#cw noncon somno

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ JUST AS HE LEFT YOU, OKKOTSU YŪTA

your (ex) boyfriend yūta decides to pay you a visit on his way home from a mission. although he forgot how pretty you look when you’re asleep.. and how hard it is to resist.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. ex boyfriend yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. noncon somnophilia -> you wake up. dubcon. pussy inspection. he breaks into your apartment. brief masturbation. aged up characters. wc, 6.1k.

note. repost repost repost :)

your apartment just happens to be on the way home from his mission, yeah that’s it. that’s his excuse, no, not an excuse— his reason, yuuta nods to himself as he stands outside your complex despite the way it’s just past 2am in the morning.

not that he needs a reason to be here anyway, he loves you and you’re his girlfriend, you swore yourself to him— every part of you, so it’s his responsibility to check in on you despite the way he knows you’re asleep. he just has to make sure you’re okay, make sure you’re still his.

he misses you, that’s all the reason he needs.

yuuta’s katana feels heavier than usual as it rests slung over his shoulder, he wishes he could’ve atleast went home to get changed but his desperation for you outweighed anything else when he thought it over in his head. although he didn’t have too much difficulty keeping his clothes free from the insides of the cursed spirit he just finished exorcising, it’d been a while since he’d had any great level of difficulty given his special grade status.

but there’s an ache in his chest since the absence of you, despite the way that he’s not really been without you. he still seen you in everything, everywhere— since he’d memorised the parts of your day that you favoured. it was because of his love for you that he was able to catch glimpses of you doing your grocery shopping or in your favourite cafe. he remembers every part of your routine just so he can see you whenever he wants.

although it did hurt when yuuta had seen you at the movies with that other guy, it must’ve been uncomfortable for you to have a stranger following you around everywhere. he’d noticed him a few times before that, holding your hand or leaning in to kiss you. his girlfriend. you must’ve been so scared. but don’t worry— he made sure to take care of that problem before he managed to make it home that night. it was his duty to protect you afterall, to keep you from harm. to keep you with him.

it’s unnervingly silent, chilling how easy he’s able to make his way up to your apartment floor from the outside— albeit a little impressive as he rests on the ledge of your bedroom window. it’s a path he’s followed so many times before, it’s almost second nature now.

you’re home this time though, so he needs to make sure not to wake you.

another few seconds is all it takes for yuuta to make quick work of the window, to pull it up before expertly slipping through to rest on your vanity. he recognises the shape in the blankets as you by the way you’re resting on the mattress and he finds himself smiling despite the low lighting, you were always so cute he can’t help it.

he sheds himself of his katana first before he rests it gently to the side of your window, followed by his shoes as he politely positions them just short of his blade. another exhale and he feels more comfortable than ever when his feet meet the familiar cold press of your flooring.

yuuta’s footsteps had always been unnervingly quiet and you’d made a few comments before on how unnoticeable his presence was. he was never someone who liked to take up too much space or gather much attention, he’d much rather observe from afar. but that trait worked in his favour when it came to moments like this. he didn’t want to wake you up yet, he knows how much you need your sleep. that’s how good a boyfriend he is.

he takes his first careful step deeper into your bedroom but his eyes remain on you as you breathe softly underneath your blanket, there’s still a soft, gentle smile on his lips and it truly does just seem like a lover observing another. despite the deeper, more twisted sort of relationship that you both actually have.

but yuuta’s self control crumbles piece by piece when he finds himself at the edge of your bed, looking over your still sleeping features and he thinks you’re beautiful even in the dimly lit room as he swallows loudly. his throat feels dry as he takes in the way your lips are parted as your cheek smooshes against your pillow, eyelashes fluttering softly as your eyes rest closed and it’s almost by instinct, the way his fingers reach out to sweep gently along your cheekbones before he flinches back when the touch makes you rouse ever so slightly.

you’re breathing so softly and he swears it must be because you know he’s here, maybe his presence alone is making you sleep better and that fills him with a little sense of pride as he smiles down at you again.

“pretty,” yuuta lets himself admire you there for a few more minutes, to take you in and to make sure nothing bad will happen to you before he leaves. he almost does, but then your eyes squeeze closed and you kick at your comforter slightly before letting out a soft, dreamy whine and it’s not his fault that the pretty sound makes his cock throb in his slacks.

he sucks his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the whimper that it almost earns from him, he’d been so fixated on you that he’d ignored the need that was building in his gut as he stood over you. even when the moonlight is just a sliver outside, it still illuminates you so prettily and the more he looks at you now, the warmer he feels under his clothes, in his own skin and it makes him want to strip it off entirely.

“s-sorry, it hurts, baby.” yuuta whispers as he presses his palm into the bulge in his slacks and it makes him curl forward slightly as his eyes squeeze closed. your breathing has evened out again but you just look so pretty it makes him desperate for a release, you wouldn’t mind him doing this, right? you know how hard it was for him to resist you.

it’s quick the way hes able to unbutton his slacks, to shove them down to his ankles with such silent ease you wouldn’t think he was there at all. the only hint at any presence in your bedroom is the soft, trembled exhale your ex-boyfriend takes when he finally reaches into his underwear to wrap his fingers around the shaft of his cock.

he knows it’s not particularly normal, the way he’s acting but it’s driven by pure devotion, by pure love when his eyes are on you and he lets himself lean forward slightly to get closer.

yuuta swipes his thumb over the already beading pearls of pre-cum gathering at his tip as he stands over you, smearing them along the shaft of his cock to ease his first few, languid pumps of his fist that are so filthily close to your sleeping features. he wishes you were awake, mouth parted— tongue poking out to push your spit along the length of him, he’s sure if he leaned forward a little more he’d be able to press himself between your parted lips while you’re pliant but he won’t, not yet.

“mmfp—�� another strangled whimper is lost as he bites down hard on his lower lip and his unnervingly dark gaze cuts through you as you lie there, so blissfully unaware of your ex-boyfriend currently getting himself off as he stands over where you sleep after breaking into your apartment. his lips part and he follows the next slow stroke of his cock with his hips as he breathes out your name.

part of him wants you to wake up, to see what you do to him— how much he loves you, even still. yuuta’s dark eyes gloss over before they flutter closed, and his legs buck slightly with the pleasure that pours through him as his hips hump needily, cock glistening and disappearing into his fist.

the sight of you makes him burn as he twists his wrist, fingertips squeezing around the sensitive veins of his shaft and he’s so driven by desire, that he finds himself reaching towards you to flick gently at the top of your comforter— letting it pull down lower so he can see the way your tits rest in your pyjamas.

yuuta knows he needs to be careful but he can’t stop himself as his hips twitch, chasing the friction of his fist especially when he’s got you beneath him. he’d neverforget how pretty you are, but you’re real and infront of him now and still so responsive when he lets his free hand edge closer, to swipe along the clothed press of your nipples until they harder under the touch and it makes something pleasurable shoot up his spine as he pants quietly.

another roll of his thumb and your lips part to exhale, something high pitched and pretty he swears he almost cums there and then at the sound as your eyes flutter. the pace of his hand on his cock is faster now as his abdomen tightens, his fingers busying themself with your tits as his lidded gaze eats up your reactions. the way they pebble and poke through your shirt as they harder and he bets if he pressed his hand beneath your panties you’d be soaked— maybe he should check.

but then you shift slightly and yuuta’s hand jumps away from you as you roll over onto your back, kicking at your comforter again until it’s resting just over your knees and revealing even more of your body for him to toy with. it’s like you know it’s him, you must want him to keep going, he knew you missed him just as much as he misses you.

so because he loves you, he lets his approaching orgasm fade as he unravels his fingers from his cock— his dark gaze is fixated on the space between your legs now, the peek of your stomach that’s been revealed with the rise of your shirt due to your movements, and suddenly he knows exactly where he wants to be instead when he realises that you’re only draped in your shirt and a pair of lace panties.

you must’ve known he was coming, right? this is all for him. all of you.

yuuta’s cock is still hard as he kicks off his slacks entirely, letting it rest and throb as he rounds the bed until he’s standing at the bottom and staring up at you like an ominous, haunting presence as he looms in your dark bedroom. he’s still gentle when he finally presses his knee onto the mattress, feeling it dip under his weight and he still moves softly so he doesn’t wake you as he pulls down the remainder of the comforter, revealing you to him completely as he leans over to cage you beneath him.

he feels so much bigger than you at this angle, the sight of your body so soft and pliant underneath him forcing him to squeeze his eyes closed when his cock throbs between your bodies.

“you’re so warm,” yuuta sighs lowly, smiling before he’s dipping his body to bury his face into the crook of your neck. he inhales the all too familiar sweet smell, peppering a few wet, open mouthed kisses along the dip of your shoulder as he earns a soft sigh from your pouty lips, smoothing a slender, cold finger along your cheek affectionately. “i missed you,”

his next exhale is a little more shallow, but still low and careful enough not to wake you before he pulls himself back again, letting himself crawl down your body as he allows his fingers to trace and push the hem of your shirt up higher, and he feels himself grow warmer as he reveals more of your skin to him.

“s-sorry, i can't help it.” yuuta needs to check, especially after that guy he seen you with. you wouldn’t let anyone else touch you that wasn’t him, right? you promised it was all for him, all his—but he needs to be sure. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s everyone else, he needs to make sure you’re exactly as he left you.

which is what encourages his next, meticulous movements as he pushes himself low enough to be able to pull your thighs over his shoulders, exhaling with a mix of want and relief when his eyes are face to face with the intimate press of your panties against your pussy again. it’s been solong since he’s seen you this close, since he’s been able to taste you and it makes his cock throb from where it’s pressed and leaking into the comforter now.

yuuta’s slender hands make quick work of pulling your panties to the side gently but he almost whines as his lidded gaze locks on the first real look he’s had of your glistening folds in weeks.

but you look.. different, like something, someone’s been stuffed in your pretty pussy that’s not him and it almost makes him pull back to give you an empty, hurt look as his heart rate picks up.

but no, no you wouldn’t— you wouldn’t do that to him, maybe.. maybe you were just needy and he shouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly. not when yuuta’s seen the expanse of toys you keep hidden away in your bedside table, he’s even seen how you struggle to take them from the times he’s been watching you. even from afar, even from a rooftop over he can still remember how your face would twist as your walls spread so desperately around the silicone.

you’re still his, he knows it in his heart and it’s so perverted the way he swipes his fingers between your folds because he’s so pleased to find you already wet. see—his, he can’t help but feel something jump in his chest at the idea that you did miss him too.

an almost giddy smile graces yuuta’s lips before he returns his attention back to the rough pad of his finger, dragging it beneath the hood of your clit and rolling the sensitive bud, allowing a shaky exhale to fall from his lips when your thighs twitch in response.

“just��n-need you,” he almost growls, his eyes lustful and locked on the place between your thighs when he presses down on your puffy clit harder, eagerly, as he spreads your soft thighs wider. he inches himself closer to your folds, knocking his nose softly against your clit and he inhales deep before his fingertips trail lower and he’s pushing one inside of you.

the familiar scent of your heat has yuuta lightheaded, hips twitching into your mattress as his cock throbs against the fabric beneath him, and his eyes almost roll back with how deeply he’s longed to have you like this again. you’ve been holding back on him for so long.

his eyes snap up to you quickly when a faint moan falls from your lips, ceasing his movements until sleep laces your features once more and he places a soft, open mouthed kiss against your clit to soothe you before finally sinking another finger into your warm cunt.

yuuta’s cold fingers scissor you open as he tests you, checking that you’re still as tight as you always were whenever he fucked you as your walls try so, so hard to squeeze down around him. you’re definitely just as greedy as he left you though, as he lets his tongue push out from between his lips to lick softly against you again, whining at the warm taste of you that he’s been craving since you starved him of it.

“you’re still so t-tight,” he whines, bathing your clit in soft kitten licks as his fingers brush against the spongy spot inside of you,

his chest feels tight with how much he wants you and the comforter beneath him feels damp as he presses his cock softly into the bed, rolling his hips in time with the pace of his fingers as he pumps them in and out of your wet heat.

yuuta’s flushed to his chest as he buries himself into your pussy, he can hear the way you’re breathing has turned to soft pants now, accompanied by the way you’re pussy is squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to pull him deeper. “missed this,” he mutters again, words muffled against your folds as his tongue swipes along your puffy clit again, “s-so much.”

every deep press of his fingers pushes more slick out of you and it’s so lewd the way he eagerly slurps it up, swallowing loudly before hes pulling out his fingers in favour of replacing them with his tongue instead so he can taste even more.

despite the way you remain still above him, yuuta can pick up on how much your body responds to him, like it was made to— so eager for the press of your ex-boyfriend tongue as he pushes past your folds. he curls it into your flexing walls as if you’re an oasis and he’s been deprived of water for weeks— similar to the way he’s been deprived of your love for this long. he’s only taking back what belongs to him.

“it’s so good,” he pants, muffled against your folds and he’s so unaware of the pace his hips have found as he humps himself into the mattress, dizzy on the pleasure and the feeling of finally having you in his arms again.

“can i feel all of you.. please?” yuuta’s begging despite the way he knows you can’t hear him, pleas buried into your pussy so softly they go unheard with how wet you are— squelching lewdly with every press of his tongue deep into your walls and it’s so hard for him to pull himself away. he’s buzzing, cock leaking so needily along his shaft and he’s sweating hard, still connected to your folds with a string of spit as he leans back to push himself to his knees.

it only takes a few seconds before he’s leaning over you again, one hand pressing into the pillows by your head while the other wraps around his shaft— positioning his cock between your folds. but he lets it glide through instead of sinking into you right away, letting himself hump against you as each withdrawal of his hips makes a loud, wet sound— coating his shaft in a mess of slick and his spit as he teases himself with the tight squeeze of your walls that’s so close.

yuuta curls over you as his eyes squeeze shut, but he’s so desperate to look at you as he ruts you into the mattress, to watch your eyes roll beneath your eyelids as your brows pull into a pretty, pleasured frown.

it’s like your body is begging for him when he peeks his lidded gaze open to look down at your tits again, nipples still hard underneath your pyjamas and he’s so overcome with want that he can’t help but duck his head to take your right nipple into his mouth. “i’ve w-waited for you,” his tongue circles around the fabric, muffling his words as he soaks it with his spit. he picks up the pace of his hips and he feels so dirty, like a badly behaved dog humping his owner despite the way his pace stutters with how good it feels, “until you were ready for me,”

yuuta grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin of your tits and he feels you shudder beneath him as he sends you a slow blink, checking to see if you’re awake yet with how much your body is rising to him now. you can’t be far from it, but he’s so close now he doesn’t think he can stop. he can’t bare the idea of you kicking him out again.

the feeling of your pussy against his cock is hot and aching, but it burns him in the best way because your skin against his is like fucking silk. he leaves your chest before he drools more kisses up to the crook of your neck, laving his tongue along your jawline and cheeks as he pushes more weight onto his arm— letting him rut into you harder as he feels you stir beneath him.

“p-please don’t wake up,” yuuta whimpers, he’s flushed to his chest and so fucked out— he can’t stand to keep it in anymore when you’re giving into him so easily. he doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to, but with the way he can feel you getting wetter beneath him with every thrust of his cock through your folds, he knows you wouldn’t want him to. you love him.

you stir beneath him again and he’s so unaware of the way he’s panting now, drooling and licking at the space beneath your ear as he marks you with his saliva, feeling your clit graze along the sensitive underside of his cock as he presses into your harder.

yuuta’s burning up, making a mess of the space between your thighs as his cock desperately drools precum along your skin and it’s so filthy the way he’s rubbing himself against you, making goosebumps burst along his skin as he offers you another drowsy, lustful look from his place over you.

your eyes are still closed and the tip of his cock catches on the hood of your clit, followed by a wet, tacky sound that makes him gasp but it makes a pretty moan pour from your lips as his body tenses up at the sound.

his hips stutter and yuuta cums with a tight lipped “i love you.” smeared along your cheeks as his cum lands messily across your skin, painting you in his seed as his body crumbles under the weight of his orgasm. it’s dizzying, making him sway as he tries to keep himself steady but he doesn’t realise the way your eyes start to flutter open beneath him, still dazed with sleep until your drowsy voice pierces through the room.

“huh?” you begin and your ex-boyfriend freezes in his place over you, it takes you a few moments to realise the situation you’re in. pinned to your bed at almost 3am after your ex has broken into your apartment and used your body to get himself off— soiling you in his cum. the realisation makes you tremble before you begin to struggle beneath him.

you try to push him off but he grabs your hand, so you opt to open your mouth to scream next, “yuuta! get out, what the fu—“ but yuuta is quick to cover up your words with his other palm as he shushes you, leaning his weight onto your body to stop you from kicking out beneath him as he presses you tight against the mattress. you wouldn’t want to wake the neighbours afterall, he doesn’t want you to end up embarrassed when they figure out it’s not an intruder.. it’s just a misunderstanding, he’s your boyfriend.

“baby, it’s me.. it’s me.” his words are so soft as he presses kisses along your cheeks, meaning to soothe you despite the way he can taste the salt of your tears along your cheeks now. he thinks you look relieved to see him, he could almost cry too— now that you’re back together. he can feel the way you’re sobbing against his palm.

“s-sorry, shhhh, i didn’t mean to scare you,” maybe he should’ve told you he was coming, yuuta thinks as he feels you try to push out from beneath him again, but he’s so strong above you. he keeps you pinned, with both his body and his gaze as you hold it with your own, his cold stare keeping you in place with the shiver it makes jolt down your spine.

“i’m here now,” another soothing hum and he feels the way your body relaxes beneath him, albeit more survival instinct than anything else as he eases himself away from you slightly— still sticky from his lingering pleasure as he gives you a soft smile.

your eyes are still wide as you look up at him, but yuuta loosens his grip over your mouth in favour of brushing his cold fingers softly against your cheek instead. he feels the way it makes you shudder beneath him, your body was probably so desperate for his touch by now, with how long it’s been since he’s had you like this. he’s sure you must think you’re still asleep, dreaming maybe—

“please, baby. just stay still.” he drawls as he noses against your cheek, tongue lolling out to lick messily at the corner of your lips— he feels you go to turn away from him, but he knows it must’ve been an accident when you still make it so easy for him to catch you. like a cute little game of making him work for it.

“yuuta,” you try again and it’s adorable the way your voice trembles before yuuta presses his lips against yours finally. you must be nervous with how long it’s been since you’ve been together— maybe you’re embarrassed at how wet you are already because your words are begging for him to finally make you cum now. it’s your turn.

“see, it’s okay,” the kiss is full of teeth but your mouth doesn’t part the way it normally does, “p-please,” is groaned against your lips as your ex-boyfriend forces his tongue between them, humming when you finally stop resisting him and melt into him like you’re supposed to.

he didn’t like when you teased him like this, he just wants to love you.

yuuta’s eyes close as his mouth moves slowly with yours, but his grip on your arm remains tight when his free hand moves to your hips and he keeps you pressed beneath him. you’re giving into his movements now, chasing the twist of his tongue as it pushes against yours and you whimper when he nibbles at your lower lip.

the kiss breaks wet and his hips rock into yours despite the over sensitivity that makes him sting, but you spread your thighs for him so eagerly it’s easy for him to ignore as he rubs his cock against your still glistening folds.

“does it feel good?” yuuta asks, sweetly despite the threatening hold his eyes have on yours. but you nod— eyes still glistening with unshed tears despite the dampness that still dries against your cheeks from the previous ones.

your pussy makes a wet tacky sound with the next withdrawal of his hips, and you both gasp when the head of his cock catches on the entrance to your cunt before he begins to finally sink carefully up inside you. he’s met with little resistance and it’s made easy by the wet press of his cum and your slick, like your own make-shift lube as his hand squeeze and pull your hips closer to his.

you’ve relaxed enough now for him to let your hand move freely, most likely dizzy from the way he’s gliding against your sweet spots in a way that makes your whole body twitch. your pussy squeezes around him and it’s so lovingthe way yuuta rocks himself into you, curling forward to nuzzle into the crook of your neck as he reaches to intertwine his hands with your own now. a stark opposite to the bruising grip he had on them a few seconds ago.

“mmm, i.. i missed this,” his words are soft despite the way he’s forcing your walls to spread open for him, moulding you to his shape— he wants to break you for anyone else. he feels something ache deep in his stomach, desire heavy to make love to you for aslong as he lives and each laboured breathe he takes holds another strangled i love you as your legs wrap around his hips to squeeze.

you only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out, but it still earns you a soft kiss against your cheek as his hands squeeze affectionately against yours.

yuuta’s content with just bathing you in soft pecks of his lips while his cock stays deep inside of you, still half clothed and his chest pressing against yours, but he knows you need more. he can tell by the way your thighs are twitching around him, your walls trembling around the weight of his cock like you’re eagerly begging him to move, to finally fuck you.

because you’ve been waiting for him, right? that’s why you’ve saved yourself for him to come back.

“say it and i’ll move, baby. please?” his voice is low but it’s unwavering, followed by another wet kiss against the corner of your lips as he gives you a look,

“yuuta,”

“i haven’t heard it in so long,” another kiss and he’s pretty sure he can feel the way your heart is beating against your ribs, he thinks it’s so cute that he can still make your heart race like this. even now, after so long. love is funny like that.

“i.. i love you, i missed you.” you eventually admit, bending to yuuta’s will like you’re a curse under his control, but he rewards you for your efforts when he finally pulls his hips back. he drags his cock out of you as his hands stay intertwined tight with yours, but your pussy bears down on him so eagerly, trying to lure back in every inch you lose before he’s beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.

“i know, baby.” he mutters against your cheek as he twists into you and your pussy squeezes around him in response, his words lighting a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better as his body rocks seamlessly with yours. “i love you so much,”

another adorable whimper leaves you when yuuta pulls back to lean over you slightly, holding your gaze as he lets go of one of your hands to cup your cheek instead. he offers you a few more kisses, smearing them across your jawline then your lips as his hips work to meet the encouraging pull of your cunt, sucking him in with every wet, clapping thrust.

the pace he’s set isn’t fast but it’s driven by his obsessionfor you, pouring it into the cracks he’s wormed his way into in your heart and body as your chest stays tight with his. he kisses your skin again, teeth nipping playfully before he’s lapping over the sensitive spots that make you twitch deeper into his hold.

“it’s been so, s-so long,” yuuta smiles softly, holding your gaze and the touch of his cold fingertips across your cheek has you nodding as he sweeps at the drying tears on your skin,

“heh, you look so p-pretty, mmf—“ he emphasises the compliment with a few sharp thrusts that make you tremble beneath him before his pace inevitably speeds up, but he keeps himself just as close as he’s always been as he holds you gently.

despite his previous orgasm, yuuta already feels so close again— it had been so long since he’d been buried in you like this, after you’d been holding out on him. but he wasn’t one to hold a grudge, not against you, because he’s back now and he won’t let you out of his sight again. although the grip he has on your intertwined hands is sure to snap if he holds it any tighter.

your eyes glimmer with lust as he sends you another blink and it makes him burn even warmer when you look at him like that, your tight pussy baring down around him and you both gasp before it breaks into something needier. he slows his pace slightly, deliberately pressing his pelvis tight to bump against your clit as you shudder beneath him and he smiles,

“can you keep looking at me, please?” it’s an innocent little proposal despite the less than innocent actions that have brought you both here, but you hold yuuta’s gaze as he speaks when it’s accompanied by the stutter of his hips. “i’m already s-so close.. i want you to see.” to see what you do to him, what your love does to him.

“o-okay.” and so he gives more to you. has given more to you than he has to anyone else, and you bask in it and give back all that you can, all that he can take as he presses his forehead against yours. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of you that’s now mixed with his and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach.

yuuta repositions his knees and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your insides as his between soft kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he makes his way across your features. a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble along with your lungs with the way it feels like he ignites something in you, even if it’s in his own little twisted way.

your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves. your nails dig into the back of his hand while the other scratches along his shoulder as you arch your back into his chest and he eats up your reactions like he would your entirety if you’d let him.

“i-im gonna.. ngghh—“ a few more long, drawn out moans of your name and yuuta can’t help the way he gives into you as he pulls back to look at you again— his gaze holding yours as he spills hot and thick inside of you with more slurred i love yous between trembled breathes. the mess between your thighs only grows with intensity as he fucks his load into you, eager to dig out your own orgasm as he pulls away to thumb at your clit.

you’re more than eager to give into him all the same after a few more stuttered thrusts and flicks of his wrist, the hot rush of bliss and warmth settling over your skin when you cum. your head drops back into your pillows and your eyes threaten to roll back before you feel a tight grip squeeze along your jawline to keep you in place.

“o-on me, baby. please, don’t look away.” yuuta’s words are rough despite how intense your orgasm is, almost making you see white if it wasn’t for the way his gaze swallows that light entirely. so you look at him as he fucks you through it, only stopping when his hand trembles with the aftermath of overstimulation as his body blankets you.

the moments after feel like they stretch on forever for you, but the man over you feels like he’s in heaven as his fingers trace messy little heart shapes into the back of your hand. but you’re just there, staring wide eyed up at your bedroom ceiling as the weight of what just happened settles into your bones.

“can we stay like this?” the low drawl cuts through the silence as your eyes remain on the space above you, but you can feel the way yuuta’s staring at you in the goosebumps that raise along your skin, he’s close enough for his dark hair to graze along your cheeks. like he’s examining you up close.

“okay,” your words scratch slightly in your throat but your response, albeit short, still earns you another peck to your lips before he’s pulling away to send you another smile. his hands are still cold when you feel him massage them along your hips, then up your waist, then back down again as he tries to soothe out the tension he can sense in you.

“i love you,” yuuta speaks again, like it’ll make everything better, like it’ll remind you that at the root of everything— he loves you, everything he does is driven by his devotion to see you happy. happy beside him, that is. isn’t that the place that’ll make you feel your most fulfilled? by his side. it would be better for everyone, if you just accepted it, maybe then people would stop getting hurt because of you.

he hears the way you swallow, clearing your throat but he still looks at you softly because he could recognise the way you look at him anywhere and it makes his cheeks burn to the tips of his ears.

“i love you too, yuuta.”

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[myperfectvictim]

Sweetheart, you are getting raped. Conscious or not. You're going to want these drugs.

[angelyuji]

yandere stanley and stanford pines somno thoughts :)

18+!!!

tw // somnophilia, noncon, dubcon, drugging, pls lmk if i missed any tags

sorry there’s a read more link, this one is a little intense so… mind the tws and tags pls🥰🥰

stan is not sneaky or quiet going into your room. he thinks he’s being quiet, but he’s not. after a couple times, he stops bothering. like it clicked for him that it doesn’t matter if you do wake up cuz either way you’re in his home and there’s no way out. no amount of screaming will save you either, like the shack is out in the woods.

the first time wasn’t on purpose, it was a heatwave and stan woke up around 2 am not being able to go back go sleep in the heat. sooo he goes to ur room to check on you, yk to see if you’ve fallen asleep yet or if ur awake like him. he’d go into your room and see the 4 different standing fans he bought for you turned on, and also see that you’re only sleeping in your underwear. the heat was killing you, so obviously you had to strip. immediately stan’s next to your bed, hand slowly messaging your naked chest. you moan a little in your sleep and stan takes that as a sign that you’re literally begging for him. like moaning??? in your sleep??? ok SLUT. same thing next evening, except stan goes farther. and like he’s been out of the game for so long yk so he’s just curious. and like it’s not his fault you were tempting him, he’s an old man. he takes a couple risks: kissing you, pushing a couple fingers into your mouth or hole to see how much of him you could take. by day 3, he’ll see that your body is being conditioned to respond to his touch and he’s actually gonna lose it.

your eyes flutter open, a moan falling from your lips, as you feel something press against your heat. “hey there, dollface.” stan grins at you and you jolt awake, trying to move away.

“stan, don’t! get-”

stan grabs your waist and pulls you back, cutting you off, “no point in trying to run, baby.” he flips you over, pushing your face into the pillow. he gets to his knees and pushes into you, stopping to feel the melting heat.

“s-stan p-please” you moan, muffled by the pillow.

“please what, sugar.” stan grins as you try to move your hips. he grabs a fistful of your hair, making you arch to look at him.

“please, please keep going”

ford is the sorta the opposite of stan like he couldve been doing this to you for months and you wouldve never known. like he definitely crushes up some sleeping pills into your food when you’re not looking. he knows what he’s doing is wrong and knows he should stop, but he can’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.

i feel like first time it happened, it was probably when you fell asleep in his lab. you had stayed with him to do some research and when you fell asleep, he decided to carry you to bed. the warmth of your body against his was enough to get him flustered, but when he laid you down, he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your mouth. and dude… he was immediately devastatingly horny like one kiss almost took him out. he definitely booked it out of your room out of embarrassment (even though you weren’t conscious to see) after this, he didn’t make eye contact with you or talk to you for a couple days. you end up confronting him about it and instead of telling you his feelings, he decided that he should just drug you to keep using you without having to vulnerable.

i feel like every time he does this, even if you’re not awake, he’s apologizing to you and making sure that you cum too. like he feels sooo bad for doing this to you, but like the guilts not gonna stop him. the only reason you ever realized is cuz he fucked up on the pills and you woke up to him pounding into you like a rabbit.

“f-ford, get off me.” you could feel every inch of him as he held you close. you try to push him off you, but instead he folds you in half, legs hooking his shoulders.

in this position, you could hardly think or breathe, he went deep and hard into you. as he gets quicker, he starts to mumble into your ear, “i can’t stop, i-i’m sorry, i’m s-so sorry.” he bites into your shoulder and you moan. “you just feel so good.”

for both ford and stan, once you wake up to them using you and you end up not telling anyone what happened, they’ll take that as a green light to keep doing this to you. and then it evolves from at night while you’re sleeping to the afternoon in a public mall bathroom.

(i kinda want to write about that now… but also… tutor!ford x reader… stan x babysitter!reader… im thinking thoughts…)

[quarterlifekitty]

(just had a gynecologist appt this morning and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a dog Soap would be about it)

he’d beg to watch or something like the perv he is

or maybe if we’re being really nasty:

gynecologist!Soap that only chose this profession so he can stuff his fingers into pussies all day :(( he doesn’t discriminate either, he likes all kinds of cunts!! Can’t have any pussy suffering or feeling sick on his watch (he’s a pussy pronoun user)

But he gets real excited when a pretty thing like you walks into his office, likes making you squirm and blush all awkwardly

don’t worry about it, bonnie, s'all part of the exam :3 he’s just checking if your g-spot is healthy!! There she goes, soaking his fingers and trying to suck him in deeper <3

You know there were a lot of boys who said that thing about wanting to be gynecologists in middle school and I will never forget my music teacher saying “you know that women usually go to the gynecologist when there’s something wrong with them, right?” And they shut the fuck up

Also I believe @/peachesofteal has a gyn!Price AU that I recommend you check out if you’re into that.

lol NO ONE walks into the obgyn and expects seeing a built dude with a Mohawk basically busting out of his scrubs and smiling at you with wolf teeth.

Also YES pussy pronouns. A staple of the 141, imo.

And this may be too freak nasty for you but uhhhm…. DentistsOffice!141.

CW: medical, dental, dubcon/noncon, obsession, somno

Obsessed with you and shoving their fingers in your mouth and against your teeth. Let’s be real Soap would love smelling your breath and every day is a constant battle for him to resist spitting in there right after he tells you to open wide.

Price and Nikolai looming over you, remarking on your oral hygiene, stroking the tips of your canines. Calling you a good girl every time you follow any instruction whatsoever— opening your mouth, rinsing with all of the mouthwash, moving your tongue out of the way. The way they praise your good care and tut when you’ve been slacking is insanely motivating

You know Soap is obsessed with the molds they make of your teeth (I know that’s orthodontic primarily don’t @ me). If he uses some silicon in the molds to take a little something home that’s his business iykyk

Gaz who’s the resident anesthetist. And you KNOW they always recommend general anesthesia for every fuckin minor procedure they can so you can be passed out and vulnerable under them. Gaz gently explaining what it’s going to feel like as you go under, telling you to keep counting as the mask gets secured over your mouth.

And if you insist you can’t go under general, you don’t have anyone to come with you or drive you home after, that’s ok. Their technician Simon is actually getting off his shift around when the procedure ends. He’d be happy to drive you home and help you rinse with saline, replace your cotton :) and if something else happens to slip in your mouth while you’re still all dazed and relaxed, what’s the harm?

And miraculously, your insurance (I know I look like an American rn don’t @ me) always covers the whole thing with no issue! They just call them up, and suddenly the copay disappears. So it’s no trouble to go often— you might as well take advantage!

[missbunnybunny]

『𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘.』

𝕿𝖜: somno, yandere, stalking, breaking and entering, fem-reader,non-con, manhandling, dubcon, overstim, Pervert!choso.«🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» I think that's all.

NOTE: I don't know what I wrote. Not edited. Let me know if I missed anything.

You're desperate for a roommate. Entering your first year of college, you decided to find an off-campus apartment.

Thus, the reason why you're so desperate, you can't pay the bills yourself!

A friend recommended posting an advertisement online. So you did just that, asking for a roommate close your age.

Choso answered your ad, and after some questions, you decided that he was perfect. He was majoring in forensic.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who convinced you to get cameras for the apartment. " It's to make sure nothing happens. I wouldn't twant you getting hurt." He assured you.

But he doesn't tell you that he set up a few small ones in your room. He didn't want a random man with you in there.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who has a collection of videos of you changing. His favorites are when you try and fail to muffle your moans when you pleasure yourself.

He strokes his length at the same pace your fingers pound your hole. Whimpering your name with a fucked out face.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Gets brave and enters your room when you're deep a sleep. Removing the covers and taking pictures of your figure.

Your sleeping choices are an oversized t-shit and shorts. The shirt scrunched up, making you look delicious.

Fuch his getting hard just thinking about it.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who for nights on end just takes pictures of your clothed figure. Until it's not enough, he lifts your shirt and moans softly when he sees your perked up nipples.

Taking pictures of his hands squeezing your soft mount, his cock in between them. An electric pleasures shot throughout his body, at the feeling.

He takes pictures of his mouth around your cute lil nipples.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who slides your shorts just enough to see your clothed flower. He runs his finger against your slit, feeling a sticky pool form.

Who can't take it and uncovers your cunt, taking up close pictures. Some spreading your folds, some with his tip kissing your entrance.

He takes videos of how he ate you out like you were a 5 star meal.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes a video of his length rubbing against your fold, your honey coating his member as his hips buckle.

"Y/n-Ah- s-so good." He mumbles in a trance. His self-control slipped with every movement.

He knows it's wrong. But you feel so good to stop.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes his length and slowly begins to slit you open, sleepy moan and whimpers left your lips. Choso records the action, a perfect view of where you both connect.

He slowly fucks you, until he feels your walls flutter and constrict around him. He had to bite his shirt to stop himself from waking you up.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who has you coming on his cock, he want to desperately cum inside you but he pulls out before he spills his seed on your stomach.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who cleans you and puts your clothes back. He exists your room, and he turned to his so he could masterbate to the video over again.

God, your face was so devine, drooling, and with your back arched. He wished he could fuck you silly, and have you past out around his length.

He secretly made your pleasured filled face his wallpaper.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who pretends he didn't fuck your sleeping body and carries on like normal. He continues to fuck you in your sleep, he feels a sense of pride when you complain about being soar the next morning.

You were doing homework in your room when your computer died. "Choso, can I use your computer?" You asked as you exited your room.

Choso called out in the affirmative from the living room. Entering choso's room, you quickly found his computer.

It was a large desktop with two screens. Signing into your Google docs, you continued your writing.

While typing your hand accidentally moved the mouse, opening a tab. Quickly going on to close it, not wanting to invade choso's privacy.

You froze, staring back at you was a video. One that had a setting that looked like your room, with shaking hand, you pressed play.

It was a view of someone entering your room before your sleeping figure came into view. You watched as choso began to touch your body.

The door to choso's room opened, and in walked the man himself.

Choso looked froze in his spot while you looked at him horrified. The video plays in the background.

Everything becomes a blur. Your body springs out of the chair. As choso moves closer to you, you make a room for the door.

But he catches you. His hand covers your mouth, and the other holds your waist, intrapping your arm.

Choso threw you both onto the bed, your body displayed on top of his. He kept you caged so you couldn’t run from him.

" shh, shh. It's okay, you know I wouldn't hurt you."He whispers seductively into your ear.

You try and struggle your way out of his grip, tears treating to fall. Your ass rubbed against his crotch and onto his growing bulge.

His hips thrust involuntary, in search of any pressure he could get. He whimpers in your ear, making you flush.

His hand that was wrapped around your waist slipped to your shorts. He tugged them down, gaining a startled yelp from you.

His fingers danced over your slit before plunging into your gummy walls. His pace was rough, making your back arch and muffle moans.

He can feel as your greedy hole clamps on his fingers. His palm rubs over your peal. It was over stimulating, and your eyes began to cross.

Your mind is going blank, stars behind your eyes. So much was happening at once, choso was finger fucking you while he humpped you like he was a dog in heat.

Trying to seek any pleasure he could from you.

He whispered, moaning your name, calling his good girl. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you twitched and convolced around his fingers.

Choso freed his hard on. Without warning, his tip began to kiss your entrance before he thrusted into you.

Your body twitched forwards, trying to escape the stimution, but choso's hand over your mouth was firm. Keeping you in place.

Your moans were like angelic calls to him, begging him to continue.

His shaft assaulted your G spot as he plunged roughly into your warmth. His hand snaked around your waist again, giving him a stable hold.

The new grip made it easier for him to abuse your womb. With every thrust, his length and girth made you stuffed.

His movements became uncoordinated as he reached his high. Your tummy tightened as the coil started to tighten.

Your mind was becoming mush, too cock drunk to think right. Choso rubbed your clit before giving it a pull.

The action broke you, pleasure electrocuted your brain, snapping your coil, and you came undone top of choso.

Choso removed his hand from your mouth, gripping your waist tightly as he pounded into you before stuttering and painting your warn walls white.

Unfiltered moans and whines left your over pleasuered body. Choso turned your face towards him and kissed you.

It was a hungry kiss, and he pumped more of his warm seed into you. Giving you a few more thrusts to make sure you didn't spill a single drop.

"Ah-G-good girl. So good f-for me." He says out of breath, almost slured before he pulled out.

His seed and your honey mixed into a puddle into the sheets. By now, you had passed out.

"Next time, let's do a sex tape." He chuckles at your sleeping face.

[pricetagged]

melrose

It started on the Inverbreck line. Eleven stations from Mildart to Dencarron before reaching the terminal station. Although, 'station' was being generous. It was more of a bramble-cracked podium and perpetually-closed ticket desk. Just two tracks bisected by a lone, dead-end platform; the only line that connected the town to the rest of the world. It was quiet. Dreary. (Dangerous, dark-) You catch the eye of something lonely and dangerous. Or, Vampire!Johnny AU.

CW: dark, MDNI. Stalking, harassment, kidnapping, noncon (of the enthralled kind) -> heavy dubcon (of the 'gives in' variety), blood, somno, basically 10k of build-up lol.

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

There was something on your chest.

Something heavy. Oppressive. A parasomnia made flesh; given form, pressing blunt and hard into your ribs. Bruising - capillaries bursting red and purple under the weight of the suffocating spirit.

Through fluttering, heavy eyes you caught the barest movement. Great, hulking, shadowy; a hypnopompic hallucination of what should be a man, but couldn't - (no- too big-). Your pulse fluttered quick and rabbity under the cage of your chest - stark, white bone and gristle and peach-soft flesh held still under the nightmare. Fuseli-esque and twisted, all garish blues and crimsons. Like someone had smudged paint on a corpse; some ghoulish mortician's joke.

A little grey here, two flashes of lapis, a great smear of scarlet dripping like sangria from the mouth.

It spoke.

"Ahm sorry, bonnie," it washed humid over your face. Hypnotic and rotten, you trembled under the gravel of its voice. "I just- ah had tae - fuck-"

It cut off with a groan, low and rich, slick lips smacking over slick teeth. The noise burrowed in, writhing under your flesh until you itched (not human, not natural, no no no, please-) but you couldn't move. All will and resolution scattered like ash in the wind as you just- couldn't- move. You felt the hysterical laughter bubble up in your chest but gave no voice to it. Limbs pinned to something soft and head-feverish, you could only peer through hazy, bleary eyes at the thing in front of you.

"Shh," it soothed as a whine escaped you, slurred and stumbling as something lifted you up, set you just right against the pillows. Soft satins and susurrus whispers hushed you, sent you spinning as thoughts slipped away like smoke in your hands. "Shh, it's alright. I've got ye, yer here now. Ah waited- I just- don't move."

(Move?)

Something wormed through, some undaunted, tenacious little thought-

I know that voice.

Your heart quickened.

Eyes fluttering wildly, you lifted your leaden head off the pillow. You saw him as through a veil -yes- yes, it was him-. The thoughts rooted like weeds, choking and constricting your already tight chest. Broad-shouldered and hirsute. Those piercing, animal eyes. That overgrown hair. That eerie, Cheshire grin with too-sharp teeth.

Johnny. The man from the train.

Your timorous, quick little breaths got caught in your loose, slack jaw. Synapses flared and died, useless under the force of this preternatural lull; terror struck hard and withered on the vine. Your thoughts raced, tripped and twisted until-

Your head drooped back, broken lily lolling on the stalk as everything went black.

----------- It started on the Inverbreck line.

Eleven stations from Mildart to Dencarron before reaching the terminal station. Although, 'station' was being generous. It was more of a bramble-cracked podium and perpetually-closed ticket desk. Just two tracks bisected by a lone, dead-end platform; the only line that connected the town to the rest of the world.

It was quiet. Dreary. (Dangerous, dark-)

The crisp, night air soothed your flushed cheeks, sharp and clear after the mustiness of the carriage. It was busiest closer to the city, bodies pressed tight. Stifling and hot, sweating under layers of Christmas jumpers and scarves as the train rattled down the tracks. People got jostled; you bumped into others. It was expected. Normal, really. Except-

Except it was always him.

He was hardly subtle, what being close to 6ft and broad as a brick house. He split the crowd with his mere presence, physicality turned to armour as people shuffled away from his bulk and closer to the doors.

And his eyes.

Cyan blue and too-bright. They swept the carriage, unblinking, until they landed on you. Constricted. Canicular. You felt the weight of his gaze like a net, heavy and abrasive, as your neck prickled and your throat went dry.

"Excuse me," he murmured, breath fanning hot against the shell of your ear. (Too close, too close-) His stubble tickled your cheek as he leaned in. "Tight squeeze, eh?"

There was a flittering pressure. A spasm of the fingers, surely, as his hand brushed your hip. He dug in hard to the plushness, gripping like he wanted to bury his fingers below layers of wool and acrylic until he gouged out space for himself below muscle and viscera. Just for a hairsplit-second. Lightning-quick, you yelped, murmured apologies to the censorious old woman next to you, and jerked away (not far enough).

"Sorry, lamb," he rasped - still so fucking close - and pressed in tight. "That wasnae the pole, was it."

You felt him behind you, bracketing you close to the grab bar. An ogre at your back and a crowd of apathy at your front. You scanned the carriage, too, wide-eyed and twitching but no- no. You wouldn't find help here. Bored, pallid faces. Some wind-flushed, some dry-lipped. All staring listlessly at their phones, watching the town turn to countryside out the window. The gentle rattle of the wheels on the track. The muted, jingling riffs and chords of Christmas music filtering through someone's headphones. Would anyone glance up, sense the twitching of your whiskers and take pity? A teenager fidgeting with a Magic Eight Ball caught your eye: 'All signs point to no!'

He was quick for someone so big. Your split-second glance cost you time to shoulder past the crowd, instead letting him step close enough to kick your bambi-legs wide and slip in between. You looked down past your hitching chest to see that he had planted one heavy, scuffed boot between your feet, the other boxing in your left leg. So close that his sole left marks, great black, sooty smears, all over the edge of your cute little shoes. 'At least they're waterproof; easier to clean'. The thought fizzled up like a sad sparkler.

The humidity of the carriage had you sweating- you and the crowd. The windows dripped with condensation, steam rising and revealing the fingerprints and traced messages of earlier passengers. Ella <3 Jason! Call Bilal: (+47)746775303. Merry Xmas! Smiley faces and swirls looked back at you, mocking you with their bland eyes and dripping curlicues. Your heavy overcoat hung over your shoulders and your fingers slipped, clammy, over the handles of the carrier bags in your grip.

And yet-

You felt cold where he pressed against you. Chilled from the back of your neck, down your spine and further, lower. Even through the denim pressed tight from your inner thigh to ankle where he'd bullied his way between your legs with sheer audacity and the confidence that you couldn't -wouldn't- move. That you wouldn't make a scene. Even his arms caged you in, one arched high above you, loose-gripped on the handrail above your head. The other twisted around your arm to grab at the same pole you held in a white-knuckled grip. Your shiver pushed you further into him, sliding against his thick, sturdy body.

Until it was cut short, ice down your spine freezing any further movement. There, at the base of your spine you felt it. Hard. Firm. Pressing against you with every swing and sway of the carriage. With every shift of his weight.

No.

No, it wasn't-

"That's naw the pole either, hen."

Your thoughts stuck, wheels skating uselessly over ice. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Dinnae be sorry. It's fer you," he breathed over you, voice rumbling low. "I know ye can help me with it. It's all achin', see-"

"What the fuck." Finally, some heads turned your way.

You didn't stop to apologise, didn't even look at anyone in your path as you rushed to the doors. The more distance you cleared, the more your thoughts whirred and buzzed. Swarmed, even, in a thick miasmic cloud that you ran from as much as you ran from him. Why didn't you call for help? Why didn't you get off at the first stop? Why did you let him box you in and-

Funny, you sought to shame yourself more than him.

The cold air outside slapped your face, clearing away the clutter rattling around in your skull. The peace was worth the extra taxi fare.

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

A week or two followed and you slowly began to feel comfortable on the train again. Slowly stopped looking for him in the crowd.

The pieces fit together like a clumsy mosaic; jagged and sharp, blending together to create a colourful facsimile of The Incident. You’d been calling it that – capital T, capital I: The Incident. Scared to give power to it, to speak it aloud and rip back the veil to reveal the sham lurking underneath. It was easier that way, easier to swallow. Opprobrium turned soft; a sugar-coated bitter pill.

Otherwise, what? Admit that some nasty, hulking beast nosed its way into your warren and forced you to squirrel away? No, no. It was just an Incident born of cramped space and holiday stress.

Still, you found yourself shuffling head-down to the nearest seats. Avoided blue eyes and broad shoulders. Until-

Until he was there again. Sniffed you out; caught your scent and followed you right to the seat. Same train, same carriage, same time. 18.47 to Inverbreck.

You saw him before he saw you. At least, you thought so. Jacket stretched tight across the breadth of his back, head turning lazily like a bird of prey. Tall, powerful, but a little wan. It was strange, this cocksure walk and strong stance spattered with a slight clamminess. The harsh fluorescent light seemed to strip him of colour; washed-out tan, icy eyes, dark circles. The dark stubble on his jaw and slightly grown-out hair altogether made him look…sad. Scraggly. Like some stray dog hunched in a doorway. Down on his luck, hungry and- (and ravenous. Cadaverous, even. Not quite right; no wind-flushed cheeks or vitality of the flesh. Sucked dry, taut and pallid and gaunt-).

-and he caught your eye. Fuck. Mouth stretched wide over stark, white teeth. The cat who caught the canary.

Neither of you blinked as he shouldered his way over, planted himself at your front. You didn’t have the presence of mind to look away initially, caught in the snare of his gaze. You gave first, blinking away (blinking away tears) and looking down. Scruff bared.

“Thought I’d scared ye off. But you’re made of stronger stuff, aren’t ye?” He licked his lips, mouth parting as the words sat behind his too-sharp teeth. So white, so pointed, so strange. It had you leaning closer, head tilting back as if to peer inside. “Couldnae stay away.”

Confusion cut the chord, sent you crashing back down and shaking. Is he talking about me or himself?

On second thought, did it matter what you thought? Like Aesop’s wolf, he had seen his shadow and mistaken it for truth.

You will filled with a sudden fury, buzzing across your skin and steeling your spine. Your mouth twisted, chewing over the words that you wanted to spit at him. The audacity to approach you again, affable as an old acquaintance! To box you in, to use his body as a threat. Power etched in every line; like a study oak, strong roots branching up to solid trunk and thick arms. But-

He was just a man, right? Just a man on a train.

“Well, kindly resist the urge in the future,” Your voice came out sharp, if lacking a little steadiness. “Let me pass, or I'm calling the inspector.”

You gathered your handbag, reaching for the pole to hoist yourself up and hoping that momentum would force him to move aside.

Foolish.

His thick-knuckled, clammy hand clamped around yours like a vice as you crashed into his chest. The friendly smile on his face warped into a terrible grimace, anger and confusion warring until they were bested by a calm that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Dinnae be like that, lamb,” his voice pitched low like rolling timber. It was pleasant, actually, shiver turning to shudder as your anger melted. Fight, flight or fawn? It seemed that you’d turned to ‘freeze’. Deer in the headlights, his hypnotic blue eyes bored into yours as you sought desperately for the anger -the fear- that you should be feeling. “Why don’t ye sit back down?”

The gentle chug-chug of the train over the tracks echoed the tattoo beating of your heart. The gentle sway and snick of sliding wheels soothed you, turning your mind static-y and slow.

You lowered yourself into the seat.

He smiled again, bright and happy, and you smiled right back.

He was handsome. So silly of you not to notice before! You had twisted him into some kind of scurrilous wretch, had built him up into a beastly bugbear ready to gobble you up and spit out the bones. What a funny thought. You laughed a little to yourself. Wicked imagination ye’ve got there, lamb. Clever.

You blinked drunkenly. You hadn’t seen his lips move.

He must’ve seen how your tongue lay heavy in your mouth, how your eyebrows tried to furrow together but couldn’t (-so heavy-) and drew the back of his knuckles across your cheek. So soft. Coarse, dark hair and callouses tickled at your peach fuzz, scraping lightly against the softness of your jaw.

You leaned into it, eyes drooping as your head drooped forward too.

“There’s a good girl. Feels nice when ye let it, aye?” his voice was thick, catching on the consonants and rumbling them out. He cradled your slack jaw, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise. Pulling your head back to look him in the eye was as easy as tugging at a marionette’s string. “Bet ye’d let me do more. Look at ye, fuckin’ beggin’ me to. Drooling an’ everything.”

His thumb swiped across your slack chin as two thick, blunt fingers forced their way past your lips. You felt yourself gag, retching as he pressed on the back of your tongue until his digits were slick. Something cried out in the back of your mind, shame and censure making itself pitifully known, but you swatted it away as you drooled around his hand. You felt a rough drag as he withdrew, catching on your blunt little teeth and pressing hard enough to leave imprints on his flesh.

You never even thought of biting down.

Enthralled, you watched him raise his hand to his face, slick fingers glistening under fluorescent lights like dayspring dew. One beat- another- he studied it, then you. A sommelier, taking in the aroma. Then, eyes blown wide, blue swallowed by black, he sucked his fingers into his mouth. Base, vulgar, vile, he groaned low and sucked hard. Smacking, esurient sounds echoed in the carriage and sent blood rushing to your face (-why-?)

“Fucking delicious,” his voice was gravel. “Taste better than ye smell, and ye smell divine.”

He leaned down low, crowding you against the back of the chair. You could do nothing but watch the rest of the carriage fade away until all you could see was him. He stood before you like an eclipse brought low, caging you between his bulky forearms as he whispered in your ear. Warning sirens flared up in your mind -predator! Wrong, unnatural, no!- but you heard them only as distant, tinkling bells.

Crouched low, he ran his nose down your neck and across your collarbones.

“Fuck, can smell yer cunt droolin’, too, under all those layers,” His exhale was throaty. Mournful, even. And, with one final inhale, desperate and harsh, he backed away shaking his head.

The train gave a hard jolt, rattling your skull against the window.

Your face was wet? Why was it-? You swiped at your damp cheeks as black spots danced across your vision.

You heard him laugh, low and mean, as he exited at the platform.

-------------- You didn’t remember walking home that evening. Didn’t remember anything until the next morning after a night of fitful, restless sleep. December days crept slowly, a sort of liminal space calendar counting down until the January blues. It was bleak; feeling the biting cold and watching boisterous festivities from the outside, like a child staring longingly through the window. Little matchstick girl, alone and out in the snow.

And you felt every inch the urchin as you stared in your foggy mirror, skin dry and eyes-puffy. There was a certain malheur to your gaze, a dimness of the light and vitality that should be there. Doleful and red-rimmed, you watched yourself blink. Watched yourself go through the motions. Run the tap, rinse your face. Grab the toothbrush and open wide-

It clattered in the sink, toothpaste smeared on the porcelain like impasto on a canvas. An impressionist streak of your scrambled thoughts.

Ceramic caught in a knuckle-cracking grip you hunched over the sink. Your breath came quick and your arms shook. Match-struck, fingers burned- the memory hit you like flare. The heat of it seared from the inside, white-hot and sickening. You gagged, spitting up in the sink as your eyes streamed.

It was the most alive you’d looked all morning.

The days followed with the static quality of a snow globe. Changes in routine were ephemeral, fleeting. Instead, snow fleeced down and swirled over twinkling lights and gingerbread houses. Inverbreck glowed merrily, strings of tinsel and candy-cane cards decorating the usually austere grey brickwork. A Presbyterian town turned to postcard, severity melting like marshmallows in chocolate. It was cheery, beautiful even, but spoiled. Someone had grabbed the bauble and shook too hard. Picturesque and trapped, you could only tap at the glass.

You stared through the frost-pricked window panes of a beautiful confectioner shop. MALLON AND MOYE, EST. 1849. Rich velvet and stained mahogany strained under boxes of chocolate and sweets. Their arms laden with little sugar flowers and candied fruit, you watched as cheery cherub-cheeked children skipped after frazzled parents. Quaint Victorian greetings stared up at you from the display, red-breasted robins and penny-farthings brought to mind a fellow miser. ‘Solitary as an oyster’, you and Ebenezer Scrooge. Bah, humbug. But, you weren’t quite that bitter yet. No.

Perhaps it was time to message some friends or family back home.

Something prickled at your neck, a needle-like warning. Whipping around, you saw only shoppers and tourists turning snow to sludge as they trudged along Main Street. Still, a chill remained, crawling over your chest and down your arms until your were goosebumped and shivery.

Then, you saw him.

You caught his eyes across the street, watched as the crowds parted around him as naturally as if he were a streetlamp. Your breath caught in your chest, frigid and jagged, like it had turned to ice in your lungs. You felt it cracking, ribs straining and head-light until you blinked away myodesopsia and inhaled, thin and reedy, through your nose. 'Muscae volitantes', you recalled - 'flying flies' in a Latin pleonasm that couldn't quite capture the speed and scale of the pestilent little black spots. The lights above your danced and blurred a dizzying ballet until you closed your eyes hard. When you opened them, he was gone.

Calm bit hard at you like sleet before sluicing off again. At home that night it melted away completely.

Slipped into your bag was a Christmas Card. The outside, a two jolly little oysters walking the beaches of Dover, holly scattered around the greeting. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU, MAY WE SOON MEET AGAIN. A Victorian card from the confectioner's display. Inside held only two words. Your name, and 'Johnny'.

You threw it in the fire, and turned away with shaking hands.

If you’d stayed to watch, you would’ve seen the way the flames shirked and withered around his name.

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

“Love, all you’ve got is a name- no surname, at that- and a description of half the fellas in Scotland. I’m sorry, but unless he does something threatening there’s nothing we can do.”

“So, what, I just have to wait for him to do something worse? That’s- really? He can just grab women in trains and follow them around the city and-“

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it. You said he grabbed your hip and that you see him in and around your train route. There’s not much to follow-up with here. Unless you want to make another report.”

“No-I,” an image stained your mind, pitch black and iniquitous. A great black blob seeping across the slate of your mind. You imagined submitting a complaint, imagined them reviewing the grainy CCTV footage to see you placid and starry-eyed as he fingered your open mouth. That same mouth that twisted and hesitated in the station now. “You know what? Never mind.”

Time ticked on as if through treacle. Slow and syrupy, you felt trapped in monotony and unable to shake the feeling of something dripping down your spine.

After the Christmas card you started to see him more and more. Just flashes here and there – a man on the other side of the platform; a mohawk in the city crowd; a pair of bright blue eyes peering at you from the bushes outside. That one scared you the most, heart seizing and strangling the air from your chest until the headlights from a passing car reflected in its gaze. Just eye-shine. Tapetum lucidum, the tapestry of light that blanketed the retina in a crystalline coverlet. Likely a neighbour’s cat or some other nocturnal creature. Creature of the night, aye.

Your shaking hands pulled hard at the curtains, shutting out peeping eyes and pernicious thoughts.

Seeing him back on the train was almost a relief. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ was an adage applicable only to those with enough friends and frivolity to nip anxiety in the bud.

For you, it bloomed like frost-bitten bluebells in the snow. Neither daunted nor distracted by the slate-grey sky or biting cold, it persisted. Thrived, even. Every raucous gaggle of friends and merrymakers reminded you that you were alone (solitary, vulnerable-). A choice dictated by economics and independence; the choking, nebulous tendrils of regret only twisted across your skull at times like these.

Like right now, right as he got on the very same stop as you and hovered just by the doors. Trying to ignore him was like trying to ignore a solar flare. You knew that you shouldn’t look -it was bad for you, dangerous even- but oh, so tempting. Even if you resisted the urge, abstained from looking with Eremitic restraint, you would still get burned. Closing your eyes, looking away – it was futile. Like a cynosure, luminous and warm in your peripheral you just couldn’t resist. A slight turn of the head, a small flutter of the lashes and there-

He wasn’t looking at you.

Shock, confusion, and a squirming, pathetic vein of disappointment slapped you like cold water to the face. You huffed out a breath that didn’t taste like relief and adjusted your grip on the railing. This was good. Great, actually. Maybe he’d been caught, maybe the police had actually done their job and issued a warning, maybe-

Maybe someone else had caught his eye.

The bitter, carbolic bile coating your throat wasn’t envy. No, no. It was dread. Dread that another poor thing had stolen tickled his fancy. You wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It was terrifying. It made you feel disgusting, pulled apart and laid bare at the whim of this covetous dog. He followed you for scraps, slobbered all over your hand when you let him close. Would probably hump your leg if you let him.

You let the passing countryside hush the discordant tumble of your thoughts. This was good. A Good Thing.

The rowdy press of football fans to your right snapped the elastic band in your mind. You’d stretched it too far, too thin -all him and the rolling pastures outside- and left yourself tired and worn. You hitched your bag tighter over your shoulder and stepped further to the bar. A panel up above confirmed you had three more stops to go. Three more stops until you could break down in your own home, pull apart the cotton stuffing of your thoughts and stitch up the mess anew.

“Hey, girlie. You got the time?”

The rolling pixels of the announcement board seemed to stick. There was a small patch on the bottom left that needed repairing, all green and black static.

“She’s away wi' it,” A loud, performative laugh. “Hello? You awake, love? Got the time or what?”

Blinking stupidly, you glanced to the right to see a mean, pointed face arching his eyebrow at you.

“Me?”

“Hardly asking the emergency stop button, am I?”

Flustered and on the spot you dug through your pockets for your phone. Another time, another place and you’d have told them to fuck off, sick of being belittled and bullied by crude, churlish men. But you’d had enough trouble on trains to last a lifetime.

“Hold on a sec,” you mumbled as you felt them pressing closer, pack animals closing in on the limping gazelle.

You could hear your pulse in your ears, beating hard and resonant as a drum and you cursed yourself. Cursed him, leaving you unable to tell danger from refuge. Your senses were broken, skin prickling at the slightest sound and hands shaking at a glance. All situational awareness shattered into smithereens and now, here you were, fingers slipping and trembling in your pocket as you tried to reach for your phone.

“Ah wouldnae bother if I were you.”

You froze. Swallowed down the lump in your throat and looked up through pricking eyes.

“You-” the sentence died in the cradle, feeble and spluttering as you trailed down the length of his arm. Right down to where it was clamped hard around the wrist of the man who had his hand halfway in your handbag.

Under the flickering lights of the carriage he looked ghastly. Positively ghoulish. Fluorescence sapped any lustre from his flesh, making him look deeply unwell. Wan and sunken and furious. His nostrils flared like a destrier, only there was no steam or heat to his exhale. It chilled to the point of burning, bright white. White as his eyes around pin-prick pupils. His dark stubble painted a grisly penumbra on the stark canvas of his face. You trailed your eyes down, down the dull stretch of his straining throat. You watched him swallow, eyes bobbing with the pulse of his Adam's apple.

"Take it easy, mate. Just a misunderstanding, aye?" you saw the dawning awareness in the man's eyes, the sudden apprehension of his low-rank on the trophic level. Big man brought low; mesopredator in the gaze of an apex species.

"Let me make it clear, then. Get yer hand away tae fuck before I remove it," the words rushed out in a cavernous growl, rumbled so low that you felt them belly-deep.

"Jesus, dial it down a bit," the man shuffled his feet, shifted his gaze between his you and his mate. As if you'd help him. As if you had any power here.

He tried to pull his hand back, straining against stone, before your unwelcome paladin hauled him in close. His thick, coarse hands looked strangely attenuated, blunt fingernails seemingly sharp as talons as the stranger winced and struggled. Johnny leaned down, looming like a vulture over scraps, as he brought himself cheek-to-cheek with his stunned quarry.

And you, too, were stunned. Hand still tucked in your pocket, phone loose in your feeble grasp. You watched, unwilling observer, as his face stretched into a horrifying rictus grin exposing pale gums and dripping teeth. His whisper chilled you to the marrow, scratching and harsh like a knife over bone.

"You live in Harnoch, right? Except, yer no gonnae get off at that stop. Yer getting' off at the next one, you and yer mate, and yer gonna take a nice long stroll down the darkest road ye can find until I find ye later."

Whether fear or thrall, you weren't sure. You just watched, etherised, as the pair shambled off, muttering to themselves and glancing back at the "psycho fuckin' bastard" panting over your crown.

You watched yourself through the reflection on the window, waxen and stiff as a mannequin. Maybe he'd get you to turn your head, dig his fingers into your cheeks and make you smile as he puppeted you to his whim. Hollow little marionette, you couldn't even feel the panic that had a cold sweat breaking across your forehead. Instead, you just felt the slow glide of his strong jaw as he hunched over you like a starving bandog. His stocky, powerful arms fettered over yours, curling into your ribs until you were held tight against his broad chest. Territorial aggression turned saccharine (artificial as aspartame).

"You need me, see," he licked at his chops. Breathed a miasmic lull over the racing of your heart. "Poor wee lamb."

You sunk into it, into the somniferous sway of the carriage under your feet and the man at your back. Later, you'd call it shock. A simple case of tachycardia restricting your blood flow, rabbit-quick heart flitting faster than you could process. Weakness, sweating, anxiety. Just a quirk of the circulatory system.

"I don't," your voice cracked, cut off the conclusion to your sentence. You wanted to scream it, 'I don't need you', but the words felt malformed. "I- You didn't need to do that."

"'Course I did," you could almost believe that you were lovers, the way he nuzzled into your neck. Would believe it, except for the hunger in his voice and the shudder ripping down your spine. "It's nice tae have a starter before the main course."

Stock-still, you felt his rough tongue lave across your neck. You couldn't see him in the window, but you felt him. Felt every, menacing inch of his bulk as he groaned softly into your vulnerable throat. A single, watery tear slipped over your lash-line. Traitorous, exiguous fluid. And of course, he caught it. Dug his thumb in and lapped it right up like the salt from your neck.

"Aw, didnae mean it like that. Dinnae cry, now," he cooed at you. Petted over your hair as he whispered trite, deceptive comforts in your ear. "Ye'll only drive me mad, and I already have plans fer tonight."

You sucked in a shuddering breath as the wheels screeched over the tracks. Commuters shouldered past you as the doors swooshed open, apathetic to the stilted tableau - a facsimile of a lover's embrace- playing out by the exit. With a lingering, wet kiss on your neck and a hard squeeze, he was gone.

That evening, you sobbed hard and choking into your pillow until it was sodden with tears and sweat.

Something scratched and tapped at your window all night, forcing you into an insomnious candlelit vigil. A pastiche of midnight mass, you cried out prayers like ritual devotions until the lambent quiescence of dawn. Trembling and over-tired, you snatched back the curtain to see only the swaying, overgrown branch of the elder tree outside your window.

Despite it no longer fruiting, you pretended the red smear on the pane was just juice from its berries.

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

The next time you saw him he was hearty and hale. Flushed and plump and healthy. Whatever it was that brought colour to his cheeks also put a spring in his step. Made him bolder, cheekier. An out-and-out scoundrel untouched by shame. He was always with you, right until the last few stops as the carriage grew emptier and emptier.

It was a game to him, seeing how far he could push before reproach. How far he could poke and prod at you until time or circumstance put him to shend.

At the busier stations, he pressed close and rocked with the motion of the train, all the while muttering filth in a discursive stream right into your ear. You were his 'poor wee lamb', bleating plaintively to the deaf ears of the rest of the herd. Too busy, too wrapped up in their own lives to notice the wolf that had ambled in in their clothing just to snap you up in his cavernous maw. He stayed that way, roving hands and rabelaisian growls forcing you to bite back squeals and tears as you endured his rough attentions.

He stayed that way even as the crowd grew sparser and sparser, something digging into your lower back as he grabbed at your hips. As he pretended that his clumsy gropes were only due to the jerking of the train.

Sometimes he'd talk to you like you were a real person, all chit-chat and greetings. He'd ask about your day and ramble through your silences. The chatter scared you more than any of the aberrant, salacious refuse he'd spew in your ear. Scared you more because it revealed how deeply unstable he was. Lonely, too.

A very dangerous combination.

"Made any New Year Resolutions yet, lamb?" this time he had you backed into the gangway, eyes dilated by more than just the dim light. "Want tae hear mine?"

Your lips were pressed so tight together that he had to struggle to slip his thumb in between. He tugged it down as he trilled out a falsetto "Yes, Johnny" in a parody of your voice.

"There ye go. Such a good listener," he patted at your cheek just slightly too soft to be a slap. "Ah've actually got a load, but I'll tell you the important ones. First one is to spend more time wi' loved ones. Been on my own fer a while, see, and ah don't think it's been too good for the mental health."

He knocked at the side of his head. There, under the shaggy growth of his dark hair was a shiny patch of skin. Pale and misshapen, like some kind of nebulous scar stretching across his temple. "Can start tae get all kind of strange ideas on yer own. Of course, you'd know all about that in that big empty house of yours."

He laughed at the way you startled, arctic eyes warm with sick amusement. Like having the ugly truth stare right back at you. You turned away from his nasty, knowing smirk.

"Second one is tae eat healthier. Been takin' in all kinds of muck, recently, tryna be restrained and all. But maybe it's no right to deny myself. Wouldnae want to have an accident, go really wild and do something that ah'd come to regret," he trailed off slowly at that, fingers stroking softly against your fluttering pulse. He swallowed hard, teeth glinting strangely under the fluorescent lights as he whispered more to himself than to you. "Just a wee bite, though, a little taste- wouldnae hurt much."

The chiming of the service announcement broke the spell.

With a strangled growl, he backed away fast enough to jostle those behind him. He shouldered roughly past them, earning you a few dirty looks as you stared blankly into the crowd.

How much you had changed in a matter of weeks. Stupid, placid thing. Getting yourself followed and felt-up after every other shift. Must be gagging for it. Desperate.

The thoughts sliced in like a penknife through wood. You + Johnny. And there you were, stripped of your bark and forced to endure the winter. Periderm torn off and leaking sap all over the floor of the carriage. Dripping it all the way home, 'Come and get me!' it seemed to say. 'I can't fight back'. Maybe someone would take pity on you, wrap you up from the cold and give you a chance to recover.

You huffed out a bitter laugh.

Maybe someone would dig deeper, peel back layers of phellem until you were weak and sticky and malleable.

It was more than pessimism. Beyond that entirely. The isolation, your job. The long commute and the melancholic ooze of wintery mist and fog. It permeated your mind, muddied you with the mucinous carcinoma of malism. And you didn't put up much of a fight, no. Why should you, when previous cries for help went unanswered? When you weren't safe on your own or in a crowd?

When the only person who checked in on you with any regularity was your stalker.

True to form, he was there the next night. And the next. On the train and in your dreams. Twisting, writhing, fever-hot nightmares that left you shaking and soaking wet. Lounging back on your pillows, supine and debauched. The profligate portrait of a ruined odalisque. In the palace of your mind you cried out for his touch. His attention. You could admit, in winding abstract corridors, that you were cold. You were lonely. There was something grotesque within you. Some ugly, hungry wretch that warped every whispered perversion and stolen touch into something soft. Something like tenderness.

You tamped it down. Smothered it, snuffed it out in the cruel, brumal light of day.

Still, you could no longer attribute the shakiness of your legs and quickening of your heart only to terror.

It escalated. He stayed longer on the train. Followed you to the empty train station and hovered like a poisonous pea-soup fog. On the nights when you were joined by a few work-weary stragglers he turned truculent. Swaggered around the platform and stared down anyone who so much glanced your way. Belligerent, and bulky enough to back it up, he soon drove away any well-meaning concern until you were cut-off. Cloistered and isolated under the procyon sky; stranded under the cold, dispassionate light of stars and constellations far above.

He was looking ill again. Ashen as he sat under the flickering lamplight on a lonely bench. You hesitated, feet dragging against damp concrete as you considered your escape. You swallowed at the sight of his wolfish grin, legs spread wide and shoulders lax against the wind-worn slats of his seat. No matter what, you would be forced to brush past as you found the exit gate.

You could only hear the soft buzzing of the streetlight and your own quickening breaths.

The flitting light cut through the fog, scratches of yellow on white illuminating every dust mote and jerky exhale. Yours, of course, not his. No, the air was perfectly still around him. Preternaturally so, like the powdery specks of station detritus were suspended under his thrall. He tilted his head at you, dark eyebrow raising and eyes - just for a second- glowing blue. Pure blue, no hint of pupil or white. Chatoyant and unsettling, surely some kind of refractive error. Surely.

You stepped closer.

The dull, squelch of your boots over slushy, grey puddles seemed embarrassingly loud. You had the impression that this was wrong somehow. That you were a simple, unworldly creature, announcing herself with an unsteady gait. Too naïve to know that she should stay still, duck down in the grass and hide until more interesting prey ambled past. Still, against all instinct and reason, you stepped closer.

"C'mon, lamb. Yer acting like ye know I'll bite."

You faltered slightly. "I-I think that you phrased that wrong."

He just grinned in response. Oh Johnny, what big teeth you have-

Sitting in the bench didn't diminish his stature. You'd thought, foolishly, that you would somehow have the high-ground advantage. That you could push your shoulders back and stride past him, slumped in the bench. You'd failed to account for his sheer mass, the menacing strength packed into layers of muscle and meat. Thick, bulky thighs looked wider as he sat, bulging over the slats. He hooked his elbows over the back, flexing the broad expanse of his chest. He swallowed up the space, stretching his legs out until they were right in front of you. Not a barrier, really. You could walk around them. Step over, if needs be. And yet-

You stopped, a hairsbreadth away.

A bead of sweat rolled down your temple. You saw his eyes follow it, pupils wide and black and hungry.

Words caught in your throat, dissolving under the churning waves of adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream. He must have noticed the slight tremble in your fingers, the way your exhales furled choppily in the frigid, oppressive air. Mouth dry, you licked your lips. A single, flaking piece of skin peeled up and, without thinking, you bit down. Tore it up, petal shredded until it wept a perfect crimson teardrop.

His head tilted sharply, nostrils flaring.

He scoffed, voice pitched low enough to burn. Friction, rumbling and coarse, scratched at the back of your neck. "And ye expect me not tae eat you up."

"I- What?"

"You expect tae walk away, expect me no tae eat you right up."

You reacted too slowly, limbs opiate-heavy and mind blank. You didn't even see him move.

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

And now there was something on your chest.

Coming-to was like wandering through a dark, drizzling mist with only a dying candle as your guide. It was humid, both clammy and altogether too-hot; the air felt suffocating. Like you couldn't get enough to fill your lungs. Whatever did filter through was marshy with the scent of earth and acid, sweat and musk. You'd gag if you could, the tang of warm copper pennies making you wrinkle your nose. And what a pyrrhic relief, that you could wrinkle your nose!

You tried again as something hot and stinging streamed over your flushed cheeks. Your fingertips ached with the need to swipe at it, smear it away and fan at the oppressive heat. A fool's hope.

You felt something viscid and sticky cooling on your skin. Senses came back slowly. First smell, now touch. Sound followed, sly and slow and vulpine. A fox, dancing just behind the treeline, chittering and smug as it slipped from sight. Maybe your eyes were open, but you just couldn't see? Perhaps your mind thought it a blessing - a mercy- to spare you the sight of the thing buried in your throat. Because that's where the sound was coming from.

Wet, greedy suckling mixed with heady moans. Something slick and rhythmic. Tension wound taut to pluck at low, indulgent notes and tristful exhales. A sinner's lament over a ruined fast; greed and guilt turned to fragrant wine atop the spoiled refectory of your body.

A tiny, sorrowful cry pierced out from your chest.

"Shh, just let me- ye have no idea how good you fuckin' taste," he was panting, breathless. You felt every harsh exhale against the stickiness of your nape. "Just need tae get-"

He trailed off with a choked groan. The slick sounds sped up, faster and faster as his breathing stuttered, and a sickening realisation cut through the fog. He nuzzled into your neck and It was just too much - the disgusting, heady noise, the tickling of his hair against your ear. The heavy press of his thighs atop your waist, and the pulsing ache of your throat. You lay there, corpse-heavy, as he drank from your neck and slated his lust. His bloodlust. The thought sliced like a sharp thorn.

It must have made you jerk slightly, barbed synapses firing and twisting in your hemorrhaging thoughts. He noticed. Hushed you with sickening sweetness and cradled your face with tacky fingertips (the noises weren't stopping, why weren't they stopping-).

"Havenae forgotten about you, lamb."

He trailed his fingers over your cheeks, a traitorous comfort, until he reached your eyes. Butterfly-soft he swiped at the lids until they fluttered. You noted with some panic how cold he felt, how waxen his flesh felt against yours. Not human, not natural; the inversion of a wake. You lay prone and exsanguinated on the bed with the wraith peering over. Only the wet drag of flesh on flesh above convinced you that this was real. There was no hysterical hallucination that would bring you this low, no psychosomatic stress response that could conjure an apparition of this kind.

Yet, acceptance was wily. It slipped through the haze of your marshy thoughts and hovered phosphorescent just out of reach. You ached to follow it, to reach out and grab this sickly little portent and swallow it whole.

But you couldn't.

Poor thing, how could you? Lying belly-up and throat ripped open.

(So you sank into it).

It must have sweetened you somehow, those balmy notes of submission sighing through your bloodstream. An ambrosia for the vaurien. You felt as soon as it hit his tongue because he cursed. Snarled out a 'fuck!' in a way that was almost angry, and curled over you like a dog. Like a filthy, slavering beast atop the spoils of the hunt. Something splattered across your stomach and you realised with shame that you were naked.

Your vision came back muted. Diplopia stretched and warped your already lagging senses, sending the room-spinning to a dizzying tilt. At first he was more shadow than man. A horrifying phantasm of wicked, grasping want. You had never seen a face so hungry, so unsatiable, after a feast. He was naked as you were, but that was no relief. A terrible, lupine grin slashed across his face as his eyes met yours, whites and iris swallowed by the pitch-black bleeding of his pupils.

And yet, you tried desperately to read something soft there. Some small hint of tenderness or pity- why else would he bring you home? Strip you bare to lay you on a bed of satin? And yes -there. There was a slight wetness to his feverish gaze. A flickering, greedy hope hiding behind his appetites.

"Dinnae hide away," he must have read the horror on your face. The way you impotently strained to turn. "You're in me now. Part of me. Not much else left tae hide."

It was meant to be comfort, a reverent whisper in a raw, aching tone, but it left you feverous. You felt shivery, head packed with cotton wool and eyes still so heavy. (Inside him? You were, weren't you). Ripe little pomegranate glittering in ruby and just oh-so-tempting.

He was inside you too, you realised only just now. He had dogged your routines, scratched out a space for himself in your mind. Scratched deeper and deeper, burrowing in until you were pulpy and hollow. A necrotizing fasciitis spread from the very first time he kicked your legs open and groped at your soft flesh.

You were spread now, too. Rough, calloused hands caught on the goosebumps of your thighs, tickling slightly all the way down to your ankles.

He was slow, more gentle than you'd ever imagined him to be. This creature of rapacious appetites, who plucked you from the tree before you were even ripe. Now, he took his time, drank in the sight of you just as he had supped at your blood. You were shaking, an involuntary response to his careful groping. To his strange, lukewarm flesh. You felt simultaneously trapped and out of body - a sick, amytal fugue. A chemical sedation by sight, smell, and his strange thrall. Even the scent of him, musky and rich, seemed to fill your lungs and choke out resistance.

You couldn't see how he slid down your body, couldn't lift your head and follow his path. Instead you watched the sickly photism left by his strong palms. You knew where he was headed, sparks alighting a roadmap from your bare things to your core, and you squeezed your eyes shut. All that you could do. You heard nothing but the whisper of rough hands against soft skin, and his heavy breathing mixing with yours. He lost patience; you noticed the slight growl catching in his throat a fraction before he squeezed hard. A slurred cry slipped past your lips-

"Shh, be patient. Ah have tae be careful, havenae done this since before," His voice was rueful, some note of loss spoiling the low burr of desire.

It made you open your eyes, curiosity slipping past horror, until you could see his face hovering in the dark. There was a horrible, jagged edge to his handsome features. Strangely shorn hair, skin dull and etiolated. Those shining, expressive eyes. Like something grown in the uncanny valley - it made you blink back tears.

"Ah mightn't have needed to try so hard, then. You might'nae have played so coy," He continued. Deluded, you wanted to scream. But, your neck prickled, noticed some shadows in the humour. Memories and pain. With it came the barest flicker of vitality on his face before it was gone, replaced by something that lurked in dark corners.

He distracted himself with more reverent, disgusting touches, hushing you as whines clawed their way out with kitten-strength. You trembled in your unnatural prison, bound and silent as he spread your legs so wide that they burned. He forced himself in between, stocky thighs keeping yours open to his gaze.

Cool touch replaced cool air as he grazed your bared cunt, softly at first. More petting than a touch, the width of his hand covered you entirely. Were you not already, it would have sent you reeling. Dizzy with the thought of his breadth, the rough contrast of his hand against you sensitive inner flesh. He sucked in a harsh breath and you felt his fingers flex slightly. Something within you knew that he was holding back bruising strength.

"So fuckin' cute," You blinked, realising that he was looking down as he spoke. He spread his fingers, opening you entirely to his greedy, pitch-dark eyes. Your face burned, hot at the feeling and at the filth he uttered as he shifted closer. "Already knew you were pretty, but I didnae know you'd look so fuckin' cute like this. Poor wee lamb, she's aching, isn't she? Can see she's cryin' for me."

You didn't respond. Couldn't- not with your heavy, leaden tongue. The rawness of his voice scraped over you, made you shiver in a way that he mistook for desire. When you tried to give voice, to rail against his insidious assertions, all you could muster was a feeble cry.

That too, he took as his; your body, your blood, your voice.

"Dinnae fuss- ah'll make it good for ye. Just need tae keep a handle on my strength, see. Cannae have ye writhing around," he must have caught your pitiful glare, the furrow of your wide, limpid eyes, as his face softened. Just a fraction, a little oil poured over jagged deadwood.

It slicked his words, all arrogance, confidence. Assuredness ."Ah've taken the edge off already. Didnae plan on grabbing you tonight, but ah've no been able to hunt since that night."

His words dripped over you like tar, filling in the blanks and empty spaces. It's funny, his explicit assertion - the murder, committed in your name- made you want to freeze. The contradiction crashed over you, made you kick slightly - just a smidge. A feeble little flaring of deadened synapses, but you did it. the tingling in you fingertips now felt more like hope.

(You doggedly ignored the tingling in your stomach).

"Ye've done something to me, I just-. There was nothing there after," he gestured to his head, shook the thought off like a rabid dog. Even through the tangle of his hair you could see it, that strange pale keloid spidering across- "after- but now there's you. Smelled ye on that train from the very front carriage. Fuckin' ripe - sweatin' up under yer coat, actin' so shy."

He grinned down at you. Silly little lamb, it seemed to say, who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

I am - your fingers twitched against the sheets.

Your legs, though- they stayed spread open. An asthenic sprawl, leaving you open to inspection and touch and invasion. A moth pinned to a hobbyist's board, entirely thrall to his will. It prickled over you, stifling heat building with every stroke of his hands. They'd returned to your core to find a slight wetness, slicking the way for his thick fingers to probe deeper. You saw his nostrils flare, the flick of his tongue against his - too long, too sharp- canines.

"Naughty wee thing, tryin tae get my mouth down there," there was a wickedness to the tilt of his lips, the low tease of his voice. He pressed his thumb hard into your thigh until the flesh ached and dimpled. You felt your frantic, fitful pulse fluttering underneath. His voice dropped lower. "If I bit you there, I wouldnae stop."

You sighed out relief when he let you go, only for your breath to hitch as he slapped your pussy. Hard. An admonishment for your perceived allurement.

He shushed you as he soothed it, broad hand feeling warmer and warmer as he stroked. A parasitic heat, spreading from you to him, and back again. It made you confused, discarnate. Some formless being laid out for him, striped of all but flesh. You moaned - mournful, dizzy- as he pressed one thick digit inside. The slight catch of his rough skin, the drag of his coarse knuckle inside sent you spinning. Pulsing, body crying for more as your mind struggled to catch up.

He knew. Rewarded your plangent cries with another finger. He stretched you wide, your thin delicate entrance throbbing around him until the slick dripped down his wrist.

"Look at that," the squelch of his hand made you whine, desire murky with shame. He tapped at your clit, just a little flick against the pebbled flesh. "Havenae even touched you here yet, and just look at you."

You wanted to writhe, to twist away from the pleasure-pain of his steady circling. But you couldn't. couldn't do anything more than lie there and endure it. You felt your thighs begin to shake, nerves twitching and seizing until finally - finally - you could cry out-

"-please, please I can't-"

"You fuckin' will," he growled it, thumb never breaking pace as he curled his fingers inside, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

It hurt, body clenching hard under an unnatural lull. You wanted to stretch out, arch back and curl your toes-

Instead, you sobbed.

Wrung out, mind-spinning and body twitching. Wetness cooling on your dewy, sensitive flesh - your cunt, your stomach, your neck. It all made you sob, a post-orgasmic ataxia. A night terror in waking.

He grabbed your face with his hand, still wet with your slick. Pressed hard into the plump cheeks until your mouth opened. You blinked blearily up at him, docile and trembling.

"You need me too, don't you?" Dumbstruck, you just looked up. There was something wild to his eyes, lust and hunger and something…empty. You could still see little drying flecks around his mouth, rust on snow. "Say it, ye need me."

You could blame it on whatever powers he wielded. On how you lay fallow. Ploughed yet unseeded at his touch.

"I-," your voice came out scratchy. Weak. "I need you."

He forced you to say it again, to bleat it out for him as he panted above you. Every whispered plea was like looking in a mirror that he held before you. Glassy-eyed, you stared back at your own loneliness.

It really was just you, and this thing. It started to settle, the basest of notions. You needed him-

(wasn't there something else niggling at the back of your mind-?)

"Yeah, ye do. It's why you've been walking around by yerself. Begging for someone tae snap you up. Lucky it was me."

(Lucky for whom?)

It didn't matter. He wasn't yet sated. How could he be, this creature of appetite? Gluttonous, greedy, gorging thing. A walking perversion; sin turned gourmand.

Your helium thoughts flew off like balloons - snip, snip, snip - with the snick of his slick teeth like scissors. He lapped at your neck once more, snuffed into it and groaned. You felt him against your entrance, crude, blunt cock sliding clumsily between your folds until it notched home. You couldn't see it, but the feeling had you whining plaintively in the cage of his arms. It was obscene; some ithyphallic nightmare of too-large flesh.

And then he pressed in.

Slowly at first, your body still wound too tight to accept him comfortably. But he made a space for himself, rocked his hips and hitched a thigh high over his bulky shoulder so that he could watch the way you squeezed. You clenched at the graze of his teeth against your neck, a horrible little thrill making you cry as he took you apart on his cock. Every thrust had you trembling, sent you sliding up the sheets and closer to his dripping maw.

But, oh- he had you trapped. Thrust up towards his teeth, or squirming down harder on his cock. An impossible choice, but you tried to make it. Poor thing.

Until you had no choice. Until his hips thrust harder, sucked in with an obscene squelching that had you gritting your teeth. His hot, slick tongue grew rougher until you felt a sting. Shameful, unending suckling filled the room and you felt your eyes flutter heavy once more.

Limp, placid, despoiled. Your body was in service to a slavering parasite. It infected you, this predaceous desire. Made you hot and sick in equal turns. Your core ached, clit throbbing as you slurred out your pleas. To stop, to keep going, to make you come, to leave you alone-

You felt his hand, now closer to your temperature. He dragged it across your slack lips, before digging it into your eyelid and tugging cruelly upwards.

"There ye are," he rasped, mean and breathless. "Cannae have ye driftin' off again. Not until-"

You were shivering again, fire burning deep inside but yet so cold. Clammy. Thoughts came hazy as an oil lamp flickering in the fog. It blanketed you, left you dreamy and carefree (and wrong- wake up-).

Still, he didn't stop, cruel thrusts and sharp teeth, until you felt like you'd float away. You felt him so deep, heard him groaning as he lost his pace and fumbled around your clit until you wriggled uselessly -'good girl, don' fight it, just need ye t-' and came. Stars danced across your vision, obscuring his ferine grimace, and you let them. Decarnate, you sagged into the sheets. Felt the soft tickle of his coarse hair on your chest as he kissed you frantically - finally.

It was nasty. All copper-tinge and spit and tongue. He licked into your open mouth as his hips stuttered, and with a choked moan he came.

He didn't move at first, just crushed you under his (-corpse-heavy-) bulk. You felt sticky and raw where he was buried inside, thick globs of come leaking out and mixing with the slick on the ruined bedsheets. You whined as he pulled out, a soft little 'ah' that he swallowed up with another cruel kiss.

"One day, ah'll have every single part of you," he whispered it like a promise. A constrictive, binding geas that sent your heart racing in your tight chest.

Unable to move, unable to answer you just let a tear slip over your lashline. Lacrima for a rain-laden rose; you drooped against the pillows. Under him.

Forever.

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

'Shee droopeth in her minde, As, nipt by an ungracious winde, Dothe some faire lillye flowre.'

massive thanks to stelle, gougie, bwuh, three, and woolie for listening to me whine about this for the past three weeks. probs wouldn't have posyed without your support <3

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: slutty little drabble, dead dove do not eat (?), f!masturbation, somnophilia/somno, noncon, stalking, mentions of slasher shit, murder, fingers, sex but just the tip ;), nonconsented insemination, breeding, cummy fingers, tasting cum, semi hate fuck? oh yeah afab

a/n: sorry for writing heinous shit. this is the only thing that gets me writing these days ;( not proofread

Slasher!stalker who really did want to kill you, instead fantasizes about spearing you against his fat, girthy cock every hour of the day. Baby, you're a sick and twisted addiction scented like sweet, powdery perfumes and dewy lotion.

He was supposed to hate you, and if he was being honest, he did hate you. Once or twice when he followed you home. You're such a dumb little creature, the classic opening scene in every horror movie. Don't you watch the news, baby? There's a murderer on the loose. You're just a dumb cliche, walking home alone after a late night out with your friends.

God, your friends. They were even worse than you. So he killed them, with the intention of you being his next victim. But of course, he didn't, he couldnt, because at least you intrigued him. Intrigued him with the cute little performances you'd put on every night, your fingers reaching between your thighs every night, whining on your own fantasies of a few little touches to help you sleep through the night. He'd watch your pussy puff up from all your rubbing, huffs and mewls you didn't bother to stifle—like you wanted him to catch you, to man handle you face down and ass up so he could fuck tears out of those pretty eyes.

A shame really. You're so hard to self pleasure. You get so frustrated that you sit up in bed with your blanket fallen to your lap while you needily hump your fingers, rocking your hips and pinching your nipples swollen just to cum, barely able to make yourself orgasm, he'd be in heaven if he got to watch you cream or squirt all over the bed sheets. He'd be liar if he said he didn't record those rare instances you gasped and trembled out of a semi satisfactory finish. A little visual for his own nightly routine, something to fist his cock to after a gorey day of "work". He'd be so much better you, baby. He'd actually make you cum.

A concept he practices every now and then. Proved by those strange mornings you'd wake up with your panties missing, which, honestly wasn't even his fault, you were the one who fell asleep with that damp spot showing off just above your pussy. Could you blame him for wanting to sneak over and taste the product? You were such a deep sleeper too, pratically pleading for him to dip his fingers into your sticky cunt. Your syrupy juices clinging in a neat shine across his long fingers. He'd bring it to his face, sniffing it with a low groan. His cock painfully erect against his jeans, he'd give himself a little rub, suckling his fingers clean as a little reward.

A real treat for a hard days work. Even if you'd probably wake up one day and scream at him for violating you, at least your pussy knew how to appreciate him. It would take just the tip of his cock without much fight, pratically sucking him off the moment he popped in. He'd cum embarrassingly fast, pulling out just to finger his milky expense back in, no reason to let it go to waste.

You'd wake up the later that night, sore in places that felt good, "wet", some dry residue splattered down your inner thighs. Maybe even a chocolate or three left on you night stand. Compensation, anyone?

[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.”

[pure-smut]

obsessed.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, somnophilia, dub/non-con (reader is asleep), cunnilingus, fingering, toxic love, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of male masturbation

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.3k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

It had been one week since you fucked Ryomen Sukuna. One week of you going to class, meeting up with friends, reading in your favourite café. One week of total, blissful obliviousness to the effect you had on Sukuna.

Stalker is a loaded term, but probably an accurate one, Sukuna thinks to himself as he watches you walk home. He’s no stranger to one-night stands – in fact, he tends to thrive off them. But you’re different. Sukuna can’t stop thinking about that night. The noises you made, the way you felt, the euphoria of marking your insides with his cum.

Sukuna is obsessed.

Luckily for him, you live on the ground floor. And he’s just spent a week learning how to lockpick a window from YouTube.

He waits until the lights go off in your bedroom before sidling up to the window. He’s big and not always graceful, but he’s extra careful tonight. He waits outside the window until the moon hangs high in the sky, until he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep. And then he puts everything he learned to use and carefully breaks open the window.

It’s not his fault, not really. It’s not like you left him your phone number and he has no idea what your socials are – he guess you’re pretty private? And every time you caught each other’s eyes on campus, you only looked away. Worse, you looked uninterested.

Didn’t you feel what he felt that night? Didn’t you share in that ecstasy? He knows you did because he watched you cream on his cock.

So this little game you’re playing is irrelevant. Sukuna wants you now. He wants you always.

He stands in the dark of your room, watching you sleep in the dim, silver glow of moonlight. Truthfully, he didn’t think much of you when you first came up to him. A pretty face, no doubt, but nothing special. Nothing unlike all the other girls he’s fucked and never spoken to again. But something unlocked inside him that night. Now, looking at you, he feels a rush of affection. Sukuna bends down to brush a lock of hair from your face, desperate to kiss you again. You don’t even stir.

Sukuna smiles to himself. Even in your sleep, you trust him. It encourages him to slowly pull off your blanket, leaving you only in your panties. He stands back, taking a moment to admire you. The beautiful curves of your body, the gentle rise and fall of your naked chest, your hair splayed out across the pillow.

“My beautiful girl,” he murmurs to himself under his breath. Because that’s what you are – his.

Sukuna slowly crawls onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress. He makes sure to move carefully so as not to wake you. He know he can’t fuck you, not like this, not when you need to work his cock slowly inside you. But he’s okay with that – tonight, he wants to taste you.

That night, after you’d left, Sukuna had run his fingers along his cock, scooping up a mixture of his and your cum. He recognised his own taste but yours was new. Delicious. He’d spent the whole week thinking about it, fisting his cock to the thought of tasting you again.

Now’s his chance.

He gently lays himself between your legs, nudging between them. With the size of his body, it spreads your legs nicely for him, affording him a clear view of your panty-clad pussy. Sukuna casts a longing glance at your bare tits but tells himself to be patient – this won’t be the last time he gets to touch you.

Sukuna turns his gaze towards your pussy, taking a deep inhale. You’re not wet yet but he can still smell you, sweet and feminine. It makes him ravenous.

Carefully, keeping one eye on your face to check your reaction, he drags your panties to the side. You don’t stir.

My sweet angel is a heavy sleeper, he notes to himself happily. Perfect.

Faced with your naked pussy in front of him, so inviting, Sukuna leans forward and licks a tentative stripe along your lips. He glances up to check your reaction. Nothing.

Encouraged, Sukuna laps at you softly, slowly dipping his tongue between your folds to seek out more of your nectar. He wants so badly to wrap his large arms around your thighs and hold you flush to his mouth, to eat you the way he knows you deserve. But he has to be gentle right now.

Sukuna is not a man who begs. He won’t suffer the indignity of seeking you out publicly, making the first move. No, he wants you to come to him. He wants you to say please, please stuff your cock inside me again.

The thought makes his cock stir, throbbing against the confines of his sweatpants. Sukuna trails his tongue up to your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking softly. You whimper in your sleep and the sound is music to Sukuna’s ears. He starts to grind against the mattress, desperate for some friction.

With one hand, Sukuna cautiously dips a finger between your folds, now puffy and slick with arousal. He can feel your hole, the tight ring of resistance that he pushes past slowly, and he remembers how it felt wrapped around his cock. He pulls back and bites his bottom lip to stop from groaning. Fuck. He’s not going to last long like this.

Cum for me, pretty girl, he thinks, pressing his finger deeper and sucking on your clit again. Cum on my tongue.

As if you can hear his thoughts, your hips start to buck. Even in your sleep, you can’t get enough of him. You need more of him. Sukuna curls his finger, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and stroking it. You gasp and groan, still asleep but your body responding. Sukuna licks your arousal before circling up to meet your clit once more, swiping the flat of his tongue against it.

A dam inside you breaks. In some distant dream, your orgasm ripples through you, making you fist the bedsheets and curl your toes. Sukuna feels you clench around his finger and nearly cums himself. How this tight little hole swallowed his whole cock is a wonder.

Not to risk overstimulating you and waking you up, Sukuna withdraws his finger as your orgasm subsides. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sucks your arousal from his finger.

Fucking delicious.

He’s painfully hard now and wants desperately to coat you in his cum but he can’t give away that he was here. He needs to be patient. And if Sukuna wants something, he can be patient as a saint about it.

But he's not leaving empty-handed.

Quietly, he pulls your panties back into place, smoothing them over your now soaking mound. In the corner of your room, he spies the laundry basket - it doesn't take him long to find what he's looking for.

Sukuna restraints himself to only one pair of your used panties, plucking them from your other clothes. He brings it to his nose to inhale the scent of you, your taste still lingering on his tongue, and he has to stop himself from groaning. You have no idea how badly he wants to be inside you, to feel your heavenly pussy around his cock.

He had promised himself he was going to leave but how can he? You're lying there looking so fucking perfect, so ripe for the taking. Sukuna balls his hands into fists to stop from reaching out to you.

No, he has to go. If you discover he was here, you'll never come near him again. This is his little secret and he'll take it to the grave.

Later, he knows he'll spend the rest of the night with your panties pressed against his face and his fist around his cock, replaying the night you spent together in his mind. It'll be a cheap imitation but it'll have to do... for now.

He withdraws into the shadows of your bedroom, climbing back through your window and closing it silently behind him.

Until next time, he thinks.

Taglist: @tojis-ball-sack @moonjellyfishie @kalulakunundrum @benimarusimp33e

masterlist

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[istjisung]

hiii, hope you’re having a great day 💕 ¿could i ask for stepbrother jaemin that wakes u up by eating you out if it’s alright? thank you so much 💞💞

—🐰

content warnings stepcest, noncon, oral sex, munch!jaemin, somnophilia, petnames (princess, baby), sex dreams, slightly rushed and abrupt ending

don’t like it? don’t read it!

you’re not sure when the dreams started, but oftentimes lately, you find yourself having sex dreams. the kind of sex dreams that, weirdly, are all surrounding jaemin. jaemin, your stepbrother. the kind, gentle, energetic, wholesome jaemin. the one who always treats you like royalty. calls you princess or baby. would never step out of line and do something as dirty as this, with you of all people. you feel disgusting and perverted and disgustingly perverted for even allowing your subconscious to go that far.

but something about these dreams feel too real, too…much to be just a product of your imagination.

you feel like if you focus hard enough, you can smell jaemin, the scent of his shampoo and cologne flooding your nose, feel his touch. more often than not, you wake up with panties so sticky and wet that you couldn’t believe it was just from leaking while you dreamt about your stepbrother. perhaps you had touched yourself in your sleep, or angled your hips a certain way in which you could grind them and soak your panties. somehow, though, you have a gut feeling that that’s not the case.

the dreams never went much further than some touching, a bit of fingering, or oral at the furthest. the image was fuzzy, but it felt real. again, too real to just be a figment of your imagination. you’d never confirmed your suspicions, though, until now.

you’re having one of those dreams again. this time, you were laying on your back, the blankets thrown off of your body and the cool air of the night was chilling your body. but you felt hot. your legs were spread, knees bent to angle your hips, and he was buried between your plush thighs. his soft hair tickled your skin as he dives deep into your pussy, tongue licking over the slit, collecting your juices before he closes his lips around your clit and suckles. you swore you could feel the shock waves of pleasure as he alternated between flattening his tongue against your whole pussy, and tightening the muscle to a point, flicking it over your clit or fucking it into your tight and wet hole.

rocking your hips, you feel the tip of his nose bumping against your hard and sensitive bud, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, causing you to begin to stir awake. you were sure once you wake up, the pleasure would go away, but the more you regain you consciousness, albeit fuzzy, the more you feel it. you can hear the wet noises of the slurping, saliva mixing with your messy arousal, and they keep getting louder.

you open your eyes one at a time, staring up at your ceiling. sleep still blurred your eyes, so you tried blinking it away. when you finally feel that you can sleep well enough, you start to look around the room. nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except for the fact that your door was cracked open when you thought you’d closed it before going to sleep. maybe you didn’t latch it, so the draft throughout the house pushed it open. but then you looked down.

and there he was. jaemin, your stepbrother, between your legs.

you can see him clearly through the small stream of light from the hallway light seeping through the cracks in your door. jaemin is laying on his stomach between your legs. his large hands have your thighs pushed apart, knees bent so he can have full access to your cunt. it feels like ten minutes have passed as you take in the sight before you realize that this shouldn’t be happening. this is wrong.

with a gasp, you try reaching heavy, tired hands down to push him away from your center. unfortunately, his lips were wrapped around your clit and the attempt at shoving him away only made him suck deliciously on the delicate bundle of nerves.

“jaemin,” you whispered, voice hoarse with sleep. “stop…you can’t do this. it’s wrong…”

jaemin looks up at you, his eyes dark and unreadable. he smirked as he pulled away. he breathes out a laugh. “you’re dreaming. go back to sleep, baby. nana will take such good care of you.”

[spideyhexx]

welcome <3 to my first kinktober!

Here you will find a masterlist of all the upcoming fics and the links will be added as they're posted!

Stay spooky🎃

cw: gunplay, piss, somno, abo, power play, bloodplay, cnc, dubcon, exhibitionism

October 1st

on trial - ModernLawStudent!Coriolanus Snow x Reader (cunnilingus)

October 2nd

bro code - Brother'sBestFriend!Rafe Cameron x Reader (cnc & thighfucking)

October 4th

hot wheels - Sam Woodbridge x Reader (quickie & car)

October 7th

scaredy cat - Billy Bonney x BountyHunter!Reader (gunplay)

October 9th

embracing the embrace of chaotic chaos - Eddie Munson x Reader (piss & somno)

October 11th

mrs. plinth - Husband!Sejanus Plinth x Wife!reader x Coriolanus Snow (cuckholding)

October 13th

come right on me - Sam Woodbridge x Reader (cumplay & edging)

October 15th

touching me, touching you - Academy!Sejanus Plinth x Reader (massage)

October 18th

hostility maintenance - Patrick Zweig x Reader (hate sex)

October 19th

prince in distress - Prince!Coriolanus Snow x Knight!Reader (body worship)

October 20th

closing argument - Jack Prescott x Intern!Reader (office & power play)

October 22nd

royal reckoning - Prince!Billy Bonney x Villager!Reader (lovemaking & angst)

October 24th

bloody, bliss, belt, and billy - Saccharine!Billy Bonney x Reader (bloodplay & fingering)

October 26th

conflict accumulating in clothed collisions - Academy!Coriolanus Snow x Academic Rival!Reader (dry humping)

October 27th

duty of desire - Peacekeeper!Snowjanus x Reader (dubcon/noncon & piss & **** ******)

October 29th

in the jailhouse now - Saccharine!Billy Bonney x Reader (exhibitionism)

October 30th

erotica - Coriolanus Snow (collections from Coryo's journal)

October 31st

the midnight prairie - Billy Bonney x Vampire!Reader (bloodplay & cnc)

[islandofthedollz]

❤︎Get well soon ❤︎

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

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

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

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

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

Time skip to 10 minutes

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

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

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

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

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

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

[missbunnybunny]

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗

▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊.

╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝

𝕿𝖜: ☞ 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝙽𝚘𝚗-𝚌𝚘𝚗, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 thoughts, 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢, 𝙱reeding, 𝙼ind break, 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖, 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃! «🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» ☜

Note: This is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader.  pet names such as Darlin, Love, and Good Girl, etc. are used.

If I forgot something plz tell me. Like and re-blog, it helps getting these stories to new people!

����𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖓', 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓' ❣️💌💌 part 1

Y/n was startled awake and panicked. Holding the sheets over her naked body, she found herself in an unfamiliar room. 

Silent tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. He tricked you and took advantage of your kindness. 

You mourned your lost innocence for a short time when a knock on the door interrupted you. 

“ I apologize for waking you up, miss Y/n.” a handsome man wearing a suit and carrying a tablet said. 

The scared woman clenched the sheets tightly, “ My name is Ray. Mister Blackwell has asked for you to join him for breakfast.” the man expressed. 

“n-No! I want to go home…let me go!” Y/n cried, face red from crying. “ I'm afraid I can not let you do that.” he shakes his head, “The maids will come and help you dress,” Ray commented before turning and leaving the room.

You cried until your lungs burned and hurt. Until your body could no longer produce tears, the maids shortly came. They helped you bathe and dress in a beautiful gown. They tried to cheer you up, but it was to no avail. 

Soon, Y/n sat next to James at a large binning table. He kissed your cheek and caressed your skin. His touch was sweet and caring if it didn’t disgust you. Food was served, but you didn’t want to eat. You don’t trust that it’s not drugged again.

“ Say ah~ my dear,” he says, pressing a fork to your mouth. When you don’t respond, he squeezes your inner thigh. When your lips parted in a yelp, he fed you. He continued to feed you. If you didn’t open your lips fast enough, he would swirl your sensitive pearl. 

The food was finished, and tears dripped down your soft skin. “ Come on, smile for me, sweetheart,” he asked, cupping your face and whipping your tears. “ I just want to go home.” You tearfully repeated. 

“ We can’t have that, dear. This is your new home.” James informed her as he stole a kiss from her. “ I want to go to my store,” Y/n pleaded. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

“ I already told your employees to take a weeks-long paid break.” James, shut your request down. He wasn’t going to tell you that, but Ray hacked your email and made such arrangements.  

Your face dropped all hope of escaping, where shattered. 

It had been a few days, and James made sure that all doors were locked, and Ray informed you that you could go anywhere. But strongly warned that you couldn’t be outside without supervision. 

James never left your side for your entire time locked in the large mansion. Sleeping, bathing, or even walking, he was there touching any sliver of skin he could. If he couldn’t find you for a moment or have his hands on you, he would lose his shit. 

James knocked on the door to his room, smiling when he found your sleeping figure under the covers. 

He kissed your lips, his tongue intruding your mouth. Lifting the covers from your naked body, his fingers began to caress your sensitive bundle of nerves. He thanked himself for prohibiting you from wearing clothes to bed. 

Your back arched as you woke up with a moan. He knew you were still sensitive from last night. His fingers began to pump into your flower, while his thumb still caressed your clit. Y/n hit his toned chest, but that only fueled his passion even more. 

Your lips parted as he gave you a dreamy sign. “ I have to go into the office, honey,” James spoke, latching his mouth to your chest. Your hand pulled on his hair, making the man moan. 

James curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot, over and over. The tight coil in your stomach made you whine, walls clamping on his fingers. 

With one more firm thrust, the coil in your tummy snapped. Honey gushed over his hand, withdrawing his hand, and licked it clean.

“ I have a meeting today, so unfortunately I won't be with you for a few hours. Be a good girl and behave.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, taking his leave and leaving you tired. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Y/n walked towards the side door, hoping, begging that she would get lucky. And it seemed that her prayers were answered. The maids forgot to close the door.

Her hand trembled and twisted the doorknob, slowly opening it. The wind blew, signaling she was one step closer to freedom. The door was left ajar as the woman ran to the street, with no phone and no way to contact her family and friends.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, ending up in the station. One she couldn’t enter because she had no money. An old lady exiting the station called out to her, asking if she was okay. 

Y/n said she was, but her eyes betrayed her. The kind old lady offered her help, to which she took it. “ I…I just need help to run away,” she admitted, desperate to leave. She didn’t know when they would have already noticed her absence.

The kind lady smiled and accompanied her to buy a ticket. When she handed the ticket to Y/n, the girl cried, thanking her. 

Y/n gave the lady all the jewelry she had, as a thanks and wanting to part with them in fear of recognition.

The train had arrived, and she left. Free, she was free. 

She planned to return home, take all her valuables, and disappear. She would be sad to close her store, but it was needed. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James sat in the meeting, bored, his assistant as always trying to get his attention with skimpy clothes. She would never be like Y/n. She was dirt under his goddess's feet. 

Ray came into the meeting room, whispering something into the CEO's ear. James looked like a deer caught in headlights, “ You sure?” he asked, looking at Ray. The man only nodded. 

“ I apologize, but something important has come up.” he expressed, standing up and abruptly ending the meeting.  

“ Ray, get the helicopter. I’m bringing my little darlin’ wife home.” James expressed, loosening his tie. 

The train ride was an hour and a half, so she could get some well-needed rest. But her mind raced, what ifs consumed your every thought.

 “ Ladies and gentlemen, we inform you that the train will have a small delay. We shall be on standby for some time.”  the conductor announced, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard. 

Dread filled your stomach, making it sink. 

“ Miss, please come with us.” a man in a suit said, “ You have the wrong person,” Y/n said, hoping it would work. 

“ My sweetheart, don’t make me punish you. Not in front of everyone here.” James said in a low voice.  His threat made you shake, trembling, hand taking his extended one. 

There was no hope of escaping the lion's den once you had stepped inside.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James held Y/n’s hand tightly, making sure she wouldn’t escape as he took her to his room. He thrusts her towards the bed, “ If you love me, you’ll never do that again. Understand?” he warns, removing his tie. 

Y/n backed away until her back hit the headboard. The muscular man graded her leg and pulled her under him. 

She began to beg him to let her go, that she would stay and not run away. He shoves his tie in your pretty plump lips. 

Only allowing for moans and whines to filter through. 

He has you caged in between his meaty arms, his gaze held a lustful and hungry glint to them. 

Tears fell as if rain from your eyes, “ Don’t cry, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” he kisses your tears.

Your tears felt like acid to his skin. He much rather you cry from pleasure. With his free hand, he removed his belt, tying your hands with them as if they were handcuffs. 

He rose and looked at your posed figure, his legs trapped by your hips, so you couldn’t escape from his embrace. 

He was going to make you feel better, make you see the high heavens. He began to worship your being kissing every scar, stretch mark, and so on. Any imperfection to you was perfection, a divine perfection to him.

Created by a higher being to be held, kissed, bitten, and claimed. 

He hiked your leg over his shoulder as he caressed your skin. Leaving kisses and hickeys over the skin. 

His hungry eyes looked at your teary ones, as he bit your leg.

His gaze lowered to your panties as he stared at them in hate like the small piece of clothing was holding your honey captive. 

The small piece of clothing became shredded into pieces when he ripped them. His rightful treasure was now on full display to him and only him.

 His large hand that once held your hip moved to your sex. With his index and middle finger, he spread your fold, groaning at the glittering sight of your slick.

His painfully hard member twitched upon seeing your dripping, aroused flower.

He groans, “ All this honey just for me?” he cups your cunt, feeling how it clenched around nothing.

Without warning, two larger fingers impale you, thrusting at an unforgiving pace. A long whine spills from your lips as you arch at the feeling.

He's hitting every sweet spot and curve inside you. His bulge grows even more at the sound of your watery juices. 

His thumb connects with your sensitive, neglected pearl, making you squirm and try to close your leg.

He slaps your pussy at the defiance, making electric pleasures shot throughout your body and brain. 

Y/n can feel the coil in her stomach tighten. Her hips met his thrust in chase of her own high. 

James speeds up his movements, watching as your eyes cross when he hits that spot.

Your walls begin to constrict his fingers, telling him that you're close. He bites the meat of your leg, his finger hitting deep inside you. 

Y/n came undone, eyes rolled to the back of her skull, drooling, back arch, and a pornographic moan of pleasure.

Cum covered his veiny fingers and his toned stomach. 

The sight almost made him cum in his pants. But, that milk was saved for his darlin's womb.

James pulled his pants down, allowing his hardened member to slap your sex. Thick and veiny. 

With your cum he gave himself a few pumps. The big man leans forward, his tip kissing your inviting honeyed entrance. 

“ See, you're so wet and sweet for me. You wanted this didn’t you?” he asks, his face flushed. 

His cock began to enter your wet, gummy walls, inch by inch. 

His hips stutter a little, and his body trembles with pleasure. The feeling of your lips sucking him in. 

With one hard thrust, he bottoms out in you. You moan, feeling so full, he begins to hump his manhood against your entrance. 

His almost in a trance, the sound of slick and moans adding to his resolve.

Each furious thrust thrusted her forward in the bed. His tip kissing her womb over and over, you’re moaning and pleas falling on deaf ears.

The makeshift gag swallowed all any sound that was not your monas, the sweet sounds of pleasure he wanted to hear from you. 

Y/n’s leg was still hooked over his shoulder. With his hands, he held her hips in a boa-constricting grip. 

Your overstimulated wall pulsed and twitched, “ Oh, you like that, huh?” he says, still drilling into her like a jackhammer. His hand pressed on the bulge in your small tummy. 

This made your walls tighten and pulse. His words and actions manipulated your dizzy pleasure-filled mind.

“ My pretty darlin’ going to look so beautiful, all swelled up with my child.” he groaned at the thought. Each thrust made your vision sparkle as if stars. 

The all-too-familiar feeling of the tight coil forming in your belly told you that you were close. James's thrust became uncoordinated as he chased that mind-numbing high he was looking for.

“You’ll make a cute mommy.” he moans. He removes your gag, as you beg and cry for him not to, but he crashes his lips against yours. 

He was going to snap you in half with the way he was bending your leg and fucking you at the same time.

The kiss was stymie, adding to the many pleasures you were feeling. Your mind was becoming blank, and you could only think of his dick inside you.

With a final harsh thrust, the coil in your gut snapped like a water gun. squirting over the man's abdomen and your inner thigh. 

James began to convulse, spilling his large fertile load at the feeling of your womb milking him dry. 

You felt so stuffed full and overstimulated. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become a mommy, a slave to his man's cock. James’s load pulsed inside you, making his cum spill from your spent hole.

You will be the perfect cock-sleeve darlin’ for him, your eyes closed as sleep takes over you. a content smile on your face. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

A new 🕳 to hide in 👩‍🦯

Tag list:

@tremendousdinosaurpizza @violetvase

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

©𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢! 𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎. - 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢🩻!

[rottiens]

i... i'm sorry....

i'm thinking about an older stepbro!Megumi now (or stepdad dealer's choice lol)... like maybe a 20-25yo reader w 30-35yo Megumi who's desperately trying not to follow in his father's footsteps. but we all know the fushiguro bloodline is slutty as hell...

you're his stepsis. of course you're off limits. you're cute, maybe even his type if he's willing to admit it, but you're off limits. plus with the age difference, y'know, it'd be kinda weird and fucked up. but still you're so cute he can't handle it sometimes. but of course these feelings get bottled up and he's generally pretty normal. maybe quiet and reserved if anything but the two of you do get along pretty well.

maybe it's weird for you to hang out with a guy so much older than you but you enjoy his company and even just hanging out and playing video games with him at his apartment is fun. plus, he lives closer to the city than your parents so when you go out late with your friends, you can crash on his couch. you feel safe with him.

it was after one of these late nights with your friends you stumble back to his apartment. he's usually up late playing video games, so you just start babbling and telling him about your evening. you flop down on the couch with your head on his lap. he'd push you off but you're drunk and tired and you kinda just fall asleep after a couple of minutes.

you're snoring a little, mouth open, nearly drooling on his cock. he's frozen in place, eyes flitting across the exposed skin from your skimpy outfit. his hand accidentally brushes against you as he pulls a blanket over you, but you don't stir. his game is entirely forgotten as his fingers slide under the blanket, following the contours of your curves.

you snore again, snapping him out of whatever lustful haze had him touching you like this. he wasn't like his father. you were off limits. you trusted him and he wouldn't abuse that trust. still, the annoying snoring had to stop.

"shut up, stupid." he mumbled with a soft smile, sticking his fingers in your mouth. he didn't expect your lips to wrap around them, lazily sucking with a soft moan. his cock twitched against the side of your face. he wasn't like his father, he repeated to himself as he wondered if you'd suck anything he put in your mouth right now...

35 years old megumi immediately gives me a boner. sorry but imagining him as muscular, a bit more grown up and bigger, with a pronounced jaw and more like his father makes me drool a little bit.

you're so evil for that ending. and i think megumi wouldn't do it, not because he doesn't want to, but because his desire to prove to himself that he is not his father's equal is much stronger than the erection he has right now. yeah, he plays a little with your tongue, yeah he lets you suck them a little while he wonders what is going on in his head but gets them out of you before he can do something he will regret.

he gets up from the couch and goes straight to the bathroom. he closes the door with a bang and locks it. and with the same hand full of your saliva he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off under the cold shower water.

[pekejscatbed]

I wanna fuck you like an animal | König x GN! AFAB! Reader

Info/Warnings:

This is a r*pe fic. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Read at your own risk.

fanfic masterlist

———

König can't help himself, not when you look so small next to him, his tall figure towering over you; the size difference drives him crazy, makes him ache with want and need and pleasure as he fucks into his hand in the middle of the night, thoughts of you- of how tiny you are compared to him- running through his mind, images of you caged under him as he fucks into you while you scream at him and beg him to stop as you sob flash in his mind. He just can't help himself, he really can't, and he knows you'll understand- you just have to!- so he sneaks into your tent one night, knowing you'll be sound asleep by now (Konig's been watching- stalking- you for a while now, memorizing your schedule in wait of this night, in wait of the night when he'll finally make his fantasies a reality and ask- force- you to be his).

The Austrian waits until everyone is asleep, and the camp site is quiet, waits until he knows you're asleep, then unzips his tent to sneak off to yours, where he slowly unzips yours and steps in, closing it behind him.

He towers over your sleeping figure, eyes wide with the look of a wild animal and grinning underneath his mask, his teeth bared as drool runs past his lips and down his chin as he takes in your unconscious body; you're on your side in your cot, one arm under your head for extra cushion, the other held against your chest, and your legs on top of one another. You wear a white wife beater tank and a pair of grey sweats, like most of the other recruits do, but the outfit just looks so much better on you than it does anyone else. A low, guttural growl escapes his lips.

König slowly turns you over onto your back, careful not to wake you- not yet. He brings a hand to your face, long, thick fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face, thumb grazing over your pretty- oh, so pretty- lips (König has to stop the whine that threatens to escape his lips as he imagines your lips around his long, thick cock, your cheeks hollowed and spit running down your chin as he thrusts into your mouth, making you choke and gag as tears gather in your gorgeous eyes and a mixture of bile and stomach acid rises up in the back of your throat).

His hands makes their way down your throat, resisting the urge to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, then down your chest, lightly grazing your nipples through your tank top, and down your stomach- oh, how he wants to rest his head on your soft skin, using your tummy as a pillow while he naps after a long day on the field-, until he reaches the waist band of your sweats. König slowly pulls your pants down past your thighs, lifting your hips as gently as possible to make the task easier, then does the same with your underwear, exposing your cunt to the cool night air; you shiver lightly in your sleep and König pauses, eyes trained on your face for any sign of consciousness (not that it would matter if you woke up now instead of later, as he can easily overpower you with just his size alone, though it would take away from his fun). When he finds nothing, he looks back between your legs, watching as your pussy flutters ever so slightly due to the cold and licks his lips under his makeshift t-shirt mask, his cock stiffening in his pants.

He pulls apart your pussy lips with one hand, using the other to gently swipe over your clit with his gloved fingers, then prod at your hole; you aren't wet, and his finger meets resistance, so König lifts his mask up past his lips to spit on your cunt, gathering it up with his thick fingers and smearing his saliva over your entrance, coating his glove in the process. He prods at your entrance again, still met with resistance, but his finger slips in this time, and he slowly works his thick digit in and out of your cunt, then adds another, now scissoring you open. Your unconscious body begins to react to König's protrusion, slick slowly building between your legs and coating the gloved fingers inside you, making it easier for Konig to slide his digits in, out, in, out.

Konig pushes his long fingers farther inside you until he's knuckles deep, and you shift again, a quite moan slipping past your lips. The man looks up at your face to see you still sleeping and smirks under his mask, pulling his fingers back slightly, then pushing them forward again; his grin widens when you moan again, and he's tempted to take you like this, to finger you to completion, but he won't, not now, at least. No, he wants you to cum on his cock, wants you to wake up to his cock inside you as he pumps you full of his own release and your bodies become one.

He pulls his fingers out of you, watching as your pussy tries to pull his thick digits back in, squeezing around nothing; König smacks at your cunt and your pussy flutters in response, and you whine in your sleep, the sound heavenly to König, who feels his cock throb in his pants, restrained by the fabric of his boxers. He grabs at your ankles, sliding your body down your cot until your legs dangle off the edge, and he fully removes your pants and underwear, throwing them to the ground (he wonders how you haven't woken up yet, but he's grateful, happy to play with your sleeping figure for a little while longer). Then he quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down the fly of his pants, tugging both his pants and boxers down to his thighs. König once again lifts his mask, this time spitting into his gloved hand and jerking his cock a few times, then he spits onto your cunt once more. He rests his free hand on your lower abdomen, palm open, and uses his thumb to circle your clit; with his other hand still around his dick, he positions himself at your entrance, slowly sinking his thick cock into your wet pussy. It takes a bit of effort, as he's girthy, more so than his fingers, and he didn't spend long stretching you, but it's what he wants, he wants to split you open on his cock and he wants it to hurt, wants the pain to make your cunt burn before it turns into pleasure.

The Austrian pushes the tip of his dick inside you, not stopping when he feels you begin to stir, instead forcing himself all the way in, in one quick thrust, his heavy balls slapping against the flesh of your ass cheeks. König groans as you squeeze around him, moving his huge hands to grip at your waist like you're nothing but a doll, your name rolling off of his lips. He pulls out slowly, reveling in the way his cock drags against your walls, stopping when his tip catches at your entrance, then pushes back in, not wasting anytime in setting up a brutal pace. He wants to wreck you, wants to ruin you in your sleep until you wake up, wants to watch the look of recognition flash of your eyes as you realize what's happening, realize what your Colonel is doing to you, fucking into you like an animal- like a monster- and knowing that you can't do anything about it but scream and cry because König is so much bigger than you, taller and stronger than you have ever been, and fighting against his harsh grasp would do nothing to save you from the man- monster- above you.

Under him, your body jolts and you start to wake, eyes slowly opening as an incoherent murmur leaves your mouth; your vision is blurry, and your mind is fuzzy, you don't register what's going on, assuming you're just having an extremely erotic and incredibly real feeling dream. That feeling doesn't last long, though, because the pain between your legs is all too real, stinging and burning with every thrust of the person above you, and all too real is the feeling of blood sliding down your ripped entrance and dripping down your ass, too. Suddenly you're fully awake, eyes shooting open, wide with panic, and your mouth opens in a scream that doesn't last even a fraction of a second before a hand much, much larger than your own is slapped over your mouth, covering the full lower half of your face, leaving only your teary, frantic eyes visible as the recognition finally kicks in and you realize just who that t-shirt made mask belongs to and the tears start to fall.

A deep moan dances past König's lips as you struggle against him, scratching and kicking at him the best you can in this position, fighting with all your energy to escape his towering figure and his powerful strength- to escape him- your wasted efforts doing nothing except turn the man above you on even more. König thrusts into you at an animalistic pace, hips snapping forward so harshly that the movement jostles your whole body; his thrusts are deep, too, and you can feel him abuse your cervix with each slide in, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. And you can, because König moves the hand bruising your side to your stomach, pushing down on the bulge in your belly to feel the outline of his cock inside you. The feeling is enough to make you cum, your body betraying you in your weakest moment, and the sight enough to make König cum, you squirting around his cock as he stills and shoots his seed directly into your womb. You cry as you orgasm, tears and snot streaming down your face as your body convulses around König's dick.

König removes the hand from your mouth to grip your jaw, digging his fingers into your cheeks to force you to open your mouth; he lifts his mask to his nose, revealing the sickening grin on his lips, and spits directly into your open mouth, kissing you right after and shoving his tongue in your mouth. As he kisses you, he moves his hand to your neck, squeezing so hard that you can no longer breathe, and when your vision begins to fade, and your eyes start to close— he lets go. You gasp for breath, sobbing harder than you ever have in your life as snot and tears stream down your face and run down your chin, some of the mix falling past your lips and into your mouth, and König takes the opportunity to shove his fingers down your throat, making you choke once more. He begins to move his hips again, fucking into your cunt as you gag on his thick fingers, bile rising up in your throat; he pushes his digits farther down your throat, until you puke around his fingers, and only then does he remove his hand from your mouth, grabbing at your chest before wiping his fingers on your shirt as vomit spews past your lips and dripples down your chin, mixing with the salty tears and mucus already accumulating on your skin.

The man above you groans, continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace despite the smell of vomit staining the air. He wants to fill you with his release until your stomach inflates, wants you to breed you until you have no choice but to birth his kids, wants to impregnate you and see the shame in your pretty eyes as you walk around with his offspring growing inside you. And he wants to make you cum as he takes you, wants you to cum on his cock as he shoots his kids inside you; he's determined to make you cum again and again and again. And he does, he makes you orgasm one after another without stopping, makes you reach a constant release until you're cumming dry and your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes limp as you lose conscious, passing out in the arms of the monster above who still doesn't stop, fucking your completely limp body like a ragdoll until he's releasing inside you again, filling you up so much that a mix of his cum and yours drips out of your abused hole despite his cock still sheathed deep inside of you.

When König finally pulls out, cum flows out of your weeping cunt, mixing with the blood from your torn skin, leaving a puddle of white and red between your legs and under your ass. He whines at the sight, giving your pussy another harsh slap before lifting his mask and dropping to his knees to shove his tongue inside your cunt, lapping at the mess of sticky white as his nose rubs against your sore clit. He stays there, eating you out and drinking in your juices until your legs spasm around his head in another dry orgasm despite your unconsciousness, and he has to hold your legs apart with his massive hands so you don't crush his skull with your thighs, though if this was how König were to die, between your legs after forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you all the while stuffing your cunt full of his seed, he finds he wouldn't mind.

(When you awake the next morning, your Colonel is gone, but the traces of last night, of what he's done to you, are still there; a mix of dried tears and snot and puke stick to your face and neck, and you can feel the crusting of left over cum on your ass and on the outside of your cunt, and your body is so, so sore, pain taking over your system as you begin to cry once again. Memories of last night flash in your mind like strobe lights, and you swear you can still feel his hands on you, can still feel his length inside you, and your chest heaves up and down as your breath becomes shallow and erratic, hyperventilating until your vision becomes spotty and your mind shuts off as you pass out once more.)