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admirxation · 22 days

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An Imbalanced Deal

trainer!Jack Krauser x afab!trainee!reader

summary: Krauser can take you far, maybe even get you out into the real world faster than the rest, but you must do something in return for that large favour.

cw: this fic will contain dub-con with the power imbalance; please read the warnings and continue at your own discretion // dub-con, power imbalance, manipulation, thigh touching, thigh fucking, degrading, neck kisses, p in v, unprotected sex & creampie. (word count: 3.3k)

The training facility loomed with its austere walls and regimented atmosphere. You were walking towards Krauser's office as he wanted to discuss your progress. You were the newest recruit, alongside a man called Leon, but you didn't know much or even speak to him to know anything other than his name and that he was in a similar position as you. You were forced, against your will, due to some special encounters you had with Umbrella.

When you joined, you just kept to yourself, wanting to get this training over and done with, and it seemed to be working fine until now with this sudden meeting. Everyone knew how difficult Krauser was on the recruits, no, on every one; this was present in the nicknames he gave to people; you first noticed this with Leon being called "rookie" and further experienced this with him having no hesitation in telling people that they were pathetic, he always went straight for the jugular of people's insecurities. But he never did this to you.

It was different with you; if you made a stupid mistake, he would call you on it, but in a good and constructive criticism sort of way, something the other recruits noticed and developed a strong jealousy towards you. He didn't even give you nicknames; he just called you by your last name. Since then, everyone had isolated you with all the favouritism you had — like it was somehow your fault.

You continued to wait outside, hearing muffled footsteps through the door as you tried to straighten your posture and fix your clothes, gathering the courage to knock on the door as you waited for the clock to hit the exact time.

With a deep sigh, you knocked and awaited his call.

"Door's open," you heard his deep voice through the wooden door.

You entered slowly, pushing the door and stepping into a dimly lit office space. He was sitting in a seat close to the other, the one you would be sitting in by the looks of it, and you were surprised that it wasn't the conventional behind-the-desk setup like most office spaces had.

As you got closer to your seat, you noticed his gaze remained intense; you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you remained under his scrutinous stare. You felt your hands tremble while you placed them to the sides of your thighs, but this made an amusement within Krauser as he continued to watch your timid demeanour, smiling to himself when he noticed how you avoided eye contact with your eyes shifting everywhere in the room but only occasionally at him. He just took your nervous acts as an opportunity to steal more looks at you, trapped in thought as he looked you up and down.

You felt that you were almost trapped in this small and dark room, feeling small and vulnerable as you moved closer and sank into the chair next to him, fully aware of how small you were compared to him. For a moment, your thigh grazed against his, and you tried with all your effort to keep your legs together and away from him, your hands neatly placed in your lap, then moving to the sides as you nervously couldn't be able to decide how to make a normal body language.

The air felt heavy and tense, with the looks and unspoken words currently hanging between you two. However, before speaking, Krauser continued to study you. He watched as you looked at the floor, then the bookshelves, constantly at the clock, and he loved how shy you were with him. He knew you weren't confident, with your reserved nature and inability to make friends with the others, but seeing you nervous because of him felt like a little treat only he could indulge in.

"How have you been finding the training so far?" his words finally broke the silence.

His calm and careful speech was strange to you; you were used to the constant anger in his words, and you even heard from other people when you trespassed on their conversation with the casual eavesdrop that he was rude and arrogant. You had never experienced that yourself, and you thought maybe they were overreacting; but now you were starting to understand their disliking further than just the nicknames and insults, more than the description of rudeness or arrogance. You felt intimidated and out of control, and you hated that. You couldn't stop the nerves, getting worse as your palms continued to tremble and be dampened by the producing sweat.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking, feeling like your mouth suddenly went dry as you shifted in the stiff chair, acutely aware, now, of how he remained to give you intense gazes as he awaited your answer: "It's been... challenging, sir," you managed to reply with your tone of voice being barely above a whisper, "But I am learning a lot and c-continuing to try my best," you couldn't help but stammer in your speech.

He nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to subjugate you with a stare that lasted uncomfortable long: "I've noticed that dedication," you couldn't help but like the sound of his voice; it was low, smooth but with a hint of grovel in it, it was intriguing, "and your willingness to learn and improve is... impressive."

You let out a half-smile, wanting time to hurry up and stop you from being trapped in these walls. You kept checking the clock; of course, time felt like it was going as slow as possible. On top of that, to your shock, his compliment made a blush creep onto your cheeks, feeling the warmth spread despite the cold chill in the room. That warm sensation was unwelcome; you even felt stupid for blushing at a superior's comments, especially when you have never been interested in him. But while you were questioning and mentally reprimanding yourself for that blush, his seat moved closer to yours, and his leg now slightly touched your side.

"In this line of work, seeing someone with actual potential is refreshing."

Your heart began to race as you noticed the proximity of your bodies; you could hear and feel that pulsating pounding in your ears, complete with the warmth you felt from your heart continuously pounding, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You tried to ignore it, but your body wouldn't comply with what your mind tried to dictate. You could decipher the looks he provided; these were ones of longing, but there was also lust in those looks as he examined and continued to have you in the focal point in his peripheral vision.

You were the target of all his desires. You sensed where this meeting was going, as it unravelled before you.

"Is that all you wanted to say, sir? I hate to cut it short, but I must get going; I have training,” your voice had a high-pitched tinge as you tried to make up some excuse and escape the situation. But you were just met with Krauser leaning back in his chair and playing a faint smirk at the corner of his lips. That smirk taunted you, and his facial expression said, 'I do not believe you.'

"Oh, are you now? With who?"

"Um, Kennedy... Yes, he and I want to train together today," you were hurriedly trying to get the words out, praying to yourself that the excuse would be believed, but you could just tell you were going to be dealt a bad hand.

Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned forward, reaching his hand out and brushing his fingers against your thigh. You froze, and your mind continued to race as you tried to process and understand all this. You experienced a jitter through your body as you felt those soft grazes.

"Don't lie to me," fuck.

"I-"

"You... are lying. There's no scheduled time with your name, and you've never spoken to the rookie. Nice try, but that excuse was... disappointing."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"That's better. Now, I will tell you why I wanted you here," his voice became lower with a husk in his tone, "You see... I believe…I know, you have the potential to excel even further, but that will require a level of... closeness between us. I can provide you with a much-needed connection to ensure good things come your way; I can even get you out here quicker... And I know that's what you all want, to get out of his hell hole." He continued to smirk, knowing he had the upper hand as he proceeded to graze his fingers along the clothed plush of your thigh, then turning into his large hand grabbing it; you felt your chest rise for a quick and small moment as your breathing quickened as he continued to squeeze and go upward to your waistband gently.

"S-sir, don't think you think this is inappropriate?" you couldn't help but continue to stammer, frozen by how he freely explored; he wanted to go deeper and rip your clothes off like he always desired since the moment you sauntered over and caught his attention.

But he couldn't help but chuckle to himself softly, and that sound only sent an uncomfortable shiver down your spine as he knew he wouldn't listen to your pleas. "Oh," his voice dripping with amusement, "I didn't know you were so against getting out of here. I guess the isolating, lonely, harsh place gives you an inviting feeling, doesn't it? But by all means, stay. How could I be so silly as to think you wanted an advantage?" he pulled his hand away for a moment as he watched you squirm in thought.

You sat there, thinking to yourself, knowing that this was all inappropriate and that you had never even thought of Krauser in that way, but you weren't going to deny that this place was slowly killing you from the inside out; you saw how it was changing those around you, and he did make a correct observation that you didn't need to stay for all the years of the programme to get far — you weren't only the favourite because of looks, you had skill, you weren't going to be humble about it since how else would you have gotten there?

“So, what do you say?” His hand hovered around your waist, waiting for you to say yes.

“You’ve put me in a difficult decision, and I-”

“Ah, ah, ah, I don’t want to hear complaints… You either let me have what I want or leave… and who knows what will happen to you… Maybe even the worse.”

You couldn’t risk that. You didn’t want to; if this situation had never happened, you wouldn’t even look at him that way; you just thought and tried to tell yourself that it would probably be shit if it were like the other men you had been with, it would be a quick deal, all you had to do was endure those few minutes, maybe fake an orgasm or two, and get everything you wanted. However, you knew you would have to put your dignity on the line for this.

But dignity was a good trade for freedom.

You nodded, continuing to look down as you accepted Krauser’s proposition; he continued to lay his hand on your upper thigh before making his way to your waistband again, freely exploring you like he had given you all the freedom to make a choice, you just stayed silent as he did whatever he wished.

“Don’t go limp on me. Stand.” You did this slowly. "Hurry up.”

You stood and presented yourself in front of Krauser, and his large hands rested at the sides of your hips, pulling you closer and nestling your standing body in between his legs; you could already see a bulge in his pants, mentally preparing yourself for whatever he was going to do to you. Just endure; it’s just a few minutes, he’ll probably be really bad, and you’ll get to maybe laugh about it, you kept telling yourself as a way to calm your nerves.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he whispered to you as he started to unbutton your trousers, pulling them down and revealing your lace panties, “Hm, already prepared, it seems,” you couldn’t help but find it so gross how he was just going to use your body, making it easier to disassociate as you felt the skin of his fingers feel your lower half, moving your body automatically as he continued to take your top off and leaving your standing there with nothing but a bra and panties. “Take it all off me, now, sweetheart.”

His language was slow but eager at the same time, he wanted you more than anything, and all you could do was begrudgingly take your bra off and let it fall to the ground, kicking it to the side, and he watched the flesh of your breast exposed right in front of him; just the sight made him stand up and grab you in a deep and rough kiss, no passion just lust as he pressed the forming tent in his pants against your thigh and your pussy. You instinctively reciprocated the kiss, having your hands placed on his muscular arms, then his shoulders, wrapped around his neck as his hands wandered all over you, first grabbing and squeezing your tits, then grabbing the fat of your ass harshly as he kissed then moved to your delicate neck.

That was when you felt a throbbing sensation, a heartbeat pulsating, moving from your lower body and creating a knot in your stomach; that was when you realised that you liked this; your hands moved to his hair and ruffled it all up as you shared the same energy and pacing in this kiss that was becoming wetter with every interlock, feeling his cock twitch and wait to be inside you. The kiss went on long, but it felt short when you were starting to ease yourself into it, disappointed as it stopped but being met with the delight of seeing Krauser hurriedly taking his pants off, forcefully sliding his boxers down and experiencing a jolt of heated excitement as you saw his large cock spring up, already covered in a dribble of precum on the tip.

You didn’t have long to admire him as he grabbed you by your hips, hard enough to leave slight marks, but you didn’t care if he threw you around like a ragdoll; you were just getting excited as you proceeded to share a kiss, as you moved your hand all the way down to his throbbing erection, wrapping your fingers around it and pumping it lightly — you felt a hitch in Krauser’s breathing as you showed more enthusiasm.

“Aren’t you eager… Put that whole front for nothing, didn’t you, you little slut?” he whispered in your ear as he placed his hand on yours and slowly removed it, “open your legs a little, now.”

You obeyed, following suit and parting them slightly, eagerly awaiting the next move he had to make; you watched as he briefly rubbed his hard member before using his spare hand and placing it on the side of your thigh, slowly pressing his cock in between your thighs, moving back and forth when he was satisfied with how the fat of your thigh surrounded his hard cock. He let out a deep breath as he slowly continued to rock back and forth and feel how wet you were through your panties, pressing his fingers into your hips; you couldn’t help but release small, high-pitched moans as you felt it push alongside your folds, making you even wetter and wait for him to get bored and finally be inside you. Still, you were also not completely opposed to enjoying this sensation.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he thrust his hips and felt your wet heat surround his cock, “god, I need you.”

“Take me then,” you replied, biting your lip as you continued to feel your core tingle for him.

“Why couldn’t you have been this eager at the start,” he let out a small and breathy laugh as he pulled his hips away from yours and tucked his fingers in the band of your panties, wasting no time in ripping them down and making a slight pain as you felt the fabric material rush against your skin, you winced a little, but Krauser didn’t care.

All he cared about was how your beautiful, wet pussy was right in front of him and there for the taking, grabbing your hand and making your way to the wooden desk he had tucked in the corner of the room, throwing you on the hard, wooden surface. You felt pain in your elbows as you made contact with the desk, but your adrenaline was pumping inside you, bringing that sharp spiking pain to a minimum so you wouldn’t be distracted. He looked at your glistening cunt, for a moment: “such a pretty slut,” his words were harsh but alluring as he rubbed his length before rubbing the thick and wet tip along your bare slit, watching as you squirmed with just the mild contact along your core. Krauser couldn’t help but be so proud of himself as he got you begging for his cock like a little whore.

“You want me, don’t you,” he just couldn’t help himself but tease you as he watched you spread your legs for him. You nodded to answer, but that wasn’t enough, “use your words.”

“I w-want you so-so bad,” he waited for the magic word, “please, sir.”

With that, he slowly introduced his cock inside your walls, groaning quietly as he felt your warm and tight walls clasp around his length: “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered as he continued to thrust his hips into yours, picking up the pace as placed his hands on the joint of your knees, his thumb pressing at the back of them and holding your legs that were already trembling.

You arched your back as he fucked you deeper; you felt the tip of his cock roughly kiss and bruise your cervix, whining and getting warmer as he pressed his fingers into your legs the harder he fucked you, getting more turned on when hearing his groans, and his laboured deep breaths. You cried out as he fucked you senseless, thinking how stupid you were in previous thought that you would have to fake everything; Krauser had to clasp his hand over your mouth with how loud he made you, he was slightly disappointed that he couldn’t let you cry and moan out and cum to the sound of his name on your tongue, but he had to keep this all a dirty secret, smirking to himself as he continued to thrust and penetrate your sopping wet cunt that felt like it belonged to him and him only, as you squirmed and let him go harder in your squelching pussy.

That was when you felt it: a warm sensation that was going to roll from your core out to your mouth; you felt yourself reaching a climax and didn’t care how loud you were going to be. Your eyes began to roll to the back of your head, only exposing the whites of your eyes as you loudly released a groan as Krauser pulled one of your legs over his shoulder to get deeper, rubbing your clit with his thumb when he noticed you get closer.

“Fuck… I’m so close,” he spat as he gritted his teeth, not wanting this moment to end but acknowledging his limit was close, “gonna fill that slutty hole up,” his degradation was only adding to how loud your orgasm was.

Accompanied by a grunted moan, you felt a hot, sticky rope flood your walls, filling you so full that the warm sensation started dripping out and surround Krauser’s cock. Then sharing a moment, just looking at each other and breathing heavily.

as promised i am tagging @mrswint3rs (you should defo check out their fics as well)

a/n: i know i know i know i have been going on and on about doing some krauser stuff for ages but i finally managed to get the time and motivation to complete the wip that has been collecting dust in the google docs. so i hope you enjoy it, i begggg haha.

p. s. also i wanted to note that i wasn't sure if i should label this as dub-con since it isn't the traditional dub-con fics i have seen, but after discussing it with some people on disc and my own evaluation i wanted to label it as dub-con since even tho there is some enthusiasm towards the end the reader isn't presented with much choice, and there is a power imbalance. so if anyone is confused that is my explanation for it. i would rather maybe mistag with too much than ignore something and accidentally expose someone who didn't want to see that particular content. anyways i hope you liked this and all engagement is appreciated, hope everyone has a lovely day/evening, mwah mwah mwah.

#jack krauser #jack krauser smut #jack krauser x reader #jack krauser x afab reader #jack krauser x f!reader #dub-con #resident evil #read the warnings #trainee x trainer #power imbalance #power imbalance fanfiction #jack krauser oneshot #oneshot #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #fanfics

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matchingbatbites · 1 year

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tw: dub-con

Eddie isn't really sure whose party he's at tonight, but he's kind of past the point where he cares. He’s already sold out of the stock he brought and has spent the last little while just drinking and people watching, and it's been nice just blending into the background for once.

Currently, he's going through the upstairs hallway, trying to find a bathroom that hasn't been trashed by party-goers so he can at least take a fucking leak before he heads out for the night.

He isn’t expecting the hand that appears from nowhere and yanks him through the closest doorway. There’s no time to react as he’s pulled into the room, and the blinds must be closed or something because it is dark in here, preventing him from seeing whoever it is that snatched him.

Eddie finds himself pushed back against the door as it’s shut behind him, and he doesn’t get out a single word before that hand - big, with strong fingers, a guy? - grabs his jaw, and fuck, Eddie’s about to get the shit kicked out of him, isn’t he? He grabs the person’s wrist as he squeezes his eyes shut against the darkness, braces himself for a hit.

He’s surprised when instead a mouth presses to his own, hard and wanting, and yep, this mystery person is definitely a guy. The stranger seems confident as he slots their lips together, as he pushes his free hand inside Eddie's jacket to settle on his waist. Eddie can smell his cologne, something clean but heady, and feels the slight scratch of stubble as he can’t help but kiss back, even as tense as he is.

Part of him feels like he shouldn’t be okay with this, with some random stranger just using him like this. He probably wouldn’t be, if he wasn’t so - fuck, not desperate, but eager for just this. He’s well aware of how hard it is to find any kind of action as a gay man in Hawkins, so yeah. If some straight boy wants to conduct a little experiment in the dark, well, no harm done, really.

He can’t expose Eddie without exposing himself as well. It’s that thought that lets Eddie finally relax into the kiss, and his stranger seems to take that as a sign to double down in his efforts to kiss Eddie completely stupid.

Teeth nip at Eddie’s lower lip before a tongue slides over it, soothing the bite, and Eddie opens his mouth with a soft groan. The other licks inside, bringing with it the taste of mint and beer, and the kiss turns wet and messy, exactly the way Eddie prefers. The hand moves from his jaw and pushes into his hair, and Eddie melts as blunt nails scratch at his scalp, tug at his curls.

Time feels like syrup as he’s kissed within an inch of his life, he has no idea how long he’s held there while this mystery guy takes him apart with lips and teeth and tongue. He seems intent on ruining Eddie for kissing anyone else, and the worst part is the longer he goes, the more he succeeds. Eventually though, he seems to get his fill of Eddie’s mouth.

The stranger gives him one last peck before he pulls Eddie away from the door and in a swift, smooth motion, turns him around, opens the door and pushes him back out into the hallway. The door closes behind him with a soft click, and Eddie feels so disoriented as he stands there, just blinking in the bright light for a moment.

What the fuck just happened?

#the mystery guy is steve #just so we're clear #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joey writes #if the end feels abrupt its because its supposed to #dub-con #tw dub-con #edit: added dub-con tag and pre-warning #ficlet

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leakyweep · 9 months

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Doflamingo x Reader - Walk Home - NSFW

Warnings: dark content, dub con, possible non con based on readers perception, gendered nicknames (princess, darling), doffy getting reader intoxicated with the intention to manipulate, penetration, cream pie, coercion, manipulation, doffy manhandling, doffy in general

MINORS, DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

It had been a long night at the bar; from the way you had danced like your life depended on it to get you through your tough breakup, the blonde, tall man who'd approached you with such a grin you thought he'd eat you whole, the drinks he had you guzzle...

Now, you were sitting prettily in Doflamingo's lap, shrouded in shadows at the back of the bar. His lips engulfed yours in a fiery, passionate kiss, his hands running across your skin in a rough snare that was enough to entrap you in his charm. His words were as sweet as honey while he promised you all the things you could want in the world if you'd just let him have you, to keep you for only himself.

"I know it sounds selfish..." His lips danced across the skin of your neck, breaths hot against your ear, "I just can't help myself... and think of all that's in it for you, princess. Anything you could ask for, it's yours." The curl in his lip, the gleam in his eye, it made your stomach churn... deep in your chest you felt dread, as if this man would bring you trouble.

"I... um..." You were flattered, truly. However, you had just met the man! You couldn't just be whisked away by him, no matter how much you wanted to. You had a life, a job; you couldn't just go missing... or could you? "I just need some time to think."

You couldn't cogitate clearly right now, neither with him sitting so handsomely under you nor with the alcohol coursing through your veins, brain dizzy and vision a bit hazy.

The way his smile fell, the way that shine in his glass-covered gaze blinked out, the way his fingers gripped the skin of your hips as if he were angry at you declining... it made your guts churn, heart beating faster.

Almost as fast as the grin was gone, it was back, as if it had never disappeared. He nodded towards the bar while taking your dainty hand. "Then why don't we have another drink, and I’ll make sure you get home safe? You seem to be quite inebriated, and I'd hate for such a princess as yourself to be taken in the night."

If you weren't so damn drunk you'd decline him again, but you couldn't argue with his logic. You were in no state to trust a walk home by yourself. Besides, it was only a five minute walk back to your apartment.

Doffy held your waist steady to stumble over to the bar, order you another drink, and watch your lips wrap around the straw. His mind was swimming with dirty fantasies, his mind made up on what he'd do with you once he got you to say yes to him. Or not; it didn't matter to him. You'd submit to him somehow, this was just the easiest way to a non-violent outcome.

The way his gaze bore through you, as if he were gazing upon a fresh meal, ready to devour any second, it made a fire light in your core. You tried to swallow the feeling, push it deep down because you don't know what this dangerous man would do to you.

Your clothes were forgotten, thanks to Doffy, who had laid you down in your bed before leaving. He insisted he stay for a few minutes to make sure you'd be okay...

"Your body is so beautiful, darling... gonna use it, gonna make it feel so good..." his tone was opposite from his sweet words, low and sultry and preditorial. Your eyebrows knitted together, legs closing against his touch, your nerves on fire. You couldn't say much. Words slurred into one another, eliciting a small chuckle from the tall man as he peeled your panties off.

"Puh-please- I-" you were cut off by a hand around your mouth, fingers gripping against your hair. The sensation was enough to pull a moan from the back of your throat, nerves on high alert from the intoxication.

"Please, what? Use your words. You want me to keep going, right? Want me to make you feel good?"

His words were drowned out by the vodka clouding your thoughts, your eyes, your sense of good judgement. Hands were getting closer to your wet heat.

You couldn't help the buck of your hips, the mewls leaving your lips as he continued to cover them. His laugh reverberated against you. You had no choice but to submit, pinned under his weight and convinced by the alcohol that you wanted this.

You nodded furiously against his palm, your mind and body completely consumed by him now.

His movements were firm, unyielding to your squirming and whining to line his thick, veiny cock up to your pussy, his tip collecting some of the wet that had pooled at the bottom of your slit, drooling onto your bedsheets. His thick swollen head was enough to make you mewl, his length even more impressive. It lulled you to drawl out his name, and he grunted as his hips pressed yours against the bed, affixing your body there.

With a strong grip, he held your biceps down to the bed, as if he could never let you escape his grip, lest he lose you forever. When he pulled his cock out to the tip, he paused for a moment to leave a bite around your nipple and make you grunt his name. He then slammed his hips back down, a loud slap reverberating around the room, accompanied by a pitiful symphony of moans and sobs.

"Doesn't that feel so good?" After waiting a moment for your answer and being met with slurred syllables, he grabbed your chin with rough hands and began to pound into your weeping cunt at a merciless pace. He was like an animal in heat, needing anything to satisfy his hunger. "Hey- I asked you a question, princess. Does. it. feel. good?" Each word was punctuated with a sharp snap of his cock.

Your pussy was on fire. He was drilling into you furiously, like you were the last thing on earth he’d ever fuck in his life. His palm landed a loud smack! against your thigh, which was followed by a moan bitten back by his bony fingers in your mouth.

Your mind and body were at war with each other; on the one hand, the fire in your core was growing stronger with each thrust, each filthy, dirty word uttered from behind that shit-eating grin; on the other hand, your brain was telling you to stop, that this was wrong, that he coerced you into this.

The feeling of his head poking your pulsing walls was heavenly, his face carved in the moonlight like a marble statue. He was a handsome man- a handsome man who would take what he wants, when he wants it. And he was doing exactly that.

“D-D-“ Each time you tried to utter his name, you were met with a hard thrust. Your pussy clamped around his dick, pulsing walls beginning to give in to orgasm. You heard him chuckle, removing his fingers from your mouth to pull your hair downward, forcing you to look at him while your climax hit you. “Cumming-Fuck-“

Your body racked with twitching, his cock slammed deep inside as he spurted your insides with his creamy cum. A whine escaped your sore throat weakly, tears brimming your eyes and a thick ring of your cream wrapped around the base of the King’s length. Your vision was white around the edges, pupils dilated as you looked into his lusty eyes, brows furrowed and muscles spent.

“See, princess? Felt so good, right?”

#dub con #dubcon #dub-con #tw dubcon #tw dub con #tw dub-con #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader smut #one piece #op #doffy #liv writes #dark content #possible noncon based on reader’s perception #cw dub con #cw dubcon #cw dub-con

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tellmeallaboutit · 2 months

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Raphael/F!Tav: belle de jour

Summary: Raphael obsesses over his sleeping Archduchess wife.

Rating: Mature / Explicit

Trigger warnings: somnophilia (and therefore dub-con), obsessive thoughts, paranoia, power-lust, jealousy, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship, dark Raphael.

Wanted, wanted: little mouse.

Hair: blonde. Lips: scarlet.

Where is she hiding in his house?

Why are you hiding, darling? (*)

****

There she lay.

There she lay, his temptress: face down, her hair unbraided, her body naked but for the lace of her knickers, on their enormous four-poster bed.

There he stood.

There he stood at the door, rapt. The red pillow, the excessive, creamy silk pillow she lay on was so soft and deep that her face was almost hidden, but he could still see the high curve of her cheek, her small flushed ear. There was something innocent about the way her legs were splayed, childlike about the way her hands were tucked under her breasts.

Her innocence is nothing but a sweet little lie, and this sweet little thing doth lie, oh doth she lie.

His Archduchess lay there, passive, soft, his belle de jour, his sleeping beauty. A delicate snore escapes her lips. Such a perfectly mortal thing, a defenseless thing, an irresistible bait.

His Archduchess is elsewhere, in realms where he is barred from entry. Scarcely anything escapes his control now; yet her dreams are her sanctuary. He watches her inhale and exhale in slumber's grasp, he notes the rhythmic ebb and flow of her lush bosom's rise and fall.

Her eroticism is his oblivion.

Her skin, oh her skin, is pure liquid silk and it's so soft to touch and utterly void of even the smallest blemish. He yearns to see this vixen flayed bloody raw to strip her perfect skin of its tyrannical hold over him.

He kneels before her splayed legs like a suppliant, but it's futile to beg for mercy from her: for she, his Archduchess, is bereft of mercy – her cruelty dwarfs his own.

He touches the satin fabric of her undergarments which are dampened by her desire. “What do you dream about, mouse?", he asks, his fangs nibbling the tender terrain of her thighs. "Whom do you dream about?".

She remains silent, ever the tease, ever the provocateur, and he feels a rush of desire which is almost painful.

Who could she possibly be dreaming about that would cause the wet stain on that beige satin, that nymph harlot of his?

He kneels and he pulls away her knickers to probe her, and his tongue encounters her wetness, thick and syrupy - she is in the middle of her lunar cycle. His body jolts at this realization and aching need - she is fertile - she commands him to perform his duties.

More sons, strong, powerful hellspawns, more sons to pit against each other, to ensure the survival of only the ones who prove their mettle, to ensure his legacy for eons to come. Daughters bring naught but a handful of cubs, his sons will have thousands of women swell for them.

Her eyes flicker half-open and all he can see is the stark white.

“Raphael?” she asks in her dream, as if not sure; and why is she not? Who else does the vixen expect to lay between her legs in their bedroom?

He lullabies her with his soporific enchantment, not ready to part with the power that is being her voyeur and violator.

“Sleep, my darling wife”, he hushes, and her face softens and her lips part and she tosses her head back and lets a small, child-like whimper.

He showers his sleeping beauty with lascivious caresses, the skin of her thighs gooseflesh under his fingertips. He is generous with his attention, tasting her juices as if they hold the secret to who occupies her thoughts, as if his tongue could coax the truth from her.

She whimpers and moans but betrays nothing, her lips and mind sealed.

She need not tell; he has a vast imagination.

He imagines catching her in flagranti with his own brother, their bodies obscenely knotted, her small hands grabbing his spiral horns and her slim ankles forming a vice around Valefar’s back. He imagines: her crying out vulgarities, his brother flicking his tail in delight.

Oh, that whore of Babylon, that Messalina, Circe, Jezebel, oh, his bane and downfall, hiding behind her veneer of porcelain skin and rose-tinted nipples and the scent of honeydew.

Wildly, he pursues the shadow of her infidelity. He positions her supine and unfurls her under his weight. Her transgressions, so vivid in his imagination, make a savage out of him.

He imagines how he decapitates his brother before her very eyes and stakes claim on her beside the still-warm corpse. Oh, would she whine and sob and garble apologies and plead for mercy, oh, would he give her none.

He sheaths himself inside of her, in this silky soft scabbard, which is his right, and she gasps and winces and she utters a soft ‘ow!‘, and he tastes the pang of pain off her lips, her Boticellian pink lips, the color of raw rose.

His claws tug at her skin, marring her, and this is his right too. Tears form in the corners of her eyes, and oh! such tears she has! never before had he seen tears of that size and brilliance. His tongue pilfers them from her skin, to which she responds with a slight toss of her head.

He punishes her for the phantoms of any other that might have haunted her golden-tressed little head, and her lax and defenseless body shakes with the cadence of her chastisement.

Many dream of pressing their weight onto her, oh, of that he has no doubt. Other devils covet her, and rightly so; let them squirm in the throes of envy and desire, let them gag on their impotence, and let them watch, for they will never have her because she is his and only his.

She dares not dream of any other. She dares not think of any other. She dares not look. She dares not dream…

Oh, but she does, the little serpent, the viper. What does she do when he does not look? He recalls his father's frayed lips whispering too near her round little ear as Mephistopheles dubs her his cherished daughter-in-law, and she musters a forced smile. He remembers her overdone laugh at Mammon’s tasteless jest, eyes darting. What does she hide, what does she plot?

He thrusts her open, he lays her bare, his fingers and tongue and manhood know naught the limits of his possession, and yet the only truth his interrogation elicits are her soft moans.

Oh how cruel she is to him! Always has been. Mocking him even when asleep with that La Gioconda smile of hers. Man covets; woman is coveted. This is a woman's singular yet significant edge. Woman knows of her power and will abuse it given the opportunity.

After all, what's power for if not to abuse?

He seizes her by the wrists and tries to kiss her, but she tilts her head to the side and his lips meet only her cheekbone. He stares into her soul taking in her lust, pride, ambition; but her soul is not his; it's hers.

Yet.

"I adore you, my little mouse", he breathes into her sleeping face. These insipid, cliche, mortal words mean nothing but he wants to taste them and they taste bitter. He thinks surely now, she would snap out of reverie just to open her lips into a scornful laugh at his confession.

But no, she sleeps, an expression of capricious boredom on her languid features, her cheeks flushed from his kisses.

She will use this weakness against him. The others will too, those others who always wanted to see him fail, ever since birth. All those others waiting for their turn to mock him, cheering for his downfall.

Weakness is a contagious disease, the most contagious of all diseases. Let it inside his Layer, his domain and his marriage and watch them crumble and bury him underneath.

His Archduchess despises weakness, and so she must, or she wouldn’t be his Archduchess. She cannot know of any of his weaknesses, and she will not. The failures on the Eastern Blood War Front, the rebellions, the debt chokehold Mammon has on him, the legions who still pledge their allegiance more readily to his father than to him.

She cannot know that or... his fears.

What fears?

He has none. He fears not. He, the Archdevil of Avernus, is feared. He claimed his power, he took his thrones, he forced the first Layer to his knees; he needs but to maintain it, to control it, to…

Never let her go.

She will never dare to leave him. She knows that. There is just one escape from him and that is death.

“Do you know that, mouse?”, he says, his thrusts underscoring his question, his hands around her alabaster neck.

She stirs. She moans. He hushes; she should sleep. So he could tell her all the things he shouldn't.

If only he would just have more power. More souls under his command, more treasures in his coffers, more armies marching at his beck and call, more layers of Hells—these are what he needs to truly possess her.

Power is the only thing women ever respect, mortal or not. He's seen this tale play out a thousand times; they chatter of love but only kneel before the mighty. Should a stronger contender emerge, should he exhibit any frailty, they...

No. No. She will never leave him. Nobody can give her what he can.

He feels her walls flutter around him and he knows: she bewitched him.That's why her sweat, her tears, her juices taste so divine, that’s why he is hopelessly shackled to what is between her thighs. She bewitched him to try to weaken him and…

She. Will. Pay. For. It.

"You are becoming a heel, son", he hears his father's acidic voice; he hears it always, every day, a never-ending reminder of his shortcomings. "Let her taste your whip, let her taste it daily, or she will make you a slave to hers”.

The old coot is right. He ordered her to get his firstborn back in their house; and she made her little face, and she pleaded “you promised, Raphael, please, you promised”, and what did he say?

Nothing. He is becoming a heel, a wretched lovesick fool.

He let her get away with too much. What hasn't he given her? The Archduchess swims in riches, his beautiful, passionate, cruel, and despotic mistress who wantonly changes her whims every passing day.

His most prized possession, the crown jewel of his hoard, and yet this treasure thirsts for more of her own.

Women.

They never have quite enough, no matter how much you give them. Glasia sits on piles of gemstones, Fiera has her own temples upon temples of souls, Baalphegor got an entire plane as her tribute. Yet, is their thirst ever quenched?

Never. There is always another man who could give them more. He needs to compete with everyone, every single day, and he needs to make sure his Archduchess has more today than there was yesterday, so she would never, ever... He dances to the tune of the infernal chant, the empty promise of infinite growth: more, more, more.

He needs more from her too, and he takes more, hips grinding with a savage rhythm, forcing his wife down into the mattress.

You can only hurt those you love, and they are the only ones who can truly hurt you back.

His thoughts wander to her whip, he thirsts for her strike, longing for her to lay pain upon him, longing for his Venus in Furs to mark him as her captive, to see the passion flare in her sharp blue eyes as she raises her unforgiving hand. Oh, cruel thing, cruel, capricious thing, his little mouse.

Pain is their shared delicacy, both of them the finest of gourmets, and they spoon-feed it to each other every night.

He unleashes the hot poison of his loins into her and her toes twitch, her mouth agape, and there's a strand of saliva down her chin and that too he claims as his own. His thumb rubs her between the legs until he sees right through her body to watch her womb contract; once, twice, thrice, the little ripples through her body, and he is satisfied with her satisfaction.

He is more charitable than he thinks.

He draws his tongue across her damp brow and whispers words of love that would never see the light of the day. She's already basking in admiration and flattery; no need to slake her insatiable ego any further.

The Archduchess sighs and curls away from him, knees to her chest, leaving him to stare at the cleft of her buttocks and her slit moist with his seed.

She will wake up come morning with a dull ache between her legs and might even have the audacity to reprimand him for his nightly fervor but he knows, he knows, ever since the first day he made her his own:

She loves it.

(*) A play on the poem "Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze" by V. Nabokov.

The still is from the movie "Sleeping Beauty", 2011.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #baldur’s gate 3 #dark raphael #somnophilia #dub-con #raphael / tav #raphael x tav #raphael x oc #bg3 fanfiction

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zoeykallus · 9 months

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smh i cannot believe i missed your first maul hc post 🤤

haha omg maul waking in on fem reader doing “self care!” and if you can, a version where fem reader has to seduce maul and another version where maul has to seduce fem reader? (if that is too much, just pick the scenario you like best.)

Aloha!

I'm so sorry for the late response! These days I can barely find time to write. Most of the time, I write at nights when I'm supposed to be sleeping 😅 Which is good and bad. My creative side is wide awake at night, much more so than during the day. The downside is, I don't get nearly enough sleep, I might get mistaken for a zombie and catch a headshot some day. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Okay, enough excuses and crying over spilled milk.

If you don't mind, I really like the idea of Maul walking in on fem!reader doing self-care. He needs to punish her, of course.

Maul x fem!Reader Oneshot - Bad Girl

Warnings: Smut/Sexual Content/Dub-Con/PiV/Toy Use/Dom Maul/ Sub Reader/Cunnilingus/18+

________________________

These days, Maul is on the road a lot again. You don't know exactly what he does, he doesn't talk much about his missions, the things he does. In any case, you haven't had any intimate contact for a long time. You are ravenous, Maul is on the road again, and you take the opportunity. You have completely undressed, naked self-care just feels better. With one hand you caress and massage your breasts, play with your nipples, the other hand wanders between your thighs. Your fingers dance over your clit. It feels good, always close to the edge, but somehow not close enough. Something is missing. You grab your favorite dildo, a custom one you had secretly made, it's modeled after Maul's cock, with the same nubs, and ridges. A cheeky smile is on your lips. You touch the dildo, it feels deceptively real, in excited anticipation, juices gather in your pussy. You place the dildo on your wet entrance as your fingers continue to rub over your clit. "I've been a bad girl," you say softly as you begin to push the lifelike dildo inside of you. It feels so good, so relieving, almost real. This is it, this is what you've been missing. With a moan, you drop your head back on the sofa cushion and start moving the dildo between your slick walls.

But then you hear something, it sounds like a growl. You lift your head in surprise. Maul is standing in the middle of the room, staring at you, his gaze gloomy, hard to interpret.

You haven't even heard him coming in. He stands there with his natural crown of horns, his eyes like a burning ember.

Startled, you tear the blanket off the back of the sofa and want to cover yourself, but Maul darts over to you and snatches the blanket from you, throwing it carelessly behind him. You lie there, naked, with the dildo in your pussy, heart racing as he stands over you. He examines you, his gaze falling between your legs. "I guess you couldn't wait for me to come back?" he growls. You swallow, searching for your voice, and finally say, "You've been gone so much lately, it's been a long time since we've.... well-" He interrupts you, "And you thought you were cheating on me with a piece of plastic?" You blink. "Cheating?" you ask, confused. He points to the piece of dildo sticking out of your wet pussy. "Yes, cheating. Or is that my cock in your pussy?" Again you blink in confusion. You know that Maul is prone to jealousy, very much so, but jealousy of a dildo is not what you expected.

"Well, it's basically your cock," you say meekly. He frowns, kneels on the sofa between your legs and grabs the bottom of the dildo, pulling it out a bit, eliciting a small moan from you. His gaze shoots back up to your face. You look at him shyly, cheeks heated. Finally, he looks back down, at the dildo, turning it a little inside your pussy to see more of it. You have to bite your lower lip to keep from moaning again. "That one really looks like mine," he murmurs thoughtfully. He looks back up into your face, a teasing smirk on his face. "Well, in that case," he says, sliding the dildo back in. Your mouth pops open, and you can't hold back the moan. You hear him laugh softly. "While we're at it.... what's that?" He spots the vibration switch, turns it on, eliciting a sweet little sound from you. His grin widens, and he increases the vibration level, all the way up. "Oh gods," you squeeze out, feeling like your whole body is being shaken.

"If you're going to do it, do it right," he says, amused. He lies down between your legs, grips your thighs tightly with his hands, and his mouth descends on your clit. He sucks on it while his tongue slides wildly over it, circling, applying pressure. "Fuck... Maul..." You can't even manage to form complete sentences anymore, the vibration in connection with his tongue play is just too much. You're literally racing towards the edge. His tongue is so fast and deft, the dildo filling you vibrates wildly between your slick walls. You long for the climax, but you're also a little afraid of it. You know he will overstimulate you mercilessly, that's his way of punishment. But you can't stop it, your orgasm lets out a loud moan from your lungs, rolls over your whole body like a wave and makes your thighs quiver. But he doesn't stop. His tongue dances wildly on your swollen, overstimulated clit, the dildo continues to vibrate in your pussy. You moan, twitching, trembling in his hard grip that is sure to leave marks. "Maul... please... no more..."

He waits a few more seconds until he gives in to your pleading. Maul sits up, jerks the dildo out of your pussy, which elicits a surprised sound from you. He doesn't turn the dildo off yet, though. He just puts it aside for a moment, grabs your hips, and flips you onto your stomach. "Spread it," he murmurs. You spread your legs for him as instructed. Maul slides the dildo under your pussy so the toy vibrates right against your clit. You start to twitch again, still overstimulated, but he puts his hand just above your butt on your lower back, pushing you down, onto the dildo. You let out a squeak, and you know he's smiling with satisfaction right now. One leg on the floor, one knee on the sofa, he kneels right behind your bare ass. With his free hand, he opens his pants, freeing his now hard, thick cock. He gives you a good slap on the butt, not aggressive, almost tender. "My bad girl," he says, laughing softly.

In the position, pressed by him into the sofa, naked in front of him, about to finally receive the real cock, your arousal picks up momentum again. Then you feel his tip bumping against your opening, slowly plunging between your slick walls. He penetrates you completely. Maul pauses there a moment with a growl, deep from his chest, he can feel the vibration of the toy as well. "Interesting," he says softly. Then he gets going, his hips starting to thrust back and forth, faster and faster. His pelvis keeps hitting your buns loudly, the clapping fills the room. He now has both hands on your hips, pushing you towards his thrusts and down onto the vibrating dildo as he does so, his balls touching the toy and causing a surprising rush.

His fingers dig into the flesh on your hips as he fucks you harder and harder. You bite into the pillow on which your head has been lying before, your fingers claw into the fabric of the sofa. Your saliva wets the pillow, your eyes roll back. The moment his warm cum spurts into your cleft, your walls twitch around his grooved cock, your orgasm pulsing sweet and heavy through your swollen pussy as he fills you. Both of you are breathing heavily. Slowly, Maul lets go of your hips, you can feel that he has left bruises there. He bends over you, kisses the spots and says, "I had to punish you". You can live with this kind of punishment, you think to yourself silently. But you know Maul knows full well that you like it. He gets you some wipes, so you can clean yourself up, then he says, "Get ready, we're going out tonight." "You're taking me out?" you ask with a smile. He rolls his eyes, but then he also smiles and says, "You're right, I've been out a lot, leaving you alone for too long."

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#star wars #maul #darth maul #maul x reader #darth maul x reader #smut #maul smut #darth maul smut #star wars smut #maul x reader smut #sith #sith lord #asks #requests #suggestive #dub-con #zabrak

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dreaming-for-an-escape · 1 year

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Okay so here’s an Aurelia & Maegor drabble. 18+ only please. There is major dub-Con. It’s Maegor Targaryen...so...yeah. BE WARNED.

Aurelia hated his smell, the way his coarse hands felt on her body, she hated everything about Maegor Targaryen. The hatred she felt for him was hidden now, for she learned what would happen if she made it known. She could still feel the phantom aches throughout her body when Maegor did his husbandly duty on their wedding night many months ago.

Since then he hadn’t been as violent with her but he wasn’t soft either, not really. A man like Maegor could never be like that, not even to Aurelia who was his favorite out of his wives…or so he would say. He had a funny way of showing favoritism.

The ruby gemstone necklace he’d so generously given her felt more like a collar. She wasn’t allowed to take it off, which had been an order from him. He always wanted her to have it on, especially when he took her to bed. Tonight would be no different.

Her cruel husband wasn’t even supposed to visit her tonight. It was Tyanna’s turn to entertain Maegor but during dinner he made a brisk announcement that he would be visiting Aurelia instead.

Aurelia hadn’t missed the way Tyanna’s face twisted, the hold on her goblet tightening so much she was surprised it hadn’t cracked. Everyone noticed her anger, aside from Maegor who instead had his hungry eyes on Aurelia.

That same look in his violet eyes was there when he barged into her chambers. He said nothing to her as he practically threw her onto the bed, turning her so that her hips were up and her face rested on the pillows. She heard him take off his clothing before he ripped apart her dress.

Then without properly preparing her, Maegor shoved himself inside her. Aurelia’s scream was a silent one, and the few tears that did escape her were absorbed by the pillows. It seemed tonight her husband was too eager to get inside her, as shown by his uneven and speedy thrusts that were being guided by his large hands on her hips.

Thankfully for Aurelia it only lasted as long as counting to forty in her head. Foolishly she thought that was it but to her horror he turned her back around to face him. She much preferred when he took her from behind, at least that way she wouldn't have to see his face.

“Say you love me.” Maegor growled, staring down at her with his violet eyes. He eyed the ruby gemstone that lay above her breasts before looking into her eyes. Unfortunately for her, he didn't give her time to answer and he started thrusting inside her. His hands pinned her own above her head, making her feel more defenseless. His thrusts were fast, deep, and overall brutal. Though it was nothing like her wedding night it still pained her.

Aurelia held back tears as she gave him a smile she perfected over the months since marrying him. “I love you.” She falsely declared. It was convincing enough because he was then smashing his lips to her own, biting her lower lip until it bled. She told herself a bloody lip was better than him choking or slapping her.

Aurelia looked up at the canopy while Maegor continued rutting into her. His groans made her want to frown but she fought to keep the smile in place. There wasn’t much else she could do but hope he’d finish soon and that he wouldn’t want to bed her a third time tonight. She was already sore, and although his seed hadn’t taken root in her yet after all these months she still didn’t want to risk it.

Maegor was desperate for an heir, but Aurelia didn’t want to be the one to bring an innocent child into this mess. However if she did end up pregnant she’d do more than give fake smiles and falsely declare her love for Maegor. She’d leave this hell of a place. Somehow Aurelia would leave because no child should grow up knowing Maegor as their father.

Aurelia kept thinking this even after Maegor finally spilled his heavy load inside her.

#my heart my body my soul #aurelia martell #maegor targaryen #smut #dub-con #angst #I hate Maegor even more after this #oc

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