#Dubious Consent

[bettystonewell]

SNICKERDOODLES & SPECIAL SAUCE

Part 1 - Do We Really Have to Keep Her?

Story Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader,

Summary: ‘Twas the night of fake Christmas and all through the halls, creatures were stirring, eventually on all fours… or …Mrs Butters isn’t just messing with Dean’s underwear drawer. She’s messing with your love lives, too. 18+ only

Word Count: 4K words

Tags/Warnings: crack, friends to lovers, love potion, language, dubious consent, pining, eggnog, Mrs Butters is a terrible wingman, SMUT in parts 2&3—————————————————————Part 2 || Part 3

Part 1: Do We Really Have to Keep Her?

The scene was right outta your childhood. Strings of giant baubles pre-lit flew before your eyes; spinning and winding around the balustrades and the lush green branches of the fir tree sitting atop the war room table. Mrs Butters had whipped it out of thin air without a visible wand or spell book, and you were afraid to ask.

Five finger discounts weren’t uncommon in the bunker, but she didn’t seem the stealing kind.

Had the whiskers on her chin been longer and she dressed all in blue, she’d make a mean Merlin or Merriweather. She was just missing her sister Flora. Or did that title fall on you?

“Close your mouth, dear,” she said as her hands flattened the collar of her blouse. “You’ll catch flies that way. Not a man.”

Not a… What? She’d been throwing shade at you all day, but that? That took the cake.

Who said you needed one for starters? You surrounded yourself with four on the daily and they were less than desired. An angel, a literal child, and two hunters, arrogant and crude. Yuck, yuck, and double yuck.

Sam could keep his toxic gas, and Dean, refusing to change his underthings until he’d worn them inside and out, twice? Yeah. No thanks. 

You opened your mouth wider to argue, making her words come true. Only she cut you off with the same tsk she’d given Dean earlier when questioning his third beer.

“Oh, I know your type.” She hooted like an owl and the lights flickered along in time. “You’re the same as young Josie. The first Woman of Letters. Look what happened to her.” 

“Abbadon possessed and killed her,” you said. 

“Yet you have a tattoo for that.” 

Her eyes narrowed, and she tsked again, but before you could offer another retort, she clicked her heels and strode away. Shame it wasn’t three times. This was your home and her picking you to pieces in it wasn’t happening. No way, no how. 

So, you chased after her and her stupid apron into the kitchen, a few steps behind. She was fast for an old lady, but you were faster. 

“Look lady!” You grabbed her by the arm and she turned to face you. Those eyes of hers could shoot laser beams if she wanted. Cut your insides open, head to toe. Anyone would think you’d stolen her fake Christmas. Screw your Tuesday afternoon in June.

“Mrs Butters will do, dear,” she said in her sweetest voice. The smile that accompanied it prickled the hairs on the back of your neck. “Why don’t you help me with the snickerdoodles?” 

Wait. What? No. You didn’t want to help her with her cookies. You didn’t want her here at all. 

You looked her in her beady eyes and opened your mouth wide to speak, only to find a spatula in your left hand, and an eggbeater in your right. 

What the—

“Language!” she chirped.

That evening, Dean’s face lit up, matching all that glittered as he and Sam descended the spiral staircase. The spring in his step like a child’s on an actual Christmas morning. 

The baubles. The tinsel. The lights. No wonder Mrs Butters had kept you busy baking and decorating all afternoon. More flourishes had been added since you’d last seen it, and there were presents, too. Gifts wrapped in ribbons and glossy wrapping that belonged in a department store window, never in your life, now sat below the lowest branches of the tree. 

The large square one with the teal and white trimmings had your name on it. Literally. Written in silver cursive on a blue background, you could just make out from where you stood, a good three feet behind her. 

That is until the guys hit the ground and you took a step towards Dean, who was first. Headed straight for Mrs Butters and the silver tray of Christmas treats in her hands, of course. 

He took one and shoved it into his mouth, biting off Santa’s face with no qualms. No questions asked, either. Give that man sugar and a crumbly base to eat it off of and you’ve won his heart over, tenfold. 

You cocked your brow, but he just grinned through full, rosy cheeks, and said, “This is great, Mrs B.” with a crumbly finish.

Sam rolled his eyes, and you agreed. Was it great?

“Don’t chew with your mouthful, dear.” She patted him on the back. “And it’s not me you should be thanking.”

She winked at you, and all eyes turned.

“You made these?” Dean asked, looking you up and down just as she had earlier. 

Did you? Your sugar coated hands smoothed over your thighs, catching on the skirt of your apron. She’d made them. You just mixed up the icing and placed dollop after dollop of red, white, green and black on their golden tops. But did you tell him that? No. Were you given the chance to? Also, no.

“She made them from scratch.” Mrs Butters beamed before you could, snapping her fingers and walking away with a clickety-clack. 

The woman was a whirlwind. The tray of cookies, magical just like her to the point you weren’t sure any of you should be eating them, even if you had helped mix the ingredients. They’d appeared on the table in a space amongst the presents that wasn’t there two seconds before. 

Though why were you surprised? 

Dean still wasn’t. Least not at the apparating snickerdoodles. “You really made these?” he said, shoving Santa’s jolly belly and legs into his mouth all at once. 

You folded your arms across your chest. It may’ve been untrue, but he didn’t have to doubt you. “Is it so hard to believe I baked?” you asked with a narrowing glare.

“Maybe in college.” He chuckled, leaving you flustered and him a larger hole for the cookie crumbs to crumble onto his chin.

“It was one time!” And he’d never let it go. 

Cue Dean’s purple nightdress and Sam ripping his eyes from their sockets. 

Packed lunches.

Smoothies on tap for Jack. 

Clean sheets and clean clothes for everyone. Only some of your bras and panties had gone MIA. Replaced with stockings, a dressing gown and a petticoat that would never fit under your jeans and sweats, let alone the one skirt you wore on the job. 

Of course, you knew who to thank. She’d rearranged the kitchen. And if you’d been insulted before? Well, it didn’t matter, because you did nothing, choosing to stew in your bitterness. She considered the room your domain and you a housewife, yet she’d charged in and changed it on you. 

You couldn’t win.

The fresh fruit was a nice touch, sure. It sat on the counter along with all the other makings of your Christmas dinner, including ham, turkey, and pork. That stuff had you salivating. 

The apples she had you stewing, though? Not so much.

“Perfect!” Mrs Butters said, not noticing the glitter that’d fallen into the pot from the tinsel hanging above the burners. Nope. She clapped her hands with the tips of her fingers in excitement, rather. “The boys will be most surprised. Samuel was very excited when I told him about my special apple and cranberry sauce.”

You bet he was, and you gave her your best fake smile. Sam was particular about what he ate, and the sugar levels in this stuff were more than he’d eaten in the past year. He’d get a surprise all right. She would too if she let Dean sample all the dairy centric dishes she’d made.

“Now, turn the heat to a simmer, dear,” she said, and in the next breath yelled, “Jack!” 

Could she not slow down just a teensy bit? 

Before you could even crank the gas, she was hightailing it to the kitchen table where he sat eating his sandwich. No matter, he didn’t want it. She’d insisted you make it for him, anyway.

It was hard enough to keep up with her quips and off-the-cuff insults, but Jack was innocent, vulnerable, and she wasn’t upsetting him anymore than she already had under your watch. So you threw in the towel, the one you’d had resting on your shoulder, and you strode over to him, too.

“Can we fix you anything else?” she chirped at him. We, meaning you.

“Ah, no, thanks.” You shared a look. His shoulders hunched over as he put the wholemeal, de-crusted PB and J back on his plate. “I wasn’t—”

“Oh, pish posh.” She double tsked. “You’re a growing boy. Perhaps another smoothie if the sandwich isn’t hitting the spot?” 

She’d phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t. Nope. Another glass of the creamy concoction she’d forced upon him all day appeared from nowhere. The woman could magic up food and trees without lifting a finger, yet she was hovering over you as she cast instructions on how to make everything by hand. 

Why you were even agreeing to this was beyond you. Yes, you had your ulterior motives. Monitor the witch and protect Jack because Cas was indisposed, and the guys were chasing monsters at the new fandangle radar’s whim. But being her bitch? You needed a break from that.

“Wanna watch something?” you asked Jack, tugging on your apron by the longest piece to untie it. Only, it was rather tight, as was Mrs Butters gripping your shoulder.

“We have to finish our sauce first, dear,” she said.

Of course you did. Which led you back to the burners, and Jack to the remodelled Dean cave without you to watch Home Alone ‘cause it was neither bloody nor magical. There was enough of the latter going round, and apples needed to be tended to.

“Why can’t you just whip this up like everything else?” you said as you stirred the apples, once, twice and thrice as instructed.

“Well, I can’t do all the work, can I? Now. Back the other way,” she said, and you did that, too.

“But how’re—”

“Three times, dear,” she insisted, hovering closer to your side. 

That was… rather precise, sounding more like a spell than a recipe, and you stopped for a moment, reconsidering the repercussions if you continued. 

“Is this—”

“A buh-buh-buh.” She widened her beady eyes. “We’re making this with love. It has to be done correctly.”

“Love?” Yeah, you weren’t touching the stuff when it was done. You’d added every single ingredient that had gone into it so far, but you were still unaware of where it’d all come from besides thin air. 

Where was everything before it popped into sight? It didn’t even make a sound when it did, and, oh god, what if love was a code for something more sinister… or bodily? Could you catch herpes with a special sauce? Wasn’t there a saying about pulling things from asses?

Heh. Dean would appreciate that, and your lips splayed into a smile at the thought of him and his stupid grin. 

“Is there something funny about love?” Mrs Butters asked, and you swallowed. 

If only she knew. “No.” You flicked your head and cleared your throat for good measure, turning just in time to see a metal sieve pop into her hand.

“Where—”

“Apples, dear.” She nodded to the large pot.

Right… Of course.

You set to work, doing as she’d asked. Only she continued to stare, never blinking. Watching every movement of your hand, up and down, left to right, as you scooped the apples out.

“How did you come to be in the bunker?” Her much kinder voice caught you off guard, and… wait. No insult?

No tsks or mentions you were doing it wrong? And how come she got to ask the questions?

“I, ah… Dean invited me to move in a couple of years ago.” You flicked your eyes her way, hoping the bare minimum would satisfy her, and let you get back to concentrating on the apples. 

“That was nice of him,” she said, and you could only agree. It was.

“Do you enjoy living here?”

“It beats stingy motels.” You shrugged.

“Oh. I’m sure it does, but you’re living in such tight quarters.” She waved her hand, and the pot doubled before your eyes. “It’s bound to cause issues between a woman and two men.”

And there it was. The impending insult. 

So that was her problem. You living alone with Sam and Dean? With all the modern technology around, she must’ve realised things had changed since the fifties, and “We’re just friends,” you said. Both brothers were always kind to you, and unlike everything else that moved, Dean had never tried getting into your pants, so things weren’t awkward. There was mutual respect. The odd banter. Comradery.

“With urges.”

If you had a drink, you’d have spat it out. As it was, you dropped your ladle into the pot, only to find the handle, clean and back in your fingers before you had the chance to retort. Yeah, that was more like it. Her moving stuff. 

Urges, though? Is this where all the glances were coming from? The comments about Josie? She didn’t want some floozy perverting her boys? 

“Are you dating anyone?” she asked next, and bingo.

You were right on the money. 

Bitch. You weren’t a floozy.

“Look. I’m not dating Sam or Dean, so you don’t have to worry, alright?” 

“Oh, I know you’re not seeing Samuel.” She chuckled. “He has Eileen.”

Wait. “He does?” She’d been here all of one day. How the hell did she know that when you didn’t? Had she been looking into more than just your dirty laundry? 

Fuck. 

Dean’s magazines. The shoe box in your closet.

You swallowed and flicked your head down to her level, expecting more judgement; but finding empathy in the lines that decorated her face instead. 

“Tell me more about you and Dean,” she said. “I imagine you saw him too this morning?” 

You and Dean.

You and Dean?

What was that supposed to mean, ‘cause the way she’d said it implied the two of you together, and that was far from the truth. It couldn’t happen. He considered you family, and, “Family doesn’t end with blood,” he’d said, which made you sister Winchester. 

Well… not quite. No habit. A tattoo. Josie was far closer to one of them before she became, you know, and Chuck dang it. This shit was messing with your head.

Nuns. Winchesters. You and Dean. Didn’t help that you had caught a gander at what was below his nightgown that morning. 

Yeah… Families don’t seek that out. 

They also don’t think about it after the fact, but ever since Mrs Butters’ little chat in the kitchen, that’s where your mind was going. Every. Time. You. Saw. Him. 

You were more perverted than he was, and carrying the homemade special sauce you’d made to the dinner table that night wasn’t helping.

You stepped up the small step into the library with as much care as you could muster, not wanting to trip in front of the guys. Read, not trying to trip in front of Dean. Screw the pretty gravy boat you carried that Mrs Butters must’ve whipped out of her ass, too.

“This is Mrs Butters’ special sauce,” you said to Sam with a grin, who swiped his tongue over the inside of his cheek.

Dean, as you’d hoped, was more appreciative of the opening you’d thrown at him. You’d chosen your words after all, knowing he’d make something of it and he didn’t disappoint. 

He stood up from his seat to inspect the genie’s lamp-like piece as you placed it in the centre of the first table next to the gravy and giant ham. His hand, finding your shoulder as he did with an electrifying touch. 

“Dunno what you were hoping for, Sammy, but be glad it ain’t white.”

“Not funny.” Sam shuffled in his seat. 

You couldn’t help the snort at his scowl. Your gut couldn’t help the flip at the contact of Dean’s firm grip on your shoulder, either. He was so close, you could smell the gas station aftershave on his clothes over the array of food, and you held your breath.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

You’d admit it was creepy, but Mrs Butters took the whole Christmas cake.

“Oh! Oh! Dears!” she shrieked in glee as she shuffled up to the small step herself to join you. Jack trailing along behind with a stack of plates. “Look.” She clapped her hands, darting her beady eyes upwards. Giving you all no choice but to do the same out of curiosity.

Dear god. “What’s that?” you asked, though your gut flipped again at the inkling. Like the sieve and the gravy boat, the bunch of pale green leaves were new, and it could only mean one thing. 

Sam’s body shuddering in a fit of laughter further confirmed it.

That was not there before, and Mrs Butters sure looked pleased with herself. 

Course she’d made it. Who wouldn’t be proud? Her heels clipped the wooden floorboards as she bounced on the spot. Hands, no longer clapping but balled into fists as she shook them in the air.

“Well. Go ahead! I see a lady standing under the mistletoe, Dean.”

And what was a kiss amongst friends? Siblings? You’d let Dean peck you on the cheek if that would get her off your case, and you turned it to him and poked it with your finger. “C’mon Deano. This sweet skin ain’t gonna kiss itself.”

Thank Chuck he found it funny, too. 

“Right,” he said, and even wagged his brows as he swooped in, letting in all that glittered into those brilliant greens of his. 

It was soft and quick and a terrible idea. Made worse when you patted him on his own shoulder and commended him for his effort. “Not bad.” You fanned yourself for added effect. “No wonder all the girls all fawn over you, huh?” 

Could you shut up now? That was cruel to him and you, but it would seem poking bears had become your speciality. Only this time, this one bit you back.

He huffed. Shook his head with his own tsk of his tongue, and then brought it and his pouty lips down to yours with no time to react.

Whisky. Sugar. Tingles in all the wrong places. Your foot might’ve popped like a scene in a cheesy movie if it weren’t for the chairs in the road. It was soft and quick and a terrible idea on his part, because while he was very much pleased with himself, you couldn’t look at him straight after that.

Dean.

Dean, Dean. 

His name was easy on your tongue, and he on your eyes. 

Through dinner, desert, cleaning up, and Die Hard, they feasted upon his form when he wasn’t looking. 

Yes, you perverted son of a bitch. You couldn’t even do it like you knew he would. Which meant he wasn’t interested, and you could live with that. 

But could Mrs B?

She was meddlesome, and maddening, and she’d tucked your sheets in way too tight to the point they were keeping you awake. Yes. It was her and them alright, and not your hang-up on Dean.

No. Thanks to her, your toes made little mountains that stretched the fabric over your needed-to-know basis legs. The little hairs moving underneath prickled your skin much like a certain someone’s scruff had brushed over your chin and cheek earlier. 

The freckles on his nose. Remnants of his cheap aftershave in yours. Hell, stepping out of your room would give you a real good whiff of the smoke and spice with your door only three down the hall from his. 

But would that make you feel better? God no, but you abso-fucking-lutely gave into the urge and exerted yourself outta bed. You needed a cold drink to cool your jets and soothe your fuzzy insides, anyway. A stiff one, even better, and you stormed out into the hall in search of it all.

Anything to clear your head.

Only every turn you took towards the kitchen found newer Christmas decorations that weren’t there when you’d bid everyone goodnight before. Tinsel here. Glitter there. Mistletoe everywhere, and your brain turned plant hunter and gatherer, decking the halls with forceful fists of fury. 

No more kisses could happen, no matter how innocent Mrs Butters made them appear. Apparitions would remain food related, and when you and your burden made it to the kitchen’s trash can, you wanted to jump in, too.

“Everything okay, dear?” Mrs Butters said with a grin that rivaled Dean’s. The exact one he had on his face, sitting across from her.

Fuck.

His disheveled hair, fresh and damp from a shower. His tight-fitting Henley rolled at the sleeves… Water. You needed that water for your throat yesterday.

“Can’t sleep either, sweetheart?” he asked. 

Sweetheart. What a delectable sound. 

“I, ah… no.” You waltzed over to the cupboard that held the glasses, opening it up, only to find none there. If you were a glass, where would she have put you? 

“Where are the—” 

A tall tumbler full of water popped onto the shelf before your eyes.

Right…

“Would you like some eggnog?” Mrs Butters beamed, but before you could respond, a second glass, full of the stuff, apparated, too, and you stood there stunned.

“Thanks,” you whispered. Mind and soul depleted of all life, and needing the protein. 

You picked them both up with a touch of caution and made your way to the table, soon finding yourself having to choose between the lesser of two evils. Sit next to him or her?

“You’re not wearing the housecoat I left out for you,” sealed the deal.

Dean was safer, and taking the seat on the stool next to him, had you sweeping over your chest as you settled. 

You were braless, but your top was thick enough to cover your nips at least. “Didn’t fit,” you said, slurping a mouthful of eggnog straight after to keep the rest of your thoughts at bay. 

The stuff was potent. The aftertaste choked you on its path down. 

“What’s in this?” you asked at the end of your splutter, as Dean’s palm made contact between your shoulder blades this time. Honestly, it’s what you needed, the kick, not his heavy hand on your back, but Mrs Butters’ continual beaming had you at unease. 

“It’s a secret.” She winked before standing up with yet another clap of her hands. “I’ll leave you two to finish your drinks. Don’t stay up too late. We’ll open the remaining presents in the morning.” 

And with that, the whirlwind that was the old wood nymph was out the door, leaving you alone with the man you weren’t supposed to be thinking about. 

“Isn’t she awesome?” he said.

“Sure makes things interesting.” You took another gulp of your eggnog. It was easier on the throat the second time around, and if it kept your mouth occupied, and your eyes away from Dean’s, you’d drink it all. 

But he hummed, and you drew to it like a moth to a flame. That deep rumble. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat when he spoke. 

“You still think she’s out to get you or something?”

Did you? Though unspoken, she had remarks on your wardrobe and the fact that you weren’t the pin up for a 1950s housewife right outta Stepford. She’d pulled the mistletoe stunt, and brought on this strange fascination with Dean, but she’d done nothing harmful per se. Just… weird.

So what was it? What couldn’t you put your finger on besides the glass of eggnog?

“You know how you’re always going with your gut?” you said, braving a glance his way. 

He nodded.

“I just can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else going on besides the special sauce.”

Part 2 || Part 3 —————————————————————Thank you so much for reading!

Up next in Part 2 - 07/02

Having had enough of his antics, Sam pushed it aside and marched in. He scanned the room the second he had, finding Dean and his purple nightgown with ease.

It was hard not to miss.

As was his one-eyed-snake, reddened and sticking out from under it.

“Dude.” He… He… “Would you put that thing away?”

Thank Chuck, Dean listened to that instruction. It was bad enough seeing it before in the kitchen, not hard. This was… This was… “What the hell do you want me for?” And what was he supposed to tell Eileen?

“It’s stuck.”

It… “What do you mean it’s stuck? Just beat it out and go to sleep.” —————————————————————

DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn

If you'd like to be tagged, please Imk.

[hiimnothere1]

Imagine sitting at your desk and you get a notification from your phone. It's a message from me after we just recently met.

The message is just a video attachment that you open up to find that it's just a video of you laying on your bed taking my cock.

You don't remember this every happening, but it's for sure you. You remember the one night we both went out to drinks, but there's just that chunk of memory you forgot.

You were told that you were too drunk and passed out and you believed it like the dumb whore you are.

The video continues with you just barely conscious enough to make noises that can only be done by a broken whore and be obidedient to my orders.

"Tighten your stupid hole"

"You like this dont you?"

"For being drugged up, your body sure is honest on what it wants"

You can see that your body is covered in cum. It's leaking from your holes, in your chest, hair, and stomach.

"You wanna cum dont you?"

You can see that you suddenly snap back to life in the video, nodding your head like a rabid animal

"Y-Yesh sirr~" you manage out

My hands creep their way from your collarbone and around your neck and clamp down suddenly. Your body instinctively puts its hands around my wrists as you hear the sounds of your choking come through your phone.

The thrusting picks up more violently, and each time it slams into you, a pathetic noise comes out of you. Finally, you see your body start twitching violently as your back starts to arch and you wrap your legs around my hip.

You can see more cup drip out of you as you can assume I dump more into you.

Your body let's go of me as the camera gets picked up and brought closer to your face as the thing that was just inside of you is placed upon your mouth.

"Clean it"

Without missing a beat, your mouth opens and accepts it inside of you. And with that, the video cuts.

[deunmiu-dessie]

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 23 c.o.d men rambles with nsfw visuals (p-links) ♡

featuring!— kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish, simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘captain’ price, phillip graves, könig, vladimir makarov! ♡

₁ 𐙚 imagine fucking john doggy style, and he’s jus’ so horny for you so you guys don't even make it to the bed :( he tosses you onto the couch and lifts your ass into the air, his thick, meaty cock bruising your insides. then he grips your hair and bends you back to slant his lips over yours in a messy kiss 😖

₂ 𐙚 having a sloppy make-out session with gaz when he gets back from a mission. sucking on his tongue and whimpering into his mouth while his big hands run up and down your thighs and ass. gaz always gets you so needy and wet before he dicks you down, having tears streaming down your face and thighs trembling :((

₃ 𐙚 soap fucking his cum back into your swollen pussy while whining and whimpering, promising to get you pregnant; thick and hard at the thought of you round with his kids. he pumps your pussy to the brim with his cum that night, til it drips down your thighs.

₄ 𐙚 gaz loves to record the two of you having sex, and loves to send it to the 141 group chat. loves to show off his pretty girl whose pussy takes his big cock so well :( loves to show them how well you moan and beg, loves to show them your fucked out face, loves the way the team goes feral as you moan their names with bleary eyes and drool spilling down your chin. loves to show them that regardless, you're his.

₅ 𐙚 simon using your pussy as a cumdump... literally, when you act like a brat. he'll have you lay naked across the bed, hand fisting his cock as gazes at your tits, your needy cunt drooling and clenching. he'll watch as you cry and beg for him to fuck you, your wrists bound together and tied to the headboard. then he'll press his thick tip into your pussy and spill himself inside. brats don't get to cum, as he likes to say— sorry :(

₆ 𐙚 kyle 'will overstimulate you while pussydrunk' garrick. baby gaz just loves the taste of your pussy, especially after going so long without it :( you're so warm and sweet, needy and sobbing-- and he's missed the feel of your thick thighs wrapped around his head, missed the feeling of your hands running through his hair. so, just let him enjoy his meal.

₇ 𐙚 needy soap who swears he'll just rock against your panties, his thick cock nudging your fattened clit which presses eagerly against the pre-cum soaked fabric. soap who moves your panties to the side and shushes you with a kiss to your lips, swearing he'll just thrust against you; thumb brushing against your bundle of nerves. soap who loses himself in the moment, gripping your thighs and looking at you with pleading eyes, swearing he'll only use the tip, thick, bulbous head already stretching your pussy. 🥺

₈ 𐙚 after you had the baby, john can't stop thinking about seeing you swollen and round again, with your breasts heavy, and thighs thick. john who breeds your pussy at any moment he can. whether it be with you bent over the counter and cooking dinner, with you sleep; your pussy warm and welcoming, or even in the shower, your milk-heavy tits pressed against the shower door. ( bonus )

₉ 𐙚 makarov who finally gives in to your pleading demands, his hands rough as he forces you onto the bed, yanking down your skirt and pulling your panties to the side. his gaze is cold and calculating, even a bit annoyed. makarov who snatches the loli from your mouth, running it up your slick pussy before pushing it in. "Это то, что вы хотели, да?"

₁₀ 𐙚 he makes sure to fuck you well before he leaves on a mission, his thick cock bullying your slick cunt full of his cum. gaz makes sure you know who your pussy belongs to, makes sure he has your thighs trembling in his arms as he fucks you against the shower wall.

₁₁ 𐙚 simon loves to watch you ride him, loves to have your tits in his face, taking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth. loves to hear you whine that your cumming for the fifth time, loves to watch as his abdomen becomes sticky with your creamy cum. loves watching your lips tremble and your eyes water as he thrusts sharply into you, knocking on your cervix and bruising it.

₁₂ 𐙚 having sex with gaz always overstimulates you in every sense of the word and not just with your body. gaz loves to watch you fall apart on his cock, loves to grab your chin and keep your eyes locked with his, loves to watch your gaze get bleary and your mouth struggle to form words all while his hand moves in quick figure eights on your clit, cock spearing through you deliciously. gaz will press kisses to your swollen lips, groaning into your mouth. "on me, luv. le' me see those gorgeous eyes."

₁₃ 𐙚 price loves to suck on your tits, while his cock slowly pumps in and out of you. loves to bury his face into the valley, placing kisses and sucking hickies. john price sucks on your nipples like a man starved, thick hands squeezing and kneading :(

₁₄ 𐙚 imagine getting punished by boyfriend graves because you fucked up during a mission, the objective getting away. he tells everyone to leave the room, glaring eyes stuck on yours. graves who orders you to strip, pushing you down against a busted couch, yanking down your combat pants, and tearing your panties. graves who angrily unzips himself, as you blubber and plead, pussy leaking and ready. he watches as your pussy struggles to take his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you apologize repeatedly. "don't want to fucking hear it, sergeant."

₁₅ 𐙚 gaz fucking you into the bed after he gets home from a mission gone awry. soft lover gaz who just can't be his usual giving self. gaz who takes what he needs from you, regardless of the tears that stream down our face.

₁₆ 𐙚 könig, all needy can't help but fuck your thighs, whimpering and whining :(

₁₇ 𐙚 having a threesome with soap and gaz; who can't help but record as soap practically makes love to you with his eyes. gaz who could care less as you forget all about his cock, breathing heavily as he watches as your pussy struggles to swallow soap's cock. gaz who sends the video to the 141 group chat.

₁₈ 𐙚 imagine makarov sharing your pussy with yuri as a reward to the man. makarov who guides your mouth over his cock, all while sipping on his alcohol; yuri fucking into your pussy needily, grunting and groaning as you squeeze around him.

₁₉ 𐙚 100 percent believe this is how gaz and soap eat you out, prove me wrong. i'll wait. ( bonus: since soap made you cum first, you granted his wish. )

₂₀ 𐙚 john overstimulating you while whispering how much of a good girl you are, slapping at your thighs when you cringe away from him, his thick fingers finding your clit again. john who fucks into ravenously, cooing as you shudder and buck against him.

₂₁ 𐙚 graves finally puts your smart mouth to work, shoving his thick length down your throat. graves angrily saying your pussy isn't good enough for his cock. his words, not mine.

₂₂ 𐙚 angry sex with toxic gaz, who swears no one will ever fuck you as good as he will. who tells you that you belong to him, that you were made for each other, that you won't leave him. who fucks you dumb until you promise to stay.

₂₃ 𐙚 soap swears he won't cum inside you...

spent hours scrolling through twitter porn, help me.😔

[ryiju-muunie]

Your boyfriend who sleepily fondled your naked body as you both napped together on your bed, letting calloused fingers drag along skin. Who pulled his erection out of his pants to drag his head along your ass, pressing against your warmth to satiate his heat.

He was so lust drunk off your scent it was hard to grasp what he was doing until the pleasure started. Hips grinding against your behind, fingers gripping into your stomach, and legs entangling upon legs. It felt so good how you squirmed underneath him, none the wiser.

His calloused fingers dipped into your wetness, to play along your clit as your mouth opened. It felt so good right? As he ground his erection into your ass and whimpered, “F-Fuck.. you feel so good..”

Your boyfriend spread you apart and slowly let one digit get sucked into your cunt, rubbing against your walls until it hit that perfect spot. Again he abused it, getting closer to his high and pulling one orgasm out of your sleeping body. You whined and bucked your hips as you came, releasing your fluids onto his palm.

“Good girl… that’s it..” He’d coo, pulling his hand back to lick his fingers from your juices as his orgasm started to build. It was slow before it got intense, blinding him with white hot pleasure. He bucked his hips and for a second he was sure he woke you when his spend squirted all along your back. But he was pleasantly surprised to hear you stir and snore softly, drifting back to sleep.

Your boyfriend who’d deny the claims he fucked you senseless while you slept, even though the evidence was stuck to your back.

Strawpage | Bluesky

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley drabble - simon is a bit of a creep also lol

Bluecollar!Simon Riley whose house floods so he has to spend the next few days in a cheap, seedy motel

First morning there he's leaving for work just as the sun is rising. Its hot, humid, and he's a shitty mood because he'll be working all day and it's only gonna get hotter

Simon Riley who smokes a couple cigs before he goes, sitting on a plastic lawn chair on his concrete faux patio when he sees you

You're flustered, damp with sweat and skin sun-kissed. You've got a laundry basket on your hip and immediately he's imagining a baby there instead. His baby.

Simon Riley who's shameless about staring at you struggling with the laundry door, dropping your clothes and giving him a view of your wide hips and plush ass in very short pajama shorts

You're so flustered:(( nearly in tears while you pick everything up. The shorts are a little tight, a little worn, and the thin material gives him just enough of a view of your pussy that it sustains him the whole day :')

All he can imagine is coming back and sinking into you :') not even necessarily fucking right away, but keeping his cock warm and relieving the tension in his body. He deserves that, no?

He's not creeping, necessarily, when he takes note of the lotion you use. Vanilla. He just happened to be having a smoke and walking right by your window, where you've got one foot propped on a chair rubbing it into your skin.

Your room is tidy. Despite the stained walls, cracks in the ceiling and overall dingy-ness, you've managed to make it look cozy.

New sheets, a fluffy blanket, string lights strung across the wall. Beside you, lotions and creams and washes - he snorts a little to himself. The bathrooms here don't have any counter space or mirrors to set them down on.

But his house does. In fact, most of his shelves are empty everywhere. His pantry, his closets. The only thing he's got are work clothes and beers in the fridge. Maybe a stray heel of bread.

Simon Riley who decides he'll have you move in before he even talks to you, before he starts memorizing your schedule on the weekends and evenings he gets home. You're struggling, on the edge of homelessness, but he knows you'd be the perfect wife and mother. That you'd bring light and warmth to his house, fill those empty shelves and empty rooms...

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

CW: Aphrodisiacs, Dubcon, Cervix Penetration

Imagine dating a monster whose saliva acts a potent aphrodisiac. Cumming endlessly on their thick tongue as it rams your cunt and twists within your womb. The flood of slick pouring out of your cunt mixing deliciously with their saliva.

They can’t fit their cock inside you but they’ll be damned if they don’t stuff your womb.

The worse is the aftermath. Their aphrodisiac saliva now covers your cunt inside and out. Creating an itch of throbbing arousal that can’t be abated. Your monster boyfriend watches amusedly as you spend the rest of the day trying to be productive. Catching you rutting against pillows and table corner.

You beg for their tongue once more and it smiles. You will be stuck in this lewd cycle for as long as you’re addicted to its tongue. 

[megwritesriddles]

In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.

Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 3.7k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–

He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.

“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.

“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.

“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"

“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.

“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.

Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.

“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.

“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.

He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.

After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.

Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.

One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.

“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.

“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.

“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.

“Can you eat me out again?”

And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[wintertraumaposting]

She pushes the pacifier in between your lips. The instant the delicious, drug-coated teat meets your tongue you can't imagine attempting to remove the pacifier or trying to swat her hand away.

Instinctively, you suck and the drug flows into your system, working its way to your brain in mere seconds.

What were you doing? Everything seems like so much now. So big. It's so hard to think when you feel so very small, so very little.

The frustration you held onto moments ago drifts away into nothing. The woman's face softens and you giggle. She seems nice!

"Easier to handle now!~" she coos.

You're not sure what she means, but the happy intonation in her voice is infectious to you.

Your giggles continue as she scoops you up. Your addled mind sees no reason to feel unsafe. She's so smiley and happy, and she's whispering lots of nice things about how good you're going to be.

You suckle away on the yummy pacifier. All the big thoughts drift out of your mind. No worries. No cares. Just a soft, pampered little thing.

[desperatemajyyk]

straddling a priest on a pew, feeling his clothed cock stiffen under you. he tries to object, stammering, but you can tell he wants it just as much as you do. you wait, giving him every chance to truly stop you, to yell, to push you, anything. he doesn't. all he does is mutter prayers to god, not asking for this to end, but to be forgiven.

his prayers are replaced with pathetic, needy noises as you slowly grind against him. it takes practically no time for him to cum in his own pants.

he's crying silently, but it's okay. you kiss his face and lick his tears and whisper reassurances that no one will know. you're certain that this won't be the last time this happens, and that next time you won't be the one who has to initiate it.

[deunmiu-dessie]

innocent!commoner reader who diligently gathers berries in the forest every day for the village children. innocent!commoner reader who happens to stumble upon a wounded soul along their customary route through the woods. innocent!commoner reader whose pure heart and selfless nature guides them to tend to him. innocent!commoner reader who prattles to the unconscious man every day when they check up on him. innocent!commoner reader who ought to be frightened of the monstrous being. innocent!commoner reader who should've just left him there. ˙◠˙

injured!minotaur who wakes up to the sight of a tiny human nestled at his hip, sleep. injured!minotaur who accidentally startles you awake with a pained rumble. injured!minotaur who thanks you begrudgingly for tending to his injuries. injured!minotaur who gradually becomes accustomed to your presence and your chatter as the days pass while he waits for a full recovery. injured!minotaur who finds your naivety cute. injured!minotaur who suddenly finds himself wanting to corrupt you in every possible way. injured!minotaur who mischievously tells you that the only way for him to get better is by using your body. injured!minotaur who forcefully removes your clothing despite your whiny protests. injured!minotaur who promises he'll be all better after using your tiny human hole. injured!minotaur who groans as you willingly part your legs for him, with wide, innocent, tear-filled eyes. "i-if you're sure it'll help." ˙ᵕ˙

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[beastgoddk]

Beloved pet...

[mossangelll]

yandere!silco x reader hcs

honestly i’m convinced silco is a FREAK and i need to unleash my thoughts…anyways toxic silco does NOT have a hr department and it shows 👁️👁️

tw: suggestive content, drug use, dubcon - mdni

yandere!silco who hires you to work the bar at the last drop part time

yandere!silco who doesn’t see anything special about you at first - you’re just another person on his payroll

yandere!silco who slowly becomes intrigued by how witty and engaging you are with the customers

yandere!silco who appreciates your loyalty when sevika tells him that enforcers met with you to offer money, lots of it, in exchange for information on the chembaron operations - you declined and spit in their faces

yandere!silco who finds you crying in the back alley one night over the large debt you gathered from trying to help a sick family member

yandere!silco who sees an opening and gives you a full-time position at the bar - little do you know you’re slowly getting caught up in his trap

yandere!silco who can’t bear to be around you without acting on his base desires. he can’t stop thinking about your pretty face and how the uniform hugs your body just right

yandere!silco who gets painfully jealous when he sees you flirting with customers and takes his frustrations out by ordering his henchmen to beat up the people that dared flirt with you

yandere!silco who offers a sympathetic ear and gains your trust

yandere!silco who blurs the line between appropriate employee-boss behaviour by constantly inviting you to his office after-hours in the hope of making you feel special. after all, who else gets his undivided attention like this?

yandere!silco who gets you to inject his eye one evening to fully consolidate your bond to him

yandere!silco who pressures you try shimmer for the first time even though you’re hesitant - “what, you don’t trust your boss, hm? you know i would never dream of hurting you.”

yandere!silco who smiles when you give into his silky voice and caresses your cheek

yandere!silco who starts to call you his “pet” but you shrug it off as just friendly nickname

yandere!silco who gives you more and more shimmer as time passes until you can’t function without it

yandere!silco who can’t help but pleasure himself in his office whilst you work below him, knowing that he was the one to corrupt you

yandere!silco who knows you can’t afford the shimmer and leaves you high and dry

yandere!silco who tuts whenever he sees you at the bar, barely able to do your job, and secretly delights in the shame that crosses your face

yandere!silco who calls you into the office under the guise of discussing your poor work performance

yandere!silco who offers you a deal: you quit your job and become his pet in exchange for all the shimmer you could ask for

yandere!silco who holds a vial in his outstretched hand but snatches it away just before your shaky hands could reach it - “ah ah, naughty pet. i deserve something first, don’t you think?”

yandere!silco who reaches into his drawer and pulls out a wine-red collar with gold studs and tells you to kneel before him

yandere!silco who can’t contain his wolffish grin as you scramble over to kneel by his feet, looking up at him with wide, begging eyes and such a…tempting pout

yandere!silco who takes a swig of the shimmer and grabs you into a bruising kiss, tongue melding with yours as you drink the shimmer straight from him

yandere!silco who digs his fingers into the flesh of your waist when you start to whimper, forcing himself to take it slow

yandere!silco who pulls back to look at the blooming swell of your spit-slick lips and the drugged out look on your face with satisfaction - you will always be his

masterlist

[diejager]

It got deleted again 😂

Thoughts on dark childhood best friend!Johnny! Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, thigh fucking, somnophilia, tell me if I missed any.

He’s always been a bit touchy since you were kids, holding your hand, hugging you, kissing your cheek or even pressing himself against you whenever he could. It had always been innocent as kids, some kind of puppy-love that you were willing to give back, looking for him whenever you were out, eyes cued to look for the familiar blues that you came to love so much. You were neighbours, living right across from him in a quaint house, unbothered by many siblings that his mother kept popping out.

Your mother was sweet, letting him come by whenever he wanted to escape the hectic mess of his house, and you were the sweetest thing he’d ever known. You were so willing to act as his distraction, pulling him away from the chaos and into your safe haven : your room. It quickly became his room as much as it was yours, he spent so many nights sleeping in your room, sharing your bed with him, his arms wrapped around your hip and face nuzzled in your hair.

Once puberty rolled in, his voice deepening and facial hair growing, he started packing more weight and strength, his ego swelling with all the dopey eyes he received from girls his age and older, but they never strayed from you. He only had eyes for you, his best friend. They roved over your aging body, your breast swelling and hips becoming a dangerous temptation to him. He knew you looked at him as nothing but your best friend, the guy you grew up playing with and sharing happy moments, but he couldn’t stop the growing tent in his briefs when he jumped in bed with you at night.

He didn’t feel guilty about getting hard at the sight of you in shorts and an oversized t-shirt, it was natural, a reaction towards the opposite sex being so clearly comfortable with him. He became much more intimate with the placements of his hands, they would slip under your shirt, over the softness of your stomach and under your growing boobs. Despite your protest and sleepy grumble, he’d steal a touch of your pebbled nipples, round and hard before dipping down your waist and placing them a bit too high on your thighs to be considered platonic.

You complained but rarely retaliated because he reasoned with you that a lot of best friends were this touchy, grinding your ass when you were sleeping on your stomach, groping your softness while he panted and groaned, his cock leaking a wet patch on his pants. This was normal, he had rights to you that none other had because Johnny was your childhood best friend.

“One more, Bonnie,” he gasped, gazing at your lips, open and glistening with drool while you slept, unaware that he was rutting against your thigh, “A need one more, please.”

[2jihiir0]

“What do you say, Stevie… Should we show them what a desperate slut you really are?”

see full version here!

[loomiseater]

Some Fun

warnings: smut ofc!, dub con, intercourse, and cum eating.

Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.

Billy Loomis x fem!reader

Request page

Masterlist

Written: July 17th, 2024- August 4th, 2024

Published: August 4th, 2024

Summary: Billy wants to have some fun with you.

wc: 1,599

request: ok so it's the end of the movie and billy decided to fuck reader instead of killing reader.

“Oh, don’t think we’ve forgot about you, Y/n” Billy teasingly said as he pointed the knife at me. “Please- I didn’t do anything! Please Billy! I’m begging you, don’t kill me!” I pleaded to him on my knees. It was like he was secretly getting off to it.

Him and Stu were both a bunch of sick fucks. 

“Tell me…why should I not kill you?” He asked me. I don’t know? Maybe because I want to see my future?! I didn’t answer him but instead I looked around the kitchen and the doorways to see if Stu was around. He was no where in sight..so I ran for it.

I hurried up the stairs but Billy was hot on my trail. As he was running up the stairs after me I grabbed the glass vase and threw it at him to slow him down. And it did slow him down, I ran into Stu’s parents room and locked the door. As soon as I ran into the room I saw Sidney’s body. 

She was dead. My best friend was dead. Her throat had been slit along with stab wounds in her stomach, she didn’t deserve to go out like that. I fell down to the ground to hug her one last time. 

As I gave her a kiss to the forehead, I was met with Stu rushing out of the closet grabbing me from behind. He was laughing as I was kicking and screaming. “Let me go!” I shouted. “Now why would I do that?” He questioned with his head tilted. 

Before I answered him I broke down in tears. “I didn’t do anything to you two! Please! Just let me live, I won’t call the cops! I’ll keep it a secret!” I pleaded. “We both know that’s not true, sweetheart” Stu said as he gripped my jaw. “Ounch!” 

He pulled me out of his parents room and dragged me into his bedroom where Billy was waiting. He was sat on Stu’s bed smoking a cigarette but soon blew it out when I was thrown on the bed next to him. As I sat up, Billy traced my cheek with his blood covered hand and I was shaking in fear.

“You can leave now” Billy said to Stu, not even acknowledging him. It was now Just Billy and I in the room. The silence was so loud and so scary. Was he about to murder me next?

“You’re pretty, you know that?” It sounded as if it was a question but I didn’t answer. “I’ve always wanted you Y/n. Since the first time we met in 8th grade, but you never gave me a chance” he started off as he pushed some of my hair back. “But now..I’m gonna take that chance” Billy said before he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me.

I hesitated at first but eventually gave in. I eventually pulled away from the kiss, now feeling guilty. I’m kissing the man who murdered my friends. 

I tried to get up off the bed but Billy yanked me but down as I shrieked. “The hell do you think you’re going?” He asked with a glare. “This isn’t right Billy! You and Stu MURDERED our friends- I’m not doing anything with you” I explained before crossing my arms.

“The hell you are” He responded before grabbing my and pushing me roughly on the bed. “What I say goes” he sternly said as he pointed to himself. “You’re not the boss of me!” I snapped back.

He pushed my chest down with one hand so he could show his dominance. 

“Be quiet!” He lowly but sternly said as he was now face to face with me. 

Billy started pulling my skirt down along with my blood stained top. My face began to feel hot and tears started falling. The quiet room was now filled with my quiet sobs and Billy’s shushes.

“Hey, look at me. Don’t cry” He softly said as he gave me another kiss. He soon leaned down and started placing kisses on the exposed parts of my chest. As much as I don’t wanna admit it, his kisses were turning me on, my panties were beginning to feel soaked.

Billy unhooked my bra and tossed it to the floor. He grabbed my right boob and kissed it before he sucked my nipple. I tried to hold back but a moan slipped out. “Don’t hold back, baby” he replied as I closed my eyes shut.

As he was sucking my boobs, his hands roamed free on my body before they stopped at my entrance. His thumb began rubbing small circles over my clothed clit. “Billy- please!” I whined as I gripped his wrist. He let out a dark chuckle before he answered to my whines.

“Please what? Go faster?” He said with a sinister grin. He picked up the pace and my legs began to shake. “I knew you’d like this. Dirty whore” he stated before I squirted. It was all on my panties and on the palm of his hand.

“Beautiful” he whispered as he went in to kiss my inner thighs. He pulled my panties off and in my head I kept telling myself that I don’t want it but my body was craving it. 

Him, his touch, his dick…

Billy unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down along with his underwear. He pulled his dick out and I was amazed at the size. My eyes widened. He was at least 8 inches, the tip was red, the shaft was veiny, and he was leaking pre cum.

“Ya know? I was gonna stretch you out but im tired of waiting. And you haven’t been all that nice to me today” he arrogantly said, almost as if I was in the wrong. “Maybe because you murdered MY friends! Are you insane?” I shouted. I was furious at his statement. Does he not hear himself?!

He grabbed my throat tightly as he pushed himself inside. The stretch was intense yet pleasureful. He bottomed out in me as he leaned his back groaning. “Billy!” I moaned. 

He pulled back out and shoved himself back in beginning to thrust. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this exact moment” he expressed. Billy removed his hand from my throat and began to grip my hips. 

I started moaning loudly, there’s no point of bothering to hide the pleasure anymore. I’m already wet.  “Good girl” he grunted. His thrusts soon began to get rough and the sound of our skin clapping against each other filled the room.

His balls slapped abasing my clit and to be completely honest this is the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. I was filled with lust but also guilt. I was having sex with a murderer. Im just as bad as Billy and Stu.

“Mhhm you like that?” Billy moaned as he placed kissed along my neck. “Yes baby, feels- so good!” I replied as my eyes rolled back. He grabbed my legs and pushed them all the way back until they touched my ears.

His dick was digging deeper than it was before with this new angle. And I loved it. “Shit! I’m about to cum!” He moaned in my ear as whines left my throat. My legs were still pushed back as he began giving me powerful, slow thrusts. “Look at you creaming on my dick” he whispered.

“I love you’re dick so much!” I shouted as tears fell down my face. “I want this pretty pussy to cum on my dick, cmon baby, I know you can” He said in a husky voice. I don’t know but the voice just did it for me.

Suddenly the feeling in my stomach snapped and I came on his dick. “Ohh yesss” I screamed as my orgasm washed over me. Billy was still fucking me bust his thrusts got slow and sloppy, I knew he was coming to an end. 

He pulled out of me and came on my stomach. I looked down and the creamy substance and he swiped some of it with his fingers and shoved them in my mouth. I sucked the cum of his fingers as his rolled back and groans slipped from his mouth.

He eventually got up and began to put his clothes back on as I covered myself with the bed sheet. 

“Put you’re fucking clothes on you’re coming with us” he demanded. I didn’t want to anger him so I did as told without any back talk. I see how well that went for my friends…

As I was putting my shoes back on he walked over to me and stood in front of me. “Me and Stu are skipping town and you’re coming with us. We’re gonna go to the store, grab a couple of things, and leave” he stated.

I simply nodded my head and followed him out the room and downstairs to the front door. I was met with Randy’s dead body. He had been stabbed in his throat several times along with a bullet to the shoulder.

It took everything in me to hold my tears back. My friends were dead and I’m skipping town with their murderers..not like I had much of a choice though.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Stu appeared next to me. “Maybe Billy will let me have some fun with you” he said with a evil smirk on his face. “Not a chance, fuck rag!” Billy replied as he shoved Stu in the shoulder. ‘Ow!” Stu winced.

[jejewonster]

Tag, You're It.

he chased me and he wouldn't stop. tag, you're it 𖥔. ˖ ࣪𓂃 

⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  pairing: l.sm x f!reader ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  genre: smut, dubcon (MDNI 18+ only)

⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  wc: 3,090

— seokmin abhors your clear distaste for him. and he’ll do just about anything to change that. ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  smut tags & warnings: DUBCON, somnophilia, deflowering, corruption kink, oral (reader), creampie, multiple positions, mating press. slightly yandere!seokmin, reader is a lightweight and gets drunk easily. narcisstic!seokmin, reader is 'drugged’ by seokmin, if i have missed any warnings please let me know. ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  a/n: read my guidelines. please do not take these warnings lightly. don't like, don't read, and feel free to block me if this isn't your cup of tea. thank u to @sunniques for beta-reading ♡.

seokmin has spent his life playing the good boy role, hiding behind the facade of someone well-liked, kind, and attentive. everyone knows him for his charming persona, everyone is in love with him. 

except you. 

he didn’t understand your clear disdain for him. you had always done everything in your power to avoid him. the more you ran away, the more it intrigued him. 

the first time he laid his eyes on you, he wasn’t sure what to think. you were obviously attractive and a little shy, but your beauty was not something that could be described so simply. 

the more he tried to interact with you, to get to know you the more you pushed him away. leaving group conversations mid-sentence, sitting on the opposite side of the lecture hall… you were too obvious. 

seokmin hates when he cannot control how people perceive him. he needs to fulfill the expectations he had set: the perfect man. and if you didn’t fall for it, then he would just have to take matters into his own hands. 

…

his plan is simple— or at least simple enough for him to execute without getting caught. 

it’s the end of midterms, and your classmate somehow was able to convince you to join in on the group hangout. sat in the very corner of the booth, you looked around with eyes reminiscent of a newborn fawn. wide-eyed and just so lost. 

seokmin can help with that. 

“hey, anyone down to do a round of shots?” he asks the group, looking around to find everyone humming in agreement. 

boring holes into your figure, he sees that you’re the only one who seems reluctant to take a drink. well, seokmin can’t have that. 

you were quite the people pleaser, something he found out through his observations. it can’t be that hard to get you to at least take one shot. 

“are you not drinking?” your only acquaintance out of the group asks. 

turning to look at her, you shrug your shoulders. 

you didn’t have a ride home tonight, but you didn’t live too far. if you somehow find a way to stay sober, it won’t be too hard to slip out without anyone noticing. 

“i think i’ll pass, gotta walk home later,” your voice is meek, but your friend can’t help but frown. 

she shakes your shoulder as if attempting to pull you out of a trance. 

“c’mon! just one? we’re all here to celebrate!” she continues to push. 

filled with uncertainty, you reluctantly agree to her demands. it might be the only way she shuts up. 

sighing, you give in. “fine. just one. i’m too much of a lightweight though, so after that, i’m done.” 

a cheer erupts from her mouth, satisfied in being able to convince you to “let loose” for once. 

you don’t even know how you even got here in the first place. and you definitely didn’t think seokmin would be joining either. but now that you’re sitting there, in the corner of the booth, you know there’s no way to escape him now. 

it’s not that you hated him. god, no. you just had a bad feeling about his persona. it was almost like he was too nice. you weren’t sure what had your intuition swaying the moment you laid your eyes on him, but you simply can’t shake the eerie feeling that he gives off. 

“shots are here!” seokmin announces, handing everyone a glass. his charming smile practically blinds you, but anyone who isn’t entranced by him can see the dark energy behind his gaze. 

the way his smile never reaches his eyes, no matter how hard he tries. it had shivers running down your spine. who is the real lee seokmin? 

by the time there’s one shot remaining, your eyes meet. heartbeat drumming incessantly in your chest, you watch as his eyes piece through your very being. 

“you gonna take it?” he asks you. 

the breath in your throat is caught. this is probably the first time he’s ever spoken directly to you, and it has you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. 

“u-uh sure? why not?” you chuckle nervously before grabbing the glass out of his hand. 

placing the rim of the shot glass to your lips, you swallow the alcohol without a second thought. seokmin’s eyes burn into your soul as you swallow every last drop. you weren’t sure why he was observing you so intensely, but you tried your best not to think too much about it. 

… 

an hour passes and seokmin continues to keep his undivided attention on you. the shot glass he gave you was stronger than the rest, and he could only hope that’s all he needed to do to get you pliant for him. 

your eyes are glossed over, staring into the distance. even in a drunken state you’re still so quiet. he can only wonder how loud you might get once he gets the chance to fuck you. 

“you doing okay?” seokmin asks as he slips into the empty space beside you. 

everyone else at your table is too drunk or too busy to even pay attention to either you or seokmin. he can’t help but congratulate himself inside his mind, everything always works out in his favour. 

“yeah, just feeling tired. i-i think i should go home,” you mumble. 

exiting through the other side of the booth, the side seokmin wasn’t sitting on, you tumble out of the cramped space with clumsy steps. 

you’re on the verge of falling over, so seokmin quickly steadies you, grabbing your waist with lightning speed. the blush on your cheeks is obvious, both from embarrassment and the little alcohol you had taken. 

his face inches towards yours, the same ominous smile on his lips. 

“let me give you a ride. it’s not safe to walk alone this late at night.” 

… 

seokmin snatches the keys from your bag, your body slumped against his side as he unlocks your front door. with ragged breaths against his neck,  his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. 

the alcohol is doing wonders. 

you were practically in and out of consciousness. seokmin had no idea it would have this much of an effect on you. Even though you did seem like a lightweight, he was assuming you were able to take more than one shot. obviously, his assumptions were very wrong. 

the effects of the alcohol should be wearing off soon, but that didn’t matter to seokmin anymore. he had you in his clutches and he has no plans to let you go. 

without wasting another second, he makes his way to your bedroom. opening and closing each door until he’s found your safe space. 

the last door down the hall by the bathroom. your room is cute, typical for someone of your age. several manga line the shelves of your bookcase, but he has no interest in indulging in your hobbies. not when you look absolutely ravishing under the moonlight that peeks through your curtains. 

your eyes are closed as you snuggle into his side. he can feel you twitch every so often, breaths shallow and warm. 

laying you onto your mattress, seokmin doesn’t waste any more of his time. his cock straining against his pants at the very thought of you taking him in every possible way that he’s been imagining. 

you flip onto the bed, your brows furrowing from all the sudden movement, but your eyes stay shut despite all the commotion. seokmin is unbelievably hard now, to the point his cock pulses at the sight of you. 

the sinister smile on his face intensifies, staring down at you as you stir in your drunken state. laying there, you stir in your vulnerability like a mere fawn waiting to be hunted like prey. everything had fallen into place so easily, it’s almost like you were destined to get your cunt fucked by him. 

seokmin’s hands roam your body with deliberate fervour, squeezing your thighs till they quiver open ever so slightly. his nails imprint your skin with half-moon-shaped marks. how did he get so lucky?

the whimper you let out resonates in his eardrums, clearly the drink he gave you was just enough that you’re at least reacting to his touch. 

“bet you taste like a fucking dream,” seokmin whispers. 

whether you register his words at all doesn’t matter to him. he just wants you as his little cock sleeve. to fuck, to cum into, everything. seokmin fantasizes about a time when you’ve become so pliant to his wishes, bouncing on his cock and taking everything he gives you. 

his nose trails along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent until he’s face to face with the wet patch staining the cloth of your lacy thong. only a complete slut would be turned on over something so simple. with a deep inhale, he gets one last whiff of your sweet nectar before he dives in. 

tearing your panties with calculated movements, seokmin mouths at your pussy, making out with the folds of your delicious cunt till your slick drips from his chin. the juices that flow from your hole show just how much you truly are enjoying this. how could you not? seokmin is the perfect guy for you. 

a little shove and you’ve fallen right into his trap. 

there’s one hand gripping at your thigh, while the other starts to ascend to the peak between your legs. his fingers prod at your entrance, sticking two digits in before curling them inside you. seokmin groans against your skin, the squelches that emit from you cause his cock to twitch even more than before.

a few seconds pass until seokmin is satisfied with the defilement of your virgin hole. agile fingers crawl towards the notches in his belt, unbuckling the leather from his waist until his pants plop towards the hardwood. 

as if on cue, your eyes snap open, although that's the least of seokmin’s worries. if anything, your sudden consciousness has turned his night into a great one. 

“oh. you’re awake,” he grins down at your half-naked body, tongue shooting out to lick his lips. 

“w-what are you doing here?” your voice wavers, eyes wide and filled with fear. your thighs clamp shut as you feel the cool breeze gust against your bare pussy.  

seokmin chuckles, his figure brooding over your defenceless body, cock exposed, long and standing proud; ready for you to take without a complaint. one of his large palms grazes against your knees until they force your legs open again. 

“you invited me here.” 

“no? i would never…” you trail off, but the past few hours were all a blur. 

as you try to recall this past night, your memory falls short. the last thing that arises from your mind is the cold rim of a shot glass brushing against your lips. 

your worst nightmare doesn’t dare speak, waiting for you to finally realize that situation you’ve been put in. parallel to a debilitated sheep in the hands of a ravenous wolf, you’re left to die in his hands. 

fuck everyone. fuck your classmate for peer pressuring you to drink that damn shot, and especially fuck seokmin for taking advantage of you. 

“fuck you,” you spit out, but your mind is still swimming. the alcohol had affected you more than you’d like. 

the thought of even trying to defend yourself only leaves you feeling sick. dazed and confused, you lie beneath him in utter despair. 

“you will, and just know i’ll make it worth your while,” seokmin leans down, lips sweeping over yours. “you’re quite the lightweight. couldn’t even take a second shot before you’re begging me to take you home.” 

the pulse in your veins intensifies, the heartbeat drumming within your chest could probably pierce your flesh till blood splatters against your torso. 

“be a good girl, yeah? your pussy is already soaking,” seokmin whispers in your ear, licking right underneath it sensually. 

your breath hitches and he smiles against your neck. his hands grip your thighs once more, his tip prodding against your folds. your body is on fire, it shouldn’t feel this good. 

“w-wait,” you whimper. 

“i think i’ve waited long enough, you’re already prepped, i made sure.” seokmin grumbles before leaning back to sheath his hard cock inside you. 

it all happens without a second to spare; you’re completely filled. the hilt of his dick presses against your pelvis, and seokmin groans into your ear. his eyes roll back as he becomes suffocated in your heat. rutting against you, he relishes in the way your walls squeeze him. nothing beats an untouched pussy waiting to be stuffed to the brim. 

“you’re gonna cut my dick off, that’s how tight you are,” seokmin grunts. 

the palms of his hands slide to the underside of your thighs, forcing your legs flush against your chest. 

“p-please. i don’t want this,” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

seokmin doesn’t even acknowledge your useless pleas. instead, he continues to ram his length into you, and you can’t ignore the pleasure that comes along with his malicious undoing. 

your stomach caves in as he trails kisses along your neck. this shouldn’t be happening, especially to you, but as he continues to fuck you, your mind begins to reel. this shouldn’t feel good, but there’s something about the way his balls smack against your ass that leaves you panting. 

“s-seokmin, fuck, i can’t,” you purse your lips, but your attempts to stay silent fail. 

“keep talking, baby, wanna hear you beg for it,” seokmin shudders. every time he speaks, your pussy clenches even harder. the juices that coat his dick and the snap of his hips fill his ears like a symphony. 

“i don't want this, please,” but your moans say otherwise. 

“pretending you don’t want me to fuck you just makes my cock harder,” he chuckles while releasing you from his hold. 

he sits down on your bed before forcing you onto his lap. lining himself up with your entrance, he tightens his hold on your hips before bouncing you on his cock. you squeak at the new position, not prepared to have him force you into even more pleasure. 

“i-i can’t,” you cry out, hiding your head in the dip of his shoulder. 

“you talk a lot for someone who’s absolutely soaking,” he jeers, slapping your ass till your hole sucks him in entirely, “you’re dripping on me, too. tell me, are you secretly enjoying this?” 

you choke out a pathetic ‘no’ but seokmin doesn’t believe it. instead, he lifts the sweater covering your chest until you’re completely naked. the sudden temperature change has your nipples pebbling over in seconds. letting go of your hips, he swallows your left tit, tongue swirling against the erect bud. 

as he sucks on your left boob, he keeps his other hand in place, groping the meat of your ass till hand marks litter your skin. 

your mind is still glazed over— from the alcohol or the sheer pleasure you’re receiving, you’re unsure at this point. but something deep within you forces you to continue bouncing on his lap. the tip of his cock poking at your cervix and the pain of his girth bruises your pussy, but the knot in your stomach is starting to unravel. 

“seokmin, please, it’s too much,” you whimper once again, breath hot against his neck. 

“you feeling tired, princess?” his tone is filled with faux concern. 

seokmin is brimming with satisfaction. not only does he have you in his clutches, but you’re clearly succumbing to the undeniable spark of lust between you. 

“just make the feeling go away, feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you cry, unsure of whether you should be embarrassed by how much you’re secretly enjoying the way his dick is piercing you or the fact that you can’t stop the unusual build-up in your stomach. 

“you wanna cum for me, baby? it’s okay, just let it go,” unlatching from your tits, he smirks before capturing your lips into a zealous lip lock. 

the bed creaks beneath the two of you, the mattress moving up and down as your hips continue to hump against his member. 

“it feels good,” you sigh as you pull away from his plush lips. 

there’s regret in your decision to unveil your true feelings, but it has become so hard to ignore. 

seokmin is glowing with triumph, observing the way your lidded eyes exude with desire. pants leave your mouth, the redness from your cheeks trickling down to your neck. he can’t let go of you after this. he won't. 

“the faster you go, the faster this is over,” he informs you, hoping it will coerce you into riding him like a bitch in heat. 

“o-okay, i’ll try,” your voice wobbles, your hands moving to his shoulders to ground yourself. 

lifting yourself up, you slam back down onto his cock. seokmin’s brows are strewn as he attempts to savour the feeling of your pussy rubbing against his length. then you speed up, speeding up your movements until the sounds of skin and skin echo within your bedroom. 

“f-fuck, i’m gonna cum,” seokmin’s voice strains, his dick starts to twitch within your velvety cunt. 

you moan out, your eyes screwed shut. the funny feeling in your stomach snaps like a strained rubber band. the abnormal sensation flows throughout your limbs, but it’s so satisfying at the same time. 

then it comes, the spurt of semen filling your hole. he holds you tight against him as his hips stutter, the warm liquid hitting your walls until you're completely stuffed. 

you’re panting against his muscular chest, breath ragged while sweat drips from your forehead. realization hits you seconds later and you’re jumping off seokmin’s lap. 

“you need to go,” you mutter, not able to meet his eyes. 

the clothes are scattered on the floor and you make haste as you pluck your sweater near the foot of your bed. it shouldn’t matter that it felt good to have him inside you, but the thought of him fucking you against can’t help cross your mind. 

“i could go. but why should i? that pussy of yours is mine now,” seokmin shrugs nonchalantly before standing from the bed to dress himself. 

a sense of dread wreaks havoc inside you, your heart plummeting to the floor. this whole situation has you feeling powerless, but you can’t deny the spark that seokmin had lit inside you. 

“expect me to come over when i need my dick sucked, okay?”