You fall from grace as a group of raiders destroy your lavish community, taking in you as a macabre spoil of war
Warnings: Dark dark topics, noncon, abduction, mentions of killing a whole community, raider! characters, psychological, physical and sexual abuse, sexual slavery
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Chapters:
Who owns you?
Clean
Someone's
Feather light touches
Defiled
Miller's
Breaking in (Part 1)
Breaking in (Part 2)
Breaking in (Part 3)
surrender
thunder
Drabbles
Period drabble
Before punching Acacius
Oscar Isaac Crossover
Aftermath?
cumplay
Headcannons
Feel comfortable to request any idea you’d like to see play out in the story; I’ll try either to integrate it or create a hc or drabble about it!
Summary: After the disappearance of your husband, Emperor Lucius, the trusted General forces himself into the throne, and into you.
Inspired after the Odyssey
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! Noncon, like really really dark noncon, manipulation and coercion, time accurate sexism, unprotected sex (p in v), blood, violence, physical, mental and sexual abuse, degradation, murder, for more warnings read each chapter’s warnings!
Pairings: Dark! Marcus Acacius x Queen! reader
Parts
Hold them down (the fic that started it all)
While holding you
under his grasp
man of the house
Golden chains
Drabbles
Marcus finds out you are pregnant (not canon)
Headcannons
Feel comfortable to request any idea you’d like to see play out in the story; I’ll try either to integrate it or create a hc or drabble about it!
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dubcon, fingering, unprotected p in v, male masturbation, degradation, mean and dark joel.
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Series Masterlist
Hands. Warm, calloused and thick.
They lulled you awake, that and the shift on the bed.
Your sleep tiptoed the line between wakefulness and deep bliss, it had been like that ever since you arrive to the house. You mushed your face closer into the pillow, the softness a newfound pleasure. Behind the stench of sex that emanated from the room, you picked the scent of something new. The bed sheets were from your town.
Just down the street from were your house was at, your mom usually made you pick up fresh linens every now and then. Softies.
When a palm nudged your collarbones, pain bounced all over your body. You clenched your thighs, a reflect, the sting greeted you fiercely.
"Puppy," He called out, and you flinched. He caught you still, mere inches away from the bed's edge. "Wake up."
His voice went deeper, a command. You blinked, peeling your eyes open to the darkness of the room. Your reality. Your arms tightened around the pillow as an anchor to life.
"Someone wants a bite out of ya," He drawled, and his breath fanned against the exposed crook of your neck. "seems like he waited long enough for this."
Someone new?
"N-no." You whimpered, no more please. The memories of earlier flooded your mind, their touch everywhere, violating and degrading. It hurt to even talk, throat hoarse. "Please Joel, no more."
His hand traveled down your spine, over the curve of your ass. It sent shivers at it's wake, fondled new bruises. You crossed your knees, and felt him sneer against your hair as he forced his hand in between them.
You jerked onto your elbows, giving him the chance to scoop an arm under your ribs and press your side to his chest. His fingers roughly searched for your entrance.
"Thought you'd be more excited for him." He grunted, and your fleeting hand came to grip at his bicep. His voice was laced with venom, and it pierced through your ears in the silence of the night. "There, there."
His pointer and middle circle your hole, swollen and sensitive. He played around with the remains of his assault on you, still buried and leaking.
"Stop it." someone seethed. Your frantic panic ceased, just in case, before adjusting to the timbre of the voice.
Catfish.
You let out a breathe of relief, body almost relaxing against Joel's. But he chuckled, pulling his digits out off your folds, just for them to smear against your thigh and hitch your knee off the bed.
Pain shot across your hips and muscles, and shame rose to your cheeks. Being so bare in front of Catfish seemed like a stupid thing to worry about, but still felt so wrong.
"He has finally caved in to get a piece of ya."
Your blood froze and your eyes shot open, fully awake.
"Haven't ya, Catfish?" He sang again, smugness written all over his tone. "Come here and take your price."
And then, something horrible happened. The bed dipped, the tell tale sound of a zipper, and Joel shuffled just slightly to the side.
"Catfish." You begged with renewed vigor. Tears threatened to spill as his hands gently wrapped around your hips.
And he didn't respond, instead Joel chuckled. "Aww, what's the matter baby? Not excited to see your little friend?" He mocked, fingers digging cruelly into the soft flesh of your thigh as he pulled your side against his hardening cock. "Catfish has been dying to get his hands on this sweet little ass. And now, he's finally going to get his chance."
The bed creaked as Catfish climbed onto it, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the heat of his body, the barely restrained hunger radiating off him. Terror gripped your heart as you realized he was positioning himself behind you, his cock gently tapping against your skin.
Joel laughed, a wicked sound in the dark room, and fisted a hand in your hair. He wrenched your head back, forcing you to look at Catfish as he loomed over you, and his face, oh his face.
He was scared. You could tell from the moonlight slipping through the blinds, his big puppy dog eyes, the way he looked unsteady on his knees. Catfish didn't want to hurt you.
"I'm sorry." He mouthed, and his hand held his cock as if it was a burden.
"Catfish..." You repeated, now in painful understatement. Your heart sobbed, it ached for him. He was being forced as much as you were.
Joel sneered at Catfish's hesitation, his grip on your hair tightening painfully. "Come on, don't be a pussy. She's just a little fuckhole, nothing more. Don't tell me you're scared of a slut like her?"
He used his free hand to reach back and smack your ass hard, the sound echoing obscenely in the room. Your flesh jiggled from the impact, and you couldn't hold back a sob. "Fucking take her, man. Shut her up with your cock like a real man would."
Catfish flinched at the harsh words and the sharp sting on your ass. His hands trembled as they gripped your hips, gently, almost reverently. He looked into your eyes, his own filled with anguish and apology.
He bowed his head as the warmth of his body enveloped yours. You felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against your folds, smearing them with your own arousal. Your muscles fluttered traitorously with a mix of fear and reluctant anticipation.
"There you go," Joel praised, grinding his hard on against your hip. "once ya get a fill, you're never gonna stop pounding into this pussy."
Catfish shuddered, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. It wasn't on purpose, that you knew. You felt the head of his cock catch on your entrance, your body instinctively clenching down. With a shuddering breath, he slowly pushed forward, the thick length of him parting your folds and sinking into your core inch by excruciating inch.
You squirmed, the pain in your abused cunt far too great. He bottomed with a choked groan, planting his palms at the sides of your face. Joel's arms slithered out off the way, making room for Catfish as he settled against the bed head.
You whimpered, tears leaking from the corners of your tightly shut eyes at the painful intrusion stretching you open once more. Your body trembled, muscles fluttering weakly around the thick shaft impaling you, trying in vain to adjust to the size and girth of Catfish's cock. The pain was intense, radiating through your core and making it hard to breathe.
Joel reached out and grabbed Catfish's hip, squeezing the firm muscle. "Fuck, she's so goddamn tight. You better not fucking cum too soon, man. I want to see you ruin this cunt properly."
Catfish didn't dignify his words with an answer, but he did press a warm kiss against your hair before he gently pulled his hips back. A soft sound escaped your lips.
Joel scoffed, rolling his eyes at Catfish's gentleness. "Don't be a fucking pussy. She can take more than that. You have a lot at stake here, boy."
Ignoring Joel's crude encouragement, Catfish continued his slow retreat until just the tip of his cock remained inside you. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed forward again, sinking back into your tight heat with a low groan.
He set a steady, if gentle, pace, his hips rolling in a rhythm that allowed you to slowly adjust to his size. Each thrust sent sparks of reluctant pleasure mixing with the pain, your body instinctively clenching down around the hard length filling you.
Catfish leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he peppered your shoulder and neck with soft kisses. His hands slid up your sides, cupping your breasts and kneading the soft mounds gently as he moved above you. The gentleness of it all made you yearn.
Joel watched the intimate scene with a mix of boredom and disgust, his own cock throbbing against your hip. Yet hidden beneath his stoic stare there was a layer of jealousy he wouldn't admit to. "Fucking hell, you're going to ruin her with that slow shit," he muttered. "She's not a goddamn blushing bride, you know."
But Catfish paid him no mind, focused solely on the woman beneath him, determined to bring her pleasure even as he took his own. His thrusts grew a bit harder, a bit faster, but still remained carefully controlled, thoughtful. You allowed a moan to bubble from your throat, muffled by the pillow.
Catfish's breath hitched, a shudder running through his body as he heard your sweet sounds. He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock, your body responding to his gentle thrusts despite the pain and unwillingness. Emboldened, he began to pick up the pace, hips rolling in a steady rhythm.
Joel snorted derisively, and you heard a zipper going down once more. "That's more like it," he growled. "Stop being a pussy and fuck her like you mean it. Show her what a real man feels like."
Catfish ignored him, lost in the feeling of your silken heat enveloping him. His hands slid down to your thighs, pushing them further apart to open you more to his increasingly powerful thrusts. The new angle allowed him to sink even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each forceful drive of his hips.
"Catfish." You mewled, pressing your forehead against the silk. You had never been fucked like this.
Soft grunts and pants spilled from Catfish's lips as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans as he began to take you with more fervor.
Joel watched, stroking his own aching cock as Catfish's thrusts grew harder, more demanding. Your body rocked with each slam of his hips, the force of his lust shaking the bed. The pleasure built slowly, the pain fading into the background as your treacherous nerves sang with new sensations.
Joel's eyes narrowed as he watched Catfish lose himself in your willing body, a jealous rage building in his chest. His hand moved faster over his own throbbing cock, squeezing and stroking with a harsh, angry rhythm. The sight of your bliss-filled body licked at Joel with a bitter fury. But it will all serve a purpose.
Catfish's movements became erratic, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he neared his peak. A guttural groan tore from his throat, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave deep bruises as he slammed into you one last time. Your eyes rolled back, feeling him impossibly deep.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" he roared, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finally found his release. Hot, thick ropes of cum painted your insides, mingling with Joel's seed. His body shuddered and jerked above you, lost in the throes of his intense high.
He panted above you, almost loosing his balance. He bent down to get a better look, your face scrunched in pleasure-pain.
Summary: You fall from grace as a group of raiders destroy your lavish community, taking in you as a macabre spoil of war
warnings: Dead dove do not eat, noncon, murder of unnamed characters (community), kidnapping, man handling, gang bang (not in this chapter but yeah), humiliation, virginity loss, reader being basically a sex slave, unprotected p in v, threats, darkness overall
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
series masterlist
Your boots padded on the uneven ground as your heart hammered on your chest, what was left of your community rising in flames. Once the habitat of the most prosperous survivors of the Cordyceps outbreak, reduced to ashes and death; and you, it's only remain.
You didn't even know of what you were running from, just doing it the second the alarms went off; it meant chaos, worse, Raiders.
That was what spared you. Your short flowy dress snagged on branches, red cowboy boots that were mostly a fashion statement proving themselves not ideal as you stumbled face first into the cold, sharp ground.
"What do we got here?" You heard a thick accent drawl, and your shivering body jolts your head upwards. A man, wearing a thin striped shirt and a thick, beige vest; His eyes are shaded by dark sunglasses and all that is recognizable is a thick mustache and a curved nose. "Are you alright?"
The rifle on his hand looks at you threateningly, as you retreat on bruised knees; The man takes off his glasses, realizing how intimidating he looked. "Oh-I'm sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to scare you."
You slowed your movements, gazing up at him, studying him. His chuckle still pulled at his lips softly. "I-I, My home-My home is being invaded by raiders."
You spluttered, and his eyes soften in understatement, body crouching to lift you off the ground. His arms were strong and tanned, and the way his hands wrapped around your arms gave your mind the slight fuzziness of comfort.
"Anyone with you?" He asked, his accent so foreign, you shook your head. "Alright, let me take you somewhere safe, mhm? can you tell me slowly what happened? My name's Javi, by the way"
You nodded, mouth blabbering everything you could remember, from the siren to the gunshots ringing to the fire; his hands never leaving your skin as he softly nudged you to follow him. He cooed at you, face scrunch in worry.
You didn't realize you were walking back into camp until the smoke hit your nose, making your head snap around wildly.
"Javi?" You ask, the name sounding bitterly in your tongue as you see him, lips pressed into a thin line to suppress laughter. Panic fuels into you as you see the group of men, thrashing the city. The boutiques, the stores, everything you knew.
Their gaze fall on you. Slowly, one by one, as they arise from the remains of your town; they are like walking dead, eyes hungry. You realized Javi's grip on you had become tighter, stopping you from moving.
His laughter rings in your ear as his arms envelop you, making it harder to breath. The man around you crowd closer, and you see flashes of your faces as the fear of the imminent swoons over you. You faint, knowing as soon as your eyes shut together that you are going to regret it.
The man, Javi, holds you tightly as you feel your knees buckle and your vision starts to swim. His strong arms keep you upright, even as the world around you begins to spin and darken at the edges.
Javi's voice reaches your ears, muffled and distant, as if he's speaking to you from the bottom of a deep well. "Easy there, sweetheart. I got you. You're safe now."
As your vision fades and your consciousness slips away, the last thing you see is the leering, hungry faces of the men surrounding you, their eyes glinting with a predatory light. The last thing you hear is Javi's low, rumbling chuckle, filled with a dark amusement that sends a shiver of dread down your spine.
The world goes black as you slip into unconsciousness, your mind reeling with the horrors you've witnessed and the unknown dangers that lie ahead. In the back of your fading consciousness, a small voice whispers a warning - that you may have escaped one nightmare only to stumble into an even darker one.
When you wake up, the first thing you see is an unfamiliar wooden roof; your muscles ache as you attempt to move, the hard mahogany floor hard against your spine, as if the soft blanket sprawled beneath you was non-existent.
"Finally." An unknown, Texan-accented voice sang; your head whipped painfully to see him. Your heart picked up, as behind the man were more.
You had seen him before; he stopped by your camp for food once. You cringed as you recalled how the townspeople turned him away, asking him if perhaps yesterday scraps were good enough for him.
“Feral stray” they had called him.
You remember getting a peek out of him, by the gates, his broad shoulders and pepper and salt hair branded into your mind.
Close behind him another man stood, same greyed hair, though he looked taller and held a scar along his cheekbone; his face was scrunched up, but his eyes told a different tale.
And then was Javi; you wanted to scoff as your mind recognized the nickname he told you to call him. He had taken off his sun glasses, dark eyes sliding up your face as he held a pleased grin, proud of his little catch.
You couldn’t get a proper look to the rest of the men as the “feral stray” spoke once again.
“Fuck, she looks terrified.” He commented, though no pity took place in his tone; a deep growl that warmed his skin.
You accessed the situation; they were bigger, stronger and more than you, but they stilled in their place, eyes raking slowly and precisely over your shivering form. You weren’t tied up, just laying there, and if you ignored hard enough the way Javi-Javier- had grabbed you before you fainted, there could be a simmering chance they were truly trying to help you.
“I-I-“ You staggered, but your brain couldn’t think of one thing to say in this situation. You planted your hands on the floor as you pulled yourself to sit up.
A breeze ruffled your skirt, and you eyes widened, feeling an unfamiliar chill in your core. A hand shot to your thighs, fingers gracing your most intimate place that you found bare.
“Looking for this?” Another men spoke, far more rough looking than the rest as he held your panties in his ringed finger. He laughed, eyes narrowing under brown tinted sunglasses.
Your hope was out the window, and you wished you’d be out the window too.
“I-please,” you managed to croak out, your best fake smile pulling at your teeth, as if attempting to back away. “I-I don’t want trouble.”
You suddenly weren’t a girl trapped in a house with seven men, but a highly esteemed comedian as the room erupted in laughter.
“Trouble?” One of them repeated, the one who looked the youngest, with short dark hair and a trimmed beard that shaded around his jaw; he gripped his dark yellow shirt as he cackled.
“Little girly doesn’t want trouble!” a thick, cow-boyish accent hollered as he took off his hat and pressed it against his chest.
You didn’t know if to laugh along or to cry, so your gazed fixed itself on the only one who wasn’t laughing; “feral stray”.
His glare was set on you, and you prayed and prayed he wouldn’t remember you, stealing a glance of him through the watch tower as the Community leader sent him away.
“That’s a pity,” He sighed, words profound and careful. “cause we do want trouble.”
With two long strides of his strong kegs he was besides you, looking down at you. Your mouth clamped as you pleaded with your eyes, tears kissing the brim.
Seven men.
One you.
Trapped in a house.
They were going to kill you.
Raiders were ruthless, never to be messed with, at least that’s what your community taught you, and by the cold, dark eyes that were posed on you, you knew then that it was true.
Stories flood your mind, murders, vandalism, theft, but never rape, despite it being the only reasonable thing this bunch would want to do to you. You had never heard about it.
“Please,” you attempted once more, hands sliding you away as they become clammy against the hardwood floor. “I-I’m no good, I’m a virgin, please-”
Their laughter dulled at your words, not suddenly, but intriguingly. You could hear some groans, some “sweet jesus” under their breathes.
“Feral Stray” bent at his waist, knees popping with effort as he reached his hard, calloused hand to grace your cheek.
“You know what they called me?” He asked.
Feral stray.
And he waited for you to answer, but you couldn’t. It was like kicking a bear that was already mauling you.
His fingers laced between the threads of your hair, still fresh from your expensive shampoo. You see his muscles flexing before you feel the stinging pain across your scalp. He tugs harder.
"You know what they called me, your stuck up, bitchy community?" He growled, and you whimpered. "Come on, pretty girl, give me the answer."
You felt as if he was going to rip out your hair, and you feared he might do it. Your neck craned painfully, looking at his furious face as a small trace of mockery, amusement was hid in his dark eyes.
"F-feral stray." You mumbled, barely above a whisper.
"Louder!" He screamed, the sound ringing in your ears as his face etched closer. You felt hot tears cascading down your cheeks, blurring the vision of the men in front of you.
"Feral Stray!" You yelped, as loud as the knot in your throat allowed you to say it. The grip stayed tight, pain blooming to your temples along the dull thump thump thump of a headache.
Suddenly you were pushed face first, your hands rapidly supporting you against the hard floor. You sighed, no longer feeling the head-exploding tension in your scalp.
A pair of hands pulled your hips up, forcing you to support them on your wobbly knees. Your head hung low, tears wetting the blanket beneath you.
"look who's the dog now," The man chuckled, a hand running over the expanse of your back. You sobbed at his words through ragged, half filling breathes. "that's it now, little puppy, come on now, bark."
Shame filled your cheeks as you slowly turned to look at him, pleading silent eyes, begging for it to be a joke. But he looked sternly at you, hand gripping your waist.
"Boss said to bark, puppy." The second eldest said, the one with the white t-shirt and the scar.
You couldn't bring yourself to do it.
"Seems like we got a disobedient one," Javi teased, boots etching closer to your line of sight. You dared to look up, look him in the eyes. "Bark baby, or you're gonna get in a lot of trouble."
His eyes looked slightly softer, still hungry and disturbed, but for a moment you had a deja vu of how he found you, even thought it was mere hours ago. The dusking sky outside told you so.
"P-please," You whispered to him, feeling the urge to cling to his leg. "please don't make me."
A grin tugged at his lips as he let out an amused breathe.
"There there," He cooed. "Not disobedient, just shy, am I right?"
Your head seemed to be locked in place as you attempt to nod at him.
"Well, she can't be shy when I'm asking her to suck my balls." The one who was holding your panties blurted; if you were looking at him you would have realized he had done a line of coke off of them.
"Patience, Dieter." The youngest one reprimanded him. "We can't expect a highborn girl to act so whorish on our whims."
"Like any good mare, just needs to be broken in." The cowboy one joked, making them laugh.
It felt so dystopian, how they joked about the situation. They could joke about it, while you stood shivering like a leaf.
"Don't get too excited," The scarred one spoke, with the regality of a Roman Emperor. "Boss is going to be the one to deflower her."
It irked you now, the casualness of all of it. The way they spoke of you like if you were merely a piece of meat, an animal even. Your knuckles turn white as you clutched the fabric beneath you, the warm blossoming from "Boss'" hand now unbearable.
"Do I even get a say?" You barked, immediately clamping your lips shut.
There were no slaps, no hair tugs, no pushes. All seven cold gazes directed to you. The hand on your back shifted towards your ass.
"Glad you asked," He grunted, kneeling behind your body as his immense back roamed over your flesh like a silent threat. "You don't."
You bit your lips as his touch became more demanding, kneading handfuls of flesh as he slowly pulled your thighs apart, your knees giving in. He hummed as he looked at you, and you never felt as bare.
If you looked forward, you could see the other men, hands wandering over their legs as they observed the scene, and if you looked backwards, you would see the look in his eyes. You opted to look down, the sound of zippers going down and Feral Stray's groans filling your ears.
"Haven't properly introduced myself," He spoke, pulling your ass cheeks apart and a breathless gasp from your lips. "Name's Joel; but you won't be calling me that."
You sensed an interchange of glances before Joel's fingers slipped once again into the hair at your nape, touch so gentle it almost cooled the sting of the previous grip, and pulled you up to face the men.
"Marcus." The one with the scar grunted, feeling your gaze on him.
Before you could continue to stare at him, the youngest one shifted “Oberyn.” he said, smirking.
“Whiskey.” The cowboy huffed, though you could tell it wasn’t his name. Not that it mattered as you felt Joel paw at your flesh.
“Dieter Bravo,” the coke-snorting one said, pulling up his sun glasses. “you may know me from the movies, did a shit ton of them back before the world went to shit-“
“Not now.” Joel bellowed, annoyed. His hands skimmed up and down your thighs, as if warming you from the biting cold.
Your eyes shifted to the one at the back of the room, the one wearing a baseball cap. He was deadly silent, had been all the time; you wouldn’t have noticed him if Javier wouldn’t have moved out of the way.
As they traced your stare, he lifted his eyes from the thing-looked like a toy helicopter- he had been fidgeting with. “Catfish.” He huffed, uneasy, returning his attention to the toy.
Silence wavered, only broken by your gasp as you felt one thick, calloused finger traced your slit. Fresh tears sprung as your neck gave out, once again facing the floor.
Two thumbs pulled your lips apart, exposing your most vulnerable oar to Joel; a deep seated growl roared through his chest as he observed.
"Gonna take your time?" Javier asked, leaning against the mossy green wall.
You felt his finger delve between your folds, touch warm as he pushed a little dipper; a soft whimper escaped you as he finally pressed a pointer finger at the top of your slit.
"Just this once." Joel muttered, deep in thought as he begun circling your nerve, weakening your elbows as your body urged you to lean forwards. Your nails dig into the wooden floor, urging you to stay up.
Their eyes, pairs of dark brown eyes posed on you, each glimpse of fresh skin they could get, your chest heaving and shining softly with a new layer of sweet, your jean jacket becoming unbearable under their hot gaze. Shame, shame warmed you up too.
They noticed, the dampness beading on your skin, cheeks red and heavy pants. How could they not? they were staring at your every move, how you shivered with Joel's swift touches on your clit, how you clamped your lips tightly, everything. If one wouldn't notice, at least the over five would.
"Getting warm there, honey?" Oberyn wondered, and you refused to meet his eyes.
"I think she is, why not shed a layer?" Whiskey teased, the low fap fa fap getting louder. It cringed in your ears.
"Acacius." Joel commanded, your brows furrowing, questioning if you had forgotten a name, or if there were more of them.
Your question was answered when Marcus thick thighs appeared in your vision, only recognizable by his worn down grey jeans. He pulled the jacket down your shoulders, the movement brief but forceful enough to let a small sound that you had withhold, all due to Joel's unwavering touch on your clit. He lifted one arm, gently, slipping the oversize denim off as you supported yourself in his scarred arm. The men almost moaned at the sigh of more exposed skin, and he finally pulled off the jacket.
He lifted himself on his knees, bulging crotch grazing against your forehead as you felt a tug on the soft cotton dress. Your head shot up, stuttering your words.
"P-please."
You didn't even know what you were begging for, an unfamiliar heat spreading through your core to your belly and to every bit of flesh you owned.
He looked down through almost black eyes, continuing to tug the fabric off your body until it came to your armpits. You wouldn't budge, hoping to sympathize with any trace of humanity in him.
For a few seconds he stopped, and you almost let out a sigh of relief as he dropped the dress; but then, his hands gripped around the hemline of the arm holes and a powerful screech of fabric ran through the air. After that, he continued ripping through the dress until it pooled beneath your quivering form.
The only thing you still had on was a flimsy bralette and your red cowboy boots.
Dieter commented something about it matching, but your mind race to the feeling of Joel pulling his hand away.
"This too?" Acacius-Marcus-you didn't even know now- asked, pulling at the clasp of your bra.
"Yes." One of them sighed, not Joel. He didn't break it, just let it slide off your arms.
The scene was almost ridiculous, clad in only fashionable boots, but it got them going. A palm smoothed down your shoulder blades, forcing your chest into the blanket and your discarded clothes. Before much warning, you felt two thick digits sink into your hole.
You cried, whining, trying to get away, but the hand was pressed to firm and in front of you Marcus still was there, working his belt buckle off. The sting opened your walls, and his pace was deliberately strong; in and out, against the sloppy holes that pushed tightly.
"Easy," He chastised, pace never faltering. "Gonna hurt more if you fight it."
You obeyed silently, fingers twisting against the floor, the sound of skin slapping skin growing louder as Acacius shifted beside you. You clenched your eyes, wishing to ignore everything as Joel sawed his fingers in and out of you.
The pain diminished, briefly, and your hand slapped against your mouth to stifle any pleasurable sound. He chose to scissor his fingers inside of you, preparing you for the inevitable.
It was normal it felt good, you knew that, that the way he was touching you was meant to feel good, but still shame crept over you as a coil begun tightening in your lower belly, cunt eager to take it in deeper.
Despite your efforts, whimpers and breathy moans escaped your palm, brows furrowed in submission as you felt him pull out his fingers, thighs shivering and rubbing to dissipate the pleasure that had struck you.
It lasted little, for the hot tip of his cock begun pressing against your entrance. You snapped out, grabbing Acacius thighs in order to get away as your hips were held prisoner in his hands.
"N-No, no please," You whimpered, but the other pair of hands tugged at your forearms, pulling you up to face him. With a steel grip, he forced you to plant your arms over his shoulder, back stretching and twisting as Joel pushed you onto his length.
"Hold-fuck-still," He grunted, pushing a girthy inch. Face inches apart from Acacius, you couldn't evade his glare as his hands clamped on your forearms. You stalled, getting lost in the enigma that held his face.
You pursed your lips as Joel brought you down further on his cock, pain irradiating from your core as he stretched you. As you attempted to move, Acacius held onto you with a force that told you he could dislodge your arms if he wanted to. From over his shoulder you saw blurry visions, the other men stroking their cocks, eyes like hyenas waiting for left overs.
The pain was unbearable, growing each time as you felt yourself being ripped apart by his cock, groans and moans were chanted in your ears, forcing you to take it.
"Fuck," He grunted, voice lost in pleasure. "So-fucking-tight."
He punctuated his words sheathing more of it into your core, though you felt as if you couldn't take more, as if he was fucking all the way to your guts. Your cunt clamped on his cock.
Acacius doesn't let up, his grip on your arms tightening as he forces you down further, impaling you on Joel's massive shaft. The pain is blinding, your walls screaming as they're stretched beyond their limits, forced to accommodate his incredible girth.
Joel grunted, his face contorted in pleasure, lost in the tight, wet heat of your core. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly, holding you in place as he continued to thrust, driving his cock deeper with each powerful surge.
As Acacius leaned closer, his breath hot and heavy against your face. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours, holding you captive in their gaze. "Take it, you fucking slut," he growls, his voice rough and demanding. "Take his fucking cock like the greedy little whore you are."
The other men watch, stroking their own hard shafts, their eyes gleaming with sadistic lust. They enjoy the show, reveling in your suffering and Joel's pleasure. The room is filled with the crude sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, guttural moans, and your own cries.
Joel's thrusts become more forceful, more punishing. He's chasing his pleasure, using your body for his own gratification. The pain is overwhelming, tears streaming down your face as you feel yourself being split open, ripped apart by his relentless assault. Acacius smirks at your tears, his grip on your arms not loosening even for one second.
"Fuck, she's gripping me so tight," Joel groans, his words punctuated by a particularly hard thrust. "Gonna... fuck... fill this cunt up..."
Acacius' fingers dig into your soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises, holding you mercilessly in place as Joel uses you like a fuck toy. Your body jerks and bounces with each violent thrust, your tits swaying hypnotically to the hungry hyenas.
"Look at them, whore," Acacius hisses, nodding towards the circle of men fisting their cocks, their eyes wild with lust and greed. "Look at how much they want to ruin your holes too. They're going to love wrecking your sloppy cunt after Joel's done flooding it with cum."
Joel lets out a guttural roar, his fingers sinking into your hips, leaving finger-shaped bruises. Your vision blurs as he hilts inside you with a final, brutal thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your clit. At the same time, his cock throbs and pulses, erupting deep inside your core.
"Fuck, fuck, fuuuccckkk..." he bellows, his hot seed flooding against your unprotected womb, painting your insides white. Your stomach bulges slightly from the sheer volume of his release.
Acacius' grip becomes loose as your body shivers, loosing strength with each final thrust Joel gives you. Soon enough, you cascade down his body, head laying weakly against his thigh as his open zipper rubs against your cheek. Your aching muscles betray you,
"There, there," Joel cooed, almost mockingly as his hand raise shivers along your spine. Your eyes become blurry as all you can hear is the men chasing their release and pain slowly overtakes your body, leaving you numb, almost lifeless. You found a strange sense of comfort from the warmth emanating between Acacius' legs, almost as if you wanted to curl up closer, but suddenly, you were pealed off by a sharp grip on your hair.
"Fuck, gonna cum in this throat-"
It all happened so quickly, but the one in the back, the only one who wasn't jerking off to all of this, shot up, stopping Javier with a harsh "WAIT" that shook the room. Hands slowed down, and gazes shot to him.
Catfish, he had said, rubbed his face in distraught as he hesitated his next words.
"Let her sleep, it's her first night."
You weren't focused on the laughs and hollers, but in Javi's leaking shaft mere inches from your lips; you have never seen one so close, each vein and ridge and it's pink tip, it's musky scent filling your nose.
"Awww," Dieter teased, pumping his cock with your underwear. "so sweet little Frankie, let the slut sleep huh?"
The Cowboy, Whiskey, chuckled. "Look at your pants boy, you are no better than us-"
"Alright." Joel cut them short, standing behind you. "She can sleep tonight, not gonna get much sleep in the next days..."
Warnings: Dead dove do not eat, noncon, forced marriage, thoughts of death, unprotected p in v, acacaius is mean and lowkey obsessed, creampie, threats.
Pairings: Dark! Suitor! Marcus Acacius x Queen! reader
Series Masterlist
It displeased you to find beauty in the vastness of Acacius' gardens, but as you attempted to hide from him, the greenery and wild flowers had become comforting in your solitude. It allowed you to escape his handmaidens too, his spies that dressed you each morning, their secretive and piercing eyes.
You sat down on the marble bench, gaze lost in a statue of Mars; big and bulky, dressed for war. You have noticed Acacius worshiped the god with unwavering faith, fittingly so. However, as you delved deeper into his garden, you saw further inclinations to the God of Death and his unwilling wife.
As boredom doomed upon you, you decided to explore further; you hadn't had much to think about in the last days, since Acacius brought you to his Villa, and you wouldn't doubt he had you removed from the Council. Sometimes you wished for death, walking the Elysian Fields with Lucius would be more pleasing than spending your days in a maze and your nights being tormented by Acacius ruthless appetite. You noticed how your fight had withered as realization doomed you; the little escape possible, the loss of your true husband, it clashed over you as Acacius grunted mine under his breath.
You found comfort in your memories along Lucius; his bright eyes, his charming smile and his indomitable spirit. More than once you found yourself laughing in your miserable cage, reminiscing a joke or a story he once told you. Soon enough his image bled into your mind as you laid beneath Acacius, a deep fantasy of what ifs. You grew a small, unconscious resentment against his deceased wife; despite knowing better, your mind just pushed you to blame her for Lucius not bedding you. And sometimes it turned against him, for delaying the whole ordeal; but it was futile then.
Wild leafs and soft petals brushed against your skin, clad in the dress Acacius had chose for you. Despite his words in your wedding night, Acacius relinquished having you locked in his walls, and dressed you acknowledging no other man would see you. High slits, low cleavages and gold.
You came to a stop, finding a statute you hadn't seen earlier. Your eyes narrowed as you attempted to recognize the feature; a woman, naked. Then realization doomed as you neared it; your hair, your eyes, your breasts. A shiver ran down your spine as you tensed.
Acacius voice was gruff as he spoke, but you were stuck in the trance to jolt at it. "You like it, my Queen?" He asked, marveling at the sight.
You closed your slack jaw, biting down on your anger. "For how long have you planned this?"
He wouldn't give you a reliable answer every time you asked, his story changing perhaps to taunt you.
"From the day he left."
You felt his fingers, now familiar, curl around your arm. With careful force, he spun you on your feet. You made out his features through the dusking light, something soft and passionate lingering in the way his eyes stared at you, lips parted in awe.
"H-how...?" You attempted to ask, a sob breaking through your words.
"I guided the artist, corrected him too," He explained, grip turning into a graze. "I have watched you for far longer than you think."
You felt exposed, vulnerable. Your hands twitched at the sides, wanting to claw at him. Something sad flickered in his expression, overpowered by his desire.
"Do you not like it?" He pressed, and your brows furrowed in horror. How could I? you thought. His face hardened. "Do you not like it, my Queen? do you not feel an ounce of flattery?"
You let out a dry, humorless laugh, taking a step back. Amusement etched in your features, you raised your hands, perhaps settling distance. "Flattery?" You breathed out. "Are you sick, delusional?"
His jaw ticked as he closed the distance with one, long step. Your mind fogged with fear, uneasiness, as your mind racked to all your previous encounters with Acacius. Your head snapped to the sides, trying to find escape. You were a prey caught in a trap, after all.
His hand grasped at your arms, stilling your figure. You looked up at him, eyes wide in panic and disbelief. His glare wasn't reassuring; you knew you had angered him. Your palms collided with his thick chest, the linen of his tunic rough in your fingertips, and you attempted to push yourself away.
Slap.
The backhand sent your head reeling to the side, a sob leaving your parted lips as you stared at the tall tree that casted shadows upon the both of you. Your gaze didn't avert for long, as he grasped your chin in his thumb and pointer finger, nearing is face to you. His scent clouded you. Musk and leather, he had spent all day training his men outside the Villa.
"Disgraceful," He hissed, and you pursed your eyes shut from the pain that seared on your jaw. "You rather miss a man that did not even spare a glance at you than behave for a man that treats you like a goddess."
You could hear the pain, laced along with his anger. You could feel it too, his grip constricting upon you, as if he desired to make you hurt like you were hurting him.
He turned you around and your body went clashing to the pedestal of the statue, knees buckling as he stepped over the skirt of your robes. Warmth emanated from his body, a stark contrast to the marble you had a white-knuckle grip on.
A rip broke into the silent night, and you felt the silk pooling around your frame; Acacius calloused fingers parted the fabric with easiness, leaving a shell of a dress to pile on the foot of the pedestal.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" He bellowed, breathe hot on your neck as he grabbed fistfuls of flesh hungrily. "You are my wife, mine."
You whimpered, cursing the second you had chosen to defy him. "N-not like this."
A phrase you found yourself repeating every time Acacius had found it fitting to take you; against the walls of his villa, in the bath, over the dining table. Yet this time you were more adamant, not wanting him to ruin the place you had found respite.
His hand left your body, yet his armored chest pressed against your bare back, metal pieces burning with their iciness and keeping you still, bent over the pedestal at your own feet. You felt his underpants brush against your legs, and swallowed a cry as his thick manhood slapped against your inner thigh.
"I believe you do not understand;" He groaned in your ear, and you could hear the way his hand pumped his shaft, his labored breaths. "If I wish to take you in the battleground, I will. If I desire to have you suck my cock in front of the Council, then you will fall to your knees and suck."
He ended the sentence by pressing his imposing cock into your small hole; your body prepared for the intrusion as you slowly became wet with the way he teased your entrance. Shame, by his words and your state, traveled from your chest to your cheeks.
You shrieked as you felt his tip spear into you, possibly the thickest part of it all. Your attempt to flee only caused the marble pedestal to sink deeper into your ribs; his other hand shot up to grip your shoulder, marred with old bites and markings.
He pushed you down onto his cock, and your knees gave out from the searing pain. You relied on your hands, clinging to the polished edge for dear life.
"Perhaps you'd like that," He teased, eyes rolling back at the way your hole protested against his cock, tightening. "taking you in front of my men, reducing their Queen to a cock-dumb whore, huh?"
You pressed your clammy forehead against your hand, tears slipping between your skin and the stone beneath you; the single idea made your breathe hitch, made you cry harder. He begun thrusting, sending you jolting over the pedestal, and you thanked the gods it was a smooth surface.
"I couldn't take it," He grunted, mind still wondering. "all those men seeing you, and for the first time-they wouldn't be getting my spoils."
You did your best to blur out his words, but his cock dragging through your walls wasn't easy to dismiss. You gasped a moan as he angled his hips back, taking you, if possibly, even deeper. His weight, almost pulling you off your grip, sent you down into his cock.
Bruises were forming under his grip, shoulder and hip. You preferred it when you just had to lay down and close your eyes. If you were lucky at all, you were lucky he wasn't forcing pleasure upon you-
His hand slid from your hip to your mound, tracing a map around the coarse, trimmed hairs until he found the little nerve on top of your slit. Rough fingertip attacked, pinching it and eliciting a whine out of your parted lips.
"There, there," He cooed mockingly, pressing his pelvis flush against your ass. "Your General is a dutiful man, going to give you the pleasure you deserve."
You wondered-not for long, as his thrusts sliced through your thoughts like blade- how could he speak so eloquently along his grunts and moans, how he strung words together as his cock plunged into you again and again.
He worked upon your clit dexterously, movements unfaltering; you felt yourself tighten around him, suffocating his cock as a knot formed in your stomach. The palm of his hand pressed against your mound, forcing you to feel every ridge, every vein.
"I have been thinking," he chuckled into your ear, and your brain prepared for any disgusting fantasy he may spill. "that it's time for us to head back into the palace."
You didn't know if it was the pressure against the spongy interior or the relief that suddenly overpowered you that sent you over the edge, moaning loudly as your jaw fell slack, toes curling. You felt Acacius still in his thrusts, mesmerized by the show you were giving him, cunt gripping him like a vice.
"Knew you'd like that." He murmured, pleased, as he picked up his pace.
Your body went limp, simply taking it; your head lolled off the other side of the pedestal, thankful he was pressing onto you to keep your on your feet.
You felt his cock twitch as he pushed it to your limit, growling into your neck as he gave a few more pumps and spilled into you. His cum, hot ropes of sticky mess, pistoned directly into your womb.
He fell on top of you, and gripping at your leg-the statue's leg-for balance. Sweat permeated in the air, along with the smell of sex, hidden by the night-blooming flowers.
You felt soft, lavish fabric cover your form-his rich red cloak-and he shifted you to your shivering legs, hands grabbing you possessively in an excuse of "support". You gripped the cloak tightly, as if it may shield you.
"Are we really going back?" You croaked, eyes looking hopefully at him. A genuine smirk tugged at his lips, hand cradling your cheek.
Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dark dark themes, sexual slavery, reader is in pain and exhausted, heed all previous warnings, threatening, Dark Joel, forced drinking, manipulation, mentions of noncon, idk what else to tag
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Series Masterlist
Joel felt over aware. As he sat down on the brittle wooden chair, fingerprints drawing circles on the table, the whiskey slid easily down his throat. Something he had gotten from trading with Jackson.
Your image dwindled on his mind, growing weaker by each passing minute. Naked, battered and bruised. He knew you were in pain, pretty cunt gaping obscenely. He knew that he could just crawl over you and fuck you once again if he wished it. You still laid in his bed, bathed and draped in new sheets, awaiting.
The door creaked open, the afternoon breeze accompanying the intruder of his thoughts. Whiskey’s shoulders squared with pride and his chest puffed, closing the door with a cocky kick of his heel.
Joel observed him as he strutted towards the table. His arm stretched under the thick denim of his jacket, and he presented his palm with a cocky grin.
The metal was tarnished, coppery, but the outline was clear. A tiny helicopter pin, Whiskey offered.
Joel felt amusement tug at his lips, but he schooled his expression. The pin clattered against the table, Joel’s eyes glued to it.
Sweet fucking Bingo.
The key to make you finally un-cling to Catfish right in his hands. He took it in his pointer and thumb, observing the way the kitchen light caught onto it.
Whiskey hummed, snapping him out of his thoughts once more.
“I think this settles for a good hour…” He drawled, eyebrow cocking teasingly. A part of him was joking, and the other part of him created a prominent bulge in his pants.
Joel avoided a disgusted scrunch of his face, fighting twitching muscles.
“She’ll need a break for tonight.” He declared, a solemn order that wiped the smirk off his man’s face. "But you'll be rewarded for this, that I promise."
Joel would he lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way Catfish flinched as the refrigerator door slammed closed under his grip. The cool, condensed bottle sent jolts along his hands. He was buzzing with excitement as he twirled on his feet and planted the bottle on the table with a slight thump.
He ignored the hollers of enjoyment of his fellow men, kicking the chair and taking a seat. Catfish froze under his stare, the all consuming guilt, he pondered.
He grabbed the tumblers on the table, filling them up. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. He poured more onto the last one, and pushed the glass to his designated driver.
Catfish’s brows furrowed under the baseball cap, shaking his head slightly. Joel could see the circles under his eyes, could feel the tenseness of his tanned skin; all a result of you. Your stay in the house was driving him mad.
“Not drinking tonight.” Catfish grumbled, but Joel tapped the glass in front of him.
“You’ll need it.” He muttered, enough to make the others cast side eyed glances at him, with sneaky intrigue. An order.
Javier cleared his throat, flicking ashes into the tray. “How’s the bitch?”
Bitch. Joel liked the ring of that nickname.
Joel’s lips curled into a sloppy smirk. “Fucked out.” He responded casually. “Giving her some damn rest, she took it like a champ.”
Javier smiled in agreement, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Catfish’s hand tense around the condensed glass. Of course he wouldn't enjoy the way they talked about her.
“Gonna bring some ‘plan b’s tomorrow.” He informed, gingerly. “no need to knock her up.”
Joel felt his muscles turn taut, and he grounded his teeth.
“Definitely.” Dieter added, with an air of authority he shouldn’t have. “No need for a little fucker here.”
Some laughed, Oberyn tsked, eyes dreamy as always. “She’d look nice, all round, those tits would be something I’d die for.”
The chair screeched as Catfish rose to his feet, still clutching the tumbler in his hand. Eyes shot at him.
“Where ya going?” Joel barked, a bit more forceful than he would wanted to. God, adrenaline was nibbling at him.
Hatred.
It spread all around Catfish’s face as he looked at them. As if he was any more worthy than they were, any more good. A look he had from the very first time, when Joel recruited him, that told him he thought he was far above them.
“I’m going to bed.” He answered, though his feet stayed stuck to the ground, awaiting.
“No, you’re not.” Joel nudged to the chair. Catfish sat down with a sigh. Good boy.
“What’s the matter?” Acacius frowned, leaning back into the wooden seat. “Don’t like us talking about her like that?”
Catfish’s jaw twitched.
“You never had an issue before.” Whiskey added, the thick smoke of his cigar curling around him in the air. "you even fucked some bitches back then."
Catfish took a sip of whatever was in his cup, perhaps to deter the questioning, perhaps because of the way Joel burnt holes into his skull with his eyes was making him uneasy.
And they persisted.
“You are too soft on her,” Javier deemed between curls of smoke. "that's why she clings so much to ya."
They agreed silently, and Joel felt the flames of jealousy licking at his spine. Each time you mumbled his name softly, he could almost feel the need in your voice for it to be him. To be Catfish the man that was pleasuring you.
As if he was the only man that could do it.
"What were you talking about in the shower?"
Catfish's face paled, but he still cleared his throat. "Nothin'."
"Didn't sound like nothing." Joel bit, studying carefully the nervous flicker of Catfish's hands. "She wants ya to fuck her?"
Catfish grimaced at the crassness of his words, untouched by the way Joel dipped his hand onto the pocket of his shirt.
"She's loosing her mind." He cleared, voice a plea, an excuse, whatever. It didn't matter to Joel.
He shrugged before dropping the pin onto the table; Catfish's eyes flickered from the dark onyx pools that gazed slowly up at him and the tarnished metal that clattered against the table.
His lips parted.
Bingo.
"How's your boy?" Joel drawled, tapping his big, imposing fingers on the wooden table. For a mere moment, he was alone with Catfish, just them under the warm lamp light. "What was his name, Tyler?"
"Joel." Catfish groaned, eyes glued to the silver helicopter.
"When was the last time you saw him, huh?"
Hands curled onto fists, and they slammed against the table. Enough.
Perhaps Joel was blissfully ignorant of the men around them, but Catfish was painfully aware. They were the only thing deterring him from pouncing on top of him.
"What have you done?" He spat, voice shivering.
Joel chuckled darkly, "Nothin'." He retorted.
He could see the way silence clawed at his ears, oh so begging for an answer.
"I haven't done anything, yet." Joel punctuated, slowly feeding him. "Just like you haven't fucked our little bitch yet."
Realization casted on Catfish features, and he shook his head on instinct.
"Joel, this is serious-"
"You know what is serious to me?" He cut him short. "That I cannot possibly trust one of my men anymore, just because he is pussy-whipped with a pussy he doesn't even fuck."
Joel's glare was intense, diminishing Catfish with his sharp tongue.
"And if I can't trust ya, then I have no reason to keep evading that little camp were your son is at."
His final jab made Catfish's eyes cloud with frustration, tears almost brimming. Fear bubbled in his throat as he spoke.
"What do you want from me?"
Cracked.
"You have to fuck her."
Catfish let out a dry, humorless laugh. Panic was nipping at him.
"What do you win from that?"
Joel's brows furrowed. "I miss the times were you just obeyed."
But as his hand reached over to the pin, Catfish spoke again. "Fine, Joel, fine."
Sweat beaded at his forehead just below his baseball cap, and his puppy dog eyes were wide, fearful.
A smug grin tugged at Joel's lips, triumphant in all it's glory. He downed the glass and rose to his feet in anticipation.
Summary: You relish on a silent prayer as Joel and his men break you in.
Warnings: Dead dove do not eat, noncon, kidnapping, dark themes, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, choking, anal sex, creampies, bit of blood, physical abuse, restraints, blindfold, dark dark and dark
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Authors note: OMG KEEP SENDING ME ANONS AND STUFF LIKE THAT I LOVE IT SO MUCHHHH
Series Masterlist
Your back arched against the mattress of Joel’s bare bed, hands nerviously gripping the thick, itchy rope that kept your hands tied to the head rest. You breathed in deeply, attempting your best to look as well behaved as possible.
The thick hands roaming your body didn’t help, invasive in their touch, sinfully warm. And yet, one wiped dampened straps of hair out of your forehead.
Could they see how fast your hard was beating?
“Shhh,” Joel cooed, as a meek whimper escaped your lips. “it’s all for the better, promise.”
His voice, sickly sweet and deep, did little to calm you down. You nodded, obediently, as a thumb traced the line of your sex.
“Gonna teach you to please the men in this house, alright?”
He asked, but he knew it wasn’t alright. You knew that too, that despite his sweet talking, it was all an obnoxiously false. If you were to begun thrashing around at that instant, those saccharine words would be gone.
Your silence was an answer, as it had been all along. You barely remembered uttering other words than “no” or “please”. He continued talking.
“We are gonna play a game now,” He muttered, pressing his palm against your jaw. “you gonna tell me whose fucking you, okay?”
Your brows scrunched under the blindfold, and he did you the favor of nodding your head for you.
You felt the bed move, cracking as you lost the brief sense of warmth their hands gave you. Almost tantalizing, almost reassuring.
Do exactly as your told.
Your breathe hitched in your throat as you felt the bed dip between your knees, hands splaying on your inner thigh to open you impossibly wider.
Where all seven of them going to fuck you?
A narrow waist settled between them, taut and lithe body. It's heat was remarkable as a thick head positioned on the curly mound of your cunt. You whimpered, feeling your senses painfully heightened.
As you attempted to dissociate from the situation, seeking solace in thoughts despite knowing you should be aware of which of this imbeciles where raping you- the notion of how all of this had occurred struck you.
Joel gave you and opportunity at redemption after punching Marcus, he was nice, then he brought you to his room and stripped his bed bare, and then they tied you up.
And it clicked.
Joel was nice.
They stripped his bed.
They tied you up.
Where they going to kill you?
You couldn't help but squirm, more hot tears stinging at your eyes. One even slipped through the blindfold, rolling almost beautifully down your cheek. The hot body pressed itself over you, and you bid your last goodbyes.
A pair of lips pressed themselves to the skin on your neck, the tip of his cock lining to your entrance. His hips stuttered, and a deep chuckle bounced against you as you whined; with an easing hand, two fingers came to rub at the bundle of throbbing nerves.
You bit your lower lip, muffling a moan. But his other hand, from the arm he had propped beside your head, came to part your lips.
"Don't hold back, puppy." Joel grunted, the sound didn't pierce your ears instantly. It wasn't Joel. "You gotta tell me who is it."
You felt unwanted slick ooze, the head of the cock nudging deeper. Two more rubs and he was sinking his cock; slowly, as it taking the time to spread you.
He pawed at your breast, anchoring himself deeper. You moaned, breathy, whimper-y, pathetically. You felt him bite his lip against your skin, as if keeping his ratty mouth in check.
As he begun to thrust in, slowly, sensually; his lips found home suckling at your your neck, as his fingers pinched and pulled at your taut nipple. It felt almost loving.
You felt shame cross your cheeks, as you blubbered out. "Catfish?"
A sharp jut sent you crying, and told you the needed answer. You heard faint laughter, and you squeezed your eyes shut under the blindfold.
"Strike one baby, you don't want to get to three." Joel warned, though the playfulness made you uneasy.
You felt a hot slimy muscle lathe over a healing wound, the one Javier had given you just a day ago. His teeth skimmed your gentle skin, carnal, baring. His hips rolled against you, and an idea crossed your mind.
You felt him pick up his pace, and let out a deep moan. As you clenched on his cock, he let out a throaty, wild growl, like a caged animal. You almost could smirk at your intelligence, but at the moment it felt like a pitiful attempt to safe your life.
"Javier." You panted, and he smirked against your skin.
"Atta girl." He murmured, voice laced with pleasure. His movements were now fueled by pride, reckless need to make you speak once more. "Say my damn name, baby."
And when you didn't respond, letting your pulse slow down, his hands came to bend your knees over his shoulders, sloppily forcing his cock even deeper. You groaned at the stretch, attempting to pull your hips away; but his cock chased you, entranced by the movement.
whispered, pleading and hoarse "Javier"s turned into "Javi"s until they were shut down completely by his rude, crass words you barely understood.
"Come on, putita, cum on my cock." He ordered, the curly patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves with each jerk of hips. "mostrale a estos tipos quien te coge tan bien."
And as if on command, you did. White hot flames licked at your body, your core pounded and you mewled for him, intense and deep. Javier was a few thrusts behind, spilling his hot seed into you.
His thick weight crashed over you, hot breathe euphoric against your goose-bumped skin. You basked in those mere seconds were the fiery denseness of Javier almost numbed the pain in your body, muscles finally relaxing. And then, just like that, the sound of a wet slap reached you, despite not feeling the sting.
"Move along, big boy." someone abruptly scooted him, and with a agonizing sound, Javier retreated from you. You legs barely touched the mattress before you were man handled on your knees, wrists twisting painfully along the rope. You squealed, your body so-not prepared.
Javier wasn't even off the bed when the second guy grabbed fistfuls of your ass, spreading the plump flesh apart. His thick knees pushed yours apart, and you winced at the excruciating ache at your joints.
A sudden wad of wet spit landed down the crack of your ass; but you were sure that you were wet enough with the amount of cum Javier had pumped into you-
God.
When had you became so shameless?
So filthy, so impure. You hadn't even asked them to stop, didn't attempt to plead. All because of your unwavering faith to Catfish, a men whose real name you didn't even know. Because he had promised you he'd save you, because he had told you to do exactly as you're told.
Was he even truthful? Or was he playing the same twisted game Joel-
Your thoughts ran dry as a massive head pressed against your untouched hole, swirling around the spit.
"Marcus!" You wailed, half an answer, half a plea. Seeing no responds, you continued, using what the other men called him. "Acacius!"
"Bingo, baby." Joel charmed, and you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
He pushed in, and you felt your eyes slam to the back of your head in a jolt of agony traveled from your hole to your lower back. He began filling you, and his slow pace seemed to be the only choice he had; nonetheless, he was concise, unfaltering. Uneasiness, discomfort, every synonym there was, you felt it.
"Jooeel!" You pleaded, something in your mind telling you he was the only way out off this.
But it was wrong, and Marcus let you know it; with half cock in your tightest hole, he slammed the remaining four and a half inches. As if he wasn't already reaching your guts, he pressed his cotton clad chest onto your dampened back, bending to murmur filth into your ear. You would protest more, but
Do exactly as your told.
"Told you I was gonna fuck this ass," He snarled, pulling as much as your snug walls allowed to slam back in. A cry died in your throat, and you were sure that you were going to die in that minute. "gonna fuck it raw, finally claim it."
He wouldn't let the pain dissipate, that you knew, pounding profoundly. His rugged hand came to lace with your hair, almost pulling the makeshift blindfold off before two fingers wrapped around it too.
"That's right, take my cock like the eager little cumslut you are," he commanded, wrenching your head back. His other hand gripped your hip hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises in your skin. "Fuck, this asshole is gripping me so tight. You were made for this, whore"
His words took you by surprise, but not for long. Marcus leaned down, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, his hand on your hair as leverage to keep your skin exposed. The scuff off his beard rubbed raw against your sensitive flesh. He bit down hard, sucking a dark bruise into your skin as he marked you. His touch slid around to your front, finding your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles. The pleasure was a shocking contrast to the blinding pain, making your head spin as he played your body like an instrument.
His thrusts became more erratic as your muscles contracted, heavy balls slapping against your ass with each plunge of his hips. You could feel him swelling inside you, stretching your asshole obscenely around his throbbing cock. He was getting close, his climax building rapidly as he used your ass with wild abandon.
You croaked the first thing that came to your mind. "Mercy, please."
Acacius let out a cruel laugh at your desperate plea, the sound sending icy tendrils of fear down your spine. "Mercy? Oh, you fucking slut, you don't get to use that word here. Mercy is for good girls, and you, my dear, are the furthest thing from good."
He was a God, dictating your punishment, for what precisely? you didn't know. He pinched your clit, hard, finding motivation in your pleasure-pain cry. Some relief came as he let go of your hair, but it left as soon as his hand wrapped at the nape, enclosing your throat in his big hand and squeezing just hard enough to make your breath come in short, sharp gasps.
With a guttural roar, Acacius slammed his hips forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt in your ravaged ass. His cock throbbed and pulsed as he found his release, hot ropes of cum painting your insides white. The sensation was overwhelming, the searing heat of his seed flooding your guts and marking you as what he said, a whore.
He ground his hips against your ass, stirring his softening cock in your cum-flooded hole as he rode out the aftershocks of his intense climax. Your stomach distended slightly from the sheer volume of his release, the outline of his cock visible through your skin. You could feel his hot essence seeping out around his shaft, dripping down to pool on the matress beneath you. He had filled you to the brim, your body struggling to contain the massive load.
"Got what ya wanted?" Joel asked, and the comment cut through the thick fog of tension your brain was handling. You were going to die of stress.
With a harsh laugh, Marcus pulled out of your abused hole, his softening cock slipping free in a gush of their combined fluids. Your asshole gaped and winked, the tight ring of muscle fluttering as it struggled to close around the void left by his departure.
Without his body holding you, you fell face first into the pillowy surface, sobs wrecking through your body as the aftermath of the destruction begun to set.
Joel couldn't help the warm feeling expanding in his chest at the view, your limbs twisted and splayed on the bed as you presented your perfect, gaping holes to them, milky and pink substance dripping out obscenely. He cock pounded against his jeans, begging for release. Your soft, battered body heaved with each pain-filled cry, it was all so perfect.
With not even a glimpse of hesitance, his head nudged at the next in line, handing him the ruddy pocket knife.
Summary: Joel gives you a glimpse of your future as he rewards Javier for finding you.
Warnings: Dead dove do not eat, noncon, kidnapping, dark themes, unprotected p in v, manhandling, sexual slavery, cum, threats, rough sex.
Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader
Series Masterlist
As you drifted off to a fitful sleep, your mind raced with fragmented images of the night's harrowing events. The feel of rough hands groping your body, the burn of humiliation as you were put on display, the searing pain of your first time being taken so roughly and violently. You tried to push it all away, desperate to find a moment's peace in the darkness.
Joel watched as your breathing evened out, your body going slack against his. A small, satisfied smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he pulled you closer, your naked body fitting perfectly against the hard planes of his own. His hand drifted down to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh possessively as he let his eyes roam over your sleeping form.
"Sleep tight, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day. A very big day indeed."
As the night wore on, you tossed and turned in your sleep, trapped in a nightmare of leering faces and groping hands. In your dreams, you were back in the living room, surrounded by the circle of men. But now, they were all touching you, their hands everywhere, violating every inch of your body. You tried to scream, to push them away, but no sound would come out. You were trapped, helpless, as they used you again and again, your body no longer your own.
Joel watched your restless sleep, a look of cruel amusement on his face as he listened to your muffled whimpers and cries. He knew you were dreaming, knew the nightmares that must be playing out in your mind. And it pleased him, knowing that even in sleep, you could find no escape from what was to come.
As the first light of dawn began to filter through the heavy drapes of the bedroom, Joel's hand tightened on your thigh, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered. "Wake up, puppy. It's time to face the new day."
You whimpered, his voice and touch dissipating your sleep. Joel chuckled darkly, amused by your attempt to hide from the inevitable as you pressed your face into the pillow. He grabbed your shoulder and rolled you over, pulling you onto your back. He leaned over you, his face inches from yours, his heated breath washing over your skin.
"Hiding won't save you, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, menacing growl. "In fact, I think the boys will get a real kick out of seeing you try to fight it."
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, his calloused fingers grazing your cheek. "So why don't you save yourself the trouble and just accept your fate? Be a good girl and do as you're told, and maybe..." He paused, a wicked glint in his dark, brown eyes. "Maybe it won't hurt as much."
Joel's hand drifted down to your collarbone, his fingers tracing the delicate bone before moving lower, over the swell of your breast. He circled your nipple, not touching it directly, but close enough to feel the heat of his skin, the rough scrape of his fingertip against the sensitive flesh.
"I've got big plans for you today, puppy. For us. For all of us." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. You felt fear extend from every inch of your flesh, body taut. "So you'd better get used to the idea of being our little plaything. Because that's all you are now."
He punctuated his words by pinching your nipple hard, twisting the sensitive nub between his fingers until you cried out. He watched your face, taking in every flicker of pain and fear, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.
"Now, I think it's time you got up and got ready for your first real test as our little fuck toy. The boys are eager to see what you can do." He released your nipple, leaving it throbbing and aching. "Don't keep them waiting, sweetheart. I promise they won't be gentle."
You swallowed, hard.
Joel's eyes flashed with a dark, hungry light as he saw the fear and resignation in your gaze. He could practically smell your submission, the way you were starting to accept your fate as their plaything. It was intoxicating, knowing that he held such power over you.
He sat up, the sheets falling away from his body. He was a formidable sight, all hard muscle and tanned skin, a few scars crisscrossing his arms; you knew more were scattered against his chest, just knew it. He was a man who had seen his share of fights, a man who knew how to take what he wanted.
"First things first," he said, his voice a low, commanding tone. "You're going to shower. Thoroughly. I want you clean and fresh for what's to come."
He stood up, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of bed with him. He led you to the bathroom down the hall, the same bathroom from the night before. The memories of what had happened there, of the way Javier and Whiskey had used you, flashed through your mind. You thanked God that no one was in the hallway.
Joel turned on the shower, the water cascading down from the rainfall shower head. He tested the temperature with his hand before turning back to you, a wicked grin on his face.
You stood before him, naked and vulnerable, your skin flushed and heated from the events of the past night. You hadn't even realized there was a shower.
"Now get in the shower," he said, nodding towards the steaming water. "And hurry. The boys won't wait forever."
The boys. Was that what he called them?
He answered your question as he slumped on the couch, bringing your naked form down beside him. His tone was saccharine, domestic in a sense as he called out. “Boooys!”
It was for show, most of them were sitting on the chairs beside the couch, others sipping coffee by the kitchen counters; all eyes on you.
“err-bring me paper,” he ordered, not exactly to anyone but soon enough Oberyn was giving him a notebook and a pen. He clicked it twice, out of anxiousness. “What day is it today?”
“Tuesday.” Javier responded, yet his eyes never left your nipples.
Joel’s brows furrowed in thought as he wrote down the days of the week; you peeked over his hunched shoulders timidly. The others peeked too, expressions intrigued as their boss delivered little hums.
He wrote his name next to Monday.
“Well, Javi got her so it’s only fair…”
Tuesday-Javi
For once he lifted his eyes, scanning the room. You shared your confusion with the others. He pointed at Marcus with the end of the ballpoint pen.
Wednesday- Acacius
“W-what is that?” You croaked, knees pulled against your chest. He lifted the notebook on his pijama clad thigh, giving you a sided grin.
“Whiskey,” He called, writing Thursday and Friday on the list. “Thursday or Friday?”
Startled, Whiskey pressed his hat onto his head. “Um, Friday? Thursday is cattle day.”
Joel nodded enthusiastically and wrote it down.
Thursday- Oberyn
Friday- Whiskey
He pointed at Catfish, whose under eye bags have grown darker from what you remembered. Unamused, he hummed in response from the kitchen counter.
“You get Sunday, there you can take care of her all ya want.” He sang, and in response Catfish tilted his head quizzically.
You felt dread pooling on your stomach.
Before you could part your lips, Dieter leaned over by the armrest of the couch, voice impatient yet excited. “And I?”
Joel turned around the notebook, tapping of his name next to “Saturday”.
You looked at the sheet, mortified.
Monday- Joel
Tuesday- Javi
Wednesday- Acacius
Thursday- Oberyn
Friday- Whiskey
Saturday- Dieter
Sunday- Catfish
What the fuck?
The sound of ripping paper brought you back, and Joel wore a proud smile on his face.
“You each get a day with her,” He explained, as if he was teaching them how to play a card game; a sick and twisted card game. “To guard her, to fuck her, I don’t care; you have to me make sure she doesn’t leave. ”
Silence depraved you, because it gave way to the unimaginable, it let your mind wonder. You shifted your gaze to find Catfish, looking for an ounce of comfort, but he wasn’t looking back at you; he stared at the floor, face scrunched up, deep in thought.
“Just to be clear,” Oberyn spoke, ticking his jaw. “we get to fuck her once a week only?”
Your face paled, finally understanding what it all meant.
A sob left your lips, tears pooling from your eyes as you attempted to blink them away, dreading bringing more attention to yourself. Joel pouted at you, mockery written in his eyes, and his hands came gripping onto you, pulling your bare body over his burning hot one.
Joel chuckled, deep and earthy, hands skimming over your curves as he forced you to straddle his crotch. “Not exactly; for example, she’s Javi’s today, and if Javi wants to share, well then he can share.”
The explanation sent your chest tightening, the casualness of it all.
Your gaze fell onto the dilapidated wall paper behind his head, the rising sun dancing upon it. "Please," you mustered to squeak; your answer was a pair of hands on your hips, pulling your sensitive core right onto his hardening cock. "p-please, let me go."
"Little Princess wants to leave us, all high and dry?" He asked, offended. His arm shot up to purse your cheeks in a punishing grip; you hiccuped as his glare hardened. "Not gonna happen, puppy, we won you. Crystal-fucking-clear?"
You trembled in his grip as he forced the soft tissue of your mouth against your teeth. His tongue slipped to lick his upper teeth as he shook your head up and down for you, grinning at the way you couldn't fight him.
"There, good dog," He praised and degraded at the same time. You felt ache settle in your jaw as you did your best to appease him with your eyes, big and trained on him. "You gonna learn to take all the cocks in this room, to service my men in whatever they wan, clear? now you gonna let Javier fuck that little cunt or whatever his depraved little head desires, got it?"
He let go of your jaw, hand still close in warning as you nodded frantically. He patted your cheek a bit rougher than you expected.
Javier stepped closer, a grin plastered obnoxiously on his face. “Well, then she’s mine today?” he asked, certain pride swelling at his chest.
Joel glared at him a bit, annoyed by the flamboyance. “Yes, Javier.” He groaned, before pointing him with a finger. “Don’t break her- yet.”
You felt a hand cling around your arm lifting you from Joel's lap, and your eyes raised to meet his face. He had cleaned up his mustache and his hair was properly combed; his eyes, dark as deep, squinted at you with unwavering enthusiasm as he yanked you to your feet.
You felt something tug at your throat, the necessity to beg, but the futility of it all became crashing down as he dragged you to one of the rooms in the hallway.
You hadn’t thought about those rooms, wishing you will never had to see their insides. Yet, as Javier slammed the door open, you felt certain familiarity.
The room was big, as big as your old room back in the community, and through the window in the middle of the beds you could see a big pasture of what was the camp, cattle even grazing in the fields. You stared for too long, stumbling in your steps as Javier pushed you onto one of the twin sized beds, sheets unmade.
The bed carried his scent, musky and pine-y and leathery. You attempted to straighten up, but weight fell on you at your naked thighs.
“Finally,” he groaned, shuffling down his pajama pants. You peeked over your shoulder, seeing his hand envelope his cock. “good thing Joel knows I love a tight slut.”
You whimpered at his words, panic piercing through your veins. And then the window caught your gaze, breeze sliding through the slightly ajar panel.
Something soared in you, and your knees forced themselves against the bed, trying to reach it.
A thick hand slammed your head to the pillow, soft and silky and suffocating, and your back arched painfully.
Javier growled, delivering a sharp slap to your ass that sent your body squirming even harder. “Do you have any idea- slap - of what Joel could do - slap - if I told what you just did?”
Your backside was on fire as you yelped in pain, fingers gripping the sheets. You couldn’t even blubber a response.
Javier body jerked as he called out “Whiskey!” to the door.
His back up came quickly, excitedly even. A few steps later, you heard the texan drawl, “nice ass,” he complimented, you flinched.
“Hold the bitch down, do me a favor.” Javier grunted; soon you were manhandled onto your back, the cowboy gripping your wrists single-handedly onto the bed as you squirmed.
Your eyes hardened at them, twitching from one to the other in despair. Javier slid his slim waist between your thighs, keeping them spread like a jack as his hand fisted his cock.
Heightened by your close attempt at freedom, you gritted your teeth and growled. “Get off me.”
Javier tutted mockingly, eyebrow raising in irony as he bent slightly, angling his cock to your core. The hot, heavy tip was wedged in between your folds, and he watched the hot flush roll back your eyes. “You won’t be asking me that in a matter of seconds, baby.”
His other hand propped your leg higher onto his torso, while his knee came down on your other thigh. He rubbed his mushroom tip on your clit with experienced precision, gawking at how your expression pained with desire.
Whiskey bit his lower lip, heat creeping to his chest and peeking from his dress shirt; your head snapped to the side as Javier slapped your pussy with his dick, a chuckle rumbling in his hungry chest.
“How long has it been since ya…?” Whiskey asked, voice in a deep, entranced drawl.
Javier’s eyes were trained on your cunt, slowly seeping arousal he forced out. Yet he responded, casually; “four months, one of the girls from Jackson, a neighborhood whore.”
Your interest peaked at his words, slowly as you took in what he meant. Through the swirling feeling that overtook your mind each time he pressed onto you, your thoughts screamed.
One of the girls
Were there more of you? If so, what had happened to them?
Jackson
That was close to your community, or used to be close, your Dad had told you about exporting old shit there and charging it full price.
Could Jackson possibly, be close to their camp?
“Aw puppy, don’t get jealous.” Whiskey chided, and you realize your gaze had turned back to them, furrowed in intrigue. “you’re the only set of hole we are gonna use for now.”
You were about to swallow hardly, but a gasp left your lips as Javier perched his tip at your entrance, walls clenching in protest. Your form began shaking again, straining against Whiskey’s grip.
Javier’s adam apple bobbed as his head fell back, muttering a series of curses as he felt your cunt pushing him away. The hand that wasn’t on your thigh traced a path to the heaving mounds of your breast, fingers wrapping around a bud and pulled. Your back arched, pushing more of his cock in. You spasmed, unable to get away from him.
“Fucking good pussy,” Javier praised, anchoring his weight on a handful grasp at your tit as his hips thrusted, sheathing his long cock into your canal with one stroke. “j-jesus christ!”
You screeched at his invading length, the sound coming out more breathy than intended. You barely caught your breath before Javier pinned his weight onto you, knees stabbing into the bed as his hips begun jack-rabbiting into your tight, warm heat.
His breath fanned over your neck, and he pressed his moans against the soft skin there. His body became damp on top of you, and his soft dark curls stuck to your face.
Your fluttering eyes found Whiskey’s dark stare, tongue jutted out in desire as he watched your lips part as moans overtook you.
The bed creaked from his relentless fucking, and the room begun pouring the scent of sex. He dragged against your walls mixing pleasure with pain and curving so sinfully deliciously into your softness- he grunted like an animal against your neck.
Suddenly, his wandering hands halted and propped himself up on the bed, body inches away from yours as his thrusts deepened.
His gaze lingered from your face to your neck, teeth grinding. “You think Joel will get mad if I leave a mark?” He asked his mate, eyes trained on your heaving chest.
Fear widened your eyes, but they quickly closed back as his hands found your hips, lifting them from the bed.
Whiskey hesitated, a hand on your wrists and the other palming through the thick denim of his jeans. The idea of seeing your splattered with marks, with their claim, sent him growling. “Not really, he didn’t say shit about tha’.”
Javier agreed half heartedly, head disappearing into the junction of your shoulder and neck. His teeth grazed the skin, making you whimper, before he finally bit into it.
You screamed, and his tongue was quick to lap at the oozing blood, humming deliciously at the taste. The throbbing sent your body taut, cunt squeezing him like a vice.
His hand shot next to Whiskey’s, taking the grip on his own as he used it at as anchor to increase his force. The Cowboy quickly unzipped his jeans, cock painfully hard bobbing against the linen of his shirt before his hand could wrap around it.
Javier’s body became sticky with sweat, and he lifted his t-shirt as he grounded the patch of hair above his cock into your swollen clit. You mewled, legs spreading almost against your will.
“Touch her,” He ordered the men beside her, whose eyebrow raised in amusement. “make her cum.”
“N-no!” you attempted to squeal, muffled by the fuzziness of your brain. All you could think about was Javier’s weight and his pistoning length, filling you, splitting you.
And Whiskey obeyed with a mischievous grin, hand slipping through the clash of clammy skin until he could press his calloused fingers into the soft nerve at the apex of your core.
Your back arched once again, closing the space he was supposed to work with. But he wasn’t done; his hand splayed at your mound, forcing you to feel how deep Javier was, and two fingers rubbed furiously at your clit.
Arousal and shame came in equal waves and your legs shivered as you became putty under them, moans and whimpers slipping out with much to do about it.
“Look at her,” Whiskey panted, sweat beading at his hairline. “moaning like a good whore, finally.”
Javier smirked against your skin to his words, releasing a fold of flesh he had marred as he spoke. “can’t believe this cunt is still so tight, gonna fill it up real nice, leave her dripping for days. Joel’s gonna fuck her next Monday and feel my cum sloshing around this slutty pussy.”
And then, Javier sucked and bit at your neck and chest, over your hammering heart. Whiskey’s third finger delved downwards, prodding at where his comrade was spearing into you.
The stretch of his invasion and Javier’s lips wrapping around your jaw sent your head slamming into the pillow and a wave of heat over taking your body.
Overtaken by your sudden climax, both men hurried their ministrations to prolong the pleasure. As Whiskey’s hand stilled, Javier let out a guttural grunt before spilling into your clenching cunt.
The weight on your body multiplied, Javier almost limp and heaving on top of you as you felt wetness smear into your outer thigh, and Whiskey’s moan ringing in your ear.
