Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100
Warnings for age differences, child neglect, and a slight warning of child grooming that's honestly barely there-honestly, I'm not even sure if it counts as that, because I wrote the characters as not having any intentions at all with Clarke-Clarke's the one that pursues things after she's eighteen. And the "family friends" had no plans whatsoever.
Such good family friends
Her wrists were bound by chains, literal chains. The other ends of the chains were bound to the headboard of the bed she was laying on, on her stomach. There was a black leather collar around her neck. A collar that she would never wear in public, for fear of her mother seeing the collar and asking questions. There was a ball gag in her mouth, the strap buckled behind her head. Hands had a hold of her hips, and she felt the snapping of hips behind her, the thick, black, silicone strap-on thrusting harder and faster by the second.
The strap had previously been greatly lubricated with actual lube, however, Clarke was beginning to wonder if it had really been a necessity, as she was so wet that the strap might have been able to slip in on its own.
She felt Hela's hands grip her hips more tightly.
Hela said in amusement, and Clarke could practically feel the older woman's smirk, "You enjoy being pounded by us so much, don't you, kitten? So much that you would let every single one of us-all thirty of us use you like a toy, wouldn't you?"
Clarke groaned, the sound muffled by the ball gag.
Well, Hela certainly was right about that.
Clarke could sense the presence of the others in the room around them. Waiting their turns.
There were several containers of lube nearby. And many packets of condoms next to those containers.
Hela had decided that she'd get the first round with Clarke, and would fight anyone who said otherwise.
But the others were awaiting their turns.
After Hela, there still were Bruce, Elektra, Sam, Steve, Tony, Pepper, Natasha, Yelena, Melina, Laura, Clint, Barney, Simone, Luke, Danny, Jessica, Peggy, Carol, Maria, Brunnhilde, Sylvie, Thor, Loki, Rhodey, Wanda, Pietro, Frank, Stephen and Christine.
Twenty-four-year-old Clarke Griffin…she knew what she was doing was several levels of wrong.
But she couldn't help it.
She had needs like everyone.
She bet that if she was a man, no one would blame her for a second.
Eight years ago, when she was sixteen years old, her mother had met all these people at work. And for several months she got to know them.
Clarke had come to realize that Abby had hoped to mooch money off of these fellow employees of her mother's, because these people were much better off than she was.
Over the years, the group had gotten to know the Griffin household. Clarke's father had died when Clarke had been ten years old, due to cancer.
And Abby had been happy to treat Clarke like a burden ever since.
Clearly, Abby had held back from fully treating Clarke like she was worthless, so that her dying husband couldn't see the truth of the type of person his wife was.
But Abby's fellow employees saw.
And whenever Abby wasn't around, these people would try to do nice things for her.
Clarke knew that they blamed themselves now for how things turned out. They knew that they thought of themselves as being sexual predators.
But they weren't.
Clarke knew what sexual predators were. She had done her research on them.
They hadn't done any "child grooming." Clarke had been sixteen when she had first met them.
And the times they had seen her before she had turned eighteen and had helped her, their intentions had been far from being that of people who intended to lure her into a relationship and have her depend on them.
If they were deceiving Clarke that whole time? Clarke honestly would have found it funny. Since she had been leading them on for the most part.
Since she'd turned eighteen, she kept reminding them that she was no longer a child. She would often dress provocatively, or the way society told her was provocative, even if it was entirely the fault of someone that touched another person against their will's fault, not the fault of how someone dressed.
All Clarke cared about was at least some of these thirty family friends, to want to get in her pants.
She hadn't intended to seduce them all, but…
Clarke could feel herself getting closer and closer with each of Hela's savage thrusts and Clarke knew that Hela was getting close too.
Hela groaned out as the strap she had inside Clarke, brushed faster and faster against Clarke's clit, "I imagine if you'd known you would be receiving a pounding from all thirty of us, you might not have flirted with us so readily, sweet little slut."
Clarke moaned both at the words and at Hela's thrusts, as she felt herself cum hard, clenching around the strap inside her.
She heard Hela moan and felt Hela stiffen up, then felt Hela thrust in faster and Clarke knew that the older woman had just cum too.
Hela finally pulled out of Clarke, after Clarke was done squeezing around the toy and feeling more cum spill out, down her inner thighs.
Hela had been pounding Clarke for a while now. She had made Clarke cum four times now.
"I suspect you'd like to call me 'mommy,' but that gag is stopping you," Hela remarked, and again? Clarke could sense the smirk on Hela's face.
Clarke tried not to snort.
Hela was right, of course.
Clarke had mommy issues deeper than any ocean in the world.
Her mother, Abby Griffin, had always treated Clarke like trash. Even when Jake was alive? Abby had done what she could to be cold to Clarke-she had just been more subtle about it, when Jake had been alive.
So, yes, Clarke had serious mommy issues.
And if this ball gag wasn't in her mouth? She'd be howling "mommy," every time Hela thrust deep into her.
"Well," Elektra announced and Clarke heard the snapping of a buckle and knew that Elektra had just fitted herself with a. strap, and watched as Elektra's arm extended out, grabbing the container of lube off of the shelf in front of Clarke, "Now, you get to wish that you could call me, 'mommy,' bitch."
Clarke moaned, imagining how hard Elektra would fuck her.
She heard the lewd sounds of the lube being smeared all over the strap, then watched as the container was placed back down on the table, and Clarke fought a muffled gasp, as she felt her hips being grabbed and felt herself being propped up on her knees, feeling a lubricated silicone tip being placed at her vaginal entrance.
She heard Elektra say, "Slam your hands against the bed twice if you want this to stop."
Clarke again fought a snort. Since she currently was gagged, a verbal form of telling this to all stop, was of course, out of the question.
But a non-verbal safeword had been ordered. Clarke was to slam her hands against the bed twice, if she wanted the "scene" to stop.
Clarke didn't want this to stop at all.
She wanted her "family friends," to fuck her brains out ruthlessly and treat her like a toy. The fact that her mother trusted these people? Made it all the more delicious to her.
When Clarke shook her head, she heard a series of laughs, including Elektra's, then she cried out loudly into the ball gag, when she felt Elektra push her lubed up cock into her slowly.
She made a muffled yelp, when the strap went all the way in, up to the hilt.
Clarke let out a muffled whimper and closed her eyes as Elektra began her brutal pace.
The many rounds went on.
The women used their straps, lubed them up and fucked Clarke senseless.
The men unzipped themselves, put condoms on and lubed themselves up and fucked Clarke senseless too.
When Clarke at last collapsed, slowly drifting off, Bruce pulled the blanket over Clarke's unconscious form and Frank went to get some water from the fridge, Natasha pulled her pants back on and said quietly, beginning to put her bra back on, as well, "You know that we have to tell her soon, don't you?"
She was addressing everyone else.
"We know," Steve said, pulling his boxers and pants back on, and he looked at Clarke with softness, "She won't take it well, you know that, right?"
"Oh, we know," Jessica snorted, smirking.
Clarke saw this relationship as just a "fun thing." For her? It was like all the fun things in the world, she'd get by having sex with people her mother knew.
Sexual pleasure, being able to mock her mother behind Abby's back, and feel like she was all grown-up. Which yes, technically speaking, Clarke was physically grown-up, at least. But she was playing games.
But this wasn't a game for the people she allowed to fuck her brains out regularly.
"How are we gonna to explain this to her?" Clint asked, taking a swig of the beer that his brother had handed to him.
"We'll explain it in the way we decided to do before," Pepper said, shrugging as she pulled her shirt on over her pale shoulders and began buttoning it back up, "We tell her the truth. That we fell in love with her the more we spent time with her, after she turned eighteen, and that we've loved her for years now. And that if she wants this relationship to continue or be anything, she needs to realize that we're in love with her. And that she isn't obligated to love us back."
She received several nods, but not much when it came to verbal response.
They all agreed on this. Clarke didn't have to love them back. Frank came back with the cup of water and sat down next to Clarke, propped her up and tipped the cup and had Clarke drink some of the water.
After Frank did this, he laid Clarke down and placed the cup onto the table next to the bed.
Clarke in no way was obligated to love them back. They just wanted her to know that they loved her and would do anything for her.
When they first had met her years ago, when she had been sixteen, they had thought she was a brilliant and sweet girl. And had deeply felt for her, seeing how Clarke's mother treated her. What was more, they felt unnerved, wondering that if the way Clarke's mother treated her like that in public, how did Abby treat Clarke when Clarke and Abby were alone together.
It made them angry too. So, they made a point of looking out for her.
They hadn't had any sexual inclination for her. Not then. That would have been disgusting.
She was a child then. Even if there were some countries and even some states in the United States that decided that sixteen was the "age of consent," they did not agree with such a thing.
It was wrong, even if there were some laws in some countries and some states in the United States that said it was okay.
Then years later when Clarke was eighteen and she began acting in provocative manners and dressing provocatively, they knew exactly what she was doing and tried to ignore her pursuing of them.
Then when Clarke was twenty, it finally bubbled over.
Bruce Banner had been the first to snap.
Abby had been away at work-or so she claimed, Clarke had come back from a party, and she had gone to Bruce's house, talking loudly about how she had thought about his face between her legs the whole time she had been dancing at the party she'd been at.
Bruce had a lazy day off from work and was just in his boxers and had no shirt or anything else on, when Clarke had come to his home. Bruce had known it was a bad idea to let Clarke into his house, but he had and had closed and locked the door and led Clarke into the living room.
And Clarke had pulled her underwear down, had pulled up her skirt, made sure that Bruce had to look at her cunt.
Clarke was of age-twenty years old. She wasn't intoxicated. They all knew that Clarke hated the taste of alcohol, so, they knew that. And Bruce knew that Clarke was throwing herself at him and he knew it would be wrong to fuck her.
And yet…
Bruce had been seated on his couch, had watched Clarke showing off that "immodest display." And the feelings not to mention the desire he felt for her, just went over the edge.
He got up from the couch and had marched over to Clarke.
Clarke had watched him, her blue eyes growing large as she realized that she was about to enter something that was over her head.
Bruce had stood over her, and had gripped her hips and had herded her into the kitchen and lifted her up onto the counter of his kitchen and had leaned down, staring up at Clarke as Clarke watched him and Bruce could practically feel the young woman's pounding heart.
Bruce had said calmly to the twenty-year-old woman, "Say yes or no, Clarke. Because I'm warning you, Clarke, the only way to stop this, is to tell me no now. Otherwise? If you tell me yes? Then I'm not stopping until you pass out."
Clarke's mouth had dropped at that.
Clarke hadn't said anything for several seconds, so much to the point that actual minutes may have passed.
Bruce did not move. The only way he would move his head between Clarke's legs was if Clarke said "yes," and the only way that she would move away, was if Clarke said "no."
When Bruce began suspecting that Clarke might actually be scared to say "no," because she might be worried that Bruce might hurt her if she said "no," Bruce nodded and began to move back from the blond woman.
But then Clarke spoke.
When Clarke spoke, her one word was almost a whisper, but Bruce heard it as if it were a loud shout.
Clarke said, "Yes."
Bruce snapped his head to stare at Clarke, and Clarke spread her legs wider, swallowing and whispering practically, "Yes. Please, daddy…"
And you know, it was a sign just of how much of a dirty old man Bruce was, but the "daddy" part, made him finally lose it.
He dove his head down, under Clarke's black skirt, pushing his face between Clarke's pale, beautiful, thick thighs, and dragged his tongue all along Clarke's clit.
Clarke screamed, arching against Bruce, her back pressing against the kitchen cabinets.
Her eyes squeezed shut as she screamed.
Bruce as he lapped between Clarke's legs, kept eating her out, kept licking. He couldn't stop.
His hands squeezed Clarke's thighs as he licked at her cunt, licked around Clarke's hole and licked her vulvae and licked her clit. He licked hungrily like someone who hadn't been fed in years.
He had wanted to lick between Clarke's for years now. No, not since before she was eighteen, because that was awful. But ever since he had formed feelings and sexual desire for her. After she had begun all the sexual suggestions…and when he had begun to see the longing in her for someone to look after her.
He looked at her cunt and clit hungrily, licking, licking, licking, ignoring Clarke trying to push his head away, addicted to her moans turning into sobs as she helplessly bucked into his mouth.
Finally, Clarke passed out, and Bruce pulled out from between her legs, and picked her up, held her and carried Clarke to his bed, laying her down gently and laying a blanket over her. He had then went to the kitchen to get some water to give to her as she slept. He'd hold her upright so that she didn't choke.
Needless to say? Bruce had been hard the whole time. But he hadn't used his cock. Only after giving Clarke some water, had he gone to the bathroom, reached into his boxers, pulled his boxers down and jerked off into the shower, thinking of being buried inside Clarke, feeling her ride him and imagining her calling him "daddy" the whole time as she bounced up and down on his cock.
Bruce had felt plenty of guilt, alright.
But some part of him was certain that hearing how much pleasure he had brought Clarke, had been worth the guilt.
Now, Bruce's friends and the others who Clarke had offered herself to in the past, when they were around Bruce or Clarke or both of them and saw their interactions? They weren't stupid. They knew what was going on.
Unsurprisingly, more than a few of them were ready get onboard as well, since all of them had come to have romantic feelings for Clarke and sexual longing for her, as well. It was just that some of them were more willing to enter into a relationship with a much younger woman than others.
It surprised no one that all eight Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Hela Odinsdotter, Natasha Romanoff, Loki Laufeyson, Sylvie Laufeysdotter and Barney and Simone Barton, were the first to be ready to fuck Clarke's brains out.
They had made it clear to Clarke that if she didn't want to, she could always say "no," and there was no pressure and they would respect her right to refuse and not force anything.
But Clarke hadn't said "no." She had given a very, very enthusiastic yes to them and to Bruce.
And then the very first orgy between them had proceeded.
Bruce had fingered her, coming against her leg. Pepper had thrust her strap against Clarke against the wall, Tony had replaced her as soon as Pepper was finished fucking Clarke into the wall. Barney had gone down to his knees and had eaten Clarke out several times, humping her leg and getting himself off as he did so. Simone had practically fisted her. Hela had fucked Clarke into the bed with her strap. Sylvie and Loki had fucked her from each end; Loki fucking her ass and Sylvie fucking her cunt with her strap. And Natasha had pulled Clarke down onto her lap and had pressed a vibrator against Clarke's cunt and clit the whole time as Clarke screamed and moaned.
They had put a safeword in place before the start of it, to make sure Clarke had a way out. But Clarke had never said it.
And as time went on, more and more of the men and women Clarke had been interested in, saw less of an excuse not to fuck her, considering they all wanted to be with her.
And it went on, for years.
Then there was that far too pleasurable time when they'd had Clarke arms bound behind her back, her mouth gagged and had a vibrator inside her cunt and had used a remote control to overstimulate her over the hours as they sat around the bed where Clarke was, bouncing on the dark blue, silicone, vibrating dildo with ridges all over it.
They had each placed a chair in a circle around the bed, each of them pressing the dials on the vibrator's remote, making the vibrator inside Clarke go faster and faster, making Clarke cry out and moan into the gag, arching her back, her eyes closed as she came and came again, as those holding the remote of the vibrator overstimulated their pet.
And no, it wasn't an insult to call Clarke "pet," not by them. She made it very clear that she enjoyed that.
And they just listened to the delicious muffled "Mmm-mmm-mm," sounds she made with each stroke of the dildo inside her and against her clit.
And on and on it went.
But there was a problem? Their love had intensified over the years.
And if Clarke felt the same way? She was keeping it a secret.
Clarke went to a college nearby her mother's home and had graduated. To no one's surprise, save for the teachers', Clarke's own mother hadn't shown up for the graduation ceremony.
The maximum people that could be at the graduation ceremony were four. And those that had shown up, had been Laura and Clint Barton and Bruce Banner and Melina Vostokoff.
when the website had asked what the relationship was between Clarke and the four people she was inviting, she had put down, "family friends."
All four Laura, Clint, Bruce and Melina, had been happy to be there and had applauded when they had seen Clarke go up to get her diploma.
Clarke might have loved drawing and painting, but she was practical. She knew people who were in the arts, rarely got a reliable job.
It was why Clarke had gotten a degree that worked more with teaching than anything else. She had no skill with the sciences, and loved things like art, writing and history. So, she'd taken as many classes as she could in history. But she knew any jobs she took, wouldn't pay a lot. Because the United States' willingness fund the arts and teaching, was pitiable, compared to how much was devoted to the sciences.
Her fuck buddies had all offered a way to support her, but Tony and Pepper had come up with the best answer. Clarke could work at his and Pepper's company and they'd write up an agreement where Clarke had a way to use the law against them, should she ever feel like she was being abused by the company or by the two employers of hers who she entered into a relationship with.
Clarke was skeptical at first, but after the agreement was written up and Clarke had signed it, making it clear that Tony and Pepper without question, were to pay her a huge sum of money, should Clarke ever feel disadvantaged by them or taken advantage of by them, the relationship had proceeded.
It had been years since it had started.
And now…they didn't know how to even begin to tell her how much they loved her. How much they hoped that even if she didn't love them back? That she would stay with them. Live with them at the shared apartment they had purchased, far away from Abby. That even though they knew that there was no law that would ever allow her to marry all thirty of them, that they all wanted to live with her, to be with her always.
They hoped she could accept that. Even if she didn't love them back.
They would never force her to live with them, even if they wished for it with all their hearts.
An hour went by, then they heard Clarke mumble quietly, as she woke up.
"Hello, sweetie," Pepper said, smiling at Clarke, as Clarke started to get up, rubbing at her eyes sleepily, "Sleep well?"
Clarke nodded and yawned. "I did," she mumbled, as she stopped yawning, "Thank you."
Pepper and the others shared a look. They all wondered the same thing. Should they tell her now?
Clarke pushed her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet touching the floor as she said, "I should probably head back to the house, before Abby gets back."
That was how Clarke had spoken of Abby and of the house that Abby owned, for years now.
To Clarke? Her biological mother was "Abby" not "mom." And the house that they lived in was just "the house," not "home." For a house to be a home, there had to be acceptance. Amongst a lot of other things. None of which was ever given to Clarke by Abby.
It was why Clarke referred to Abby and to the house they lived in together, as that. You couldn't have a home without any of the things that Clarke needed. And Abby was unwilling to give them.
But Clarke's lovers weren't. Clarke might not be willing to change "fuck buddies" to "lovers." But it was just fact by this point.
They loved her. Passionately. And they were her lovers, even if Clarke refused to see them as anything more than fuck buddies.
"Clarke," Tony said quietly, appearing uncharacteristically awkward, "Look, there's something we need to tell you."
Clarke eyed him, then nodded. "Oh," she said, knowing that this day had been approaching, and tried to ignore the pain that thrust into her chest at the notion, "All of you are breaking up with me. I figured that would happen after you all got everything you wanted out of me."
Tony's eyes got huge at that and several of the others gawked at her or stepped back, appearing hurt.
"What?" Sam asked, looking at Clarke as if she had just decided to slap him.
Clarke nodded to all of them. "You're going to break up with me, right? It's okay. I get it," Clarke gave them a nasty smirk, not wanting them to know how much what she knew was coming, would hurt her.
"Come on," she said, "Just admit it. I can take it, promise. So, just tell me you're going to break up with me and get it over with."
"You-" Peggy began, staring at Clarke as if she felt like Clarke had just said something unforgivable.
Hela didn't wait for anyone else to move or speak.
She moved across the room, just in her bra and underwear, reached out and grabbed Clarke's hair roughly with her right hand, startling the younger woman, but Hela moved in, lowering her head and kissing Clarke roughly, tongue pushing inside Clarke's mouth, getting a startled moan from the blond.
Hela pulled away as her hand went to the collar around Clarke's neck, and curled her fingers around it as she met Clarke's startled eyes.
"You have a lot of nerve accusing us of leaving you," Hela growled, "The only way we would leave you is if you told us to leave you. That's it. It has to be up to you and it won't happen otherwise."
Clarke's eyes widened.
"We love you," Hela said, her voice hard, "We don't care if you just want us to hurt your mother. We want to be with you. We want you to be with us. You just have to decide what to do with that, you stubborn brat."
Clarke stared at the older woman, stunned.
Steve spoke then, trying to keep his voice soft, "Clarke, do you want to leave us?"
Clarke stiffened and looked over at Steve, then glanced back at Hela.
Clarke's mouth dropped. These people loved her. She had intended for only them to be fuck buddies and nothing else.
But she knew that she had come to feel more for them. Much more.
But she kept trying to tell herself that it was only to mock her mother. But even she knew better.
She looked at these people that had become such an intricate part of her life.
They loved her. They loved her back.
She searched their faces and knew that they weren't lying to her.
She swallowed hard.
She knew she needed to make a choice, and knew what she was going to choose.
Unable to do anything else, she nodded and climbed onto Hela's lap and kissed the older woman deeply.
She heard many pleased chuckles all around her.
Looking to each other, Elektra said, smirking, "Too bad for Abby. She doesn't have to know."
"No, the bitch doesn't," Yelena agreed, looking at Clarke happily, "We can take care of Clarke. For always."
The group collectively grinned as Clarke moaned into Hela's mouth as the older woman reached between Clarke's legs and began fingering the young woman.