i want dad to get me pregnant right neooowww I need him to poke holes in his condoms and decide for me that im gonna get pregnant. maybe he even discards condoms entirely and ignores my protests while holding me down in a mating press 👀
cannot stop thinking about relishing really over the top rapey kisses on someone drugged to the point it can hardly even get its body to squirm and whine uselessly in response to the violation
thinking about druggie dad who catches me smoking weed and when i get all nervous about him catching me he laughs and nudges me. “i did way more than just weed when i was your age. you shouldn’t limit yourself like this, kiddo,” he tells me. he ends up giving me shrooms, and im apprehensive but i take them anyway. he’s there with me when i get high, he doesn’t take any which I think is a little odd, but I ignore it. when i start to stumble around he sits me down, and when i try to protest he shushes me and spreads my legs to settle between them. he rubs his hard-on against me while I have no choice but to take it, too high to really tell what’s going on. he ends up sinking his cock inside of me at one point, groaning and panting into my ear. maybe even praising me, telling me what a good boy I am for taking his cock so well, ignoring the fact I didn’t want it in the first place.
he’s been eyeing you the whole night, the tall, dark-haired man drinking alone on the other end of the gross dive bar.
you couldn’t really judge him on that; you were also drinking alone, after all. but you thought it was a little odd the way he’s been staring at you.
you just ignored him.
eventually, he came up to you, after you’d had quite a few drinks. you were trying to wallow in your own misery that night.
a bad idea.
he tried to make conversation with you, to which you sneered at him and told him to piss off. an even worse idea, but you were drunk and pissed at the world.
you think something darkened in his eyes when you spoke. there was something just off about him.
but he slinked away, back into the corner of the bar, glaring at you now.
you ignored the prickly feeling that persisted in the back of your neck and took another gulp of your drink.
more under the cut (big noncon tw)
you don’t know how long you’ve been drinking when the bartender tells you you’ve had enough. you’ve naturally forgotten about the man by now, and what had even made you drink in the first place.
you quietly grumbled to yourself as you left the bar and started walking to your car. you knew perfectly well how bad of an idea it was to drive like this, you just didn’t really care.
you didn’t notice that the man is following you. when you pull out your keys he’s on you in an instant, hurriedly pulling your body into his and clamping his hand over your mouth.
there was not a soul out there, maybe if you screamed someone in the bar would hear you, but you doubted that anyone would care.
your hands shot up to claw at his hand desperately. a silent plea, let me go.
“ungrateful little whore. you should learn some goddamn manners,” he muttered into your ear as he practically manhandled you into the closest alleyway to guarantee no one will see you both.
“i was tryna play nice, y’know. you don’t gotta be such an uptight, frigid bitch.” he hissed. you were terrified. of course you were. who wouldn’t be, in that situation?
you could hear him fiddling with his belt with his free hand.
he paused for a moment. “hm. maybe it’s better this way. now i don’t hafta deal with that relationship bullshit. makin’ you feel loved and allat nonsense.” he huffed. you could feel his hot breath on your ear.
that was the moment where you realize what he’s insinuating. your head spun, but you could do nothing when he finally freed his dick one-handedly. he practically tore your jeans off your body and made a tsk sound.
“hidin’ all these pretty curves. such a shame.” you made a panicked noise against his hand, but you didn’t move. your body just sort of locked up on you.
maybe if he gets what he wants he will leave you alone.
he rubbed his dick against your bare thigh when he managed to get your jeans off, smearing precum on your skin. you shivered when you felt the cold air on your body.
he chuckled when he slid your underwear down your thighs. “you must really like this, baby.” he mocked you. he knew perfectly well you didn’t want any of it.
he didn’t bother wasting time, or even prepping you. he gripped his cock and led it to your (embarrassingly wet) cunt, and with a quick, targeted thrust he was buried deep inside your tight heat. he let out a sharp groan at the feeling.
“god, fuck, you’re tight. like a virgin. are you a virgin, honey?” he cooed, clearly not intending to let you answer. in fact, he only gripped your face harder as his cock slowly slid out your cunt. you couldn’t see a thing, that’s how dark it was in that filthy alleyway.
your already limited vision began to blur, and you realized you were crying. he seemed to notice this because he let out another awful laugh.
“aww. poor thing’s scared. cryin’ won’t make me stop, y’know. it might make me fuck ya harder, though.” he inhaled sharply when all of a sudden, he thrusted deeply into your cunt again. you were shaking, trying not to cry, but it was too late.
he grunted low in your ear as he fucked into your impossibly tight heat. all you could hear were your own broken sobs and the man’s groans and the sound of skin on skin.
you’d never felt more helpless than you did in that moment, you always prided yourself on taking control of situations, in fact, but here the control was forcefully ripped away from you.
the whole time you were telling yourself you weren’t going to come, that this man was raping you and thus it didn’t feel good. it couldn’t- no god would be that cruel, would they?-, but you found yourself about to come anyway. you felt pathetic; he wasn’t even targeting your gspot, there was no reason for you to come like this.
you whimpered into his hand as your abused cunt started to weakly flutter around his thick cock.
he let out another groan. “you really do- hnng, fuck- like this, huh,” he murmured breathlessly with a clear smile in his voice. he only doubled his efforts, really, fucking you harder than before
you could only let out a pathetic, muffled noise when you came around his dick. through your haze, you could barely register what you were even doing, what was going on. to call your orgasm mind-wiping would be an understatement.
by the time you had ridden it out, you were limp against him as he continued to rape your ruined cunt. a few more snaps of his hips, and he was coming inside you with a choked groan, and there was nothing at all you could do to stop him.
he pulled out of your used hole, thank god, you had thought to yourself, but then he pushed you down to the grimy floor of the alleyway. you made a panicked noise, opening your mouth to scream at last, when he stuffed his cock into your mouth.
“bite me and you’re fuckin’ dead. i mean it.” he warned, squeezing his hands around your throat.
“I think you can take my dick for a little longer, hm? just a bit more.” he grinned, but it was all teeth. you choked back a strangled sob as he began to rape your mouth.
feeling it curl slowly around each digit, each joint, squeezing and squeezing, a creeping pain that promises in it's infinity.
your heart plumps the blood like it should. then it slows. teasing you, flirting with stillness. then it surges back again, racing, playing it's cruel games
you want to die. the easy way.
but then you cry, and cry, and cry again.
you don't want to die, but you know you don't get a choice.
and it isn't pretty. it isn't brave.
what's so brave about being smeared with blood and snot? tears and drool spilling from a slack mouth, sprawled out on a grimy floor. hair matted with grease, and skin clammy with sweat.
the pain claws its way through you, brutal and intimate. burrowing deep into muscle, nerves, and bone. your breath turns thin and shallow, never enough. your ears ring until all sound collapses into a dull and distant hum. every part of you tenses, locks up, and inevitably betrays you. you cant walk, you cant sit, there's never no relief, no position that doesn't remind you the lack of it.
you're reduced to just meat, nerves, and ache
just a body
a carcass left to rot in its own heat and filth, breaking down inch by inch—
but denied the mercy of death.
you aren't beautiful, you're sick.
and no one cares.
though somewhere within the rot, you know you love it.
because its the only thing that stays, the only thing that touches you this intimately every day, proving you're still here. the torture that keeps you upright, and gives you a point to say 'this is me.'
papa who puts his fingers in my mouth during movie night,,,,,, “im just getting the popcorn bits out of your teeth for you, kiddo,” he says, and i don’t have it in me to shove him away. send post
will was kicking his teenage boyfriend in the stomach in the aftermath of a disagreement, lost in the depths of another drunken stupor. he didn't stop - continuing to kick him over and over again until his boyfriend threw up, but the sight of his small body convulsing and dry heaving left will feeling more turned on than angry.
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