Requesting pls a sweet innocent babygirl yandere bestfriend who snaps when reader complains about yet another bf not being man enough and yandere shows reader he's actually daddy instead 🥺
Just to be clear, feminine boy yandere or girl best-friend ?
synopsis. you were bullied by him during your entire high school life, and you thought that by enrolling in a university you could get away from him. news flash, you didn't. it was like he followed you there. but this time, you weren't the same you from high school, you're different and he can't help but want you even more.
content warnings. 18+, reader gets a glow up before entering university, yandere tendencies, possesiveness, obssesive tendencies, jealousy trope, harrassment from a side character, he's a reformed bully(?), smut, soft sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), cumming inside you, hints of marathon sex.
word count. 5.1k
you don’t remember the exact moment it started — only the way it settled into your life like background noise.
it wasn’t that you stood out. not in the way people usually mean. you were average, maybe a little too quiet, a little too precise. you corrected the teacher once in ninth grade and never made that mistake again. you laughed at the wrong things, or too late, and sometimes people looked at you like you were a half-step behind everyone else.
then there was ace.
he didn’t bully like they do in movies. it wasn’t lockers and threats. it was attention. too much attention.
you learn quickly that reacting only makes it worse. so, you don’t. not in the way people expect anyway.
when ace starts teasing you in ninth grade — calling you ‘professor,’ mocking the way you talk, the way you walk, the way your hand hovers in the air just a second too long in class — you decide, without knowing it’s a decision, to never give him anything.
no eye rolls. no snapped comebacks. no sulking walk-outs.
just silence.
you become very good at being unreadable. on the outside, at least. but inside, it hurts. it always hurts.
you hate how visible you are to him — how you can sit in the back of a classroom, say nothing, and still feel his eyes on you. like he’s waiting for you to say something too formal, too strange, too you, just so he can take it and turn it into something worth laughing at.
and people do laugh. not cruelly — just reflexively. a nudge in the ribs, a chuckle, a sidelong glance. it doesn’t take much for everyone to fall in line.
you’re not sure what ace wants from you. that’s the worst part. his comments aren’t even that harsh. not really. it’s the intention behind them; the constant needling, the way he makes everything you do feel like a punchline.
like you’re not allowed to just be without explanation.
you hear him say once in gym class, “they talk like they’re auditioning for a bbc documentary.” you pretend you didn’t hear.
but later, in the locker room, you hear the rest quoting it. not in a mocking tone, just repeating it like it’s true.
it’s not the words that sting. it’s the fact that he sees you — and instead of making that matter, he turns you into some half-joke to pass the time.
you don’t cry, not in school. you go home, sit at your desk, and replay it in your head. you wonder why it matters so much, why he matters so much. and you hate that you care.
the truth is, you’re lonely. not in a dramatic way, just in the dull, constant ache of not being known way.
ace, for all his stupid comments and lingering stares, seems to know more about you than most people. but he never uses that knowledge gently. he jabs with it, pokes, prods, waits for cracks. but you never let them show.
you start changing the way you speak. you start second-guessing what books you bring to school, what clothes you wear, how you sit. you dull the edges of yourself, one after another, until you can walk through the hallways without hearing his voice behind you.
that’s your version of survival.
eventually, he stops. or maybe you’ve become too boring to bother with. either way, by senior year, the comments fade. you don’t speak to each other again. and you don’t look back when you graduated.
university is different.
people don’t really notice you, not at first, but that’s fine. you’re used to it. you make friends slowly, you get better at being yourself again — not all at once, but in pieces. your voice doesn’t wobble anymore, you let your hair fall the way it wants to, you start to like the sound of your own laugh.
you finally became a person again.
second year, you’re early to class. you take a seat near the middle, a strange kind of confidence you didn’t used to have. you’re pulling out your laptop when someone drops into the seat beside you.
you feel it before you look. the lazy sprawl, the sudden shift in the air, and then the voice.
“sorry, is this taken?”
you glance up. it takes you a second. because he’s older now. sharper jaw, broader shoulders, messier hair. but the grin is the same, so are those brown eyes that sparkles with mischief.
ace clemonte.
your body goes still, the old instinct kicking in, but your face doesn’t change. you shake your head. “no, it’s fine.” he nods and looks away, and it seemed like he doesn’t recognise you. of course he doesn’t. why would he?
to him, you were just a fun target. someone with too many syllables in their sentences. a straight back, a quiet mouth.
the professor starts, the class settles. you manage to stay focused — until he leans over and whispers something under his breath. a half-joke about the guy in front falling asleep. and you respond before you can stop yourself.
a low murmur, just audible enough. “or maybe he doesn’t find it performative enough to stay awake.” your voice is quieter now than it used to be, smoother, less rehearsed, but still yours. and you feel it happen. that pause.
he turns toward you, brows pulled together. then the recognition flickers in his face — not all at once, but slowly, like a fog lifting. “... wait,” he says, almost laughing at the coincidence. “no way.”
you say nothing and he blinks. “you’re… you’re ( name ).”
you stare ahead, eyes on the projector screen. he leans closer. “i didn’t recognise you.” you nod once, typing out your notes from the lecture. “that’s okay, i did.” the words land heavier than he expects. you don’t say them angrily — just plainly.
he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “you look… different.” you don’t answer. and in that silence, you can feel it — the weight shifting. for the first time, he’s not the one holding it.
he looks at you again, really looks, and you wonder what he sees now. does he remember how often he said your name like it was a punchline? does he remember how many times he looked at you like he wanted something, then punished you for not giving it?
maybe not.
but he knows something now, he knows you remember. and you hope it engraves in his head.
。 。 。 。 。 。
ace never wanted to be in love with you. it would’ve been easier if he could’ve just hated you properly. but the truth? he saw you once and never looked away.
it was ninth grade. you were standing near the back of the library, mumbling something about greek tragedy structures to a teacher who wasn’t really listening. you gestured as you spoke; awkward, precise, and your voice didn’t wobble. it rang with clarity, like you had no idea people weren’t supposed to talk like that.
and something in him snapped.
it wasn’t romantic. not at first. it was need, possession. like he’d spotted a diamond half-buried in the dirt and couldn’t stand the idea of someone else getting to it before he did.
because if he noticed you, someone else could too.
and he wouldn’t allow that.
he made you his by making unapproachable. by dragging you down, inch by inch. mocking your voice, twisting your words. laughing at your posture, your clothes, the books you carried. every small thing that made you visible — he ripped it open and pointed for the world to see.
not because he wanted to humiliate you. because he wanted to ruin the way others saw you.
they didn’t laugh to be cruel. they laughed because he made it easy. made you easy to overlook, easy to dismiss, easy to ignore. that was his power.
you never gave him anything in return. no glares, no outbursts, just silence. and it drove him mad.
still, it worked. eventually, people stopped noticing you. you slipped into background noise. and you hated it, he could tell. the light started leaving your eyes by senior year. you rarely spoke, never raised your hand. you barely looked like the person he remembered.
and somehow, that made him furious.
because he’d fallen in love with the way you used to be. strange, upright, too formal, too sharp. like a diamond that hasn’t learned how to dull itself yet. and now you were quiet, flat, safe.
so he backed off. let you go, let you fade. but he never stopped watching.
he learned your patterns like religion. what classes you had, what time you left for school. he memorised your route home, the name of the bookstore where you liked to loiter even when you didn’t buy anything. the sandwich place you always picked for lunch even though you barely finished half of it.
by spring of senior year, he was already planning how not to lose you.
you never saw him follow you into the library, twice a week, just far enough behind the motion-activated doors didn’t open for him.
you never noticed when he passed your laptop in the hallway and took note of the login screen, memorising the school email. what he could find from there, he did. not easily, not quickly but obsessively.
when college application season hit, he knew your top picks before most of your friends did. knew your backups, knew the early deadlines.
he tracked your activity on the school wifi portal. found the server that listed the outgoing common applications. saw the name of your dream university, saw your second choice, saw the offer you accepted three minutes after you clicked it.
and so did he.
he didn’t even visit the campus. didn’t care about the program. he just applied, obsessively checking every few hours for updates, waiting for that email. and when he got in, it was like sealing fate. like you’d chosen him too.
he told himself it wasn’t stalking. it was love, it was insurance. it was his right, because he saw you first. he kept you from being ruined by other people. he was the one who knew the real you.
even if you didn’t know him anymore.
university was bigger, busier. and you were thriving in it.
the first time he saw you on campus, he thought he’d hallucinated you. but then you turned, and the sunlight caught your hair just right, and it was like someone hitting replay in his brain.
you didn’t walk like someone hiding anymore. you took space. you looked up. you laughed, soft, not the belly-deep kind, but genuine.
he watched you from across courtyards. through library windows. from three rows back in your shared electives.
you were changing. becoming the version of yourself he always imagined, but without him.
he hated it.
he loved it. he needed to get closer. but he waited.
he waited until the second year. until the literature course that you joined last minute. until he saw your name on the roster and showed up early, just to get the seat beside you.
when you entered the room, he didn’t look at you first. he waited until you settled.
and then; “sorry, is this taken?”
you looked up. right at him. and he saw it, the flicker. you recognised him. you knew exactly who he was.
but your expression didn’t change. your posture didn’t tighten. you just said, “no it’s fine,” and looked away.
he thought maybe that was it. maybe you’d ignore him again, like in high school. but then he made a joke — something harmless, forgettable; about the guy asleep in front.
and you replied.
cool. effortless. cutting, but clean. “or maybe he doesn’t find it performative enough to stay awake.”
and he felt it in his spine.
he turned toward you, the corner of his mouth twitching, that familiar pull rushing back like a tidal wave. “...wait,” he said, breath hitching, “no way.”
“you’re… you’re ( name ). i didn’t recognise you.” it was a lie. of course he did.
you didn’t blink. “that’s okay, i did.”
and that was it. that was everything. he watched you take notes the rest of class like nothing happened.
he didn’t say more. couldn’t.
because for the first time, the weight of what he’d done, what he’d taken, sat in his throat like a swallowed key.
and still, he wanted you. still, he wouldn’t move on.
other people talked to you now. sat beside you. laughed at your dry remarks, you didn’t need him anymore. not even as the villain.
but he needed you.
and no matter how many strangers walked into his life, none of them would ever be you. none of them had your voice, your eyes, the quiet precision that made him want to set the world on fire just to keep others from looking.
he knew it was sick. he didn’t care. because in his mind, you were already his.
and it didn’t matter how many years passed, didn’t matter how far you tried to run, didn’t matter how happy you looked without him.
he would follow you again. if you transferred, he would too. if you moved, he’d find out where. and if you ever looked at someone the way you never looked at him, he’d see it. he’d feel it like a knife under the ribs.
because he saw you first, and no one else gets to want you like that. not while he’s still breathing.
that’s why now, he has to make you his. one way or another.
。 。 。 。 。 。
ace had stopped pretending.
there was no more hiding it in half-laughs or sarcastic comments. no more keeping his obsession neat and folded in the quiet corners of his brain.
he wanted you close, always — and now he made sure everyone else saw it.
it started small. he sat next to you in every class. walked beside you after lectures, waited outside buildings he didn’t even have a reason to be near. eventually, he started showing up at the coffee shop you liked, the library, the art museum. that one corner of the quad where you liked to read on slow afternoons.
you never asked him to leave.
at first, you’d glance at him like you were waiting for the punchline — some joke, some sneer, the old version of him. but it never came. instead, ace started holding doors for you. carrying your bag.
sitting close enough that his thigh pressed against yours. bumping his shoulder into you when you said something dry and clever, grinning like he hadn’t heard something so perfect in years.
he started touching you — light touches, casual ones, but they lingered.
a hand on your lower back when walking through crowds. fingers brushing your wrist when passing your phone. his knee knocking against yours and not moving.
and you… didn’t stop him.
you never pulled away.
you didn’t laugh it off or tell him to knock it off or say don’t touch me. maybe you thought it was just one of his antics. a phase, a joke without a punchline.
but the rest of the campus? they noticed.
they started assuming. some even asked. “are you two a thing?” and you didn’t correct them. you’d shrug, roll your eyes, and sometimes you’d say, “it’s just ace,” like that meant something.
and ace? he heard it every time.
‘it’s just ace.’ but it wasn’t. not to him. to him, you were already his. you just hadn’t realised it yet.
he took you to a small get-together one night. not really a party — just drinks on the grass outside someone’s dorm. there were string lights overhead and music you couldn’t really dance to. just let wash over you. ace sat next to you, kept you close the whole time. his arm slung over the back of your chair, fingers just barely brushing your shoulder.
you looked soft in the low light. your legs crossed, a drink in hand, half-smiling at something across the yard. you didn’t look like someone who had once been broken into silence. you looked like you belonged here.
and ace was proud.
he liked being seen with you like this. liked how people glanced at the two of you and assumed. liked how no one approached when he was near. you were safe that way.
but then he got up.
just for a second. to grab you both a refill, just a drink.
he glanced at you once before heading toward the folding table set up near the edge of the lawn. it wasn’t far. thirty feet, maybe. the line wasn’t even long. he could still hear the music, still see your outline in the glow of the lights.
but when he turned back, drink in each hand — someone else was standing next to you.
ace froze.
the guy leaned in, clearly saying something low by your ear. you gave a polite smile, not real, but not rude. the kind of smile people give when they want something to end.
but the guy kept going. said something that made your brows pinch. ace’s hands tightened around the plastic cups. and then the guy’s hand, it dropped.
not on your shoulder, not your arm. but your knee.
just resting there. too casual, too slow. the kind of touch that was always pretending to be innocent. but ace knew better.
you tensed, your smile disappeared. you glanced towards the table, towards him, like you wanted to leave.
and that was it.
the drinks hit the ground. he didn’t walk back — he stormed. silent, efficient, cold. he didn’t raise his voice, didn’t ask questions. just stepped between you and the guy like you were a fire he needed to shield with his own body.
“they’re not interested,” ace said, voice razor sharp. the guy blinked, confused, annoyed. “what—?”
he didn’t let him finish. “get your hand off them.” he said. there was no anger in his tone. not yet, just steel. the guy started to say something, to you, of all people, and ace cut in again.
“you touch them again,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “and i’ll make sure no one hears from you for a very long time.”
silence followed before the guy left. he didn’t push it, didn’t fight back. something in ace’s eyes made it very clear — this wasn’t worth it.
and then it was just you and ace again.
your eyes were wide. your voice was quiet. “you didn’t have to—”
“i did.” he said, already reaching for your hand. “c’mon. you’re done here.”
he walked you back to your dorm without another word. one hand wrapped around yours, the other clenched at his side. not saying what he was thinking, not saying what he wanted to do.
because inside?
he was still back there — standing over that guy, planning. he could’ve followed him, could’ve made it look like an accident. something fast, clean, quiet. no one would have to know. no one would touch you like that again.
no one would dare.
because you weren’t just someone ace liked. you weren’t just a person he followed out of infatuation. you were his reason. his air. his anchor to a world he hated. without you, he didn’t breathe right. without you, he unraveled.
and if that meant scaring people off? if that meant leaving bodies behind? so be it.
because you weren’t his partner. not officially. but one day? you’d see it. and when you did? you wouldn’t want anyone else.
not after him.
。 。 。 。 。 。
the cool night air nipped at your cheeks as ace dragged you hastily through the crowded campus, his grip on your wrist tightening with each passing second. you couldn’t help but wince, squirming in his hold as you were forced to match his hurried pace.
“ace, it fucking hurts.” you snapped, yanking your arm free from his grasp. he glanced down at you, his eyes still smoldering with anger and something else, something you couldn’t identify properly.
shit, he was pissed. and hot as hell if you were being honest with yourself.
sighing, you rubbed your wrist as you continued walking beside him, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing. the dorm building loomed ahead, a sanctuary from the chaos of the crowded quad.
he followed you in, his footsteps heavy and measured as he trailed behind you. the old wooden floors creaked beneath your combined weight, the sound echoing off the barren walls.
a wave of relief washed over you as you pushed open the door to your room, the dim glow of the string lights casting a soft ambiance over the small space. without thinking, you stepped inside. turning to face ace as he hovered in the doorway.
“hey, i.. i just wanna say thank you,” you murmured, and you didn’t know what came over you. maybe it was the mood, but you leaned in to press a soft kiss on his cheek and your heart raced as you pulled back, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.
ace’s gaze darkened, his pupils dilating as he studied you intently. in one swift motion, he stepped forward, backing you up until your back hits the wall. his large hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
you gasped against his mouth, your fingers curling into the leather of his jacket. he tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, the combination sending a jolt of adrenaline straight to your core.
“i’m not letting anyone else touch you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “you’re mine, you hear me? all fucking mine.”
a shiver ran down your spine, your body responding to the dominance and possession in his tone. you arched into him, your chest pressing against his as you wound your arms around his neck.
ace’s hands drifted up to your sides, his calloused thumbs brushing over the swell of your chest. he cupped them in his palms, kneading the soft flesh as he deepened the kiss.
breaking away with a low groan, he began trailing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your racing pulse. you tilted your head back, giving him better access as your fingers tangled in his dark hair.
“tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, his breath hot against your skin. “tell me you belong to me,” his voice almost sounded as if he was begging, pleading to be yours once and for all.
maybe it was the influence of alcohol, but you couldn’t help but be swayed by him. he’s hurt you in the past, but he’s changed in the present, right? “i’m yours,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “all yours.”
ace shuddered against you, one hand drifting down to palm your ass. he squeezed the globes, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. you did so without hesitation now, locking your ankles behind his back as he began to walk you towards the bed.
he lowered you down onto the mattress, his large frame covering yours as he settled between your spread thighs. somehow, even in the throes of passion, he was gentle. careful.
he hovered over you, his elbows resting on either side of your head s he studied your face. a lock of hair fell into his eyes, his jaw clenched tight as he fought for control.
he leaned down, pressing a feather-light kiss to your lips, your cheek, your jaw, until he reached the sensitive spot behind your ear. you whimpered, your hips bucking up against his as he sucked and nibbled on the sensitive flesh.
ace’s hand slide under the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers splaying across the small of your back. he caressed the smooth skin there, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
slowly, torturously so, he peeled off your shirt and tossed it somewhere across the room. the cool air kissed your heated skin, your nipples pebbling beneath the heat of his gaze.
he took a moment to admire you, his dark eyes roaming every inch of exposed skin. a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his gaze now clashing with yours.
“fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. “i can’t believe you’re mine.”
he dipped his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of your chest. he nuzzled into the valley between them, breathing in your scent as his relishes on the sole factor he has you now.
he looked at your chest once more before dipping down and drawing one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling gently. you cried out, arching into him as sparks of pleasure shot through you.
he took his time with you, lavishing attention on each chest until they glistened with his saliva. your hands slid into his hair, gripping the strands tightly as you held him against you.
slowly, he kissed his way down your stomach, dipping his tongue into your navel before continuing his path south. he tugged your jeans and underwear down your legs, tossing them carelessly onto the floor.
now bare before him, you squirmed beneath his heated gaze. the ache between your thighs was impossible to ignore, your core throbbing with the need for his touch.
ace settled between your legs, his broad shoulders pushing them further apart as he leaned in to press a kiss to your sex. you whimpered, your head falling back against the pillow as you arched into his touch.
his fingers trailed down your stomach before brushing against your tight hole. you were dripping, your arousal coating his fingers as he took a good look at the mess you’ve made just from his touches.
he leaned in, breathing hotly against the sensitive hole before drawing it into his mouth. he took in the scent of you deeply, his tongue flicking out to circle around your hole rapidly.
your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping the strands tightly as you ground your hips against his face. ace groaned, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
he pulled away from your hole, seeing the slick he made before his fingers circled around your entrance. a single digit entered you, pumping in and out of your clenching walls slowly.
“fuck, you’re so tight,” ace murmured, his voice muffled by your thighs. “so fucking perfect.”
he added a second finger, scissoring them inside you as he curled them upwards to stroke the spot that makes you see stars. your inner muscles clenched down around the invading digits, drawing them in deeper.
ace worked a third finger finger alongside the others, his thrusts picking up speed and intensity. his other hand pressed down on your abdomen, making sure you feel every bit of his touch.
you were already so close to the edge, his ministrations pushing you rapidly towards your peak. your thighs began to tremble, your toes curling in your socks as the tension in your belly coiled tighter and tighter.
“gonna.. gonna cum..” you gasped out, your grip on his hair tightening. “oh fuck, ace!”
your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your spine arching off the bed as you screamed your release. ace continued his ministrations throughout your climax, drawing out every last drop of pleasure from your spasming body.
finally, after what felt like an eternity, your body went limp. you collapsed back against the mattress, chest heaving and skin slicked with sweat.
he crawled up you body, his weight settling on top of you as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. you could taste yourself on his lips and it only field your desire.
he settled between your thighs, the rough denim of his jeans scraping deliciously against your sensitive skin. you could feel his arousal pressing against your belly, hard and insistent.
he broke the kiss to sit back on his heels, his hands gripping the waistband of his jeans. he unbuttoned them quickly, shoving the fabric down his thighs until he could kick them off onto the floor.
black hair trailed down from his abdomen and disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers. he dipped a hand beneath the fabric, pulling out his hard, aching cock.
he stroked it a few times, his fist pumping up and down the thick length. your mouth watered at the sight, your tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips.
he tossed his boxers aside, leaving him bare before you. he settled between your thighs once more, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance teasingly.
with a swift snap of his hips, he buried himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick girth. a groan tore from his throat, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the feeling of your wet heat engulfing him.
he began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. his pace was gentle, almost tender, as if he was being careful not to hurt you.
your fingers slid up and down the muscles of his back, feeling them flex and tense with each roll of his hips. he leaned down to capture your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours.
the kiss turned heated, turning frantic and desperate as ace increased his pace. your hips rose up to meet his, drawing him in deeper, harder, faster.
the feeling of his skin against yours, his muscles flexing and rolling beneath your palms, his breath coming out in harsh pants against your cheek, it was all too much.
you could feel another orgasm building, the tension in your belly coiling tighter and tighter. your walls began to flutter, clenching down around ace’s pistoning length.
“fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, his voice strained. “fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
he slammed into you two more times before stilling, his body going rigid above you. with a low, guttural moan, he came, his release sputing hot and deep inside you.
you clung to him as he twitched and shuddered through his climax, your inner muscles milking every last drop from his pulsing cock.
finally, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. ace collapsed on top of you, his sweaty skin sticking to yours as he fought to catch his breath.
he lifted his head to look at you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction, awe, and a hint of something else.
“you’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low and heavy. “all mine.”
you could only nod, a small smile tugging at your kiss-swollen lips. you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him down for a slow, sensual kiss and… he’s hard again. you could feel it in your tummy.
well, now you know he definitely has a high libido. you just hope you could walk tomorrow for class.
Summary: You been having an affair knowingly with a married man. Fortunately his wife finds out and teaches you a lesson that doesn’t quite go accordingly to plan.
Warning: Smut with no plot. This is fake. Not real. Don’t do this in real life. Dead dove do not eat.
Taboo: Cheating + Domination + non con
“How could you just sleep with a married man?” She yells, and you can do nothing more than flinch away at her tone that cracks down at you like a whip. Her eyes bore into you for answers and you have non to offer her… at least, non-that she’d be happy to hear. “Well? I’m waiting.” She pushes, causing you to shrink, wishing nothing more than for the ground to part and swallow you whole.
This was meant to be the last time. It was just meant to be a one-night stand— nothing more. But somehow you got sucked in by his heavy cock which just seemed to curl right into a spot that made your knees weak.
You saw the ring, but… your pussy hadn’t been touched in so long. Besides, someone’s marriage terms was non-of-your business. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
Well, regardless, he insisted meeting you at the club, no harm right? Until he convinced you to come back to his home— just one last fuck. He hadn’t anticipated his wife’s unexpected return home from her business trip.
As soon as she entered through main door, catching you two locking lips on her brand new couch, he scurried away like a cowardly rat. Tossing you in the deep end on a wildly uncomfortable confrontation.
“I should go home.” You say abruptly, attempting to stand up only for his wife’s manicured hands slam against you, pushing you back down onto the couch.
“You’re not going anywhere.” She announces. Looming from above, looking down at you like the trash you are. “Think you can just fuck my husband and get away with it?”
“We didn’t even—“
“Spare me! I know you two have been messing around for a while!” She snaps, leaning down until her icy eyes were on level with yours. “I knew there was something going on! I just couldn’t figure out when or who it was.”
“Yes, okay, I admit I did know he was married but I would’ve fucked anyone.” You try to reason. As if those words were remotely reassuring.
“So you’re just a desperate slut?” She asks. Knee dropping between your legs, her figure hovering above you, invading all of your personal space. “Actions have consequences— you’re in dire need of punishment.” She threatened, her face now mere millimetres from your own.
“I’m sorry.” You whimper, icy fear spilling down your spine at the terrifying heat behind her eyes.
“It’s too late for apologies — you’re going to be begging me for mercy.”
Before you knew what was happening, her hands flew to the hem of your mini club dress, pulling the fabric harshly up your body, her hands beneath your legs, cupping the back of your knees and shoving them up to your head until you topple backwards. Lounging back into the couch as your flimsy panties are suddenly shoved to the side, a finger harshly shoving into your cunt, her fingers harshly pumping into your needy core causing you to whine out at the sudden intrusion. Her dry fingers burned, but your lingering arousal from kissing quickly coated her fingers.
“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your words drying in your throat as you feel a harsh lick along your cunt.
“You’re a filthy slut— I’m going to do society a favour by fucking you so good, you won’t dare to think of fucking another married man again.” She spits down your legs. Her fingers continuing to bully your cunt, her tongue suddenly sucking and flicking at your hardened clit.
“F-f-fuck!” You cry out, one hand flying to the back of the couch, bracing for the violent pleasure being forced upon you. Your other hand flying down between your legs, grabbing a fistful of her hair between your fingers as the unexpected heat pooled in the pit of your stomach threatening to break under the combination of your pussy being licked and the her fingers jamming into your pussy. “Mhh gonna cum!” You whine out as your orgasm rockets through your body.
You still feel the adrenaline coursing through your body, your orgasm still lapsing. As soon as you open your eyes, you’re greeted with a bare pussy being shoved onto your face. “Eating me out is the least you could do.” She commands. Her ass just barely hovering above your face.
When did she get naked?
“Huh?” You ask dumbly.
“Hurry up and lick my pussy already!” She demands. Her fingers already moving towards your clit to rub teasing circles. “Ever since you’ve been sneaking around with my husband— my needs have been neglected— taking care of me is the least you could do.”
You’ve never had sex with a woman before. You can’t help but feel the rising competitive need to give the best cunnilingus she ever had.
Your hands fly up to grip her hips. Anchoring her to your mouth as you make a long lick and begin to lap up her soaking pussy as she moans and rubs your clit mindlessly. “That’s it— just like that-“ she praises, rocking her hips as you lick her up. Tongue flicking rapidly to find the best rhythm. “Good little slut!” She praises, her hips rocking more harshly. “Yeah! Feels good!” She praises again, fingers sliding teasingly to your folds again. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Fuck— you’re a good little slut aren’t you?” She praises, sinking a digit into your clenching organ. “Your pussy is fluttering. This is turning you on isn’t it? Eating me out with I play with you.” She teases, slowly dragging her finger out of your hole as you moan out, your sounds muffled by her core sinking into your mouth. “Fuck! You’re really good at this! Mh—gonna—“ her voice cuts off as she releases an ungodly sound mixed between a gasp and a groan.
The sound she made caused your brain to blank completely, your mind solely focused on hearing that symphony again. Your tongue begins to flick, lick, your mouth sucking and moving vigorously against her core, “Wait! I’ve already!” She screams out. You’re not sure what she’s saying exactly.
Unable to make sense of her words, which were nothing more than a far away cry. Right now, your arms remain impossibly locked around her hips as she struggles to escape your mouth that continues to lap up her sensitive organ.
You wanted hear it again.
That sound— the one you caused her to make.
Just one more time and you’ll stop.
“Wait! Too much! Mh gonna cum again!” She cry’s out. And the only thing that made you stop was the sudden wetness dripping down your face. Confused, you halt your actions as you feel her pulling away from your face. “You stupid slut! I told you to stop!” She scolds. But her angry tone falls flat as you look at her completely flushed. Her face painted with humiliation.
“What’s the matter?” You ask, sitting up and crawling towards her. “I’m not done.” You say, as if in a trance, you begin to crouch again between her legs. “Just one more.” You state, your eyes dragging across her soaking cunt.
“Can’t!” She called out pathetically, her legs already begin to spread, at your silent demands. Your fingers grazing along her inner thigh, on a mission to sink your digit into her fluttering pussy as she whines out. Her body completely collapses onto the couch as you finger her into submission.
“What’s the matter? Thought you were going to fuck the slut out of me.” You taunt, shoving in another finger as she cry’s out. “Now look at you— you’re just laying there whilst I play with your pussy.”
“You little bitc— AHH!” She cry’s out as your mouth suddenly latches onto her nipple, sucking, your teeth grazing the sensitive area as your other free hand flies to her other boob, pinching and pulling at her flushed chest. You feel her pussy suddenly clench down onto your fingers, feeling her rearing the edge.
“Go on, cum on my fingers.” You coax as she screams out, her essence coating you once again as pleasurable waves hit her. She pants, her body slick with sweat as you sit up. Looking down at her disappointedly. “Not giving up already are you? You’re so fucked out you can’t even understand a word I’m saying, do you?” You hum as she just stares back at you with blown out eyes. “What a disappointment… I only made you cum a couple times and you’re acting like I made you run for 3 days straight…Do you think your husband is still around? Maybe he could finish the job.” You ask, a devious smile curling on your lips as you see the panic rising in her eyes, but her body is so limp she just stares up at you as your gaze turns away from her, now seeing him re-enter the room.
“Colour me surprised my naughty little mistress,” he greets, striding towards you with that intense bravado. “I was expecting to return to a crime scene but here I find my cum drunk wife sprawled across the couch — and my lover looking disappointed.” He coos, a hand running down your back.
“You abandoned me!” You reprimand, pouting, but not protesting how he’s slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
“So I did darling— but I had no way of knowing this is how’d things go.” He says, his belt clinking as he slowly pulls it off.
“You think I’m just going to let you fuck me after this?” You spit as he chuckles, already pushing your shoulder down, your body moving amicably into the position he wants to you in.
“Of course you would— judging by my wife’s state, she didn’t finish the job.” He announces looking over at her fucked out face, tears welling up in the corners. “Sorry sweets, but I’ll just have to finish what you started.” He says, holding her eye contact as he lines himself up, and sinks into you inch by inch.
Summary: An erotica on Y/n being a college student and seducing her frienemy/ Roommate Beth.
Taboo: Non Con + Somnophilia
“And then Kai tells me that he can’t sleep with me anymore because now he has this new girl he’s hooking up with, that he’s all into!” Beth vents, pacing back and forth between their shared room. “After months of his saying he can’t commit to me, and now he’s going and committing to some other bitch! Can you believe that?!”
You shake your head, Acting surprised. But you can believe it considering you’ve been sneaking around and hooking-up with Beth’s booty call behind her back for weeks now.
You wouldn’t have done it if you realised how much Beth fell for her fuck-buddy… maybe…
“And I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I fell in-love with my fuck buddy or that I now can’t have the best sex of my life anymore!” Beth whines, finally collapsing onto her bed with a cry. “That dick was 11 inches of pure pleasure.” Beth whines again.
“O.M.G Bethy, I cannot believe you’re getting so bent out of shape for. You’re like super hot, there are so many other men in this campus you could be fucking.” You say, but Beth only shakes her head.
“He’s seriously the best sex I’ve ever had, I won’t feel that kind of pleasure again.” You understand where Beth is coming from, good sex is hard to come by, and Kai is definitely an Olympic pussy athlete from your experience, but then again, he’s not the only sex-god on planet earth.
“Don’t be so dramatic Bethy, heaps of other people can make you cum just like Kai could.” But Beth shakes her head in denial again.
“He’d always make sure I cum every time we had sex.” You tilt you head in confusion on this statement.
“Well duh, that’s like standard.” But Beth groans.
“No, it’s so hard for me to cum, but Kai always got me there.” Your ditzy self still cannot comprehend this.
“What are you even on about Bethy? Even I could make you cum at least 3 times.” But Beth scoffs at your claim.
“As if.” Beth scoffs, which blows your ego.
It’s been hours since your girl talk with Beth who is now sound asleep in bed. But her scoff and ‘as if’ statement still reels your mind.
It’s not hard to make someone cum, if only you can prove it to Beth… you roll over, glaring at Beth and realised… maybe you can prove it to her.
Your heart flutters slightly at the idea of making Beth moan. The unexplored taboo makes you a little excited.
Tip toeing from your bed you stand over Beth’s sleeping form. You know from experience that Beth is a heavy sleeper, and there is just something so hot about making Beth waking to her pussy cumming.
Slowly pulling back Beth’s blanket, you find her pyjama clad body.
Your fingers slowly reaching down and lightly grazing at Beth’s boobs through her shirt, her hardening nipple pebbling under your padded fingers. Beth sighs in contentment, encouraging you to explore further.
Your slowly grab the neckline of Beth’s pyjama top and slowly yank it down, letting her jiggly tits spill out.
You never thought yourself to find women hot, but there’s just something about Beth’s body that is turning you on.
You begin to pinch and tease Beth’s tits before leaning down and giving a teasing lick to her nipple, eliciting an airy sigh.
Before you know it, your pinching and sucking at Beth’s tits as they swell at your sucking and teasing. You’re honestly surprised Beth hasn’t woken up to your touches.
You feel yourself slowly growing wet from Beth’s fidgeting and sighing. Excited to see Beth’s reaction, you finally move on from her bruising chest and slowly begin to pull down Beth’s pyjama shorts. Your fingers grazing up Beths inner thigh, and sliding your fingers past her outer lips to feel Beth’s sopping wet slit.
Your chest grows warm with pride knowing you made Beth wet.
You slide your fingers away from Beth’s slit and land your finger onto Beth’s swollen clit, drawing tantalising circles on her clit. Hovering over Beth, you slowly lean down to continue sucking, teasing and licking Beth’s tits as she moans lowly at your fingers rubbing Beth’s clit.
You giggle to yourself looking at Beth’s sleepy form moaning and twitching under your fingers. You begin to speed up feeling Beth’s body now arching off the bed and shuttering. Beth’s clit now spasming under your fingers.
Orgasm one is now completed, now for orgasm number two.
You check to see if Beth is still sleeping, only to see her eyes still remaining close. You slowly crawl up the between Beth’s thick thighs, settling on your stomach and eying the mess she made from your fingers.
Leaning down you provide a testing kitten lick to Beth clit.
Her wet pussy taste better than any spunk you’ve ever swallowed. You honestly can’t believe any man resists eating pussy if this is what cunt taste like. You eagerly lean your mouth back down to Beth core, licking a long deep stripe along to entrance of her pussy to the pearl of her clit, ensuring to run a long circle around her squishy pearl. Her clit is still sensitive from earlier making her shutter, so you continue to tongue fuck Beth hole, and licking her folds as her hips rock into your tongue.
You cannot believe Beth is still sleeping through your pussy eating performance. If Beth is still sleeping through this, there is no way she’s waking up for anything. Your feel her clit has hardened once again, your hands grabbing either side of her hips, shoving and tilting her clit right into your eager mouth, licking, sucking and sliding her tasty cunt as she moans and rives. Her hole begins clutching at nothing.
You’re completely lost in her pussy, forgetting to be gentle and slow with Beth’s sleepy form, you take your desperate fingers and shove them into Beth’s empty slippery hole. You feel her cunt clench tightly around your fingers, as you begin to sporadically pump your fingers in and out of her cunt, and continue to vigourously suck and lick her tasty clit. Forgetting to pay attention to Beth’s reactions. You lock her hip in place, mouth sucking mindlessly and finger pummelling Beth g-spot. Too pussy drunk to notice or hear Beth’s pleasured moaning. You didn’t even realise Beth cummed until she was cumming hard all over you. Her squirting cunt dousing you in her heavenly essence.
You look up at Beth and see her own eyes remain closed as her heaving chest desperately searches for air.
Your mindlessly turned on, and desperately want to cum yourself, but don’t feel like your own fingers will be satisfying enough, you want Beth to fuck you some way somehow. But if Beth still didn’t wake up to your showering performance. Then nothing will.
You dive for your bed side table, pulling out a double sided vibrating dildo. You thank yourself for purchasing such a toy. Retreating back to Beth’s soaked bed.
You slip the toy between Beth’s swollen pussy lips, sliding the tip between her folds until it was nice and wet before pushing the tip into Beth’s cunt. Climbing into the bed, you positioned your scissored legs between Beth, sliding the toy into your own neglected dripping cunt until your hips meet with Beth’s own sopping box.
You smoosh your clit into Beth’s clit before turning on the dildos vibrating feature.
Rewarding yourself by laying on your back and grinding into Beth’s only mindless hips grinding away at yours.
Both bucking, grind, vigorously into eachother, seeking an orgasm of your own building up at the pit of your stomach. You mindlessly moan harmoniously with Beth as you both speed up you bouncing and grinding.
“Oh, fuck.” You moan once again feeling you cunt clinch and clamp at the toy until the coil in your stomach snaps making you squirt and buck all over Beth and in return, Beth squirts her own essence all over you.
Your nerves jolt and spasm as your shaky hands seek the off switch for the toy. Finally turning off the vibration, sighing in satisfaction as Beth’s form continues to sleep in each others wetness.
You finally, extract the toy which causes Beth the whimper.
Looking down at your work, you take in the imagine of Beth’s red painted cheeks, her swollen wet tits, her sweaty body and her sticky thighs smeared and coated in hers and yours pussy juices.
Quickly whipping yourself down before jumping into bed and having the most blissful sleep of your life.
Beth waited 10 minutes until your breaths fall deep and elongated before rolling off the bed and seeing how wet her bed cover sheets are.
She sighs stripping off the sheets and replacing the covers with fresh crisp sheets.
Beth doesn’t even bother crawling in bed again. It’s 5am now and her freshly serviced cunt is in need for a shower. Beth cannot believe she cummed so much, so hard and cannot believe how stupid her bimbo roommate is.
How anyone could seriously believe that Beth was still sleeping after feeling finger graze her tits is beyond her. Beth maybe a heavy sleeper, but that’s in terms of noise. Once her sleepy brain zonks out for the night, Beth cannot hear anything. But touching, that’s a whole different story.
And frankly, Beth was a little surprised she let you continue your antics considering she’s never once been into girls. But after your pussy skills, Beth now understands the lesbian appeal.
And whilst Beth still doesn’t care of other girls, she certainly wouldn’t mind fucking you again. But there is really no way Beth would ever stand the humiliation of admitting she’d want to fuck the college slut.
The steam shower turns on as Beth continues to mull over ideas on how to fuck you without you realising she wants it.
Maybe she will just tell you she has recently started sleep walking and having sex… Beth momentarily waves off the stupid idea before remembering that you’re a moron and will believe her.
Then it’s settled, when you wake up. Beth will tell you all about this new disorder that makes her have sex in her sleep.
Summary: Darling that instigates intimacy first for the first time
Taboo: Captive + Dub Con
“I’m home.” You jolt at the sudden sound of his voice announcing his arrival. His voice echoing through the dark halls your shared home until it reached past the frame to your bedroom.
You sit up from the bed, where the crisp sheets enveloped your sleepy form just moments prior. Your mind not quite settling back into reality just yet as the disorientation of waking up in a dark home hits you. The golden afternoon sun now long gone.
Your mind was still recovering from blissful dream you were having. A startlingly different reality to the one you’re living now.
In your dream, the man that has held you captive from the world was a kind, gentle, loving husband. Normal in every way, in every standard there is. Someone you chose to be with. He won your heart the way most couples do, with terrible flirting, endless dates and copious amounts of affection.
The dream version of him has your heart panging painfully against your chest. He had the face of your captor, but, in your dream, he was so loveable.
Your mind continues swimming in an array of confusion.
“Darling?” He calls out. You don’t miss the panicked shake of his voice when you do not answer. Raising a knuckle to your eye as you rub the sleep away. Mind still turned to a dream you ardently wished was your reality. “Oh there you are.” He sighs with a great deal of relief. Stepping forward towards your bed, sitting right on the edge as you drop your hand away from your eyes and towards his chest, to feel the heavy thumps of panic subsiding back to its steady rhythm. “What time did you go to sleep? The house is pitch black.” He asks.
“Mh… I dunno… it was in the afternoon.” Your voice dripping with that sleepy rumble.
His hand moves to the top of your head, a throaty chuckle escaping his throat as he pulls your head in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Yeah? Must’ve been a good dream then.”
You nod, pulling the blanket down a bit more. “Yeah. You were in it.”
If at all possible, something resembling a dogs ears perks up at your proclamation. His eyes widening slightly, his back straightening out as he tries to sound as casual as possible.
“Oh yeah? What were you dreaming about?” He asks, but the way he was leaning in keenly gave away any sense of casualness.
“You were my husband,” you say, and he nods, “and we were happy.” He nods again, less enthusiastically.
You pause, unsure how to say the next part.
Because the dream was more like … a wet dream.
You and your captor, married in bliss, sharing an erotic moment, filled with passion and love. He rocked into you like you gently with immense care, whilst you chased your high with him beneath you. Your hands pressed upon his chest, and his hands gripping your hips. You had leant down, just mere inches from his lips when you were awoken abruptly.
You want to revisit that moment.
Feel that feeling.
You look up at his eyes, when you made a decision.
You sat up completely, hands greedily reaching out to cradle his neck and jaw as you pulled him forward, his lips crashing upon your own as you kissed him with a heat of passion you never expected to.
You want that reality.
You want it so bad. The experience the same scene in real life.
Maybe, for just a moment in time, you could live that reality. Even if it’s make believe. You’ll indulge yourself, just this once.
You break the kiss first, just long enough to move into his lap, perching yourself onto his thighs. Watching his hands absently guide to there. His eyes still closed, as if afraid to open them and see his dream vanishing right before his eyes.
“I could tell you but I’d rather just show you.” You whisper, leaning back in and capturing his lips as your grind down into his lap.
He releases an ungodly moan, laced with want and yearning and praise.
Gripping the back of your thighs, he rolls you both over, your back planted against the mattress once again as his hands blindly work to remove the fabric barricading him from your heavenly core.
As soon as he manages to shuck your panties off, your thighs split open, desperately inviting him in to explore. His fingers grazing the inner thigh until he skims your folds and shutters at his wet you already feel. His fingers moving to slide between your crease, coaxing your slick around before submerging a finger into your tight hole.
“You’re…” he whispers, peppering a trail of kisses down your jaw. “So wet…” he announces, licking a stripe up your neck before sucking on a sensitive nerve that has you whining out. “God— you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his fingers now picking up speed, pumping in and out. “So good to me— you’re a fucking goddess— so perfect, you deserve to be fucking worshipped.” you curl into him, your hips bucking up as your climax begins to reach. “I gotta have you,” he exclaims, pulling his fingers out quickly, fumbling for his belt and zipper with a rush of urgency. “Gotta be inside,” your legs snap shut at his sudden departure.
You don’t answer. Just staring up at him, wanting to maintain the pace of passion and softness before he descends into a carnal animal that bullies his cock into you like he does every other time.
He just looks down at you with utter desperation. Not a care in the world if you changed your mind. You’ve sparked hunger in a starving man and he’ll do whatever it takes to get a taste of the forbidden fruit.
Instead you do something far more erotic.
You spread your knees as wide as you could manage, laying yourself completely exposed. A quiet invitation.
“I fucking love you.” He growls, crawling back on top of you, jerking slowly to alleviate the throbbing of his painful erection.
“Slow.” You whisper your condition, your hand flying down to grasp him and line him up. You’re asking a lot from him. To slowly sink into your core at a snails pace and you’re being so wet and inviting.
But regardless, he heeds your commands. Sinking one painful inch after another and right when there’s nothing left to bury in you. You let out the softest, breathiest sigh of relief which does nothing but sends shockwaves of want down his spine, his brain screaming for him to pummel you into the bed. But the satisfied look of fullness on your face keeps him anchored to this moment.
Your hands release its grip on the sheets, which you had not even noticed you were doing. Hands falling back into its place on the cusp of his jaw. “Just like that.” You praise, eyes rolling shut as your body rolls a grinding wave. “Rock into me slowly yeah?”
He whimpers, feeling torn between his need to fuck you senseless and his need to praise your body.
Somehow he manages to pull back ever so slightly before sinking back in. The slow and intentional movements sending utter shockwave through your core causing you to release a long quiet moan.
And he swears he could cum to your sounds alone.
To hear his darling make such sinful sounds from the softest of touches.
But he cannot finish so early.
Who knows if you’ll ever be so pliant again.
He needs to indulge in this fantasy for as long as humanly possible.
So he does just that. Rocking slowly into your soppy core as you moan and meet his movements back with a long drawn out grind.
“Kiss me?” You ask, looking at him through your lashes and he swears his heart gave out right then and there.
He leans down, not daring to make you wait another second as he kisses with a soft firmness until your kisses grow more feverish, your moans muffled between your connected mouths until your head drops away.
Your body craning away from his, your back arching as your grind thrusts meeting his own grows more erratic.
“Yeah—yeah—just like that!” You praise, eyes screwing shut as waves of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your pussy gripping down harshly until your core flutters in satisfaction of your release.
You barely notice the ungodly groan echoing through your ear as his shuttering body drops ontop of you like dead weight. The oddly comforting feeling of his weight pressing on top of you.
He doesn’t speak.
Too fucked out to comprehend life, let alone words.
And you couldn’t be more satisfied.
Allowing yourself to live this delusion a little bit longer before the reality sets back in.
Summary: Yandere kidnaps darling. A woman he’s been obsessed over… only problem is that she’s a nympho — a complete freak
A/n: idea taken from this post
Taboo: Captive + Non Con
Yan had no idea what kind of woman you were
He just saw you and fell in love
You’re just so pretty
He had to have you
And so he did— plucked you from the dark street where not a soul could witness your capture
After parking the van he crawls in the back where your wriggle and struggle in your constraints
Gag still tucked between your lips, muffling any sounds you make
Yan! Who rips all your clothes off and lines himself up
Yan! Who sinks into your core and begins to thrusts. Getting real caught up in the heat of kidnapping you and having sex with you— the excitement hits him hard
Yan! Who quickly unloads into you at the rush of it all— but no matter, he can just use you whenever he—
Darling! Whines out since Yan! Stopped thrusting
Yan! Who’s looking down at darling, completely absorbed with the sound you just made
Darling! Who bucks her hips up, trying coax him to keep going
Yan! Confused— but begins to thrusts his sensitive cock into darling especially with how needy she’s acting
Darling! Who’s releasing muffled moans, back arching, hips bucking up chasing her own high as Yan!comes undone again
Yan! Who sits back on his heels, feeling completely spent as he pulls your gag from your mouth
Summary: Y/n must be loosing her mind because… she’s kind of enjoying being held captive
Taboo: Stockholm Syndrome
Now Y/n must be loosing her mind … because at some point she’s realised she actually enjoys being held captive
It was terrifying at first. Anyone would be when they’re kidnapped, thinking of being tortured and murdered.
Except your captor didn’t want to do that to you
He was in love with you
… not in any healthy way, but in love regardless
He wanted to keep you in his space, observe you, hold you, kiss you, make love to you whenever he wanted
So that’s what he did
Abducted you from your decrepit apartment, where the bills were quickly stacking up and you were struggling to make ends meet
In a way, this was a blessing in disguise
You had no bills
No dead end jobs to work endlessly
No crippling debts
Instead, you were kept in a basement— but a renovated basement with a kitchenette, living room, bedroom, bathroom and small indoor garden with a goldfish pond… random but cute
Your wardrobe is an assortment of clothes from brands you follow and liked on social media
Your entertainment was endless piles of books you’ve been meaning to read and shows you’ve been meaning to watch
When you grew restless, your Yan built you a hobby room
When you hear him coming to visit you, you race to the door now, excited to see him, and see what presents await for you to open
All of this in exchange of… well.. sex…
Your Yan would give you anything on the condition that you sexually satisfy him
It was confronting at first
But he’s very enthusiastic about your body
You kind of… look forward to it
After all… he always makes sure you finish
These days you don’t even wait for him to initiate
As soon as that gnawing need to be filled hits you, you crawl into his lap and bounce until you have no thoughts left to have
Right now you’re curled up against him, sweating and slightly sticky from your endeavours
(He’s a fucking loser but he’s hot and down bad. And a total virgin.)
You didn’t expect to fuck him.
He’s a little too quiet. A little too intense. The guy who watches you like you invented the color red. Always hovering at the edges of rooms, starving. Your voice makes him flinch. Your body makes him twitch.
You noticed it—how he always seemed to know your schedule before you did. How he’d bump into you too often.
You weren’t supposed to say yes.
But tonight? You were bored.
Curious. Cruel.
You whispered: “Fine. Let’s see if you’re as desperate as you look.”
And now?
You’re between his legs. Back against his chest. Your thighs spread. His hands all over you. His breath is already ragged. You haven’t even touched him.
He’s got one hand sliding between your thighs, the other palming your breast like he doesn’t know whether to squeeze or sob. You feel the tremble in his fingers—the awe, the disbelief.
His thumb finds your clit and he gasps. You’re soaked. For him.
“Oh my god,” he whispers into your neck. “You’re really letting me—fuck—you’re actually—” He cuts off with a choked moan, his lips dragging over your skin, his teeth scraping your shoulder like he wants to bite, but doesn’t dare.
He rubs you with shaky, frantic circles. Clumsy, but desperate. Desperate to please you. To make you cum. To make it count.
“You’re so soft—so warm—so wet, holy fuck-I’ve thought about this every night since I first saw you. I know your scent. I fucking know the way your heels sound in the hallway—”
You arch your back, lips parting. He moans—like you’re hurting him just by existing.
“You let me touch you… You don’t know what that does to me, Bunny. I’d kill someone if they even looked at this pussy now. You understand that?”
He’s rubbing harder now, his breath catching every time your hips twitch. His other hand slides down to your stomach, pressing you back into his lap so you feel how hard he is.
“You can’t leave after this. I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
You cum hard.
Harder than you meant to. Harder than you should, considering the freak behind you.
Your head falls back on his shoulder.
Your whole body tenses—legs shaking, clit throbbing against his fingers as you grind against his palm. You cry out. And he moans with you. Louder. Needier. Like your orgasm is his.
“Yes. Yes—fuck—thank you. Thank you for letting me. Thank you—thank you—thank you—*”
He’s crying. Literally. Holding you like you’re a fever dream and the second he lets go, you’ll disappear.
Darling! who has been isolated with her Yan! for so long, she’s desperate for any type of escape
Darling! Who notices that her Yan! Always uses a condom
Darling! Who realises that getting pregnant might be the solution to her problems. She will need to go to the hospital at some point, or even register the baby’s birth
Darling! Who never instigates sex with Yan! And he’s confused.
Darling: What’s the matter? Don’t you want to make love to me?
Yan: O-of course I do honey… I’m just surprised is all.
Yan! Who’s completely flustered with your sudden affection.
Yan! Who whimpers when you pull the condom off.
Darling: I want to feel you raw, please
Yan! Who’s about to explode at those words alone
Darling: Cum inside me please!
Yan! Who’s so overjoyed that he doesn’t think it though as he plows your gummy walls that’s inviting him in for the first time.
Yan! Who wakes up to you riding him raw in the morning
Yan! Who returns home to you begging for him to rail you
Yan! Who thinks you finally accepted your fate
Yan! Who gets suspicious when you start crying when your period starts.
Yan! Who found your search history on how to get pregnant
Yan! That now turns down your advances much to your utter disappointment
Yan! Thats in utter hell because you’re trying to seduce him whilst torturing himself to abstain
Summary: After enduring years of abuse from your mother, you find a very successful outlet to get her back for all those years of horror.
Warning: Please be reminded that the below story is a dark fantasy and is not a representation of a healthy relationship. The story contains dark themes including abuse, mental abuse, mental health issues, step-cest,step-father seduction, depictions of sex. Do not read if these themes make you uncomfortable. This is your final warning.
Taboo: Step-cest + cheating
“What the actual fuck is she doing here?” your sister spits, her voice low but venomous, her lips pulled taut into a sneer. A far cry from the easy grin she wore mere seconds ago.
You scramble to the window, heart hammering in your chest as you pray that it isn’t who you think it is. But the moment your eyes land on her, your stomach plummets.
There she is. Your mother.
You’re yanked from your thoughts by the sound of ragged breathing.
Your head snaps towards your sister. Her chest heaves, her hands trembling mid-air. Her eyes are locked on the figure outside, wide with horror. “S-s-she’s going to ruin it.” The words scrape out of her throat, her face flushing crimson as tears brim hot and fast. “She’s going to ruin my wedding!” The scream tears from her and her knees buckle. She crumples to the floor, and you drop with her, arms wrapping tight around her shaking frame. Bridesmaids rush in, crouching, grasping her hands, gripping her arms, anything to ground her, to keep her tethered.
“She’s not going to ruin anything, sis,” you murmur, forcing calm into your voice, holding her against you while her breaths come in wild, shallow pants. Knowing full well that your mother probably has 10 methods in her mind on how to ruin your sisters special day.
“She’s ruined my life before!” she sobs, voice breaking. “She’ll do it again!” Her mascara smears with every tear, black streaks running down her face.
“No, she won’t. I’ll get rid of her.” Your own resolve sharpens, seeing your baby sister fall apart so quickly. You’re ready to rise, to cast the beast out before she ruins her day just like every other time.
But your sister’s grip tightens on your hand. “No—wait! Don’t let Remy meet her!” Her voice is frantic, pleading, her words jagged with terror.
You squeeze her trembling hands, pressing a fierce kiss to the back of one. “Remy isn’t Michael. He won’t betray you—”
“She slept with my boyfriend, Y/n!” she wails, every word a knife through her. “I wouldn’t put it past her to try my fiancé!”
Her body goes limp against you, wracked with sobs. Around you, bridesmaids whisper frantic comforts, their hands smoothing hair, rubbing shoulders, clinging to her like anchors.
All of them fighting to pull her back into the moment her day, her joy before her mother poisons it too.
You’re torn between the urge to storm out and rip into your mother, and the aching need to whisper a thousand affirmations into your sister’s ear until she believes them.
Your chest burns with indecision. Feet frozen in place as your mind fails to make a decision.
Then sharp knocking jolts you from your spiral.
“Darling, are you in there?” Remy’s voice filters through the door, steady and warm. The room freezes. Even your sister’s sobs, suspended. “I saw this woman… she looks like—well, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
And just like that, a weight lifts.
“Don’t come in! I’m hideous!” your sister wails, scrambling toward the table scattered with make up.
“No one could ever outdo me in hideousness,” Remy replies without missing a beat, his voice teasing. “Not even when I dressed up in Santa Maria for the costume party—remember that?”A laugh bursts from your sister, broken, but it’s a laugh all the same. “And yet,” Remy goes on gently, “you stayed with me anyway, didn’t you?” Her laughter grows lighter. “Tell me you’re alright, darling, and I’ll wait for you at the altar. If you’re not… then I’ll wait right here. And hold you, if you’ll let me.”
Your sister steps toward the door, her palm pressing flat against the wood as though reaching for him through it. “I don’t want you to see me, Remy.”
“I won’t look, I promise. I just needed to hear you.”
Her throat tightens around the words. “I’m scared, Remy. She’s not supposed to be here.”
“I know, my sweet angel…” His tone softens, low and protective. “I thought that was her. I’ll make her leave—”
“No!” The cry rips from her, raw and panicked. “Don’t go anywhere near her!”
Silence presses on the other side of the door. Remy stills, his breath audible, as if weighing her terror in his hands.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to angel.” Remus deep steady voice echos through the door. “but I also don’t want your day ruined with her presence. Tell me what you want sweetheart— I’ll support whatever decision you make.
Your sister stares at her own reflection, before her eyes flicker to yourself. She takes a steady breath in.
“If we kick her out— she’ll make it the centre of drama. Just leave her, let her watch me be happy without her— in spite of everything her mother has done.
“Then I shall wait for you at the alter okay? I love you.” Remy calls out and your sister can’t help but laugh, her heart full of joy.
“I love you too!” She yells back. And just like that, the room was filled with light and joy once again.
The ceremony kicked off without a hitch.
Your mother and the man accompanying her were lost amongst the crowd. A sea of people concealing the unwanted.
Even if they were spotted, the bride and groom were too enraptured in the moment to notice. Eyes only lingering into each other. Hands clasped, kisses shared, infectious smiles that would even convince the most cynical people that soul mates are real.
As soon as the union was complete, the masses exited the venue, ready to move to the next location to celebrate their marriage in food, drinks and horrible dancing.
The wedding was glorious. The bride and groom perched on a long table, far from your mother’s grasp.
You’re not even sure if your sister remembers her untimely appearance.
But you sure do.
You eye the vulture stuffing her face all whilst the man departs their table and to the bar. Once he was alone, you approached him.
“So you’re our mother’s latest victim.” You announce. The man lifts a brow, turning towards you as you stand beside him.
His suit is freshly pressed, not a single wrinkle in sight. His cuff links are heavy, yet eye catching, his jawline sharp and his hair styled effortlessly, yet flawlessly. The cologne emanating off him was oddly intoxicating. If you were any more inebriated, you might’ve just pulled him in by his collar and take in a deep breath.
“Husband.” He corrects. His voice is so deep it almost rumbles. The kind of voice that’s woven with confidence and absolute authority. “I must say I’m quite surprised at how we were received today.” He hints and you merely shrug.
“If you haven’t noticed you’ve married a heinous woman by now, then I’m sorry to say the fault sits with you.” You say back. You look up at him through your lashes, and you don’t dare to miss the smirk growing across his face. The lack of defensive remarks tells you everything you need to know.
“So,” he begins, “what did she do that caused both of her daughters to hate her so?” He asks, tilting the crystal to his lips and sipping the whiskey.
You take a deep breath, leaning against the bar. “Our mother made it her personal mission to sleep with our boyfriends— she finally succeeded one time.” You look up at him, half expecting him to look indifferent, but, to your surprise, he grimaced.
“That’s a down right shame your girls endured such behaviours. I can understand why her daughters don’t talk to her anymore.” You hum in agreement.
“Tell me stranger, why’d you go ahead and marry her?” You ask, unable to piece together why someone so objectively handsome and seemingly put together would settle for some chaos magnet.
The man chuckled at your question. “Stranger huh?”
“Well I don’t even know your name.”
“Major Miles Evans.” He introduces himself, grinning at your surprised reaction.
“She always did have a thing for men in uniform.” You mutter. Looking back at him, “but you still haven’t answered my question.”
“It’s hard to say. I know there was a reason. I remember feeling like she was the one and only woman for me…” he says, eyes flicking down to his glass.
“But?”
“After we tied the knot it all fell apart after that.” He says, taking another swig of his drink. “She’s not the woman I fell for—“
“She probably got tired playing a character.” You finished, Miles nodding along like you hit the nail on the head.
“Something like that.” He mutters, placing the crystal down.
“My mother was always talented at finding treasure, but she was never good at keeping it.” You say.
Miles pauses, looking over his shoulder before turning his gaze to you.
“Treasure?”
“Yes major,” you laugh airily. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown two heads?”
“Never thought of myself as much of a prize.” He joked back, your hand falls onto of his. Hand still clutching the crystal like it’s a life line.
“You’re a major in the military, fit, handsome, well dressed, polite, kind, and you smell so good I’m half tempted to clutch you close like my personal candle.” You tease, biting down your lip, attempting to suppress the grin growing across your face at his reaction.
“Don’t go saying such sweet things to me now.” He says, but his hand isn’t moving away from yours.
“I’m just saying, Miles, if you were mine— I’d never let you go.” Miles leans in, as if entranced in your gaze. “Or at least, I’d give you a night you’d never forget.” You whisper.
Miles leans in just a little bit closer.
“Don’t tease me.” He says, his voice stern, dripping with want and you lean in closer than what would be appropriate.
“It’s only teasing if this goes no where… come to my room.” You coax and Miles inhales a sharp breath. “Please?” You ask, hand now trailing up his arm.
He looks over his shoulder one last time before looking back at you.
“If we are doing this… it’ll be over for your mother and I.”
You shrug, not giving a damn about how it’ll affect her.
“Do whatever you want Major— but I need you now.” You whisper back.
And just like that, he was yours.
The hotel door slammed shut behind you, your back hitting the wall with a thud as he caged you in, one hand cradling your jaw, while the other skimmed down to your hip, dragging you closer, fingers digging greedily into your flesh. He barely let you breathe before his mouth was on yours. Desperate, passionate kissing. His lips tasting faintly of whiskey and wedding cake.
The taboo nature of it all working you up more than you realised as you tug at the buttons of his dress shirt, frustrated when they refused to give fast enough. He groaned into your mouth, a sound equal parts amusement and impatience, and shoved your hands aside to rip the fabric open himself—buttons scattering across the carpet like confetti.
You laughed breathlessly against his lips, the sound muffled when he tilted your chin, kissing you deeper, rougher, until your knees wobbled. The world outside that room was the sounds of a union. The wedding, the music, the champagne-fueled chaos blurred into nothing as your focus turns completely to the mercy of Miles.
He picks you up by the back of your thighs. Unable to help but squeal at the sudden sensation of being airborne. He carries you the bed, dropping you carefully onto the crisp sheets as he cradles you close.
His hot kisses moving away from your mouth as he kisses down your neck, sucking slightly at your skin when he passes a spot that causes you to mewl. His hand sliding your brides make dress up your leg until it’s pooled around your stomach. You wait impatiently for the inevitable sensation of his hand caressing your core. Only, he must’ve been the world’s biggest tease as his hand sits on your hip like a weight, reminding you that it’s so close, yet so far.
You shrug the straps of your dress off, exposing your chest as his lips latch on to your mound. Writhing underneath the pleasure as your body can do no more but twitch and shutter at the sensation of is mouth working up your nerves. Your thighs joining together, rubbing as you feel the heat pool where you want him most.
“Miles…” you moan out, feeling slightly embarrassed at the implication of begging him for more.
“I got you.” He reassures, not making you dare beg for more. His fingers loop through the side of your panties as he pulls them down your legs. His palm sliding up the inner side of your leg, prying your thigh open as his hand slides closer and closer to your heat. His mouth latching to your neck once again, right onto the nerve that makes you moan, his tactile fingers gliding between your dewy folds before his finger slides in without warning, you moan you, your back arching off the bed as he plays with your cunt like an instrument. Each nerve pulled is like a string to your vocals.
“That’s the spot isn’t it.” He states, knowing full damn well that he’s found your g-spot in little to know time. So damn confident. Your hips lift from the bed, as you grind into his hand absentmindedly, your body completely lost in the thrill his hand is giving you right now.
“Yea-yeah! Right there!” You moan out, head tilting backwards, the coil in your stomach turning to a taut knot ready to snap at Miles as he fingers you with effortless resolve. You can’t believe you’re seeing stars already, your mind going blank as the Majors fingers continue to slide in and out of of soppy cunt as you come undone. “Mh— cumming!” You moan out and you can do nothing but grip his arm in ecstasy as you come completely undone. Your pussy gripping his fingers into place before fluttering at your release.
You pant in bliss, shock and bewilderment.
You’ve only just started and you’re already feeling incredibly fucked out and all it took with his fingers fucking you.
“Look at you.” He coo. Already sitting up, pulling at the belt locking his tented pants. “You look like a goddess and sound like one too.” He praises, pulling his large erection out. The heavy, stiff member slapping onto your stomach as you can do nothing more than dumbly part your knees further. “I’m just getting started.” A shiver shoots down your spine at his words, his cock head sliding up and down your folds, coaxing your essence to lubricate his mushroom head.
“Condom.” You mutter dumbly, unable to form proper sentences.
“No, I want to feel your cunt directly on my cock.” He says, still sliding between your folds as you can do nothing more but hum in submission. Not giving a damn at this point.
His tip catches your hole, he begins to slowly slide into your pussy, the stretch slightly uncomfortable, but your organ quickly adjusting to accommodate his size. Miles releases a heavy sigh as he sinks to the hilt, not leaving a single inch outside you pussy.
He grabs you by your hips as he begins to slowly rock into your cunt. The slow and intentional drag of his cock, touching every single nerve.
“Fuck!” You moan out, watching his dick disappear in between your legs. “You feel really fucking good.” You whine out, half wishing him to slam into you senselessly, half wishing he continues this slow, mind numbing thrusts.
“Yeah— you like that?” He teases, knowing full damn well you like that. His pace picking up ever so slightly as your mind struggles to keep up with his thurst. “You like your step-dad’s cock?” He asks and you just nod stupidly, your fingers weaving into the sheets.
“F-feel so good—more.” You beg, and you were sure what ‘more’ you wanted. Faster? Slower? Harder? You didn’t know, you wanted it all.
“I got you.” He whispers, maintaining his speed but slamming a little bit harder as the sounds of wet clapping fills the air. His fingers reaching down to your chest as he pinches are the hard buds. “I can feel you’re close already. Why don’t you just cum on be pretty girl.”
“Kiss me.” You beg, he leans down, capturing your lips in a heavy wet kiss, your arms snaking around his neck as he continues to slam into your spasming cunt. Your legs locking tighter around his waist as he begins to suddenly slam into you at an ungodly pace. His tip kissing your cervix.
“I’m going to cum inside you pretty girl.” He warm, and your pussy begins to grip him like a vice. Demanding he unloads nowhere else.
The walls come crashing down as he slams into you a final time, loading completely into your pussy as he groans out.
You just lay there panting. Barely registering the sounds of a door slamming and the sounds of feet pattering down the hall.
But you’re completely distracted by Miles unspoken threats. He pulls out of you, already crawling down the bed, between your thighs, as he licks a long stripe right between your folds.
Your eyes crack open in the sun filled room.
Completely naked, feeling nothing more than an ache between your inner legs, a sticky tacky mess left behind. Evidence from last nights endeavours.
You look to the other side of the bed, seeing an empty space.
“Good morning.” You hear Miles hum.
The man looks like a glorious titan.
Crystal water droplets sliding down his chest, the steam of a hot shower rolling off his skin, his muscles well defined in the morning light.
“I ordered you some breakfast.” He announces, nodding towards the food cart, holding up a silver tray of assorted items. “Your sister sent this bottle up.” He says, nodding towards a bottle of champagne with a note attached.
Miles strides closer to you, sitting down next to you as you sit up, grabbing the note strung to the bottle.
‘Karma is the best wedding present’
You grin at the note. Throwing it back onto the table.
“So,” Miles begins, “now that you’ve got your revenge, are you satisfied?”
You shake your head. “You’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” You say, making Miles chuckle at your praise.
Summary: After enduring years of abuse from your mother, you find a very successful outlet to get her back for all those years of horror.
Captive
I want a baby!
Summary: Headcannon on darling reader wanting a baby
Being Captive is … Oddly Nice
Summary: Y/n must be loosing her mind because… she’s kind of enjoying being held captive
She’s freakier than me
Summary: Yandere kidnaps darling. A woman he’s been obsessed over… only problem is that she’s a nympho — a complete freak
First Time for Everything
Summary: Darling that instigates intimacy first for the first time
Somnophilia
I can do the goth girl better than he can
Summary: An erotica on Y/n being a college student and seducing her frienemy/ Roommate Beth.
Cheating
Dominated by my lovers wife
Summary: You been having an affair knowingly with a married man. Fortunately his wife finds out and teaches you a lesson that doesn’t quite go accordingly to plan.
Summary: After the head of the household finds out his daughter is traipsing around with men. He assigns his most trusted right-hand-man to take care of the drama
Summary: After the head of the household finds out his daughter is traipsing around with men. He assigns his most trusted right-hand-man to take care of the drama
Warning: Smut, drama
Taboo: Forbidden Love
The manors living room has always been a place of leisure and relaxation.
A place typically used to unwind, now a room trapping you with your parents who cannot bare to look at you.
The disturbance of the news overwhelming their ability to look in your direction. Your mother remains seated in her nightgown, slumped in the chair, shoulders sagging, her gaze distant and hollow, a palpable air of disappointment enveloping her as she pinches the bridge of her nose the way she always does when you disappoint her. Your father continues to pace along the fire place, his face painted red with fury. Your once sympathetic posture now long diminished into exhaustion as your continual apologies fall on deaf ears.
Your hand now resting under your chin on your knuckles, attempting to look somewhat sorrowful as the third hour of your lecture rolls in. “I cannot have a whore for a daughter! It is unbecoming of a nobel woman. To think my own daughter laid with men-”
“Oh for gods sakes father, get a grip.” The awkward tension is thick in the air making everyone uncomfortable like a humid summers day. The estate has never been as quite as it is tonight. Your certain every staff member residing is listening into the drama unfolding in your household. You knew it was only a matter of time that someone would dob you into your father for your impromptu rendezvous with handsome bachelors. To think that your brother of all people had caught a half dressed man in your room scurrying for the window like a rat.
“Get a grip? Is that all you have to say.” Your fathers wrath emanates from his every fibre.
“Why the fuss? Frederick has beded hundreds of women by now.”
“Your brother is a man! You are not!” Your father bellows making the estate quieter than it had been in years. “Enough! I’m sick to my stomach discussing your sexual ventures. I’m going to be bed ridden for days!” Your fathers shaking fist only serves to exasperated your annoyance further.
“With any luck.” You mutter. Your mother is just about done with your sarcasm and antics. She stands from her chair and leaves the room without another word.
“Arthur!” The heavy wooden door of the living room opens. Your father coarse voice summoning in the head butler, his greatest confidant. “I refuse to handle the matter any further. From this point forward you will be handling my daughters daily affairs, and see to it she does not lay with another man.” With a dramatic flourish, your father exits leaving Arthur who stands before you, prim and proper as he always is. His upright and virtuous demeanour is as conspicuous as ever. “Don’t get started on me Artie - I cannot bare a second longer.” A heavy breath merely pours from Arthur’s nostrils.
“Lady Y/n, it’s rather late, I feel you should go to bed and we can discuss the matter later.” Arthur stands in his usual proper pose. His chin tilted upwards as he looks down at you past his nose.
“I’m serious Artie - think of me what you will. But I really couldn’t help myself. My body yearned you see - so I-“ The butler lifted his palm, signing for your immediate silence.
“That’s enough Lady Y/n. I cannot judge the needs of a woman, you were merely fulfilling what your body demanded of you. There is really no need for you to explain yourself.” He spoke, making you stutter in shock. Arthur was far from the sympathetic and understanding type.
“Oh Artie- your just full of surprises!” You jump up and gave a large kiss on his cheek. Graciously sparing you of another lecture.
“I have many layers to me that you do not know of Lady Y/n.”
“I’m really greatful that you are being so understanding of my situation Artie- a woman has the same needs as men you know!”
“Lady Y/n, whilst i understand your predicament. The head of your house has tasked me to ensure your that you do not lay with another man.” You scoff at Arties prudishness. “Instead, I offer you my services for any urges you may have.”
You sputter at Arties offer.
Did he seriously offer his body for your every need?
“Artie… Are you-“
“I am the head butler of this estate. It is my duty to service my patrons. Knowing you, you will ignore your father and continue sharing your body with strangers. So instead , I offer you my body and my talents to fulfil your needs so that you may not welcome another man into your bed.” You just about snort. Artie is a self-righteous, monotoned bore. Sex is passionate, rhythmic and erotic. Everything you didn’t think Artie was. Artie has sex appeal, but you always thought it wasted on him.
“What do you mean by ‘talents’?”
“I have been praised by many for the use of my mouth.” Your brow shoots up at the scandalous details that have befallen your ears.
“Shall I now demonstrate my talents Lady Y/n?”
You lay a quivering mess on the couch of the living room.
Arties hand stretching up, his hand cupped over your mouth, silencing any noise befalling passed your lips.
Your throaty hums echo through the room as Arties tongue glides between your wet silky folds. Swirling his tongue in circular motions at the mound of your clit.
Your hips shuttering up into his mouth. As he draws your near your third orgasm.
Your inner organ clenching and fluttering around nothing. His tongue continues to flick suck and massage. The intensity of being drawn to yet another orgasm causes the sensation of flames to ride up your inner thighs. Your core melting into the the sensation as a wave of pleasure consumes your muscles to contract and shutter under the intense pleasure.
Your back arched off the couch of which you only sat moments before being lectured on the improper nature of a woman having sex.
The cushions now soaking in sweat and essence drawn out by the very man charged to prevent you from intercourse.
Your body quivers under the prolonged pleasure afflicted.
Your lips quiver, struggling to find the words to ardently portray the feeling of emptiness you feel between your legs and the newly found yearning you feel for your butler.
He hovers above you fully clothed and looking the slightest bit pleased. His signature smirk, it’s the kind of condescending smirk he holds when he feels superior to others. Despite his signature smirk stirring irritations within you, you couldn’t help but feel that his condescending smile looked utterly fitting for the occasion.
“Please Artie…” You mutter, drawing him near. Silently begging for more than his mouth. Artie merely looks at the grand clock which begins to chime loudly, indicating mid-night.
You couldn’t understand why Artie, is now suddenly moving at rapid speed. The tug of your skirt falling back down to your ankles as he wretches you upward into a seating position. He frantically wipes at his face and runs his fingers through his hair.
A loud knock echos along the living room door before the head maid steps through announcing her arrival.
“Arthur, I believe it’s rather late. Please allow me to prepare Lady Y/n for bed.” Her eyes bulge at your state. “Oh my Lady Y/n are you alright?!” Matilda rushes to your side, wrapping her arm around your shoulder in comfort. Matilda mistakenly took your disheveled state, flushed face and tear dried eyes for distress. “Arthur, I think you have taken her punishment far enough. Let us go Lady Y/n.” Matilda scolds dragging you off to your room to settle for the night.
You look back at Artie, as you stumble towards your room by Matilda.
Artie has single handedly rewired your brain at the tense pleasure.
Sex always felt pleasurable, but you had no idea that oral alone could evoke pleasure that sent fire through your loins, or make your essence gush out of you, or make your brain go fuzzy as you can only describe as feeling completed.
Archie called it an ‘orgasm’. Such a fascinating feeling you were unaware that sex could bring. But never had you experienced the feeling of ‘completion’ with sex.
And if that feeling came from his mouth, you’re certainly curious to see what his cock could do for you.
Summary: Y/n is absolutely terrified of all of the recent killings and can’t sleep by herself, she goes to her step brother for help.
Warnings: smut, stepcest, dub-con/ non-con, knife-play, mental health, mentions of death, dead dove do not eat.
A/n: I tried to keep his description vague so that you can insert whichever character.
Taboo: Non-con + Stepcest
“But Ma, this is crazy! People are dying! My life is in danger- I could die!” Your mother huffs into the phone in irritation at your ‘dramatic’ outburst.
“I’m sorry, what do you want me to do about it?” Your mind buzzes as blood rushes to your head, making your last frayed nerve snap.
“My best friend was killed in the same room as me! God damn it, your lucky to still have a daughter! Have YOU gone mental? Who the hell abandons their child amidst a killing spree?!” You scream into the phone.
“Your father was in a bad accident and needed some help, what am I suppose to do? Leave him in the hospital all alone?” She asks, as if her logic was flawless. “I couldn’t bring you, that would be too traumatic to see your father in such a state. Your Step-father and I will both be back in 2 weeks. It’s not like your alone.” Of course referring to your step-brother.
Your eye twitched, there was no sense in talking with your mother. She was clearly, beyond idiotic. Without saying another word you just hang up the phone and sit in silence, wrapping your thick blankets around your form as you scrutinise every random sound or shadow.
This whole ideal has been torturous, watching your friends life be taken before your very eyes, in your own home leaves you feeling as though the killer is out to get you. You were scared beyond your means and worst of all, no one seemed to care at all.
The lack of sleep was taking a toll on you, and your mental health, well, what was left of it, was quickly deteriorating.
You resorted to your last option, your step-brother.
His room, seemingly was the only room in the house with a lock.
It might not be much, but it’s better than nothing.
Getting up, you quietly tip toe to his bedroom, bed abandoned, the brave asshole must be at another party.
Closing and locking the door, you slip under the covers and proceed to feel safe for the first time in days.
The lock was enough to encourage your sleep-deprived mind to finally give in.
“Well, well well, what do we have here?” Your woken up by your douchebag step brother.
You’re tired eyes snap open, “How the hell did you get in here?” Your heart races, at the stress that you weren’t as safe as you thought.
“It’s my room idiot, I have a key to my own lock.” He says waving the key in your face. “What the hell are you in my bed anyway?” Sighing you sit up ready to leave, but not before begging him to let you stay.
“Please, I’m begging you, don’t make me sleep by myself. I’ll do whatever you want.” The stress of this whole situation was beyond you, and his room was the first and only reprieve you’ve had. Your step-brother has his arms crossed, looking unconvinced.
“Seriously? The Ghost face killer let you live, nothing bad is going to happen to you.” You shake your head dismissing his point entirely.
“The killer didn’t ‘let me’ live, I ran for my life! You weren’t there, you don’t know what it’s like!” You say grabbing onto him, teary eyed. He snorts and rolls his eyes before looking at your desperate face and seeing the resolution you held.
“Anything?” He says, testing your reaction for any disgust or retraction. Only the look of relief plasters your whole form, making him grin at this new found opportunity. You understand his insinuation, if life was operating as normal, you would have revolted as a step-sibling ought to, or at least you’d pretend to. But you truely are willing to do anything to feel any sort of semblance of safety, not caring at all about the consequences. “Fine, I’m convinced, lay down already would ya?” Laying down onto your side, he lays down with you, spooning into your form.
You figured you would have to swallow any disgust, but you found his hold incredibly comforting, which makes you back up into his hold, desperate for the comfort his touch provided. Something no one has given you since the end of your best friends life.
His hand shoots down to your hips giving it a light squeeze. “Thank you for letting me stay, you have no idea how much it means to me.” You say, hugging his arm into your chest.
Many minutes pass, and your finally feel yourself drifting off again, only to be brought back to full awareness as a wondering hand slides from your stomach to your boobs, his hand gives your chest a hesitant grope before pinching at your nipples, making them perk up.
He takes this as an invitation to pull your top down and touch the bare skin. You lay still for a moment, not quite sure if you’re dreaming or not. He rolls you onto your back and kisses your lips, still groping your fleshy mounds. He pulls away looking dissatisfied. “Why aren’t you kissing back. You said I could have anything right? Well I want this.”
He kisses your neck, and begins to trail down to your chest and takes in your perked nipple into his mouth. His hand now moving down to your box, he presses his fingers into your clothed cunt and begins to rub drawn out circles.
You should be disturbed, but honestly, your so enthralled by the attention. The stimulation releasing much needed endorphins into your system.
Your fingers tangle around his hair, enjoying the onset of pleasure.
Pulling your shorts off you spread your legs for him. “Never thought you’d be this eager princess.” Settling between your thighs, he moved your legs over his shoulders and leans teasing airy kisses along your thighs, your back slowly arching off the bed, eager for a little more than he is currently supplying.
He laughs tauntingly before French kissing your clit, and staring up at you as he does. Back arching off of the bed, you press your hips further into his mouth. “Ah” you sigh a porn star perfect moan making him impossibly hard. “God, if that’s what you sound like now, just wait until you get the real thing.” His words, along with his skilful tongue makes you clench around nothing. The coil in your stomach tightening as his tongue flicks intoxicating licks along with his fingers which press though your entrance. He feels your spasming pussy clenching around his one finger makes him groan, thinking about your cunt clenching around his cock. Your unfiltered pleasure is playing out like an erotic movie, he begins to rut into the mattress to relieve the straining tension that’s painfully neglected in his pyjama pants.
His intense combination makes the coil snap, and your orgasm flash a starry night into your fucked out vision.
“Aw look at you, god, your so fucking hot, fuck I need to be inside you right now.” He says, pulling out his neglected member. He lines up only to be flipped and rolled onto his back. Now straddling him, you sit on his erected member and begin to slide your sopping slit along the shaft.
“How long have you wanted me?” You ask teasingly, his hips rut up into you, desperate to be submerged into your heavenly folds.
“Too long.” His head leans up, watching you take his shaft to your desperate hole and begin to slide his thick stick inside yourself. He head throws back on the pillow, groaning at the sensation of your gummy walls restricting around his throbbing member.
Slowly, you roll onto his dick, which rolls waves of pleasure through your core, hitting you in all the right places. The slow movement further intensifies the dragging sensation.
He thrust his hips up to your meet your rhythm.
His stomach spasms and flexes, eyes screwing shut and almost pained expression plastering his features.
“Aw, you want to cum don’t you?” He nods, hoping you’ll give him permission. “Ah, your cock feels so good, I can’t stop.” You sob, his fingers pressing painful welts into your sides.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Im gonna cum. Im gonna cum.” He chants his warnings.
Pulling him out, you give a final few strokes to push him over the edge, white liquid spurting out all across his chest.
“Ahh, you cheeky bitch, I wanted to cream pie you.” Which only makes you giggle.
“Guess you’ll just have to fuck me again.”
The Ghost face killer had taken the back seat of your mind. Any worries or concerns quickly fucked out of your mind by your step bros piston hips.
You sigh with a goofy grin as your phone lights up with the message ‘Be home soon ;)’ a private number pops up on the screen and you answer, forgetting the recent events.
“Hi-“
“Didn’t think you escaped me did you?” The brazen voice filters through the phone making your heart instantly stop.
“I uh-“
“Aw what’s the matter? You looked so happy before.” Your stomach clenches painfully, realising that your life may end any moment now. “What’s the matter? Don’t have your step bros cock to make you feel better?” You just about vomit, how long has this creep been watching you.
You begin to cry, knowing you won’t be so lucky this time as you were last time. “Don’t fucking cry you baby, nothings happened yet… I just want to talk.” You try to swallow your sobs and listen carefully. “Your life your your step-bros life?”
“What?” You mutter, not quite comprehending the sadistic words.
“I SAID YOUR LIFE OR YOUR STEP-BROTHERS LIFE? Would you rather save yourself or save your step-brother?!” Ghost face roars into the phone making you squeal.
“M-my life, I’d rather die.” And to your surprise, you had truely meant it. Your mental health was a shrivelled dying plant, the trauma you had endured and the indifferent attitude of those around you made you feel crazy. Any sense of sanity shredded the instant you witnessed your friends demise. At least with him, he has a hope at surviving and living out a normal long life. But if he comes home and sees your mangled corpse, he’ll surely loose it like you did. The idea that your silent suffering will finally come to an end, was almost a relief.
“I want to play a game.”
“What game?”
“You’ll see.” He answers, hanging up the phone.
You erratically text the person who you care about most.
‘DONT COME BACK’
‘RUN’
‘PLEASE RUN’
You start to sob hysterically, imagining the worst case scenario.
Would he come home only to be ambushed and slaughtered on the lawn?
Would he be cut and diced in the car?
Would he step through the door and hold him, and in a moment of deluded safety would he be cut-down and butchered like a pig?
The front lock rings as the entry door creaks open eerily, showing non-other than your step-bro standing in the door way with huge pizza and a huge smile plastered across his face.
“Hey there you are-“
“Run!” You screech hysterically, shoving his unmoving figure back out the door. “Please please please, come on! What are you doing!” You scream as he remains solidly in place.
“Hey what’s the matter? Why are you actin all crazy for-“ His words are cut-short and you continue the push at him.
“No time for questions! Please come on!” Instead, he ignores you like everyone else did. He grabbed your arms and pulls you into a bear hug.
“Shh, calm down baby… he’s just messing with you. Don’t-“
“Stop it, Stop it, Stop it! Im not crazy! He’s here! Please let’s go before anything happens to you!”
“Stop. Everything will be fine okay? I’m here to protect you. Now stop acting hysterical and let’s go have some of the pizza okay?” He says. Frustrated tears pouring relentlessly from your eyes and he turns and strides up the stairs with little care. “Trust me.”
You should just leave.
You can help those who can’t help themselves.
Just leave.
He’s a lost cause.
If you stay, you’ll surely die.
With the last ounce of sanity you have left in your head, you grab your car keys and throwing open the heavy wooden door, only to come face to face with the devil himself.
Ghost face.
Before a breath of a scream could be released, his large overbearing hand smothers your open mouth and muffles any sound you were about to make.
“Should’ve listen to your step-boyfriend heh~” His reverberated voice echos, pushing you down to the floor. Your hands flail and grip onto his stern hand, holding your mouth closed. “Let’s play a game. If you scream, I’ll spare you. In exchange, I’ll gut your step-boyfriend like a fish! If you stay silent, Ill kill you and in exchange, I’ll let your step-boyfriend live.” You continue to stare, dread seeping deeply to your stomach. “Heh get it? You’ll scream either way, so let it rip sister!” He growls, yanking his hand back violently, anticipating your piercing scream to fill the air only for hushed whimpers and your elbow covering your mouth to muffle any screams. Ghost face chuckles at your choice. He slowly drags the tip of his sharpened knife along the top of your thigh. A thin superficial cut brings forward a deep red crimson to your cut-skin, but you bite back your sounds. “Oh, so you really meant it huh? You really want your step-brother to live don’t you.” Too terrified to utter a word, you nod slowly a Ghost face pulls away his threatening weapon. “W hat a good girl you are…” he praises. “Lemme fuck you again like last time and I’ll leave you and your step-lover alone.” Your horror filled eyes remain widen at his offer. You grimly nod, agreeing to offer yourself up once again if it meant your survival.
You never dared to admit it out loud to anyone. To ashamed of your actions. Everyone thought you survived because you had out run the killer, but in reality, ghostface caught up to you in no time, kicking your legs out beneath you as you hit the grassy lawn.
The only reason you’re still alive today is because you fucked ghost face until he couldn’t walk. Which gave you the opportunity to run away after.
But you remained paranoid that Ghost Face would come back to finish what he started.
“Who fucks you better?” Ghost face asks, cutting off your shorts with his obscene knife and tossing the scraps over his shoulder. Shuttering in excitement at your exposure he drags up the costume, his cock bouncing out as he scrambled to line it up to your entrance.
Before you utter another word, you catch a strong whiff of your step-bros cologne wafting off ghost face.
Your stomach sinks into the abyss.
Why does ghost face smell like him?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
“Does it matter?” You mutter, “It’s not like your different people.” Snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your lips and pressing a kiss to ghost face mouth.