's intersex now, Husk is trans, got this idea while scrolling on @dragon-spaghetti 's blog. So Angel doesn't find out for a while, but when he does, he freaks out. Has a mental breakdown and everything. Husk finds and comforts him. Anyway Angel doesn't wanna get an abortion cuz he had intercourse with Husk prior to the Valentino incident, and he doesn't wanna risk getting rid of what may or may not be Husk's child.

Fast forward.

Angel lives stressed out for the next nine months, eventually giving birth to twins Cecilia and Lucius (Lucia at that time, he's trans) and Husk helps name them. Here are the twins' younger designs.

At first glance, Angel knows they're Valentino's and not Husk's. Devastated, he has a meltdown—and can you blame him? He eventually gets PTSD from this. Husk comforts him again, even though he's also really stressed. Angel doesn't want them to grow up in an abusive environment like the Vees' Tower, so he keeps the twins a secret from Valentino. For a few months, they reside in the hotel under mostly Husk's care (Angel can barely stand even just looking at them, they're a really sensitive topic for him) but Valentino eventually finds out about his offspring's existence (Cuz Vox, who found out through technology at the hotel, told Val about them) so naturally Valentino takes advantage of his soul contract with Angel to force him to turn them in. Angel naturally has an instinct to protect them, because that's how parental instincts work. Anyway yeah so that's it for today. Valentino has Cecilia and Lucius now. Part two coming eventually if this gets enough notes I guess idk

No I am not a proshipper, I do not ship Valentino x Angel and I understand that it's abusive.

[arsenic-catnep]

omg that's what I had in mind with Haymitch 😩

I want him to rape me so bad he'd probably make you call him Daddy and slap you across the face when you act out because he is helping you survive the games after all

He'd force you to ride his cock until you're legs give out and then he'd use you like a little toy untill he's done

His cock gets so hard when he thinks about fucking his little girls so he had to fist his cock or use an avox until he gets a new tribute to start over with

Oh for sure, and no is ever going to believe them or care if they tell. He holds it over them, telling them he won't let them die a virgin.

He's obsessed with how tight they are, and how easy it is to hold them down and rape their cunts bloody. Pumping them full of his cum, not caring if they get pregnant. It's not like they'll live long anyway.

Every year Haymitch looks forward to the reaping because it means he gets free booze, a tight pussy to use for a few weeks

[hill-art02]

Unpopular opinion, but I don't mind that Asmodeus is against r@pe, like I know he's supposed to be the sin of lust, but he's also supposed to be a decent person and a healthy partner to Fizz. So it wouldn't make sense for him to be cool with something like r@pe. And let's be honest, if Viv did make Ozz a r@pist, then people would be complaining that she only did it to make Stolas look better or something. But that's just my opinion.

[theflikchic]

JKR really wrote "I am not transphobic! I don't fear trans people! I'm just absolutely terrified that every trans woman I see is a secretly an abusive man waiting to rape me at every turn!" Girl, I- I just- How did this woman ever manage to write a good, narratively coherent series when she can't even keep her damn tweets straight? Like, hot dog, was HP divine intervention because there ain't no way she had that skill and it just vanished like that. This is ludicrous.

[micoz-field-of-dreamz]

watchinng people simp for valentino is actually disturbing. do you guys not realize hes meant to be a r@p1st or did we just not watch the same show?

[loser-maxxing]

tw: (not in-depth) discussion of actual incestous rape below

writing smut and i am worried it is too realistic about the fear and dread of being raped by your dad.

like, i am going based off of what i find hot and my own very real and traumatizing experiences with my dad..

and i am incredibly worried it would be too realistic for people to enjoy it.. it is really dark, in my humble onion (opinion).

would anyone be interested in seeing a snippet posted to my blog to gauge interest and to see if it truly is too dark ..?

[csaventing]

"boys don't get raped!" shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP

.

[allzelemonz]

Rebound: Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 15, Noncon/Rape Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’ and holds a generally masculine mindset given the circumstances Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Rape, grief, drinking, mentions of Annabelle’s death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hints of victim blaming because Dutch is an ass, threats, semi-public sex, hand jobs, anal fingering, anal sex, marking, neck kissing, slight cum fixation, vomiting, crying, Dutch is such a bad person in this one dude, shifting perspective Summary: After losing someone he loves, Dutch drinks to forget and gets an idea in his drunken mind when he spots a man he likes the look of.

The drinks make his head fuzzy. Dutch has long sent Hosea back to camp, wanting nothing more than to drink by himself until the sun comes up. All he could see was her lying dead on the grass, dignity nowhere left. For a while all he could do was hold her, then all he wanted was kill Colm for doing this. But the drinks help. The drinks let him think of other things. Anything but her.

And that’s why his eyes wander to a man he sees on the street when he stumbles out of the saloon.

The bartender had kicked him out for some reason, he doesn’t remember why. But it doesn’t matter now. He doesn’t need drinks when he can have someone like that. Someone to fuck hard between the buildings of the sickening little town to take his mind off of…

So he follows the man, his head still fogged and his steps uneasy, but he lumbers along well enough to turn the corner just a few feet behind the man. A sober Dutch wouldn’t admit that he may have done this before, a drunk Dutch almost craves it. And even with such an unkempt head, Dutch knows a man doesn’t expect this to happen and that’s what makes it easy. As they walk, the other man pays him no mind, likely writing him off as just another drunk. Dutch only just has the sense not to chuckle to himself.

Doesn’t even have a gun on ‘em.

Before the man can get to the end of the alley, Dutch gets his wrist and pulls him back harshly. Even drunk, Dutch is a relatively graceful man, able to shove the other man against the wall before he’s even registered what’s happened. He exclaims, struggling against Dutch’s grip and body now pressed against him, but he stills when Dutch presses his gun into the man’s ribs.

“Best not ta move…” Dutch mutters, his voice with hardly any sense of soberness.

“Mister-”

Dutch twists the man’s arm behind his back, pulling enough to bring pain to the shoulder. The man gets the message, only whimpering a bit from the pain

And it hurts. Fuck, does it hurt. Maybe it’s the hard wood you’re pressed against, maybe it’s the gun barrel pressed into your skin, or maybe it’s the clear feeling of your assailant’s dick rubbing into your ass. Everything makes you feel small and helpless, the shock hardly helps. Getting robbed, you might expect that, but a man pinning you to a wall and…

The gun withdraws, his hand returning to fumble at your pants.

Your breath hitches and fear takes over your mind. This… this isn’t supposed to happen. Not-

“It’ll be over before ya know it, my dear.”

His voice makes you shiver, his breath hot against your neck, and a second later you almost feel the need to scream as his fingers wrap around your dick.

He’ll kill you. He’ll bring that gun back out and shoot you if you scream, maybe if you just fight. All of this is too much, you can’t think…

To your horror, your dick hardens in calloused hands, the feeling overriding the situation. The man lets your arm go in favor of using the hand to shove your pants down. The cool air feels terrible against your thighs and your body feels like it’s betraying you with the desire your hips seem to have in thrusting into the man’s hand.

A yelp escapes when you feel his fingers shove their way inside. His fingers are big, slicked lightly with something wet, and it makes you feel like puking. The movements are fast, desperate in the attempt to stretch your hole open. At least he decided to do it rather than just forcing his…you rest your head against the wall in front of you, not wanting to think about the man’s hands, let alone his dick.

But Dutch has never been more transfixed.

The man’s dick is heavy in his hand, hardened and wetted with beads of precum. His hole is so tight and warm, but Dutch works it open with so much ease it’s like his fingers were meant to fuck his man. God, what might this feel like around his dick. The man shivers beneath him, looking smaller than he did, like the actions are making him shrink. And Dutch loves it.

He retracts his fingers to pull himself from his pants, unable to wait much longer. His motions are stumbling as he endeavors to keep pumping the other man’s dick and making sure he’s solidly against the wall. But he gets himself lined up and the feeling when he pushes inside nearly sobers him. It’s so tight, so damn hot, and the man’s efforts to keep quiet run straight to his ears in the form of little whimpers and stifled sobs. So Dutch fucks him as hard as he can, his mind far from all of his trouble as ecstasy and liquor swim through it. The man trembles under Dutch, releasing over Dutch’s furiously pumping hand and whining as Dutch keeps using him. Both hands on the man’s hips now, Dutch presses him flush with the wall and fucks to the whiskey’s content.

And the pleasure that hits him is more than any he’s ever felt. He buries himself into the man, filling him with his release as he bites into the man’s neck to leave marks in his skin. The man breathes heavily, shaking under Dutch’s touch as the bite turns to kisses and Dutch milks himself for every drop as he relishes in the tight heat of the other man. He almost doesn’t want to let him go but he doesn’t have the clear mind to use his silver tongue and charm. Sweet talk and manipulation won’t work now, so he pulls out and tucks himself away.

He only lingers for a moment, looking at the man as he shakes against the wall, seemingly too scared to move. Dutch’s eyes trail down his body to the trickles of cum leaking out and down his legs. Mesmerized, Dutch steps forwards, trails his fingers over the streaks all the way up, and pushes it back inside the man’s hole. The whimper that follows would threaten to make Dutch hard again if not for the liquor stifling him. He fingers the fucked out hole for a while, pushing his cum back inside until he gets bored of it.

Then he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the man’s cheek, and walks away.

You stand still for a while, feeling sick and dizzy and broken. Your hands shake when you reach down for your pants, but before you can fasten them, The feeling of bending over sends shocks to your head and nausea swims. You throw up over the wall. It mixes with the splatter of your cum and you can’t keep your legs steady, falling back on your sore ass in the dirt. You heave for a few breaths, trying to catch up, tears working their way from your eyes in the process.

It’s a long time before you can wiggle your pants up, even longer before you can make yourself stand on shaky legs.

That man… you shiver at the thought.

That man. Dutch smiles.

[forthelpveofgod]

Tw// Talks about r@pe, ince$t and p^dophilia

Dear, call out accounts

I'm sorry, but wtf are yall doing. In the past few days, there have been atleast SEVEN call out posts about dubcon/noncon accounts in the hsr and genshin fandom. Let me start by saying I don't make nor do I consume those posts.

It's one thing to not feel comfortable about dark content and it's another to HARASS people who make said content. Who tf do you think you are to tell people to "kys" and all sorts of derogatory comments. The moment you started bringing that kind of language and going into their accounts to send death threats, you lost all and every credibility to your moral high ground. You are no better than the people you are "calling out".

There's also the issue of yall not tagging your shit properly and talking about very sensitive topics with ZERO trigger warnings and I see so many of yall saying "well the poster didn't put tws either". Do you hear yourself??? I thought yall were supposedly above them??

Another issue with the lack of tagging or tws is that you're unconsensually exposing people who had no idea these accounts existed to them. I frequent the jing yuan tag, never saw these, and the ones I did see all had tws included. Yall are exposing actual victims to discourse they would like to avoid.

Stop crossing tagging just to gain clout and then pretend you're doing it "to help irl children or people" bffr. And seven people don't need to make call-out posts repeating the same shit and tagging every fucking tag under the sun

And finally, bullying, harassment and sending de@th threats is NOT ok, you are fine to find dark content uncomfortable, I do too. But I don't fucking go out of my way to tell people to unalive and claim that I'm morally better. You are not.

I am so sick of yalls bs