Cw Noncon - Tumblr Posts

kinktober - day 03 - public sex

ghost x f!reader | 2.4k words cw: noncon/rape, violent threats, spit, degradation, improvised gag, unnegotiated and vague allusion breeding kink, abduction a/n: if anyone is better acquainted with the vw camper vans, no you’re not (please don’t call me on details, ty) summary: two birds, one stone. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

A knock at the door mid-saxophone solo wrenches you out of the 1980s.

It’s Lost Boys night at the drive-in, one of your favorite films at one of your favorite places. To be interrupted, your knee-jerk reaction is what does this asshole want—

Except, said asshole looms over your door, clearing your car by almost a foot, treating you to a view of a broad torso in a hi-vis vest. Ducking down, your frown gives way to confusion. It’s the security guy who waved you into this very ‘spot’ not ten minutes ago. You had to beg him to let you turn into the drive-in, frantically explaining that work kept you late, causing you to arrive just as the movie started.

“Lot’s full.”

“That can’t be right, I-I have a ticket! Please?”

(If you’d dipped a little low to give him a good view of your cleavage, that was neither here nor there.)

He’d given you a long look, sighed, and then guided your puttering van into a relatively flat space by the dumpsters beyond the final row of cars. When you stuck your head out to thank him, he muttered something about tardiness. 

It appears he still has a bone to pick with you.

You crank the window down, one eye still on the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Just wonderin’, that a ‘75 Volkswagen camper?”

“It’s an ‘82 T3 Westfalia,” You rattle off. “You a collector? ‘Cause The Bluebird’s not for sale. She was my dad’s, so...”

“I’m not. Is it the model with the foldin' table?”

Oh, so he’s just another nosy enthusiast. Good thing you have the rundown memorized from years of strangers walking up to play twenty questions.

“Yeah,” you say with a little sigh, eyes still on the movie. “Everything’s original except for the seat fabric.”

“Mind if I pop in for a look? My dad 'ad one too, before 'e passed.”

Great. Now you have something in common. You unlock the doors and furiously gesture for him to take a peek. 

“Yeah, yeah, climb in. Just keep it quiet, I love this movie.”

“Quiet’s the goal, sweet'eart.”

Cripes.

You listen to him inspect the cupboards and examine the curtains your dad installed years ago. True to his word, the security guard’s silent. When the door shuts, you automatically turn to ask if it is anything like his dad’s model, but nobody’s outside the van. It’s like he vanished into—

Something cold touches your cheek.

“You scream, and I’ll ruin daddy’s ’ard work.”

Your eyes strain in their sockets to glimpse the tip of something black poking into your flesh, and your imagination fills in the rest. Your mouth dries, killing the screaming trapped at the base of your throat. You nod mechanically.

“Good girl. Now, give me the keys then keep your ‘ands where I can see ‘em.”

Sucking in a panicked breath, you slowly reach for the keys and blindly hand them over your shoulder. They disappear with a faint jingle.

“P-Please. You can have her. I’ll–I’ll get out, sit on the ground quietly, and you can drive off. I won’t fight o-or make a scene–“

“You won’t do either of those things, Blue,” he chuckles before stroking your temple with the tip of his gun. “Now. Turn the radio up so you can listen to your movie, then climb back here, carefully.”

You hesitate. Does he mean…?

“Between the seats. C’mon.”

Oh god.

“I’m not a patient man.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You wheeze. You turn up the radio until it drowns out your thundering heartbeat and clumsily scramble into the back. You nearly trip, eyes widening to see that in his explorations, he’s converted the back seat into the sleeping configuration. He’s made the bed. 

He stands hunched in the narrow gap between the bed and the driver’s seat. Crammed into a space meant for a man seemingly half his size. The bed isn’t the only thing he’s changed, you notice. Gone is the medical mask. In its place is a crude, painted balaclava. It makes him look all the more terrifying as if he needs the boost to his image.

He gestures at your chest as you hover awkwardly behind the passenger seat, hands raised, trying not to fall onto the bed in the cramped space.

“Clothes off. Won’t say it twice this time, so get a move on. Sit if ya need to, but not a fuckin’ word.”

Tears spring to your eyes. Your cheeks burn as you comply, a sob catching in your throat when you glimpse him unbuckling his belt. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking happening. The fact it is happening at the drive-in, in the van, is a double whammy. The stranger’s going to obliterate two of your safe spots in one go.

He growls when you stand there in your bra and panties, hands clasping awkwardly at your front. 

“You stupid? Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Your bra tumbles down your shaking arms, and you kick it next to your clothes. As for your panties—he snatches them out of your hands before you can toss them. He brings them to his face, mashing them into the fabric covering his nose, and jerks his head in a silent but clear order.

He practically purrs when you climb onto the cheap, lumpy makeshift mattress. The upholstery is clean, you see to its maintenance, but it scratches at your palms and knees as you crawl.

“Look at that arse. Give it a wiggle, Blue.”

With the gun and his casual threat of ruining the interior with your interior, you pathetically comply. He belly laughs, louder than the revving of the motorcycles on screen. You try to ignore it, focusing on the interior handle of the van’s rear latch that’s a shuffle away. But as soon as you reach for it, a hand the width of a shovel wraps around your ankle and yanks.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” He growls, easily overpowering your squirming, sobbing self. 

The fight you put up, if you could call it that, feeds the growing shame in your gut. It ends as quick as it began, with your panties jammed behind your teeth and wrists pinned. He hovers, breathing rough through his mask. He releases your hands with a cautionary squeeze.

“Try that again, and you’ll be joinin' your dad tonight. Simple enough?”

You nod so fast you crick your neck, tonguing fabric. 

With a patronizing pat to your cheek, he sits on his knees, head ducked and back curved, touching the roof. “That’s more like it.” His eyes linger on yours, assessing, then drop to your body, a soft, perverse laugh rattling out. Hedged with a smoker’s cough. 

It’s as surreal as the movie. Like you’ve been sucked beyond the silver screen. One minute, simply watching, the next, part of the nightmare.

Ghost, he tells you between sharp nips and bites to your tits, is what you’ll call him when you plead, beg, and whine. And that’s what you do, trading breaths for muffled whimpers as he paws at your belly, hips—whatever he can reach, which is everything. He leaves indentations of his teeth all the way down your body, stinging and raw.

“Nice cunt you’ve got ‘ere,” Ghost grins as if complimenting the upholstery or fixtures. He rolls and tucks his mask, revealing a pale chin and thin lips. You catch a couple of old, gnarly scars in the light filtering through the windshield. A knitted cleft. Helpful detail to identify him later, your hysterical mind notes. His lips twitch as he pries your legs open. “She’s fuckin’ soaked. Playin’ rough do it for you?”

Blunt thumbs rub circles into the soft skin at the crux of your inner thighs, teasing and pulling you open. He spits a large glob directly onto your hole. Either you’re not as soaked as he said, or worse, you think, he’s planting yet another little flag on your body. He plays with you for a moment, unskillfully toying with your clit, and stroking himself, spreading the drool from his leaking cock. He slaps the heft of it once, twice—then without further preamble, begins to shove his way in.

You can’t stop your hands from flying up to claw at his arms, your mouth falling further open in a silent scream, cotton tickling the back of your throat. The stretch is immense, and you feel like a bug the way your legs instinctively try to close, bracketing his broad form and pressing into his sides, from how you feel squashed as he bottoms out with a throaty groan.

Ghost rocks his hips to take whatever room’s left and chuckles at your wide eyes, glassed over with unshed tears. You stare up at the dark pits above, glinting with satisfaction. 

“Go ahead and cry. Been wonderin’ what you’d look like since you got all blubbery at the entry.” He picks up the pace and successfully knocks your tears loose as he fucks you hard into the mattress. The whole van must be rocking on its suspension, giving you a little hope a fellow movie-goer or an employee will investigate and scare him off. But there’s no way he doesn’t notice the sway of the van. He must not care.

“Please,” Ghost mocks. “Please, I ‘ave a ticket! It’s my stupid job and my stupid manager,” he laughs meanly, smacking into you to punctuate his speech. “These stupid ‘ours and stupid customers.” You wince at hearing your near-hysteric ranting and begging parroted back at you. “Ever think about what all those got in common? Ever think it’s you who might be stupid, Blue?”

He slips a hand back to your clit, thumbing it in tight circles broken by occasional flicks, coaxing a reluctant yet responsive heat like a skittish animal. His mask lifts more with a big smirk and a mean laugh as you choke around the gag, sobbing. 

“After all, you did let a strange man into your car.”

Your fingers dig into his arms but do nothing. He drops his weight, snakes his arm under your head, and ruts. His rubbing hurts. He uses way too much pressure than you normally like and pinches, muttering filthy orders into your ear. He kisses your drooling mouth and licks your cheeks. 

“C’mon, give me it, come on my cock. Want you nice and tight f’me, need you to keep it all inside.”

The inevitably of him finishing inside you chases another wail from your mouth. He finally slots his own over it, burrowing his tongue inside to dig around. You can barely breathe as he fucks you through whatever it is he’s doing. Your eyes spin and bounce off the fogged windows. Surely, any minute now, someone will interrupt, someone will save you. They’ll throw away their trash and hear your muted shrieking. 

And, as if summoned by thought alone, the beam of a flashlight bounces off the rear windows. Ghost pauses his mouth before his hips, slowing to a leisurely roll. He lifts his upper half to stare out the window as the light passes over the glass again. You watch, heartbeat borderline painful, and squeak when he raises his hand. His face snaps to you.

“Not a word.” He warns.

Ghost wipes the mist from the glass and his lip curls. 

“Just a kid.” A hand migrates over your mouth and presses, apparently not trusting you even with your underwear half-lodged behind your teeth. His other hand reaches and unlatches the window. You tense so hard in panic that he hisses and squeezes your cheeks with a second pointed look. He cranks the window open enough that surely his masked face is visible outside.

“Didn’t your mum teach you it’s not polite to stare?”

A pitchy, crackling voice of what sounds like a teenager responds. Fuck. You can hear him pretty clearly, even over the radio. He must be only a foot away. 

“I-I-I….W-Whatever it is you’re doing, sir, you can’t–”

“I’m enjoyin’ the show. At least I’m tryin’, but ‘ere’s some whelp stickin’ his nose in my business.” His voice is cruel, mocking. “I suggest you go back to your booth and forget about me. I can leave an impression if you’d like, but you like solid foods, yeah?” 

There’s a choked, scared sound that cuts through the film audio. It makes Ghost huff and drive deeper into your cunt, making you bite through cotton as his cockhead glances sharply into your cervix.

“Yes, sir. Sorry sir.” By the sound of his retreating footsteps, the kid’s power-walking away.

Ghost shuts and locks the window, muttering, and returns his attention to you. He gives you a toothy grin, flashing a silver cap on a rear molar. 

“Now, where was I?” 

A heartbeat passes before he’s back to fucking you mercilessly, tongue jamming into your mouth yet again.

He ignores the rake of your nails when you shove your hands up his shirt to find skin to ruin, and merely grunts as he lifts his head. Your underwear slides out of your mouth in his teeth, damp and wrinkled. He spits them out beside your head, then returns, wetting your dry tongue with his own.

Ghost swallows your shrill cry as you come and endures your kicking legs while flames as hot as hellfire sear you to the bone beneath him. The train whistle and screams pumping through the van’s speakers smother the rest of your bawling. You dangle above the abyss, spent.

It doesn’t take long for his orgasm to follow. Panting into your mouth, blown pupils fixed to yours, mouth screwed up in a sneer. He barely makes a sound as he loses his rhythm and floods your cunt. 

He withdraws after a brief eternity and kisses you. Exhausted, overwhelmed, and aching, you slip unconscious. Lost.

When you stir, you find yourself cuffed to the wall of the van, wearing only a hi-vis vest. It chafes your nipples as the van bounces along. Blinking, you groggily moan in pain and try to compute what it is you’re seeing through the lace curtains. Green. Patches of gray and white. Mountains. But the closest range is…

Your eyes whip up front, where Ghost fiddles with the dial. He pauses, registering your movement in the corner of his eye, and meets your gaze in the rearview. 

“Made a collector out of me, Bluebird.”

sleeping beauty [soapgaz x reader]

summary: soap and gaz strike the jackpot. you end up being on the unlucky end of the draw. so is it a good thing that you don't know it?

pairing: soapgaz x f!reader

warnings: noncon, smut, oral (f), fingering, masturbation (m), piv, anal fingering, anal sex, soapgaz being absolute fiends, somno, throuple, etc yada yada yada.

notes: mind the tags. based on this thot that just never leaves me in peace. also @mikichko's drabble spawned these filthy thots so say thank you Kiko🍃 btw i'm that anon who said that fic got me wet

the two of them stopping dead in their tracks when they notice that someone's home because this wasn't part of the fucking plan. they were just gonna grab a few things and go but the little bird returned to her nest sooner from her girl's trip and they didn't notice? they should change course and get out while they still can.

but—

"gaz." soap taps his arm. "take a look at this."

he picks up the bottle of pills. the name written in small letters. sedatives.

which means their plan is back in motion because no matter how much noise they make, you won't wake up.

gaz doesn't know why he gravitates towards you. his hand softly caressing your cheek as he admires your peaceful expression.

"she's out cold." he muses.

soap ends up on the other side of the bed to stare at you. "well, ain't she a bonnie lass..."

he's not wrong. they pull down the blanket to get a better look at you and both of them inhale sharply.

your tits are outlined by the dark silk you're wearing. nipples pebbling due to the cold air seeping in through the open window. your nightdress had ridden up to show a pair of pretty panties snug on your ass.

"fuck..." what a vision you are.

surely, they can take one more souvenir from you.

one man carefully lifts your hips while the other slips off your panties and immediately brings them to his nose while palming himself. "god, fuck, she smells so good."

gaz turns his head back to you and realizes that's a grave mistake. the sight that greets him sends him straight down the rabbit hole. your legs are parted. night dress up to your thighs. he knows you're now bare under there. nothing underneath. naked. vulnerable.

his body moves before his mind even registers. he plants a knee on the bed, hands spreading your legs and pushing up the silk to your hips. his mouth waters when he finally sees your pussy.

they weren't supposed to. truly. this wasn't part of the plan. but gaz's tongue swipes through your cunt and it all goes downhill from there. your scent goes to his head almost immediately and clouds any coherent thought he had. his nose presses snugly against your clit as he scissors two fingers inside you until your pussy starts to weep and contract.

soap pushes him to the side, muttering something about having a turn to properly taste you and both of them find themselves taking turns licking your cunt until she's wet and pulsing around their fingers.

it's soap who gets the bright idea to undo gaz's zipper and start jerking him off while you're getting eaten out by the latter. his tongue swirling heavily around your bud, wet and needy and eager to draw out your essence.

you may not be awake but you're definitely somehow aware of what they're doing to you. gaz drags his fingers in and out of you, slowly opening you up, slowly taking you apart. your slick coats his digits until they're shiny and you start to clench around them.

the small noise you make when you cum freezes both of of them. they watch him awe as your body spasms under the weight of your pleasure, your pussy blossoming under his touch, unaware of the danger you're in.

"she didn't..." gaz speaks first, quietly, still in shock from what he just witnessed.

"aye, i think she did." soap adds next to him. a silent moment passes before he smirks, "wanna try again just tae make sure?"

he knows gaz wants to. the man's cock pulses thickly in his hands as he slowly starts stroking him again.

gaz groans but eventually pries soap's hands off of him. he tucks his cock back in his pants and plants a wet kiss on soap's lips. one of them has to be rational. they've already spent too much time here. "we're already late. we have to go."

oh, but they're not gone for long. they stake out your apartment a few days later. scoping you out, watching you. one sucking the other off while the other describes what they'd like to do to you. soap wants to fuck you over the counter. that little apron you wear stays on while he batters your pussy until your hips are bruised. gaz wants to take you on the couch. face down, ass up while you scream into the cushions.

they know you've taken your pills and they wait impatiently. both of them damn near salivating at the thought of getting their hands on you again. once you're down and out, they pop open your window and slip into your place.

this time, they do a little more than eat you out.

soap jerks his cock near your breasts now exposed after he pulled down the front of your nightgown. gaz rubs the tip of his cockhead through your folds with a heavy curse under his breath when he grazes your swollen clit. his breath caught in his lungs as he watches the way your cunt blossoms with slick, reacting to him the way he silently demands.

this is so wrong.

so so wrong—

"fuck her." soap growls while furiously fisting his cock above the rise and fall of your exposed breasts.

"no." comes gaz's immediate gravel voice. he glares at the Scot, nearly wishing death upon him for such a stupid idea. "and don't you dare leave any cum on her tits, otherwise we'll both get caught."

"just the tip, then." soap counters, unbothered by the threat. gaz is quiet for a minute. "c'mon... ye know ye want to."

it's bad enough that they're already toeing the line. no amount of soap's incessant jeering could get him to cross it but... but maybe...

he taps his cock, hot and heavy between your pussy lips and it makes those nasty wet noises that made them both groan out loud. the kind of sounds that are too obscene to speak of in polite conversation. soap urges him to get on with it. gaz finally notches the tip right at your opening and rubs your clit while giving a few shallow thrusts. maybe that'll be enough.

that alone is enough to warrant a small mewl out of you that halts both of their movements. you don't move. you don't wake. but they heard it. they see your expression pinching in your sleep. you're enjoying this. gaz inhales deeply and resumes his short thrusts.

"poor sweet thing." soap gripes, amused as he reaches to squeeze and pluck your hardened nipple. "she must be close."

your airy sigh is heard and it doesn't frighten them as much this time. in fact, it encourages them. soap eagerly rolls his thumb on your nipple while muttering filth under his breath.

"tha's it. just like tha..." he moans and it's filthy, it sends goosebumps up gaz's arms. "can ye cum jus' from tha', bonnie? i bet ye can."

to gaz's surprise, soap leans away from you all of a sudden and came to stand behind him. a hand reaches around him to slip two fingers inside your weeping slit, pumping in and out to draw out more of your slick. soap then uses it to rub his own shaft and goes back for more.

soon, gaz shudders as feels his ass being spread and fingers nudging his hole. he lets out a loud moan when a finger slips in. soap's mouth sucks a bruise onto his skin as his fingers press deeper inside and adds another one, moving slowly moving them in and out.

gaz stays still and makes the mistake of letting soap replace those deft fingers with his cock instead. because soap punches his hips a little too fast that it pushed gaz further into you with a groan.

the first time made him hiss. the second one a little too sharp for it not to be an accident, the momentum driving him deeper inside your pussy.

"soap-" gaz grunts sharply, trying to push back against him. he only manages to sink soap's shaft deeper inside his tight hole. he glares at the grinning Scot. "quit it."

soap retaliates by snapping his hips. harder this time. the impact of it nearly sends gaz falling on top of you as he plants his hands on either side of your head and catches himself but he feels it. his cock slipping deeper, halfway inside you, in fact.

your pussy instinctively sucks him in, fluttering and welcoming him with a pulsing heat that goes straight to his head. a soft mewl slips from your pretty lips, your brows furrowing deeply.

"ye're in too deep." he growls lowly, dragging his hand under gaz's shirt and pressing against his chest, his stomach as he rocks back and forth. "ye have tae fuck her now."

he's not wrong. it's too late to stop now. he's had a taste, a glimpse of how good it can be. there's no trying to rationalize a quick escape again, not like last time. there's no going back now.

gaz pushes your leg up until it's thrown over his shoulder while the other is pinned to the bed and he sinks in as deep as he can, right down to the hilt. you're limp. pliant under their weight. your body rocking up and down with each heavy thrust, a soft sigh escaping your lips each time. soap presses himself flush against his ass and they work in tandem, forming a rhythm that spawns breathy moans out of you.

"listen." gaz pants. "hear that?"

the squelching sounds of your cunt, the noises rising from your throat. you were flourishing, despite the deep hold your slumber had you in.

"she fucking wants this." soap reaches for your bare tit and squeezes without missing a beat.

gaz grunts in response, adding, "look at her. she's beggin' for it."

you are. you're drenched and you're squeezing his shaft too tightly not to think otherwise. you want this. you need this. badly. you're so close, they can both practically taste it. your moans become louder and more frequent with each push and pull from both of them, drawing them closer and closer to their end as well as yours.

gaz's thumb cards through your folds, collecting the wetness gathered there and rubbing tight little circles around your swollen clit. your hiccup prompts soap's pace to go faster and harder, pushing you all to the very edge.

"cum inside her." soap rasps so suddenly, the thought makes gaz's head spin as he shakes his head.

"we don't know if she's on-"

"if ye won't breed that cunt, i will." there was a moment of silence on gaz's end with only the salacious noises in the air. "cum inside. i'll lick it off right after, she won't know-"

soap's cut off by your sudden cry and just like that, the dominos fall in place. gaz's hips stutter with a sharp groan, cock sputtering ropes of cum deep inside your cunt. and soap follows just as quickly, his voice grating through the atmosphere as he cums inside his lover. all three of you locked in a hazy cycle of destructive pleasure that brought you all to the end.

soap made good on his promise and bent down to lick the soaking mess between your thighs once gaz moved out of the way and laid next to you. slurping up every bit of cum that oozed out of your pretty pussy like he was made for it.

"you're a terrible influence, mactavish." he muses softly while admiring your sleeping form. still in disbelief that you slept through that. whatever medication you're on his strong.

"aye." soap kisses him, sliding his tongue in his mouth. "but ye love me for it."

unbeknownst to you, that was far from the last time they came to visit.

i... i have no words.

banners by @cafekitsune and @vase-of-lilies

do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked.

offer a note to the picklejar

throne of a sinner

pairing : yandere king! jungkook x servant! reader

summary : The people of the palace have been waiting for the king to choose his ideal queen. However, the fact that you approved of this as much as the others perplexed and angered him. So he proved how much he desired you to be his queen; no one would refuse you the throne, right? with your stomach growing with his child.

warnings : yandere themes, explicit smut, non con/dub con, infidelity?, innocent! reader, reader can’t speak due to child trauma, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, impregnation, slight age gap, manipulation, mention of murder and blood, somnophilia, drugging, pregnancy symptoms.

word count : 8k

The sun lowering, heralding the advent of darkness. stealing the light from you, your shaky arms almost giving up from the constant hard work of doing the laundry.  When the sun had softly slipped away, you’d always fasten your work. The night isn’t for you. 

You aren’t terrified of the darkness nor the creepy aura it exudes. When you were a kid, it was always enthralling and comforting to you. The birds noisily chirping, the stars dancing in the sky—it was all beautiful, until it was tarnished. 

Keep reading

🌹

CW for heavily implied noncon

"I made whumpee feel good. I gave them the attention they deserve." Whumper crouched lower, gripping Caretaker by the chin.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Can you smell them on my breath, Caretaker? Or rather-" Whumper leaned in and kissed them forcefully, "taste them~?"

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

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

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

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

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

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

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

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

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

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

"You didn't look interested.” 

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

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

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

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

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

You scoff. 

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

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

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

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

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

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

Are you that predictable?  

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

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

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

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

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

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

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

—---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?”

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

“What do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” he says.

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

------

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

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

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

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

NEXT: PART 3

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

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

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

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

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

🫣

yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part two]

warnings: implied infidelity, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity, non consensual surveillance.

There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption.

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Hey guys, and welcome to part two of my new original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa.

This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project and @impeakcharacterdesign for being my beta-reader for the final draft.

I definitely was not expecting such positive feedback on the first part in less than a week, so thank you all for reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts on it, they really made some of my more stressful days in the medical field a little brighter :)

Also, if the lofi vibes nor are the clothes written in here aren’t your thing, feel free to insert whatever is your preferred interior theme and fashion/clothing style.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the drama being unfolded on the stage.

Part one

Yeo Jung-Hwa was unhappy with the series of events that had occurred at the office. Hyueng Mun-Hee had bursted into his office with tears streaming down her bright red face, sobbing about how she cannot stand being bullied by the team manager of her department any longer. Who was the team manager?

You. His fiancee. The woman he must marry. A promise between his father and yours that would be beneficial to everyone involved - everyone except him. Wasn’t he entitled to experience pure joy of being loved and in love? To be with someone who wasn’t tiresome and annoyed him all the time? 

Meeting Hyeung Mun-Hee had felt like seeking the sky for the first time. She was a breath of fresh air to his stifling world. Hearing your most recent act of cruelty towards her had been the final straw. And like any self-respecting CEO, he texted the CFO to look into it before all hell had broken loose. He was receiving emails from the managers of all the other departments left and right, all with the same attachment. Botched up documents. And the one who had sent it was none other than Hyeung Mun-Hee. 

But he didn’t believe it at first.

 He truly thought it was another underhanded trick you had created to get Hyeung Mun-Hee fired because that’s exactly the sort of person you are to him; a dishonest, greedy, arrogant woman whose saving grace as a human being is an excellent work ethic. Once he had calmed his darling, drying her tears with his handkerchief, he marched into the Finance Department and demanded answers from you as soon as he got off of the phone with his panicked CFO. Instead of apologizing for what you did, you explained how Hyeung Mun-Hee made mistakes and you gave her a chance to fix them, but she did not correct them. She completed the required training. She knows how to calculate and make spreadsheets, so why is she pushing her work onto others? 

More importantly, you fixed her mistakes and sent out the correct ones to the other departments. Everything has been resolved, but you wanted Hyeung Mun-Hee to attend the company’s financial seminars to ensure that this embarrassing incident does not happen again. As much as he despised you, every point you made was correct…especially after he retreated to his office and compared the budget allocations on his monitors; Hyeung Mun-Hee’s on the left and yours on the right. The numbers in his darling’s work were completely off, and they could have cost the company hundreds of thousands if the situation hadn’t been resolved. 

He was certain that it was sheer dumb luck. 

Just because you had prevented a major internal disaster from occurring doesn’t mean he would ever look at you as he looked at Hyeung Mun-Hee. In a cesspool filled with hypocrites and liars, his darling is a breath of fresh air. Pure, kind-hearted, committed. Loving. So many qualities you lacked. Yet is it all that it seems? He thought, sitting alone in his home office late at night. If Hyeung Mun-Hee made these mistakes, why didn’t she just admit it instead of coming to me? 

He wanted to believe she was telling the truth, yet the proof is right there on his computer. Like his predecessors, he needed to take on the responsibility of a leader and make sure that the conglomerate’s integrity remained intact. However, he also desired to shelter his darling from the world’s cruelty. Remove her from the department and secretly marry her so that they could be together at last. He is selfish, but he has the right to bask in his own happiness. Unlike some people.

Well, if he can’t outright get the truth from you…then he’ll just have to call in a favor from a certain someone in the underworld. The person in question could set up cameras in your bedroom by slipping in and out of your estate as a groundskeeper or pest control and no one would be the wiser. He could do it for a price and make sure that nothing could be traced back to him. The last thing Yeo Jung-Hwa wanted is to be arrested for illegally filming someone without their consent.

Not when this is an opportunity to sever ties with you completely, once and for all. 

Two days later, he received an email and an attachment. When he clicked on it, four camera angles appeared on his desktop. All of them were in your room. But is this really your room? He expected it to be clean with sleek, wooden floors covered by monochrome carpeting and a walk-in closet filled to the brim with extravagant clothes, shoes, purses that she wouldn’t wear twice in her life. The uninspiring minimalist bougie interior design that is being coveted amongst the upper classes. Your taste was much more comforting. It appeared cozy, with soft lighting and warm blankets. 

Strings of fairy lights strung up across the ceiling.  A full bookshelf was near the bed. The floor was decorated with knitted ottomans and candles.  You lit them all back up as soon as you returned from the company, much later in the evening and when he was in his home office, cradling a cup of black coffee. 

You disappeared into the back for a moment, returning in a two-piece fleece loungewear with mushrooms and plants on them. Something he had expected to see Hyeung Mun-Hee dressed in, but not you. Were you trying to copy his lover’s tastes so he would pay attention to you? How shameless!

When he flipped the audio on the cameras, he expected to hear snide remarks about Hyeung Mun-Hee or see you talking to someone on the phone about sabotaging the new project coming up soon so that you would take all the credit. Instead, you were…shopping on a furniture site?

“I don’t need another bookcase, or it’ll look too cluttered. I can’t get any more potted plants either. I’ve already done enough renovations here to make it cozy and relaxing. What about…a salt thingy? What’s it called?” You typed a few words in the search engine, [Eye Color] irises brightening in realization. “Oh right, Himalayan salt lamp! That’s not a terrible price for this one! And yarn. I need more yarn to complete that gift for Caretaker Lee’s birthday. Speaking of which, I could work on that tonight. Give my eyes a break from staring at screens all damned day.” You scooted over to the edge of the bed, pulling one drawer outward. You then reached inside, removing knitting needles, yarn and dark red clumps of something. You put on headphones and began to knit.  

You, the proud and arrogant Park Seo-yun, was knitting. 

You didn’t move from that spot at all, completely focused on your project when a knock came from the bedroom door. A fleeting, fearful look appeared on your face before you frantically shoved all of your materials back in the drawer, sputtering to wait one moment that you weren’t decent before putting on a bored expression, scrolling through your phone and reclining back like a lazy cat. You told them to come in, and an elderly woman in an apron walked in with a wooden tray filled with assorted foodstuff, carefully setting it down on one of the ottomans. 

“Thank you for preparing my midnight snack, Caretaker Lee. I’m sorry it’s been such an inconvenience while I’m reviewing these documents for tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Caretaker Lee shook her head, walking over to your bed. You scooted over so she wouldn’t fall over the edge (presumably, because this entire situation is bizarre to Yeo Jung-Hwa), and she sat down. She smiled down at you, stroking the top of your head.

“This humble one is honored to serve the Park family, especially the hard-working young miss. It cannot be easy, with the current circumstances. Young miss…please forgive me for speaking outright…but are you certain about going through with this engagement? It seems that you have never spent any time with him outside of working at his conglomerate, and any time he has is spent with someone else.”

Yeo Jung-Hwa expected you to hit her, to punish Caretaker Lee for speaking out of turn and to mind her own business. Instead, you stared at her for a long moment, wide-eyed and mouth  slightly parted…before your lips curled into a melancholy smile, eyes softening. 

“I thank you for your concern, Caretaker Lee. But this is an engagement between my father and the conglomerate’s predecessor. It’s not something that can be broken off so easily with benefits for both parties.” You said. “This is the price to be part of the elite. To sacrifice your happiness for the sake of business.” You then leaned forward, pulling Caretaker Lee into a hug. “It’ll be okay, really. I’m Park Seo-yun. I can take care of myself. And you should be in bed. You’ve got a long drive to see your grandchildren tomorrow morning. Enjoy the weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“But-”

“I’ll bring the tray down the kitchen when I’m finished.”

“Miss-”

“Nope.” 

You then shooed her out of the room, telling Caretaker Lee to send your mother a text as soon as she got to her destination. The old woman smiled sheepishly, wishing you good night and asked you to not stay up too late. Once she was out of the room and the door was closed, you walked back to the bed, shoulders sagging and suddenly looking incredibly tired before you fell face first onto the blankets, legs dangling from the edge. You remained like that for a moment, then picked yourself up and curled up your lower body, grabbing one of the blankets and putting it over your legs. You retrieved your hidden supplies, resuming your knitting, taking five minute breaks in between to eat from the tray. Three more hours passed until you decided to call it a night, blowing out the candles and switching the fairy lights to a lower setting before disappearing into the bathroom. You came back out, grabbed the tray, and vanished. 

This isn’t real. It can’t be real. You are a haughty, greedy woman who could care less about commoners, much less servants. You love shopping at boutiques and only want the best of the best in anything. Even in an arranged marriage. He could never be happy with someone like you. 

But is all of that true? A nasty little voice in the back of Yeo Jung-Hwa’s mind hissed. Those were rumors created by other women who weren’t pleased that they weren’t good enough to marry you. Park Seo-yun is a stranger to you. You never bothered to know nor care to. Why would you when you have someone you love, Hyeung Mun-Hee?

He didn’t need to, and the fact that he wanted to know the truth about you of all people terrified him. He’s not supposed to care, not to be curious or even concerned about your well-being.  This was a strategic engagement, not one born out of mutual affection. He has a role to play in this world after all. 

Three weeks had passed since he had the cameras installed, and all Yeo Jung-Hwa had discovered or even learned is that you were a completely different person in your home than at the office. 

You work Monday through Fridays, always on time and never staying late unless it was necessary. You returned to your family estate late on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays because there was a spinning class at the company gym after your shift on those days. Friday evenings were spent in either your room, holed up and completely focused on knitting or doing something else that helped relax you. If you were staying up late, the servants would provide a midnight snack for you. The portions increased on the days you were at the gym, alluding that you possessed an enormous appetite due to a high metabolism instead of being a glutton as Hyeung Mun-Hee has told him time and time again.  You talked to yourself when you were alone, or at least your thoughts before making a decision on something. When he remotely hacked into your laptop to see if he could find any evidence of foul play there, he saw your browsing history contained only decoration aesthetics ideas, healthier snacks to eat at night, local beginner yoga instructors, and shopping at small businesses on Crafty plus one or two high-end boutiques for business casual outfits. Nothing incriminating on any level whatsoever. But he was not going to let you off of the hook that easily. 

At work he ignored you entirely, focusing his attention on Hyeung Mun-Hee and blocked your calls so that he didn’t have to talk to you outside of business hours. There was not a single text message or voicemail from you on his cellphone when he unblocked your number yesterday morning after coming into the office. Understandably frustrated and cranky from a lack of proper sleep, he decided to change the deadline for the quarterly income statements and the inspections of the company’s financial software, including reinforcing the firewalls and ensuring there was no fraudulent activity in the company’s transactions to Monday morning. 

With this amount of work, he was absolutely certain that it would be your slip-up. That you’d push your assigned tasks to Hyeung Mun-Hee so you could keep working on your knitting projects. Today is Saturday, and you left your house at seven o’clock to go to the office. You stayed awake until midnight typing away on your company laptop, looking over spreadsheets while talking to the head of IT on speaker, arranging a test run on the firewalls on Sunday evening. 

Instead of helping the team prepare for everything to be finished at the beginning of the week, Hyeung Mun-Hee was sitting across from him inside a coffee shop, beaming and utterly happy that they were finally out on a date after not being on one for so long, she was getting worried about him. Well…perhaps. Yeo Jung-Hwa glanced down at the shopping bags by their feet. They had gone to trendy high end streets and luxury department stores earlier this morning, with Hyeung Mun-Hee desiring…no, more like insisting that she had at least eight new work outfits so that she would represent his company properly as a team member of the Finance Department. 

If that’s true, then why are you here using my black card to shop instead of working at the office? He thought behind a smile as his supposed lover’s words went from one ear and out the other. If you were here with him, he’d probably have been more accepting of indulging in your vices and insisting on paying for everything instead of you, even when you were just as wealthy as he is. 

“I’m sure that you will find out why Park Seo-yun is acting so suspiciously!” Hyeung Mun-Hee said in a hushed voice. “I can’t believe you are even associated with such a vile person.She can’t get away with talking down to others like that! She may be rich, but she doesn’t know how to truly appreciate what she has right now!” She giggled. “It’s funny, isn’t it? She has everything, but she still clings to your engagement like a sad puppy! If she truly loves you, then she should have convinced her father to call everything off so that you can be happy. But the rich think differently I guess, right?” 

His smile tightened. “Perhaps.” He said, languidly sipping the java chip mocha frappuccino that she bought for him even though he preferred to have his coffee black with no sugar and he’s told her this little tidbit many times. “She is extravagant, but you also have luxurious taste, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” 

He watched her eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment, sputtering for a moment before she asked. “W-What are you saying, Yeo Jung-Hwa? You know me! If I had been given a choice to meet up, I would have chosen the downtown area so you could try the street vendors I’ve been talking about!”

And risk my health by getting food poison from reused cooking oil, poorly washed utensils, and ingesting noodles that are too greasy or salty? Absolutely not. He thought with slight irritation. 

“Maybe, but we both know that we must be discreet in our interactions, as I’ve told you before.That’s why I suggested we come here, but instead of sampling delicious foods at the restaurants I recommended, you wanted to come here instead after shopping.  If I remember correctly, your department is supposed to be presenting a big project on Monday. Why are you here, shopping to your hearts’ content instead of being at the office and helping out the team?”

“W-Why should I be there?” Hyeung Mun-Hee countered, bolting up from her seat as she stared at him in shock. “If I go there, Park Seo-yun will harass me! I can’t work in an environment like that! I did those seminars she  told me to do and passed the tests! Can’t I enjoy a day off?!” Fat tears began to build up behind her hazel eyes. “I’ve been working hard enough!”

But you are the one who is putting in the overtime needed to finish the job. You are leading the team to do what needs to be done. Hyeung Mun-Hee is just enjoying the perks of being by his side. Have you eaten lunch yet? Perhaps he can stop by somewhere that allows take-out and bring some to your office under the excuse that he needs to get some work done as well.  Dinner too, perhaps? 

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME, YEO JUNG-HWA?!”

He glared at her. “Sit down, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” He hissed, displeased that her shrill voice had attracted unwanted attention from customers who were either sitting at tables or waiting on orders to finish up at the pick-up area. “Finish your drink, and take a taxi back to the city, to your home.”

“It’s still early in the day, we haven’t been out in a while!”

“And I’m tired from the shopping. I don’t need to see what you bought because I already have seen them all at the shops.” He replied tersely. “I need to stop by the office and take care of a few things at the office before I need to go home.” 

Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face is a dark shade of purple. Consumed by anger, her mouth hung open, on the brink of another explosive tantrum, as the coffee shop door swung open, exposing its next patron. You.  

You stepped up to the pick-up area, looking at the various drinks with a pensive expression before waving down a barista. “Excuse me.” You said. “I’m here to pick up a mobile order for several drinks under Park. When will they be ready? I need to hurry back to the office with caffeine for my employees or things are going to get ugly.” The  handbag hung from your wrist as you fished out your phone, presumably showing the online order to the young man. He looked at you before smiling at you. 

“We’ll have it done in just a moment, ma’am.”

Is it wrong for Yeo Jung-Hwa to desire the bright smile you gave to that insignificant commoner when you did not know he was here with Hyeung Mun-Hee?

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Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations! 

Important things must be said three times.

The viewership score for Episode 52 has arrived!

Taglist: @cerisearan @julietdelamare @ghostdoodlen @mochinon-yah @queenofspades403 @alittletiredcry @burningaestheticsimp @proper-fox @neutralrobot @reallysparklychaos @tired-of-life-86 @nunezs-stuff @yandere-dark-cupid @imperfectbloodmoon @cassanderasblog @faux-ecrivain @abelheilonwife @ixchelhernandez4 @diannaflight @sweetbatherodonkey @strangepoppy @persephone-kore-law @swallowtail-lotus @tonightwrites @majestichugs @pinkynecktie

18+ mdni, fem!reader // cw: somnophilia, non-con, incubus!bakugou, slightly angsty

there is an incubus inside your home.

he is a male, yes, but not the kind you’ve ever encountered before. he may look human at first glance, with his ash blonde hair, lopsided smile and smooth, creamy skin that even possesses the ability to turn pink at the cheekbones, but he is far from it. 

and every single night when sleep overtakes you, he proves it by finding his way back inside; slipping right past your locked front door without any sort of key whatsoever. 

he is quiet as he does it, mindful not to wake you. curious but still warily observant of his surroundings. he walks from room to room as silent as the grave he’ll never be put into, and touches your belongings like they are his own despite that he doesn’t have any. 

he picks up your framed pictures and stares at them for so long that he can now vividly distinguish the resemblance you share with your mother and father. holds your clothes and brings them closer to his nose until his lungs are full to the brim with your sweet scent and his throat feels like it's coated with honey. takes the spoon you’ve used to eat ice cream with a mere hour ago, and pretends that he can still taste the remnants of your spit as he puts it into his own mouth.

all of it is done as a means to learn more about your kind. about you. even if he already knows about what – to him – should be the most important part there is to learn about you. 

even then.

after all, he has been here before; countless of times, actually. he already knows how you sometimes whimper in your sleep and unconsciously snuggle closer to the warmth he provides when you should be running far away from it, as far as your feet can carry you. knows that your body begins to sweat if you’re too close to him for too long; making him undress you completely as a result, his fingers nimble at undoing the buttons of your pyjama shirt just so you can stand a chance at beating the heat that otherwise sizzles on his skin. knows that you preen at his touch, even if you can’t comprehend it in your sleeping state.

and he also knows how your heart beats faster as he undresses himself and proceeds to ravage you, then; that it hammers so quick, quick, quick, even if you can’t possibly know that he does it. knows that you tend to clench around his fingers first, and then around his cock when he sinks it particularly deep inside of you, repeatedly nudging that gooey, special spot that would have made you fucking scream otherwise, if he had just kept the power that keeps you dormant and unconscious sealed within him.

but instead of a scream of passion and the frantic scratching of your nails against his back, nothing but his breathless grunts and the lewd squelching noises resonate throughout the room. just like they always do.

you continue to sleep like so many before you, and he continues to feel lonely even if he’s not alone. the thin silvery strings of your release cling to him when he draws his hips back; not because you want them to, but because it is your body’s instinct to do so.

and as the sky turns even darker than it was before, the pale moonlight seeping inside your bedroom and making the shadows dance all over your walls, he continues to lay right there beside you; stroking and exploring your body with his too-hot palms, with his near-scorching mouth. branding your body with markings that will disappear at the break of dawn just like he will. every single time.

because just like with the markings, you have no clue that he was there either; you can’t possibly know. after all, the bewitching demon with the eyes in the shade of rich blood makes sure of it by covering his tracks exceptionally well. makes sure to not leave a single trace behind, despite tracing your stomach and sides with his calloused fingers all the time.

no, as far as you’re concerned, you just wake up tired every morning.

however, it’s a different kind of tiredness, you can’t possibly describe it with words and give it enough justice. no, this one is deeper; it reaches as deep as where the marrow of your bones lies. it is harsher than the one you sometimes experience after a particularly long shift at work, and it is immensely more profound than the kind that strikes you after you’ve socialized with people too much. stronger than the temporary remnants of fatigue a seasonal illness sometimes leaves you with, and the bored mental weariness a mundane routine may bring.

and to be honest, it is worrisome. every day, it feels like your very essence has been drained out of you just a little more, but your rational thinking and human eyes – blind to everything that can be considered unfathomable and otherworldly – never manage to make the connection. of course they don't. you just think that you’ve caught a cold.

and katsuki, that is his name, sees the change but he doesn’t stop. he can’t stop, even if he wants to. it is in his nature to be greedy when something perfect comes along the way, greedier than most of his kind tend to be. so despite being a creature of the night, he not only continues to disturb your peace during the late hours, but also starts to follow you around in broad daylight as well. 

he’s been completely lust-struck by you, so he’s everywhere. strictly invisible, but still everywhere – quite literally. he follows you to your lessons, joins you when you go out to meet up with your friends. he stands in line with you when you go to pick up your order at the local cafe that’s always way too busy for his liking, but which you prefer nonetheless, and sits in the empty chair next to you at the too-warm laundromat as you wait for the washing machine to beep. 

he lingers nearby as you read your silly little books in the library instead of studying for your exams. keeps you out of harm’s way even though you don’t even suspect the harm is there. lounges right by your side, with his arm draped over the backrest of your couch when you stay at home and feel bad about watching a romance film completely alone – oh, the irony. 

he watches you eat. shower. sleep.

every step of the way, he’s there. this new, somewhat possessive infatuation he’s grown for you turns him incapable of leaving you. you’re just so soft, kind, caring, warm, giving – human. you feed him so well. make him feel human to some extent, too. and with each passing day – not night, heavens no – he starts to care.

and yes, his blood runs hot through his heart, sure, but it’s nothing compared to yours. he’s an ancient creature; has been around for several millennia and has grown dull and cold on the inside over that time, but you’re the first one who can make him feel something other than the lust he needs to survive, as well as who can spark a wildfire within him of a different kind.

somehow, without him ever realizing it, you’ve become his powerhouse, his only one. he repeatedly feasts on you because of it – almost swallows you whole every other night just to feel that raw force of your heart course his veins again, and again, and again. until he becomes soft, and kind, and caring, and warm, and giving, too. until he becomes you.

and for fuck’s sake, it’s not right; he knows that all too well, too. you grow weaker by the day, and he’s aware of the fact that taking so much from you is dangerous, but what can he do? katsuki had never been a righteous man. had never even been a man at all. but he wants to be one now. he craves it so desperately; even enough to hurt you along the way if that is what it takes.

so the devil himself walks with you side by side. every day, every night.

if only he could show himself to you and hold your hand as a sign of solace.

cw: coercion

in my head, the difference between ghost and price is that ghost is so, “do you trust me?” (a dangling bait; a test), while price is so, “won’t you trust me?” (a fabricated truth; a leash).

do you trust me? — his big hand grips your jaw, tipping your head up until you are unable to look away from his eyes; he wants to hear you fall, that at least you know. he wants to see you curl in his arms on your own volition, because the fruit is always delicious when it is ripe; a conscious sinning.

won’t you trust me? — he pushes your hair away from your face and croons amidst your sobs. he pulls you closer, tucking your lashing hands away and says it’s for your own good. he says that everything he does is for your own good. it’s just that you don’t know any better; aren’t you glad that he’s here for you now?

18+, tw dubcon/noncon, mention of rimming

masseuse soap ; except reader accidentally makes an appointment at a strictly ‘happy ending’ massage parlor instead of a traditional one :(

you’re face down into the table, stammering out excuses and denials and “i-i didn’t think it was this kind of place—”. meanwhile, soap’s too busy ignoring you. his thick fingers already knuckle deep in your cunt with his tongue prodding your hole :(

cw: noncon

i do love those trope of ‘ordered an x, mistook it to be reader’ so much </3

how simon discreetly orders a hookup service during a long, solo mission, and how you got the address wrong so you knocked on his safehouse during your pizza delivery, and got him thinking that you’re the one he requested for.

he pulls you in and shushes you quietly — he thinks your shock is because of how he looks, and granted he’s not as pretty as kyle or boyishly charming like mactavish, or, hell, even as sexy as their captain, but does it really warrant you shaking, and tearing up, and telling him he’s got things wrong? does it really warrant you lying?

he thanks you for the pizza, says you’re too sweet to him, and presses kisses along your neck. he tries to calm you down with pawing caresses, his wide palms rubbing over your tits and dragging along your clothed cunt.

you try to push him off but he’s so heavy and thick and big and—

well, is it—

is it really that bad to let him fuck you? he’s so soft with his touches and he’s got the most gentle voice ever as he talks you through what he’s planning to do with you — detailing how he’ll take care of you and how he’ll make you feel good, he swears.

god, isn’t he better than your previous exes? they don’t even talk to you like this, too scared to not follow through their promises. and their kisses aren’t this thrilling; this scorching. this stranger kisses you like he’s starved, and that you’re all that could satiate his hunger. like you’re all the fix he needs.

it’s exhilarating to have someone act this way for you.

so simon fucks you then, tearing your uniform off your body and fills you up to the point of tears. you claw at his back, blunt nails leaving red welts on his skin, but simon doesn’t even care, too delirious in his pleasure because this might just be the best pussy he’s ever had.

he tells you this, says how you’re so wet and tight around him; how the press of your walls are unbelievably delicious and warm.

“fuck,” he rasps out. “got m’prick meltin’ here, sweetheart.”

you’ve lost count on how many times he’s made you cum.

(simon knows you’re not his hookup partner. what, with all that grease smell stuck on you and that ghastly uniform, there was no way you could’ve been her.

but the moment he’s opened that door and saw a glimpse of your surprised face, simon didn’t want anyone else then. he just wanted you.

he sent you away with a big tip and a little bug clipped on your jeans’ back pocket. what? you would want to see him too, wouldn’t you?)

poor lass

18+, afab reader, somno, perv soap

no thoughts, just best friend soap whispering in your ear as you’re doing mundane tasks, “if i were with you all the time, i’d never leave that pussy alone.” you could be working on base, sat in front of a computer and he’s leaning down to your level. his breath all hot against your ear. of course you couldn’t react, you had to be professional. but you couldn’t help but let your eyes widen, especially at his hand splayed across your back.

god forbid you make some off handed comment about how getting head is probably overrated (bc no ones ever given it to you before so you feel like everyone’s overreacting about it) and he just has to be the responsible best friend he is and show you how wrong you are 😨

“yer tellin’ me y’never got licked before? poor lass.”

sleeping over at your house without asking and sneaking into your room. you would wake up to wet noises and heat building in your core, your eyes peeking open to your best friend buried between your legs.

you wouldn’t even have time to question him or be startled before he’s dipping his tongue back in your cunt all over again, lips wrapping around your clit. any sounds of confusion would be immediately cut off by your own sharp moans and whimpers.

“oh, i know.” he would croon against your cunt, voice full of fake sympathy. “jus’ feels too good, huh? cannae even speak.”

you would feel him smiling against your soaked cunt as you squirm in his iron hold, his strong arms keeping you in place against his mouth.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

wanna smear the moth guts from all the moths i mercilessly crush over your lips, over your nude body-- and tell you next i am going to destroy you, as well. eviscerate you into a mass of crushed internals and externals and break you into nothing. catch a live one and make you swallow it alive. god that last one. hhh. need you to open up your throat and try not to kill it before its in your esophagus. can you feel its teeny little wings tickling your throat? is it disgusting, or scary, or do you just feel horrible that you're swallowing a live creature? its desperate to get out. swallow again. good pet.

Guilt and Jealousy ღ

eee.. Sorry, this is messy.. I randomly wanted to write another fic. ^^;;;;;; Not really proofread..

Basically: Ace suddenly discovers that you're dating someone else without telling him, and he can't stand the idea of that. Can't think straight.

CWs: Noncon, possessive/toxic behaviors, mentions of blood and biting

MDNI. 18+

Reader is GN!

Jealousy is a poison that can destroy anyone infected by it. The heat of a moment can makes a person’s mind melt or burn to ashes. A love too intense can make almost any person betray their morals.

Ace never wanted to hurt you.

Ace never wanted to make you cry.

But you were a flame, and he was an explosive. You lingered too close to the fuse that’s tied to him, and now you have to bear witness to the side of him he never wanted you to see.

Ace couldn’t understand how things ended up this way. Mere hours ago, you were jumping in the crowd, smiling for him, cheering him on and smiling so warmly. Mere hours ago, you were drinking and laughing and proudly wearing merchandise with his band’s logo printed on the front. But now…

Now…

“Please, let me go! I– I’m sorry!”

“Please, d-don’t hurt me! Ace, please!”

Your brand-new shirt was cast aside and ripped to shreds.

Your bright smile was replaced by a look of sheer terror paired with an onslaught of tears. What had you done to drag Ace down to this level…?

You kissed another man in front of him.

Remembering the way you kissed that other man made Ace’s mind spiral into a dark, frenzied mess. You and that other person– you and that purple-eyed freak in the crowd… Since when were the two of you dating? 

Why didn’t Ace know beforehand? 

How could you betray him like this…? Ace thought that you loved him. You always told him that you loved him.

How could you?

How could you hurt him like this?

You must’ve kept your relationship a secret from Ace. You must’ve kept it extremely well-hidden. But… Why?

Why?

“I- I’m sorry…!”

Ace could apologize all he wants, but he couldn’t make his body stop. His shaking hands were desperately tearing away at what little clothing you still had on. His watering eyes refused to stray away from yours. 

God, he felt guilty, but he was completely devoid of self-control.

The only way to get him to stop was for you to make him.

…But you couldn’t.

Ace apologized once more as his jaw opened wide, revealing his dangerous fangs. The sharp ends were pointed directly at your skin, ready to sink themselves into your flesh at any second. All you could do was brace for impact.

And right before he bit down, he softly mumbled the words, “I love you.”

By sinking his fangs deep into your shoulder, escape was no longer an option.

Everything was happening fast- way too fast. Ace refused to remove his teeth as he began to undo his pants, removing the pins from the heavy fabric as he also pushed down his boxers. His cock was already hard; precum leaking from the tip.

Images of you and that other man kept racing through Ace’s mind. You looked so happy… You looked so in love…

It should’ve been him.

Ace wishes it was him.

If you had just loved Ace from the start, none of this would’ve happened.

With his fangs still buried deep inside of your shoulder, Ace pried open your legs, trying his best to ignore the way you scream and beg for him to stop.

Ace needs this. 

He needs you more than anything.

His mind races: if he claims you here and now, there’s no chance of you leaving him for someone else. If he fucks you senseless and possesses you fully, you’ll never wish to leave his side. You’ll be his forever.

Does it make sense? No, not in the slightest. Is Ace aware that all he’s doing is traumatizing you and permanently ruining his relationship with you? Absolutely. But the irrational, animalistic side of his mind is taking control, and he can’t stop himself from giving in to his disgusting, depraved desires. 

He can’t let anyone else have you.

Ace positions his cock at your entrance, rubbing his tip against it lightly. His breathing is incredibly heavy; he’s partially afraid that he’ll cum within the first few pumps.

“N-no, please, don’t… Ace, you’re better than this! Don’t do this!”

Your words pierce him directly in his aching heart, and for a second, he considers listening to your pleas.

But it’s too late now. He’s gone too far.

With guilt written all over his face, he looks up at you with tears in his blue eyes. He can’t stand to hear your begging anymore– so he lifts his left hand and presses it firmly against your mouth. Silencing you.

And with nothing more left to lose, he thrusts himself deep inside of you, your walls instantly tightening around his length. Ace sweetly moans as his fangs sink deeper into you.

Ace tries to fuck you slowly at first, wanting things to be more ‘sensual’, but he quickly loses self-control in that aspect as well. His hips begin to move fast and erratically, sweat trickling down his pale skin as he pushes himself as deep inside of you as possible.

Inside of his messy mind, there's a part of him that feels warm and happy- excited at how he has finally become 'one' with you.

He moans and whimpers embarrassingly loud- his right hand grips one of your thighs and pries your legs open wider. He enjoys this for a while, but the position quickly becomes old- Ace is desperate to fuck you in so many ways.

Without a warning, he suddenly retracts his fangs from your shoulder, pain surging throughout your entire body as he laps up the blood that drips from your wound.

It tastes… Strange in his mouth. Your blood doesn’t taste like anything else he’s tried before. But your blood isn’t what he’s after– no, what he wants is your soft lips.

Ace removes his left hand from your face, but before you can utter even a single word, he forces his lips onto yours. You taste your own blood against your will as he shoves his tongue deep inside your mouth.

It’s strange- Ace seems so giddy as he explores your mouth. Every inch, every crevice- he goes over it with his tongue. His strong hands move down to your legs as he moves them as far up as he possibly can, firmly sandwiching you between himself and the surface beneath you. He fucks you even faster, thrusts his cock even deeper, and whimpers your name relentlessly.

It feels... Wrong being used by Ace like this. You can't help but feel dirty.

Yes- you cared for him deeply- but you're in love with someone else now.

Hell, you never thought it was even possible for Ace to be in love with you… He always seemed so busy with his band, seemed so busy living out his dreams…

You had a crush on him a long time ago, you used to always say that you love him, but all of those feelings had been cast aside.

And now, here you are… Being fucked by him against your will.

It made you want to scream. It made you want to cry. The feelings inside of your heart are conflicting– and this stinging pain is like nothing else you’ve experienced before.

Bitter tears keep streaming down your cheeks, but Ace doesn’t seem to notice them.

Deep down, there’s a small part of him that believes you secretly want this. A small part of him that believes you wanted him to chase you and forcefully claim you like this.

...Perhaps it’s his mind trying to cope with the fact that what he’s doing is morally reprehensible.

Ace loathes the idea of being a bad person.

He thrusts his cock deeper into you as he chases his high. He’s close- so close- and his body is begging for a release. Ace makes sure to grind against your most sensitive spots; he’s determined to make you cum as well.

His cock twitches as your walls tighten around him, involuntarily drawing him closer to his peak. Ace wrap his arms around your body as he pulls you into a warm embrace, hugging you gently as fucks you needily.

His breath hitches. He gasps loudly.

“C-cum… Cumming… I’m- I’m so- I’m sorry!”

It’s far too late to go back now. When he has you trapped in the cage of his arms like this, the only thing he can do is cum deep inside of you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he pushes you down onto his cock. It feels so good- it's heaven on earth.

His orgasm hits like a white-hot explosion.

And as he relishes in his high, he lowers his hand and rubs your most sensitive areas, forcing you to climax as well.

Ace’s breathing is heavy. His head lowers in both shame and remorse.

But when he looks down, he can’t help but admire the way his cum is spilling out of you. He regrets everything that has happened on this night- he regrets ever hurting you in any way, shape or form. He'll have to beg for forgiveness. But at the same time…

He can’t help but feel like he didn’t have a choice.

Now you’re his. You belong to him.

And that makes him happy.

If that other man dares to come near you again, Ace might do another thing that he’ll sincerely regret.

Boss bends Busty Secretary over Copy-machine

Pairing(s) James Potter x Female!Reader

Warnings RAPE/NON-CON, dark themes, loss of virginity, p in v, public sex, cheating, bondage, rough sex, slapping, no condom, creampie, non-con breading, mention of pregnancy, swearing. let me know if I missed anything please!

Read at your own risk!

Working at Prongs & Padfoot Law Firm was truly a dream come true. After graduating law school and receiving no job invitations you were devastated but your friends had cheered you up and convinced you to apply anyway. A few weeks later you received a call back from one of the best law firms in England, there was one problem though, the position was for a secretary not a lawyer. After another round of depression your friends convinced you that any job at a law firm was better than no job at a law firm and being a secretary could help you gain experience.

You had been working at the law firm for 3 months now and things were coming along nicely. Your boss, Sirius Black, was fair and considerate. He was an amazing lawyer who cared deeply for the victims and worked hard to make perpetrators pay. Your coworkers were all hardworking and dedicated and helped you out with any questions you may have.

Today the office was buzzing with nerves. James Potter, the other boss, was arriving back to the office after going on his honeymoon with his beautiful wife, Lily. James Potter was a legend in the courtroom. He could pry secrets out of a corpse with his wit and charm. You had admired him for so long and he was the reason you had chosen to study law in the first place. You just hoped nothing embarrassing happened.

You were alone in the copy room making copies of yesterday’s meeting notes to give to Mr. Black when the door to the copy room slammed open and the shut. You jumped in surprise as you turned to look at the door. Panting, with his back pressed against the door was a man you’d recognize anywhere, James Potter. His eyes were closed as he caught his breath, his dark curls stuck to his sweaty forehead, and his whole body moved as his lungs weezed tiredly.

“Mr. Potter? Are you alright?” You asked, taking a hesitant step towards him, he looked ready to pass out which was odd considering how athletic he was.

James Potter’s eyes snapped open at your voice. He immediately straightened himself out, “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here. I just needed a moment.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Mr. Black’s new secretary.” You smiled up at him happily. He was just as great as you imagined, much more handsome than his pictures too.

James tried so hard to listen he really did, but his body felt like a sauna. He had just gotten back from a three month fuck-fest in Bora Bora were he had not cum once. Sweet Lily tried everything. She let him fuck her cunt, asshole, mouth, tits, they had sex outside, inside, in the pool, in the ocean, she even slid underneath the table during dinner and sucked his cock like a porn star, nothing worked. Their sex life before marriage was amazing and full of cum but now James couldn’t cum no matter how much they tried.

“Mr. Potter? Are you sure you’re okay? You look really red.” Your soothing voice engulfed James’ senses. You were peering up at him with wide worried eyes and you were so beautiful. Your lips were red and James wondered if you tasted like cherries or strawberries. Your outfit was modest, with a pencil skirt that fell to your knees and a blouse buttoned all the way to the top, fit with a tie and everything. You were perfect, James needed to have you.

He pushed himself forward, grasping your shoulders roughly and pressing his mouth hungrily against yours. You were caught off guard and had no time to fight as James manhandled you on top of the copy machine with your back pressed painfully against the surface. His lips continued their assault on yours as you desperately tried to twist your mouth away from his. James pulled away from you with squelch sound.

“Mr. Potter! Please! What are you doing?!” You were incredibly confused and shocked about the events occurring.

James answered you with a harsh slap across your face, you cried out in pain and he slapped you again. He untied your tie and wrapped it around your mouth, creating a makeshift gag. He then took his own tie off and quickly tied your wrists together. You looked so pretty with mascara running down your face and body twisting trying to find an escape, James was going to have so much fun with you, he would not stop until he came.

James made quick work of unbuttoning your blouse and lifting up your bra. Your boobs were so soft and big, your nipples instantly perked up at the cold office environment. James grasped them and groped them the way Lily liked, rolling your hard nipples in between his fingers. You soft mewls were muffled but James could tell you liked it by the way your thighs rubbed together.

James continued exploring your body with his hands, dragging them downward, past your thighs until he reached the end of your skirt. He pushed your skirt up until all the fabric was bunched at your waist. You shook your head desperately, muffled ‘no’s’ and sobs leaving your lips. James payed no mind to you as he forced you legs apart and pulled your underwear down your legs. There would be time for teasing and eating you out later right now James needed to be inside you.

James ran a thick finger down your pussy, rubbing your engorged clitoris and teasing the entrance to your vagina. You were so wet James was certain he didn’t even need to prep you, but he was larger than average so he decided it was best to do it anyways. James teased your entrance a bit more before gently pushing his middle finger into your hole. Before he could get far he was stopped by a barrier he only felt once before. You were a virgin, your hymen was still in place. Fuck prep James needed to be inside you now.

“Fuck. Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin, sweet thing. Fuck I can’t wait to feel you.”

You wept silently as James quickly unbuttoned his trousers and brought his cock out. You nearly fainted at the sight. He was big, bigger than you had ever seen on porn or in your imagination. You whimpered at the thought that that thing would be inside of you.

“Don’t be scared, love, I’ll be gentle.”

James was anything but gentle as he pushed his cock inside of you mercilessly. He continued pushing even when your walls tried to push him out and your pained sobs grew louder. James could not register anything except the feeling of his cock entering your body. You were tighter than any woman he had ever been inside (and it was quite a few). James was balls deep inside of you when he felt it. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix and his balls convulsed painfully as he let go of 3 months worth of semen and sperm into your uterus.

“Fuck, I knew you were the one.” James groaned as he rode out his orgasm and rubbed your clit as a reward.

Once his orgasm died down James began to thrust into you, he was gentle but he picked up the pace as you began to move your hips to his rhythm.

“See, baby, I knew you would enjoy this. Good girl, that’s it, move your hips just like that.” Your mind was blank as pleasure overwhelmed your entire being. James’ cock stretched you deliciously. The drag of his cock against your inner walls was like nothing you had ever felt before. The pain and fear was long forgotten.

James was in heaven. After the ordeal with Lily he thought he would never find pleasure in sex again but just one thrust into your virgin cunt had him cumming and drooling at the mouth. James bent his body over yours to look you in the eye. He unwrapped the makeshift gag and kissed you passionately. From this moment forward, you were his.

“Cum for me, my love.” James held on to you as the head of his cock pushed against your cervix and once again filled your uterus with his sperm. Your legs shook and your back arched as you felt a powerful orgasm run across your body.

You and James laid there, trying to catch your breath and process what had just happened. After a while James lifted his body off of yours and carefully took his cock out of your body. You whimpered at the empty feeling and James gently shushed you with a kiss. Using his index and middle finger he softly fingered runaway cum back into your overstimulated vagina. It wasn’t James’ intention to baby trap you but he prayed to any god listening that you weren’t on birth control.

mmm post pk coryo w somno.....

yes lord 😩😣

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw NONCON SOMNO, ABUSE OF POWER, implied perv!reader

coriolanus sneaking into your bed while you’re dead asleep, his cock painfully hard as he gently pulls back your blanket and undresses your lower half. he has to bite back a curse as your pussy is revealed to him — so ready to be fucked by his cock.

and it’s not like you can say no to him. he’s leagues above your pay grade, making you susceptible to whatever dirty thoughts plague his mind. it’s evident in the way he slides the head of his dick in between your folds that you’re nothing more than a pretty little plaything for him.

when you wake up to the foreign intrusion of coriolanus’s rock-hard shaft fucking your cunt, that pit deep within your tummy falls to your feet. you go to shout at him but he’s quick to attach a vice grip to your mouth with his hand.

“be quiet,” he hisses, breath shaky from how fucking good you feel. “i’m so close to cumming. just let me finish. please, please, please—“

and the sickeningly warm feeling of his cum dumping deep inside is enough to make you want to claw your skin off. yet, there’s something about your own orgasm that makes your thighs shake and eyes roll back into your skull.