#CW noncon

[islandofthedollz]

❤︎Get well soon ❤︎

⁠❥TW: Rape, Somnophilia, Non-Con |MDNI

Curly’s precious little sister is really sick your caring brother making sure your every need is met. Curly notices that your low on medication but he doesn’t wanna leave you alone so he calls Jimmy and see if he can take care of you while he picks up you’re medication. Jimmy agrees.

Curly tells Jimmy that you have 1 pill left Jimmy nods. Jimmy walks over you your room he sees you snuggled up watching tv. “Hey kid” he sluggishly says leaning on your door frame. “Hi Jimmy” you say as you turn your head to cough. Jimmy wrinkles his nose in disgust he walks out of your room yelling at you that he’s gonna come back with your medication.

Jimmy walks to the kitchen sees the fridge full of pictures of you and curly. He looks at the pictures of you. What a slut he thinks always wearing shorts the hug your ass and low cut shirts and dresses to tease him. He snaps out of his thought and remembered his special pill for you. Jimmy gets water and walks over to your room. He hands you the pill and water. You look at the pill looking different then the ones curly gives you. “Why is it a different color?”

Jimmy sighs he grabs the bridge of his nose “ Curly said these are the extra strength ones their supposed to assist your regular medication. You don’t question it Jimmy has never ever told you a lie plus if your big brother said it why doubt it. You grab the medication from Jimmy’s calloused hands. You take the medication washing it down with water. Jimmy and sets a timer on his phone for 10 minutes.

Time skip to 10 minutes

Jimmy walks into your room and sees you asleep perfect the thinks. He takes off your covers only a long short covering you. Jimmy’s hands roam your legs he lifts your shirt and sees your panties his has touches it rubbing your clit up and down. He looks up and sees you knocked out cold.

He slides your panties off and starts sucking and licking your clit he hears a small moan from you. What a filthy girl it’s like you’re basically telling him to fuck you. What type of man would he be ignoring this kind of request. He quickly takes his belt off lowing his rough jeans and boxers. He pumps his cock a few time Jimmy doesn’t bothering prepping you. He grabs your hips digging his nails into your delicate soft skin and thrust him self roughly. Jimmy tilts his head back enjoying how warm your pussy is from your fever.

You tensed up in your sleep at a foreign invasion inside your cunt, before the medicine he gave you succumbed your body back into the dreamland. After a few thrust Jimmy was in a trance how tight your warm walls squeezed him you want this you need him to fill you up. Jimmy stopped caring about waking you up.

He started at a rough pace, gripping your legs tightly in his hands as he pounded your - no, his - cunt. Yes, you’d be his cumdump from now on. He knew he could be manipulative when he wanted to, he would have you as his perfect little cocksleeve sooner rather than later. He should have done this much much sooner. Jimmy speed up sped up again, ramming into you as fast as he could. He felt your body shudder and jolt.

He leaned down to bite at your lips when his dick twitched. He stopped balls deep inside you, cuming with a loud groan. He pulled out of you white cum dribbling out of your pussy he quickly pulled out his phone taking a picture of your destroyed pussy. Jimmy puts his pants back on and lowers your shirt and walks down stairs turning on the tv. A few minutes later curly walks in with medication.

“Sorry about the long wait Jim I got stuck in traffic I hope she wasn’t too much trouble for you” curly says scratching the back of his head. Jimmy gets up from the couch “the brat wasn’t to much trouble she’s asleep in her bed”. Jimmy gets his keys “see ya” Jimmy slams the door closed before curly can say anything.

[imthedr3amer]

[My tags: SPN, Explicit, Rape/Non-Con, Top Dean/Bottom Sam, Scene Gone Wrong, Hurt/No Comfort, Consent Play, Restraints, Painful Sex, Safeword/Signal Failure]

For the love of all that is good and Wincestie in the world, OP, please continue this. Please. I beg. Please. 🙏🔥🙏💀🙏🫠

hi !! wincest fic idea :) cnc that turns into actual rape <3

tw: CNC, r4pe, inc3st

note: thought about writing this all day, thinking of furthering it some other day but this is what I came up with in about 30 minutes just now from the itch to write it <3 tell me what you think, would love your thoughts. (I am working on all other suggestions/prompts, dw you're not forgotten)

Sam's head was pushed down, air knocked out of his lungs as Dean's rough hands carded through his hair, fingers gripping in a tight hold to keep him there and yet he fought against the hold, desperately trying to climb up for air but his brother never let up.

"No-no, no, no-" He muffled into the pillow hand coming up to dig his nails into Dean's wrist who hissed in return, pulling him and pulling Sam's back to his chest.

"I told you I could've been more gentle if you were nicer, laying down like the whore you are. But no, no you want to fight back." His rough tone rang in Sam's ear and he was shoved down again, rough and mean.

He could hear the clink of the belt being taken off behind him, and it was like everything moved slowly, his hands clawing at the sheet as he attempted to move away but it was fruitless, truly. Dean was right behind, grabbing at the hands that tried their best to reach for freedom.

Sam may be bigger, taller but Dean was always stronger, able to round him up and move him how he pleased.

"Please, I'm sorry, please Dean, no-'' He cried out when his arm twisted behind his back. "No, please, I don't want to, Please-" the belt fastened around his wrist, tight enough to burn from the rough drag and dig of leather in his skin. And then Dean's hands were back onto him, rough and calloused as it pushed his front into the bed, other hand going to Sam's pants buttons, opening with haste, so easy - like Sam was free access to begin with.

And Dean treated him like that, pulling down his pants and boxers mid-thigh and he was exposed. It was embarrassing how his cock was red and throbbing between his legs, it was embarrassing how he whined when the cold air rushed to him. 

He was reacting so well - like a true whore, Dean had thought as he took the disappointingly average cock in hand, giving a few dry jerks just to hear his little brother cry, leg kick out. He was always too sensitive for his own good. But good god did it make Dean twitch in his own boxers.

Sam could kick and cry out all he wanted but he enjoyed this, he wanted it. It was their little game after all. Big mean older brother Dean taking advantage of his little brother Sam who wouldn't want to hurt Dean too much to even properly protect himself. He was just Dean's baby, his toy. Always was and always will be.

So it wasn't surprising when Sam's tip began to leak when Dean dragged his nails down Sam's back, watching the red marks leave in their absence. Maybe it was wrong, the things it did to him when he saw it. 

Dean pushed down his own pants and underwear just enough to slip out his cock, his slowly moved his hand from the middle of Sam's his ass, and just as he reached his ass, pulling his cheek to the side enough to get him a view of his hole, and that really got Sam to start a kicking mess again. And just as the first kick went out, little "no's" coming from his lips, Dean's hand landed harshly against the skin of ass, a red blooming under his palm and skin heating up.

But he didn't stop at one, he did it again, and again until all Sam was cry a couple of tears and finally stopped fighting against him, shaking legs giving up the hell they were raising.

Sam could feel the ache of his ass and it made his cock pulse, so close to the edge. But the pain wasn't over, a few little "no, no's" passed his lips before there was the feeling of a wet and blunt tip against his hole and he gasped, legs seizing - he was frozen, and scared and Dean was pushing in, liquid hot fire flooded his veins as the ache ran up his spine the further he forced his way in.

It wasn't right, something was wrong- it was never like this before, he couldn't explain it but he couldn't speak, the hands tied behind his back were tapping against Dean's abdomen, in the three tap pattern Dean swore he'd notice and stop at - that the play was over. Sam was gasping desperately for the little air he had to fill his lungs because he just couldn't breathe.

Dean was pulling out, and Sam waited and waited for the coo's and care that was to come but it didn't - "Awe, you're bleeding baby." he pushed back in and again and again - he wasn't stopping, not like he promised.

The pain was too much, like a never ending fire. Sam fought against the restraint, pulling desperately at them to get his hands free, to crawl and fight away. But the belt simply rubbed his wrist raw and he sobbed an honest sob. His throat was raw from it alone, dry and sore. He cried out for his brother, wanting his aid and not his pain.

"-hurt's, it hurts, hurt's, Dean, angh-" The air rushed out of him just as it had come. He couldn't remember what he was meant to say, couldn't remember the safe word.

Why didn't he stop when he tapped? Why did he keep going?

He tried tapping again, pressing against Dean's abdomen as it came again and again. Impaling him so deep it was all he could feel, all he could think about - about how much it hurt. How wrong, wrong, wrong it was. His thighs were shaking and they were aching. The only thing keeping them up was the death grip of Dean's hands on his hips.

Sam feverishly shook his head in the pillow, tears falling one after the other. 

But it was like Dean was too caught up in the way Sam wrapped around him, sucking him in further - tighter than usual and it was just too good to stop, not when the tears and panic of Sam's shaking added to the pleasure coursing through his veins.

He would take what he wanted, he always would and will. So that's what he was doing. One hand grabbing onto the belt of the restricted hands and going deeper, drilling in until he truly couldn't go any further, pulling him to meet his hips in each thrust to hear the guttural groan that fell from his baby brother's lips.

To say he was obsessed with Sam's ass was an understatement, he was addicted. The little sobs and babble of words fueled him on. Only he could do this to Sam, no one else could have him, make him into the mess he is. He owned Sam.

At some point, Sam's struggles and fighting began to cease, just laying limp. He had no fight left in him, choking on his own tears with groans climbing up his throat. There was never a spark of pleasure, it was like someone was ripping apart his insides. The zipper of Dean's jeans digging into his skin with every thrust, he wouldn't be surprised if he was bleeding from it alone. The raw rubbing of cloth against the back of his thighs was bordering painful.

He waited, waited after every thrust, every groan from Dean that he would stop, that this would be the last, that he would pull out and acknowledge him, apologize, anything, he'd accept anything if he would just stop.

But it didn't, it dragged for what felt like hours. He didn't even notice when Dean was done, filling him up raw with his cum, groaning "fuck" mindlessly as his hips stuttered inside of him. The white mess leaked out of him, mixing with the blood to create a pink as it dribbled down his thighs.

And he's never felt so numb, so used, so discarded as Dean simply pulled up his jeans like it was just another night. Like he didn't care.

But, like a kicked puppy, Sam called out for him in a rough and broken voice. "De-an." 

After all, Dean was all he had. All he wanted. All he needed.

[duskier]

cw dubcon / noncon voyeurism

Ghost keeps fucking you in the safe houses at night. He swears none of the other men can hear you guys despite all uncomfortably packed into one small room, they all sleep like the dead. Just let him fuck you a little, he swears he can't sleep without it. Peeling your sleep pants off to pull you onto his lap, making you ride him reverse cowgirl.

Spearing you on his cock and you're clapping a hand over your mouth from how full you feel in this position, hips jerking when you feel Ghost grab your ass in the dark. He's thrusting his hips up and into you, all you can do is lean back against him and take it. Trying to keep your mouth quiet but you can't control the lewd schlicking noise that accompanies every thrust.

You're getting fucked too good, too deep to notice Gaz stroking his cock slow and thorough under his blanket, to see Soap’s eyes glinting in the moonlight staring you down as he ruts into his makeshift bed, to catch Price as he's cupping his balls and rolling his hips to thrust into his other hand.

[quarterlifekitty]

Simon as the embodiment of that bullshit saying about boys only making fun of you when they like you.

He doesn’t know how to deal with what he’s feeling, never got naturalized to affection. The problem is that the shit he says can, in no way, be called making fun.

He says shit that digs deep. It fuckin’ hurts. Not where anyone else but you can hear, but they can all see the way you cautiously regard him like he’s a fuse ready to be lit, turning tail when he enters a room.

He’ll crowd you if he finds you alone. Remind you of all the strength and build he holds over you. How he could crush you like an oyster cracker, and in his eyes, you’d deserve it.

So why, why does his scowl deepen when you put into the request to transfer out of the task force? You figured he’d be cheering, or as close as his gloomy ass can get to it. That he’d tell you not to let the door hit your ass on the way out.

You didn’t think he’d be waiting in the dark of your room with a chest heaving in anger, throwing an arm around your waist to keep you still as he shut and locked the door behind you.

[angstinyourpants]

a ghost fucking you in public but no one can see them, so youre just getting railed in front of everyone and have to keep a straight face. a ghost using their ghost powers to come into your room without opening the door while youre touching yourself so they can watch without you knowing. a ghost possessing your computer and seeing all the porn you watch, read or even listen to and using that to humiliate you. a ghost-

[mynahx3]

I'll Make You Better, Baby 1.5k

This is a lil drabble of @meo-eiru elf OC Silas. The lil cutie just wants to take care of his little human Hope everyone enjoys!! Got inspired after getting sick ;-;

WARNINGS: Noncon oral (male receiving), forced infantilization, implied kidnapping, implied prior noncon, weird misunderstood mom/ baby relationship, Silas does not understand his feelings for reader lol GN! Reader

Being sick had to be one of the worst things to happen at this very moment. It hurt to move; you barfed almost everything you ate, and all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep until you felt better.

When it happened before, you would stay home from work. Recover bundled in your bed with a plethora of medications on your nightstand, maybe with a cup of tea or two to soothe your aching throat. Either sleep the day away or spend the time bingeing your favorite show.

Things like that took time for you to get better, but they were conventional.

Now if someone told you that you'd be forced into the care of a delusional elf after getting lost in the enchanted forest, you'd call them crazy. But here you were, being pampered as he insisted on feeding you strange concoctions, doting on you like a mother would.

Only a mother wouldn't be doing this to their child.

Silas currently had you on the bed, bundled in the blanket, but you were on your knees. He stood at the foot of the bed; being as tall as he was, he loomed over you like a giant. His eyes were lovestruck and filled with tears as he guided your head up and down his length.

The taste of him was all over your tongue; a mix of his cum and drool went down your chin. Not bad, per say; it tasted sweeter with a hint of saltiness, unlike any human you've ever been with.

His fingers were tangled in your hair as he assisted you, moving your head with a firm but gentle touch. Your mouth aches around him, and he barely went halfway; your throat felt raw and stretched as you took more and more of him in.

"Feels so good, my baby." Silas praised, his hips bucking more into your throat on accident. "Let me, let me help you."

The action made you gag, hands pushing harder on his hips. It was a miracle you could breathe with how much your nose was stopped up much less with his monster of a cock down your throat.

You closed your eyes and tried to relax, focusing on your breathing and blocking out the sensation of him filling you up. It was a task easier said than done. Silas moans above you, high and needy like always, long ears down and twitching; his entire face blushed a deep red.

When this was first proposed, you fought it, like always; your weak attempts did nothing to phase him. His strength compared to yours was like night and day; he easily picked you up from the floor where he found you in the bathroom after dinner.

Doting on you, cleaning you up after barfing, and then claiming he had to feed his baby. That he needed to give you your medicine.

You knew what that meant. Another session of swallowing his fluids. His blood. His cum. He tried to get you to drink milk from his large chest, but that didn't work, to his disappointment, so he had to make due. He was still trying to trigger his lactation to no avail.

Not much was known of the magical realm to humans, much less elves. Magical beings were said to have healing properties, but this way was… demeaning.

A choked sound comes from you; his hips move faster as he continues to force his fluids down your throat. You open your eyes, your hands pushing harder on his hips, trying to find the strength to pry yourself off him, but he only cooed at you sweetly.

With a hand over yours, he guided it along what didn't fit in your mouth, making it run along it smoothly. The taste was overwhelming, and his cock had a velvety texture over your tongue, making it difficult to resist the sensation. Letting out a muffled cry, you looked up at him, tears going down your cheeks, trying to convey your discomfort, but he only smiled down at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Just a little longer." He urged, moans escaping his lips as you gargled on his length. "A little longer and you'll feel better. Mommy will make you feel so good, I promise."

The sound of his voice was both soothing and unsettling, as you struggled to comply with his demands. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the taste of him becoming more unbearable with each passing second. But you knew you had no choice but to endure it, hoping that eventually it would all be over. As you fought back the urge to gag, his grip on your head tightened, pushing you further down.

Moaning in pleasure, he gently patted your hair, whispering words of encouragement that only added to your discomfort.

"Such a strong baby. You'll be full soon, so full and happy."

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to block out the sensations overwhelming you. With how fast he was moving and how loud he was, it wouldn't be long.

His hips stuttered, his breathing becoming more erratic as he reached his peak. The sound of his pleasure-filled moans filled the room, making your skin crawl even more.

As he finally came, your mouth was filled even more. The hot, fruity taste of his release made you gag, but you forced yourself to swallow it down, knowing there was no other choice.

"There you go, there you go." He encouraged, making sure to keep his hold on you until you swallowed every drop.

He was groaning as he felt your tongue travel along his length, sending shivers down his spine. He almost felt his knees give in from the sensations, but he held on, reveling in the pleasure you were giving him.

As he released his grip on you, you felt a wave of relief wash over you; this gave you the moment to gasp for air. The room fell silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing of both of you.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move as you tried to compose yourself. Harder for you than him. Although you were still experiencing headaches and body aches, at least your nausea had subsided. The frown was back on your face, something that you never really tried to hide anymore.

Silas wiped the remnants from your chin before kissing you gently, his tongue going into your mouth in a slow, sensual manner. He let the kiss go on for what felt like an eternity, his hands exploring your body with a gentle touch. Eventually, he pulled away with a soft smile, cupping your face as he pecked your nose, ignoring the way you glared at him.

"Come sleep with mommy, baby!"

He looked fine, aside from the light blush on his cheeks and pointy ears. As cheerful as always, fixing himself to get ready for bed, he preferred to sleep in the nude.

You really couldn't stand him, you thought, a grimace on your face as you reluctantly followed him to bed. The two of you followed your usual routine since you've been sick.

He made you drink a mysterious liquid from a glass; it was a dark red, almost like blood, and knowing him, it most likely was.

He grinned broadly when you handed him the glass back after drinking it. The taste was of iron and cherries, a strange combination that surprisingly wasn't as bad as you expected. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was giving you, but you were used to it by now. His coddling, his singing, and his insistence on taking care of you despite your protests.

You were used to it all by now. Plus, you were really too exhausted to fight anymore.

With you nestled against his chest and a blanket around the two of you, his arms encircling your body like a vice, he was beyond happy. Silas always had a way of getting what he wanted, even if it meant invading your personal space. You couldn't stand him or his behavior at times.

Occasionally, though, he was right.

The effects of his bodily fluids were no doubt working their magic on you, leaving you feeling surprisingly content. You felt warm all over and strangely full in your stomach, like if you had eaten a delicious soup. Your throat was finally free of the acid from barfing and whatever he had done to it.

Looking at him, he slept peacefully, snoring lightly as he laid next to you in bed. Despite his annoying habits, there was a sense of comfort in his presence.

No, no. That wasn't it.

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. The warmth of his body next to yours was simply soothing, nothing more.

You weren't thinking straight; it had to be the fever getting to your brain.

It didn't help that you really needed to get some sleep.

Relaxing more against him, you felt your eyes grow heavier, the sound of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful slumber. The fever-induced delirium was taking its toll, but for now, you were content to drift off in his comforting embrace.

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[shellxrls]

— r. cameron / reader

warnings: DUBCON — rafe roofies and then rapes reader / unprotected PinV / misogyny / mention of drugs (cocaine & roofies) / mention of virginity / inspiration taken from maddy & nate (euphoria)

synopsis: rafe cameron x fem!reader… sometimes rafe needs to slip a girl a little something at a party to get some, and where’s the shame in that if he knows they want him anyway, they’re just too prudish to admit it.

After you’ve successfully been dosed, he makes you sit on his lap for lack of space on the couch so he can rock you on his knee until you’re tired, delirious, and horny enough to be lifted upstairs, legs dangling against his broad back while you hiccup and giggle next to your upside-down view of his chest.

His nose is numb from the coke and his brain heady, one could argue almost as inebriated as you. But the lines make him oversaturated, not cock-dumb like what he slipped you — eager hands already pawing at his zipper and coming to a fumbled close around the metal just before you’re tossed onto a bed, spread aloof like the crumpled sheets.

“You’re sooo nice to me Rafe.. when all the other guys were sayin’i shoulda gone home,” you end with a belligerent nod of your head, slurring throughout and biting your lip in sexless embarrassment, chewing the skin raw enough to reflect your torn consciousness instead.

Rafe simply smirks, chin protruding outwards while his eyes flit between your thighs peeking through your overridden dress and your tits falling out of the frilly décolletage.

“You a virgin?”

“Mhm” you lie, despite the reeling dizziness occupying your headspace. Besides, nobody likes a whore — especially not rafe, uninterested in ‘stretched out pussy’ as you vaguely recall from his earlier conversation crowded around friends.

He approaches closer now, knocking your trembling knees apart with one of his beefy thighs, bulge forward and creasing in his pants as your dialogue gets him hard already, imposing his physicality in all its glory: “What like— you’ve never even been fingered before?”

You shake your head, tousling curls before staring back up at him, “Only my own.”

To that he chuckles, the noise grating and stunted when he uses it as an excuse to adjust himself in his pants, drawing his chest down further until he’s now hovering above you.

“Uh y’know,” he tongues at his cheek, “I could take care of that for you, practically all spread open an’ready huh?”

Like it wasn’t his plan to get you dumb and stuffed by the end of the night, even if it meant bringing out his inner brute, he was taller, faster, stronger — he could do it if he really wanted, but he made it easy for you instead. Could feel the roofie worming its way into your consciousness, jamming rationality and flooding you with hedonistic desire that would trigger your sex endorphins and make it so that you would want this, that he could brag about it without you opening your bitch mouth the next day and claiming ‘rape’; an ugly word anyways, coming out harsh in a spit, nothing like what rafe was doing to you, especially not with the way you were looking at him.

Your mouth opens, then closes, seemingly flailing on confirmation when really your jaw is getting slack and numb, and so you feel encouraged to nod instead, the movement making your thoughts go all bubbly, refracting Rafe’s glinting eyes at your ‘consent’.

He wastes no time with prep, shoving your dress up so it’s tucked over your tits, basal temperature remaining warm and stuffy despite the exposure to cool air. A good indicator though, means rafe can tell it’s working, and just how long he has before you might start struggling.

When he pulls himself out of his shorts it’s surprising, of course, everything about him is pretty, one would expect a tangible reflection of the cruelty on his features but instead, his dick looks cutesy, if not for the intimidating size.

Spit trickles harshly down his palm when he wraps a hand around himself, tugging quickly and using both his legs to split you around his midriff, leaking and achy despite the inattention you’ve received.

“You want this dick so fuckin’ bad huh,” he laughs at the puddle of arousal leaking out underneath you, considers swiping a finger into it to stick into your mouth but he doubts you’d be able to breathe right now if he interfered with the half catatonic features on your face, and it’s not like he’s out for that type of violence anyways (or at least not right now).

When he pushes himself inside you’re silent, pupils retreating in favour of a squeal — ironically a very Rafe-esque trait — while Rafe bites down into his cheek and rolls his palm over your chest to ease the pressure of the fit.

“Thought the roofie woulda loosened you up a bit..” mumbled out while his stomach clenches, now bracing his entire heavy arm across your abdomen and pinching skin when you involuntarily quiver at the weight, “You can take it c’mon.”

He thrusts hard and uncoordinated, fucking like he knows he’s hot, or at least how many more pills he has left in his stash. Knocking against your insides and entirely focused on the way his dick feels, knowing how easily he could move onto another victim, and just how much he wants to enjoy you in particular before it’s over.

Sweat clings to both your bodies, the slick getting louder when each thrust manages to pound a squelch out of you, spattering against the sheets or catching on Rafe’s balls to stick the both of you together with messy tendrils.

You’re pliant, let him move your legs so your ankles entwine behind his back, heavy hand locking them together and giving you both little breathing room; just enough for him to spill obscenities straight into your emotionless face with hot, sticky breath — he laughs, manically and seemingly at his own joke, before deciding to share it with you, “just don’t go running ‘bout me ‘assaulting’ you right. You wanted this, not my fault my cock’s so good the slut has to go dumb hmm?” mocking you with a teasing lilt and a raised brow.

You pat at his swollen chest, it’s all you can manage to do, urgent to get him off you, give you a little space atleast. He only shoves himself in further, lips puckering to sloppily catch yours, saliva straying down your chin and jaw instead.

Your outright discomfort seems to get him going even more, thrusts increasing in increment despite becoming more careless, tip catching your clit when he slips out and hurries to stuff it back in.

When his face pinches up, brows tensed and nose furrowed, you can tell he’s going to cum, the friction between your bodies almost unbearable with the heat that suddenly envelops him.

A slew of curses are hissed out, casual vulgarity being one of Rafe’s favourite expressions of self, and then he’s pulling out and wrapping a fist around himself to paint your tummy white. Ropes shooting watery on your tummy and painting him a proud picture.

He shakes himself off on you a final time before tucking his wet dick back into his briefs, cleaning himself up entirely unbothered by the dissected mess of you laying drugged and fucked out on the bed.

“My head feels funny.”

“Yeah, that’s cause I fucked it out of whack.” He says it serious but you can imagine his upturned lips at his own sick sense of humour.

“Where are you going?” you sit up groggy, chest tight.

“Uhh, back downstairs, got some more yayo I needa lay off— you can stay here or.. wherever, doesn’t matter.”

He has the decency to shut the door fully when he leaves, yet you’re still alone and forced to lay in the waste of one of Rafe Cameron’s nights out.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓛𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎. SUNDAY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

₊ ˙ ⊹ . a hotel maid and the young head of the oak family? with such affair, you two need to hide and crumple the laundry that you will have to clean again.

ৎ୭ — · · 2.8k ノ fem reader — possible dubcon or noncon warning because he ignores your request once or twice — implied that both agreed to ‘free use’ dynamic. slight pain. forced discomfort. overstimulation. restraint — tying wrists with a belt. secret affair. hiding the relationship. controlling behaviour. cumming inside. assume there is some sort of protection ノ reposted from my old blog, so pre-playable sunday!

The room smells of detergent, a pleasant freshness of imaginative flowers and meadows, though it’s thick and damp from the opened doors of the washing machines.

Your clothes are soaked through with sweat from the heavy and stuffed air, a sign that the day was long and laborious. The usual of the hotel maid, always running errands and exhausting yourself even though all you had to do today was just to fold these clothes and towels, and sheets, and handkerchiefs… All done neatly and put into categorised baskets.

The dim lamps cast a cappuccino-coloured light, scattering in the subtle fog of moisture until you can’t see much apart from your hands on the perfectly white fabrics.

However, your peace doesn’t last forever. It seems Sunday has been following you not so long ago, for his scent is filling your nose like an expensive perfume as he walks up behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is, so you remain hunched over the pile of linens in front of you.

“Don’t bother looking at me, dove.” He orders coldly, and you freeze where you are standing. “Finish folding these up first, will you?”

You exhale deeply, but there’s no room for you to object. With quick movements of your arms and precise turns of your wrists, you continue working, but it’s getting difficult as he hugs you tighter. He buries his face into the back of your neck, leaving lazy kisses that send shivers down your spine. His touch burns through your uniform.

As he palms your hip, he adds more force to his hold and pulls you against him until you feel how hard he already is.

“I can’t believe we have to hide in the laundry room to spend time together, angel… I wish I could just take you to my apartment,” he whispers quietly between planting kisses along the side of your throat. His voice is soft yet impatient. He speaks words as if they were prayers, his lips worshipping you with each word. “I long for the comfort of your body. Everything else is so stressful.”

Sunday leans in so close now that he feels your shoulders stiffen a bit before relaxing again as his gentle palms keep massaging your sides and hips. However, despite what his tongue whispers in your ears, your heart skips a beat as soon as he locks the doors shut with one hand.

You’re trapped here now. He isn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.

His mouth travels into your hair, breathing hot against your sensitive scalp, which sends an unexpected wave of pleasure to the very bottom of your stomach. His fingertips slide across your thighs, and your hands tremble against the damp towel you just picked up to fold it once more.

Slowly he unties your apron from behind, fingers touching and fumbling around your waist longer than necessary, as if trying to make sure he missed no single spot that belongs to you.

With how distracted you’re getting, you finally give up on folding the towels any further. It’s futile. The cotton soft strands of his fluffy locks tickle your exposed skin until you squirm and yelp in his hold as he disrobes you piece by piece, the dewy air sticking to your skin like a layer of unspoken desires.

“What would happen if anyone finds out, hmm?” You breathe softly, trying to look calm. You shift slightly. “Your reputation could be tarnished forever.”

“Perhaps,” he admits. You hear the rustling of clothes, and you realise he’s pulling out his belt. Then there’s silence in the room aside from the droning rumble of the machines and the sounds of your overlapping breaths.

“That doesn’t scare you?” you whisper, even quieter, a bit concerned about being caught or something happening to him. But the moment Sunday twists your arm behind your back to tie your hands with the strip of leather, it becomes quite obvious that he is the last person you should ever worry about.

“I think I prefer having my image dirtied than going mad without you for another day.”

With a gentle push of his hand between your shoulder blades, he bends you against the counter, the collision soft and lovely thanks to all the towels. You lay your cheek on them, still warm and damp after the laundry. You don’t mind though, since it smells good.

But that smell doesn’t stay in your head for too long as he taps your ass, grabbing and squeezing the cheeks between his desirous palms. Even though you’re used to this type of play, your hips sway in surprise, and you inhale sharply, biting on the edge of your lower lip to muffle out any sounds, just in case.

The excitement rises gradually as his fingers roll down your pantyhose to the middle of your thighs, patting and fondling the flesh, spreading your ass apart just to glide between your hot folds.

Curiously, you watch him from a discomforting angle take the alabaster white glove in his teeth, pulling by the expensive fabric just to free his hand, now elegantly swiping thumb up and down your core, sending tremors up your legs.

He traces your clit up and down until the glide is smooth, slippery — skin glistening in the dull light. Your toes curl in your shoes in anticipation, and there’s an ache in your abdomen as he gives you only small caresses instead of taking you just as roughly as he spoke about it.

The tension in his grip tells you he’s just as fed up with teasing, yet his fingers continue their soft journey along your neck, sliding over the thin threads of your baby hair, grazing over your ear. His breath is hot and shallow on your sensitive nape, sending a thrill through your body.

Then, finally, you feel his erection rub along the opening of your core, smearing in your essence as his other hand clutches on your tied wrists in one palm, holding you firmly down.

“S-Sunday, please… nngh! Do whatever you want with me…” You mewl quietly against the frotte towel you are bent over, but he immediately stops humping into your wetness, growing tense for a split second. You shiver when you feel the cold of his rings trail under your jaw as he forces you to meet his eyes.

“I’m doing what I want, dove. Be quiet,” he breathes above your parted mouth, leaving a quick peck before pushing your head into the plushy cloths. Your bodies lock into each other perfectly as he enters you in one smooth thrust, sheathing himself fully inside.

With a shudder and cry, you take him whole, barely spreading wide to let him in. Both of you exhale with satisfaction.

“M-mmh! I know you’ve been waiting for it, but, Sunday, ah—!” You grunt between his deep lunges. “You gotta give me time to adjust, or you’re gonna ruin me…”

He moans breathlessly, watching where he sinks into you as if he needed reassurance that you weren’t just some hallucination he’s making up to relieve his stress.

“Good,” he says and smiles as you gasp in mild protest.

The squelching and slapping noises that follow along with his desperate groans make you burn, and your walls pulse around his cock. So satisfied, he watches how your folds tighten and ripple around his girth as he snaps forward, diving into your heat as it gives in under the pressure. He grips on your wrists, not tightly enough to leave a mark. Every time you feel him dragging along your insides, your thighs quiver, threatening to give up if not for your tummy resting on the counter.

All the energy drained from your hard work makes you weak and vulnerable as he pounds you just to sculpt you into his shape. He’s just the perfect man to melt into, the best way to forget about your aching limbs.

It doesn’t take long until he picks up the pace and your blissful voice fills the laundry room with all sorts of moans and whines, gasping his name again and again. The profane sound of your arousal being sloppily pushed and dragged back as he keeps ravaging your sweet cunt gets mingled with the hypnotising noise of the running washing machines.

For a while neither of you says anything apart from your synchronised pants and sighs. It’s nice like this, enjoying each other without speaking any words. Sunday enjoys you. That’s enough. He keeps thrusting, giving you sharp bucks of his hips that shake the counter you’re sprawled on.

As your arms bend into an awkward position, the metal buckle from his belt on your wrists bites into your skin. The pain is unexpected, causing you to choke out a startled sob. You know Sunday must’ve noticed how it hurts you, and it feels like he’s purposefully doing it. He stops for a moment, perhaps to see if you’re alright or if he wants to do it more. Your juices flow down his shaft, and he exhales longingly at the sight. You catch yourself drooling on the damp sheets as his silky tongue licks the outline of your shoulder blade before stuttering with a deep moan and switching positions.

“Wait, Sunday,” you murmur in confusion. You know there’s no stopping him now, yet you try anyway.

Without a word, he pulls out of you unexpectedly, a worried yelp of yours accompanying his actions. All that standing in front of you just to spread your thighs and turn around with a few firm pushes of his palms, guiding you to sit back down on the counter, this time facing him in suffocating proximity.

“Mm, now you should be able to enjoy the view together with me. That’s much better, right, love? Look between us, how we’re made for each other…” He orders sternly, not in a way to scold you but still leaving no room for negotiations. You could never tell him no. Not in your right mind.

His slender fingers clutch the underside of your thighs and push your legs up until they rest on his shoulders. In such a way he can shove himself inside once more, seeing all of you stretching for him so eagerly.

A drawn-out, raspy whine escapes him, and he mutters a soft “fuck” — inappropriate for his current status and importance to curse openly, its harshness numbing to your mind like honey. His eyes trail over your curled-up figure, trembling like a leaf in the span of a heartbeat. Then he leans down, taking you into a kiss, a messy mingle of spit and tongues.

Despite your efforts, you can’t keep up with his demanding tempo or the overwhelming tension. It just feels too full, your neck falling back as you whine at the stretch of both your muscles and your pussy. He can reach just the right spot, and your eyelashes flutter each time he drives his tip against your innermost depths.

You squeeze around him with your calves, begging him to stop a little, to slow down, but he doesn’t let you rest at all. There’s something addictive about fucking you, even though it’s obvious you have things to finish here. The warm softness of your breasts cushions against him, trying to fold you further, rubbing deliciously with every shove until he almost forgets you aren’t his.

So he just buries his face into your cleavage, planting hungry kisses on the flushed skin there as if wanting to apologise for the earlier impatience. He even bites and nibbles at your exposed collarbone, worshipping and pleasing you however he can, losing himself completely.

There are several moments in which you try to break through his mania, to make him notice that your legs are getting numb from exertion and that your arms sting from being still tied behind your back. That your neck hurts from throwing your head back to pant louder and sweeter for him. But your futile attempts only make you tighten around him.

Eventually Sunday fumbles with the belt restraining your wrists, allowing you to bring your hands up so fast, so desperate for contact, and grab his hair. He mewls in surprise at your tug, lowering his head and pulling you in for another wet kiss.

“H-hurts… and I’m tired. I just can’t, can’t continue…” You weep, whole body trembling and numb from the tension, your muscles feeling like jelly from the stretch. “I won’t be able to work after that…”

Sunday curses quietly under his breath as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, stifling a weak sigh when he continues nonetheless. He doesn’t pay attention to what you said.

“If you can still speak to me so gently, then we shall keep going.” He smirks devilishly, his voice smooth and confident, as if he expected this to happen. You hear his husky laughter against the top of your head.

“No… It hurts, Sunday. You gotta slow down for a while! Just let me rest my legs.” Your tone is pleading, yet you doubt that will be enough to convince him. It isn’t.

“I’d be lying if I said I care for your well-being now, dove. You just have to handle it.”

You pout, grabbing his fluffy locks firmly as he spreads the petals of your pussy wider, opening your throbbing insides further for himself. Tears collect in the corners of your eyes. The angle of your legs prevents you from shifting into a comfortable position, leaving you in his full control.

When his powerful thrusts hit the deepest parts, your chin tucks into your chest as your body seizes in the same position. The familiar rush of your orgasm envelops you again, extracting quiet whimpers against his torso.

Despite it all, Sunday doesn’t show any sign of slowing down, no, even if it’s overflowing now, drenching your inner thighs with slick and precum. It’s difficult for you to take anything more as your fingers grasp onto his ashy locks desperately to warn him about what happens next. His rhythm changes in a heartbeat as he lets out a lewd groan. There’s a tight sensation that is squeezing him, too addicting to pause.

The edges of your vision darken, your jaw slacks as a jumbled string of syllables pours from your mouth, just incomprehensible cacophony in a voice that is unfamiliar to you — not once have you heard yourself mewl so dramatically. Evidently, your body commences shutting down one function at a time until there is no longer any control left.

“Fuck, I’m so— I apologise, angel, but you just feel so good— ah…”

Nothing changes. Your cries don’t affect him. They become background noise as he buries his cock within you. You feel it pulse against your velvety walls; it’s burning hot and hard. It doesn’t take long until a wave of ecstasy spreading from the bottom of your belly overwhelms you. To make you contract and tense uncontrollably, rippling around as you feel it expand.

And then it fills you — an abundance of pearlescent cum spurting deep, splashing between the sticky, intertwined bodies. Your combined essences flow and drip out of your heat, trailing down Sunday’s balls, covering everything in a layer of glossy fluids.

The man gives you one last thrust, making sure you take all of him until his fingers slide through the mess on your sizzling-red cunt. His palm strokes your temples gently, as if trying to calm you down from the devastating pleasure, slowly and surely coming to the realisation that you took all of him. Every single drop.

“Well done…” he murmurs into your ear, and you shiver under his embrace, enjoying the intimacy of the moment.

With the way he moves his hips to push them upwards into yours, it feels like Sunday doesn’t want to let go, letting his cock get soft in your pussy before he pulls out. You wonder why. That neediness, longing for your closeness.

The two of you breathe heavily with smiles on your lips, his palm rubbing soothing circles into your abdomen as it finally stops tensing, the other hand carefully putting down your numb legs as the white noise spreads from your knees on both sides, balancing on the edge of cramping.

“You were so obedient. Good work. Almost. The next time we meet, I would like to work on your unnecessary comments, angel. Can I have your pretty face nodding now in understanding?”

“Y-yes, but… not now, please. Please, I n-need rest…” But your thoughts are quickly cut off as you clench around the sudden emptiness as more of his load spills out along with your own juices, down the crumpled towels needing another wash.

“Of course, love. I’m at fault for pushing your limits, that is true. I will think later of compensating for your excellent performance.”

[cruel-hiraeth]

꒰ FLESH OF MY FLESH; BLOOD OF MY BLOOD ꒱ KAMO CHOSO X READER — ft. itadori yuuji

warnings ⟢ dead dove: do not eat. minors do not interact—i will block you! incest. yandere elements. implied drugging. noncon. slight forced feminization (choso uses “sister” and she/her pronouns to refer to reader, but reader is nb). religious imagery. reader is yuuji’s twin, but no physical descriptors are used. reader has a vagina.

word count ⟢ 963

notes ⟢ this is part of @ficsforgaza’s kinktober event! my prompt was choso + incest. i have an au with big brother choso and twins yuuji and reader, so this was the perfect opportunity to explore their dynamic. a huge thank you to my dearest lexi—@drleggman—for requesting this (and for allowing me to go full degenerate) <3

“Yuu…”  “Yuu…ji…” “Yuuji…”

Your twin’s name ambles from your petal-soft lips, voice laden with slumber, muted snores drifting through the gaps. The bedroom you share is swathed in midnight’s gloom; moonbeams peek through the cheap apartment blinds, luminous stripes cutting across the men huddled above your nude figure.  

“Our baby sister seems to be having sweet dreams,” Choso states, mouth reluctantly detaching from your nipple, a silvery thread of spider silk connecting his lips to your tender flesh. “She’s naughty, though—calling out to you when I’m the one pleasuring her.”

Choso removes two thick digits from your weeping hole, examining the twitch of your jaw as he strums your clit with calloused fingertips. He experimentally increases the speed and pressure of his caresses, humming when you let out a whimper. As your breath grows heavier and your eyes flicker and dance beneath your lids, he pauses to smear your slick across your pubic hair, and scrapes his teeth up your neck to nip at your pulse point. 

Yuuji lies beside you, honeyed gaze soaking in the tranquil curves of your dreamy expression. He strokes the hair at your temple with the care of a collector admiring his choicest possession; he can’t help but drag his nose across your cheek, blotting a kiss at the hollow behind your earlobe.  

The reverence Yuuji treats you with starkly contrasts the way his muscular body presses against your softness, his bare cock dribbling pre onto the plush of your thigh. It’s something of a punishment that Choso doled out—not being able to indulge in you fully—upset with your twin for being secretive and possessive of you. But as far as Yuuji is concerned, to be anywhere in the halo of your presence is a heavenly gift. To merely witness your divinity, to press his lowly, sweaty skin flush to yours—it’s more than he deserves. 

“Don’t be too rough with them,” Yuuji fusses when Choso abruptly presses your knees to your chest, leveling his face with your spread cunt. “W-wait—I wanna taste, too.” 

After Yuuji shuffles over to join Choso, two sets of broad shoulders hunch over to marvel at your beauty. Yuuji fully expects to be chewed out again—perhaps even shoved off the bed or thrown out of the room; he swallows his pride and formulates a half-hearted apology, prepared to grovel for a chance to revel in you.

Instead, he grunts in surprise when he’s pulled into a kiss.

Chapped, chilly lips slip against his own, urging Yuuji’s mouth open, wet muscles intertwining. A shiver skitters across his limbs when he discovers the little silver ball that pierces Choso’s tongue—now bumping along the expanse of his palate, tracing the velvet of his gums. It’s a sloppy exchange of spit and teeth and tongue, too frenzied to be mistaken as purely passionate. Choso reaches over to swipe a thumb across Yuuji’s fat, leaking cock head. Yuuji keens into his brother’s mouth before ripping himself away, swollen lips parted, blooming rose from the tips of his ears down to his heaving chest.

“Let’s taste her together,” Choso rasps.

Not waiting for a reply, he pecks the fat of your hip before dipping down to lap at the arousal leaking from your hole; Yuuji watches heatedly, letting saliva pool on his tongue and drip onto your clit. He then cleans his mess with noisy sucks, occasionally tugging at your folds. Too preoccupied with coaxing your unconscious body to orgasm, the brothers don’t realize how you begin to stir, fingers and toes flexing and relaxing. They savor your eventual high, admiring your glistening release.

“I’ll have her first,” Choso announces thickly, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. He’s practically vibrating—pale skin dewy with desire—having fantasized about this exact scenario more times than he can count. “You should prop her up.”

Yuuji leans against the headboard and pulls you between his strong legs, your head resting on his chest. Choso angles your hips and pumps his throbbing length a few times before nudging your entrance. Your breathing shallows and you yawn; Yuuji’s heart catches in his throat.

“Fuck—how much did you give them? Clearly not enough,” he hisses, arms tightening around your waist. “I think they’re about to wake up.”

For the first time all evening, Choso smiles at Yuuji. It’s an unsettling sight: his knife-sharp inscisors gleam in the dusk, irises black as bruised plums. “Relax,” he soothes. “She’s going to enjoy this, too. It will become a treasured memory for us all.”

Before Yuuji can respond, your eyelids flutter open. “Ch-Choso…Yuuji…” you murmur, words slow and slurred as molasses, “what are you—”

The air is promptly punched from your lungs, a strangled yelp interrupting your train of thought as Choso enters you in a single thrust—cock so deep you swear you can taste it. One of Yuuji’s rough palms rests on your belly and meanly presses down with the movement; you throw your head back and warble a moan.

“Call me ‘onii-chan,’” Choso grits out, refusing to succumb to the squeeze of your cunt so soon.

“W-what?” you sniffle. Your brain is foggy from whatever concoction they gave you, incapable of piecing together your predicament.

He grasps your chin firmly, forcing your glazed stare to focus on him. “Onii-chan,” he repeats with a harsh snap of his hips.

You squirm, trying to turn to Yuuji for help, unaware of the tears carving hot rivulets down your cheeks. But Choso won’t let you go. His heavy frame eclipses yours, trapping you in place. “We’re family,” he huffs, fucking you steadily, umber strands falling to curtain his face.

“Everything we do, we do together. You have both been—nnghhh—selfish. It’s time to make it up to onii-chan.” 

[islandofthedollz]

❤︎Jimmy’s voicemail ❤︎

⁠❥TW implied Rape, blood, implied blackmail

❥ You’re Ex boyfriend Jimmy leaves you voice mail.

“Hey (Y/N). Thought I’d call you. This is probably the, what? Probably the 16th voicemail I’ve left you.”

“I know that one time you answered… and you said… what’d you say? You said that you’d call the police or something? File a restraining order? One of those. I don’t really remember. My memory has been weird these days, maybe it’s the alcohol, but um… I just wanna tell you some things.

I wished you would’ve just picked up the phone… the last time I heard your voice I was hard for hours. I’m gonna have to start recording your voice now. It’s embarrassing, but I’m having trouble getting it up without you.”

“Did you get the poem I sent you it reminded me of you? I’m sure you have, I mean, you’re fucking obsessed with me like I’m of you. I saw a poetry book… I saw it in your apartment that time I fucked you. I know you try to pretend like you’re not obsessed but trust me, I know. Fuck, you’re the prettiest girl there is.”

“My favorite line of the entire thing is when I talk about- when I talk about taking your heart out and ripping my chest open and putting your heart inside me…”

“If you had no heart, you wouldn’t be able to love at anyone else, would you? You’d stop making me so fucking jealous. You love making me jealous, don’t you? You..like playing hard to get. You like it when I’m jealous, want me to fuck you when I’m jealous. You’d like that wouldn’t you?

Fucking you with my cock until you’re crying? Little crybaby, acting like she doesn’t want to, like she doesn't want it.”

“I’m gonna get you one day, you know… one day. I’ll cut your fingers open and collect your blood… wear it around my neck and you’ll wear mine so everyone knows you’re mine. You’re already mine, just no one seems to know it yet. It pisses me off… I want you so fucking bad, baby.

You have no clue. I think about you all the time; all my poems are about you, you know I read them to curly he says say it’s nice that I found another hobby that isn’t weightlifting don’t you agree?”

“you know my favorite one is… where I wrote about how I want to hold your hand and kiss you. About how I just want to be with you, you know? But, um, the dirty ones are especially about you.”

Jimmy chuckles there’s a pause he sighs.

“Listen, I don’t really know what I did for this kind of treatment, babe. I’m starting to get a bit impatient. You don’t respond to my messages, my calls… you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Do you realize how that I die a little bit on the inside when you don’t call me back?”

“But you just love to play hard to get… fucking ignoring me. Hell, I even asked you out and you said no. Do you… do you realize my love for you? Do you realize who the fuck you said no to?

I love you so much it hurts I don’t care who gets in the way of out love. No one is gonna separate us. I’m always watching you. You need me as much as I need you. I know you want me, you’re just teasing me.”

“But you… you know I love it when you tease. Told you that myself, huh? All those times I teased my cock with your cunt… you liked it too, I remember. Yeah, you may have been drunk but you were moaning like a whore.

They say even in your drunkest state you’re honest. if You were moaning, you came so many times, remember? Came all over my cock. You said- you said in your little voice ah, Jimmy , harder! Remember?”

“I was a good fuck wasn’t I? You were saying I was a bit rough and you mentioned how you thought you were bleeding. I mean, if that’s what you’re into. I don’t mind a kinky girl.

I’d prefer one, actually. Maybe that’s why I love you so much we’re so alike. You wanna be my slut, do you? Hm…”

“It would be a shame if your family found out… they’d probably never talk to you. All your dirty little secrets brought to light, and yeah, I know you have secrets. If you don’t want those to come out, you better fucking call me back. You have my number.

[infinitatis-ink]

Brotherly Devotion

Yandere Younger Brother!Gojo x Older Sister!Reader

Summary: Out of everyone in your clan, your younger brother loved you the most. And he’d do anything to keep you by his side.   

A/N: Younger bro!Gojo being a low-key yandere for his older sis is an incredibly interesting concept to me. I also have a fic outline for this idea in my drafts, but it’ll take a different direction from these headcanons

Content Warnings: Brother-sister incest, noncon/rape, drugging, somnophilia, emotional manipulation, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour, virginity loss, piv sex, creampies, female Reader.

MDNI. AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED

Younger Brother!Gojo, who’s been joined at the hip with you since childhood. You’re the only person that he’s been allowed to interact with consistently, and you’ve been the only one to treat him as an actual person. It was always you who let him cry even when your caretakers scolded him for acting in a way not suitable for an heir, curl up in your arms whenever his Six Eyes became overwhelming, and sleep in your bed when the stillness of the night was too much. 

Younger Brother!Gojo, who insisted on going anywhere you went, and vice versa. He’d cling to your arm and give anyone who’d try to separate the two of you a vicious death glare; not even your own parents could get him to leave your side. When he gets older and can’t do that it anymore, he’ll demand you spend every free moment you have with him. Even if you’re trying to study or relax, he’ll barge in to dramatically hang off your arm and pout until you pay attention to him. 

Younger Brother!Gojo who begins having wet dreams about you when he hits puberty. At first they’re just with a woman who resembles you from afar. But soon he’s dreaming about having you writhing in pleasure under him, moaning his name every night. He tries everything he can think of to get these feelings out of his system—jerking off until it’s painful, fooling around with other girls, buying magazines of gravure idols. But no matter what he does, all he can think of is you.

Younger Brother!Gojo who’s irritated every time he sees you with your friends, or even worse, another boy. Isn’t he supposed to be your favourite? He’s such a brat, fighting for your attention. Dragging you everywhere with him so you don’t have the energy to talk to anyone else, butting in on your hang outs with your friends, whining about how you never have time for him anymore until you cancel whatever plans you had to be with him instead.

Younger Brother!Gojo, who insists you call and text him every day when he goes to Tokyo to study. Good luck if you forget to do so even once—he’ll ghost you for days and when he does answer, he’s very passive aggressive. Don’t be sorry for forgetting, he says. You’ve got so many other important things to do that keeping in touch with your little brother isn’t a priority anymore. You’ll have to grovel for days before he’ll forgive you, and even then, he’ll hold this over you for months to come.  

Younger Brother!Gojo who realises he only wants you after the events of the Star Plasma Vessel Incident and Geto’s defection. He becomes more possessive after that; he can’t afford to lose you too. He calls multiple times a day, and he'll spam you with texts if you don't answer. He needs to know your location at all times, for your own safety, he claims. Your friendships suffer because Gojo leaves you with so little time for anyone else, and he gets so mean whenever he sees you with anyone he doesn’t approve of.  

Younger Brother!Gojo who becomes bolder after he graduates. He’ll steal your used panties to jerk off. He’ll pull you into his lap while the two of you are watching movies in his room, his hands wandering up your thighs and chest. If you call him out for it, he’ll laugh and tell you to get your head out of the gutter. Some nights you'll open your bedroom door to see your younger brother, deathly pale. I can’t sleep, he whispers. Can I stay in your bed like we used to? You never have the heart to refuse, even when you wake up to a damp spot on the back of your pajamas in the morning.

Younger Brother!Gojo who notices when you’ve suddenly become more avoidant and depressed. At first he thinks it’s because of those old fossils that call themselves the clan elders. They’ve been demanding more of his time as of late, forcing him away from your side as they harass him about hurrying up to become the clan head. Poor you, you must’ve been so lonely. 

Younger Brother!Gojo, whose blood runs cold when you tearfully admit your parents are considering an arranged marriage with a man old enough to be your father. Every cell in his body is screaming at him to just kill the elders, the consequences be damned, to take you and run. Instead, he hugs you and tells you not to worry, he’ll talk to the elders about this.    

Younger Brother!Gojo, who comes to his clan with an ultimatum: he’ll become the clan head for a price—you. The elders are shouting and shaking with rage at this and his parents have gone numb with shock, but that’s to be expected. The room falls silent when the wisps of a Hollow Purple form threateningly at his fingertips. It’s not long before the elders all cower and shamefully agree to his terms. 

Younger Brother!Gojo who can barely contain his excitement as he serves you tea laced with sleeping pills. You drink it without any hesitation, fully trusting your little brother even as you drift off to sleep, confused and dazed. Gojo immediately carries you off to your new home, a small house on the edge of the compound, ignoring his parents’ disgusted looks on the way out. Nobody matters except the two of you now.

Younger Brother!Gojo, who can’t resist claiming you for himself once he’s chained you to the bed of your new home. He takes his time undressing you as if you were the most precious gift in the world, taking his time to admire every curve of your body, the glow of your skin against the dim lighting, the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep on, oblivious to your fate. You look and taste better than anything he'd conjured up in his mind all those nights he'd fisted his cock to you, and he's eager to get a taste. He marks your whole body with hickeys to show the world you belong to him.  

Younger Brother!Gojo who nearly cums on the spot when he enters you for the first time. It’s maddening, the way your warm walls tighten and clamp down on his cock, as though you’re trying to pull him into you. He’s high, almost as high as that summer’s day when he truly understood Limitless, because now, you and him have become one. And best of all, you’re his first time as much as he is yours. 

Younger Brother!Gojo who can’t stop himself from rutting into you like an animal in heat in spite of his best attempt at going slowly and savoring the moment. Every thrust into you makes him feel like he’s seeing stars, even when you wake up and begin struggling against him. Your cries fall on deaf ears as Gojo chases after his pleasure, his eyes rolling back at the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each movement. He’s pussy drunk; all he can think and say is how much he loves you, he’s always loved you, you’ve been all he’s ever wanted all these years.  

Younger Brother!Gojo, who cums inside you the moment you cum with a sob, your walls spasming around his cock as he spills his seed in you. He takes you into your arms after, cooing softly as he kisses away your tears. Don’t cry, he tells you. He knows the sudden change was so scary for you, but soon you’ll realise that he did it all for you. Soon you’ll see that the two of you are free to love each other the way you were meant to here, away from your clan and the jujutsu world. You just need some time to see that he's right, so trust your beloved little brother, okay?   

[quarterlifekitty]

“Just the tip”

cw: includes some dubcon/noncon depending on interpretation

Gaz is saying it to tease you when he’s just barely inside of you. “Is that enough for you, love?” He can feel you pulse around him as you whine, just short of begging.

Soap is saying it when he’s drunk, you’re drunk, and you definitely shouldn’t be doing it. He’s promising you don’t have the go all the way— just a little, just to help him get it out of his system, ok?

Ghost is just straight up tricking you. Told you he’d take it slow tonight, but then he snaps his hips against yours so hard that your ass flesh of your ass ripples. “Can’t believe you keep fallin’ for that one, birdie.”

Price is condescending as all hell. He’s talking to you in that babying way when you’re horny and desperate. “Just the tip— that’s all she needs, yeah? This sweet little pussy… Aw, does that feel better, darl’?”

König really meant it in the moment that he said it. He knows you’re anxious about taking him— and for good reason. But once he finds himself inside, how is he supposed to resist? You’re just too sweet. Too warm. Too wet. Too tight. Too breathtaking beneath him. He’s only a man, liebling.

[sserasin]

ruination

cw nsfw under cut, noncon, dead dove do not eat, female reader, degradation, car sex, use of degrading names (fucktoy, slut, cumdump), choking, overstimulation, heeseung cums inside.

“what did you fuckin’ expect?” heeseung grunts, your hair wrapped around his fist as he pulls your body up against his, breath hitting your ear. your eyes are squeezed shut, small whimpers escaping your mouth the harder heeseung slams into you. “going around and wearing shit like that? wanna go show off your ass and tits to a bunch of horny fuckers, might as well give you what you wanted.”

“hee—heeseu—” a loud cry leaves your lips when he gives a swift but just as hard smack to your ass, barely even able to feel the sting from the millionth time he’s done this.

“shut the fuck up,” he pushes your head back down into the backseat, “fucktoys don’t talk.”

squeezing your eyes shut tighter didn’t do anything for your tears, just pushing them out even quicker. if you could think of something happier… but the feeling of him stuffing you full was overwhelming, making you lose grasp of reality.

“you can’t fool me,” heeseung hisses your name through gritted teeth, as if he’s even disgusted to say your name, “saying you’re a virgin… no virgin would be easily sucking me in like this.”

your head turns to the side, revealing your teary eyes with tears rushing down your cheeks, “heeseung, p-please, stop. i-it hurts!”

“‘cause you like it like that,” he huffs, hips snapping into yours at a brutal pace. “like all dirty sluts do. you like to be put in your place, you like the pain. i know you do.”

you gasp out in a mix of mortification and pleasure as the head of his cock kisses your cervix. heeseung notices, chuckling as he pulls out without warning and flips you over, quick to push himself back in your wet, puffy cunt. you whimper at the intrusion, blinking back tears as you keep your eyes on the necklace that swings from his neck in your face.

“see, i knew you liked it,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips to yours only for you to turn your head to the side so his mouth was against your cheek. his brow raises, slowly thrusting in and out of you but with enough force to make your entire body move. “i suggest you let me kiss you.”

with tears streaming down your cheeks, you turn and keep still as he moves his lips against yours, not all caring that you weren’t responding to the kiss. he was right. you were a dirty slut, weren’t you? you had to be— how else could you be this wet?

heeseung pulls back, glee in his eyes, “i’ve always wanted to do that.” his eyes then darken, “but you never gave me the time of day, did you?” you didn’t notice his hand had moved to your collarbone, slowly increasing your anxiety as his hand finally rests on your neck. his rings are cold around your burning hot neck. he doesn’t squeeze, not yet. “stupid slut was always busy fucking around with her friends’ boyfriends and giving fuck me eyes to all the wrong guys.”

your eyes widen, “no, no,” you attempt to shake your head, but his hand tightens around your neck. your eyes dart to his necklace again, trying to copy the calm swing and repeat it with your breathing. up, in. down, out. but it’s your mistake— heeseung’s grip keeps getting tighter and tighter.

“i told you, you can’t fool me,” heeseung says, eyes burning a hole straight through you. you’re letting out choked gasps, but it only has his cocking twitching inside you.

dots begin to blur your vision, chest tightening with the squeeze on your neck. your walls tighten around his cock in retaliation, making him groan before letting go of your neck and lifting your leg up over his shoulder. there’s a burning in your thigh, but it doesn’t matter when your vision isn’t just colors anymore and all you see is a blurred heeseung over you.

“i’m going to ruin you and that perfect fucking image of yours,” he snaps his hips up, immediately slamming into your g-spot. your hands clutch at the top of the car seat, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down on your lip. think of something else. not his cock hammering repeatedly into you, not the tightening in your stomach or your legs trembling. you wish you could focus on the necklace again.

you cream around his cock, a weak whimper finally leaving your mouth. but heeseung continues to fuck you, his thick cock dragging against your walls. the pleasure soon turned into pain again, grunts coming from his lips as your hand weakly tries to push him away, “ah, ah, heeseu— stop! ‘t’s too fast, please—“ you weakly sob out, but not a tear leaves your eyes. you wonder if you’ve cried all your tears out.

“shut up,” he groans, hips snapping up to hit the soft spongy spot with each word, “and lay there and fucking take it.” his hand comes to grip your jaw, pulling you into a kiss as his thrusts become weak and sloppy. “f—fuck, i’m go—going to fill you up with my cum,” he grunts making your eyes widen.

“wh—what?” you stammer, fists trying to punch him away again. “heeseung, don’t—”

“ruin y—you for all oth—other guys,” he continues like you’re not even talking, writhing under him for him to get off. “no guy wants a fucking cumdump as their girlfriend,” he grits out, bottoming out in you with a low groan and releases inside of you with three quick squirts. his head is thrown back, ecstasy shown on his face as he pants above you.

you watch him through lidded eyes, hoping this was it. he was done with you. you could go get plan b, and forget this day ever happened.

heeseung’s head lowers, dark eyes settling on you and dread begins to fill your chest again. you can feel his cock hardening in you again, a squeak leaving your lips as it stretches out your abused walls.

“i’m not done with you yet,” he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss under your jaw. it feels misleading. “i told you i was going to ruin you.”

[osamucide]

cw: intox+dub/noncon

can't stop thinking about roommate!Dazai who smokes you under the table every time you both light up in your living room and roommate!Dazai who teases you about how red your eyes get when you're high and how it's so cute and roommate!Dazai who laughs when you cough after he dares you to hold this next hit as long as you can and roommate!Dazai who just keeps packing bowl after bowl and handing it to you because he knows you want to be able to keep up with him and roommate!Dazai who calms you down and gets you plenty of water and lays with you on the couch and cuddles with you and grinds his hard-on against your ass when you get way too high and roommate!Dazai who shushes you while he asks you if you want him to help make you feel better and shoves his hands down your pants when you nod deliriously and roommate!Dazai who you can't say no to because the bliss you feel when he circles his fingers around your clit is so all-consuming and roommate!Dazai who lifts your leg and fingers you until you're crying and leaking because it all feels so good and roommate!Dazai who fucks into you with his chest against your back and his head buried in your shoulder and his arms tight around your waist until you pass out with a smile on your face because you're so totally ripped off his weed and his cock and roommate!Dazai wh

[toxicanonymity]

DOMESTICATION

MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck. WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar. Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS

Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.

No one was coming to save you.

You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.

He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?

You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?

He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.

When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.

Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.

“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.

The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.

“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.

Silence. Unlike him.

“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."

The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.

His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.

Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.

He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.

After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.

More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.

The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.

The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.

He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.

You took a much needed breath.

The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.

Your lower body was warm and stuffed.

Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.

You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.

Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.

You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.

As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.

But you didn't cry for help.

It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.

With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.

The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.

You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.

There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.

You spasmed with a whimper.

He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.

He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.

Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.

The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.

After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.

One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.

Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.

The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.

You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.

A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.

Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.

Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.

Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.

He returned with his hands full.

Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.

He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.

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thank you for reading 🖤

and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.