Need her violently, need her desperately, need her biblically, need her irrevocably, need her effervescently, need her so bad I will debase myself need her so bad I will leave EVERYTHING behind
đŒđ ïŒnsfw, fingering (r!receiving), primal play, non con, knife play, blood, dacryphilia, slapping, no foreplay or aftercare . . #sorry, degradation, not rly proofread :p
đđđđđđđđ ïŒyou draw the queen card, fearing for your life, but it seems like shauna wants to do more than kill you . .
the fallen autumn leaves cracked under your bare feet with each hard thump on the ground. the sky was dimming with the sunset, giving you a small hope for your life as you could more easily blend into the incoming night. you were the one to draw the queen, feeling nothing but impending dread knowing what waits for you in mere minutes.
the rest of the woods felt quiet, the only noise through your ears being your heart pounding out of your chest. at this rate, it could probably be heard through the trees if anyone listened carefully enough. the light snap of a tree branch on the floor caused your head to quickly swivel in the direction of the noise, only to find yourself tackled onto the ground before you could process anything happening.
âi fucking got you, bitch,â a familiar voice spat from above you. shauna shipman had her legs pressed firmly on either side of your thighs, pinning you down into the dirt. her slightly dull pocket knife rested on your throat, ready to apply pressure at any moment. your chest tightened at the sight of her, her eyes filled with a deep, sickening bloodlust. her hands roughly gripped your jaw, turning your face to the side as she began digging her hungry teeth into your neck. the unexpected sensation made your body jolt, heart palpitating from the feeling of it all. she mumbled angrily under her breath between every drag of her canines into your pulse point. at this point, her knife had slowly made its way down to your stomach, the blade just barely touching the bare skin from under your shirt.
your lungs expanded deeply with each bit of contact her mouth and hands made with your body. you could barely comprehend the scenario you were now in. shaunaâs fingers continued to grip tightly onto her knife, dragging it along your waist while her teeth bit into you. it was all so fucked up, but you couldnât deny how wet you could now feel yourself growing. she had finally pulled her face away to marvel at the amount of rough marks now painted on your skin. a smug smirk plastered itself onto her face, using her thumb to wipe off the small amount of blood she had drawn from you.
it felt like all you could do in a situation like this was stare at herâ like a deer caught in headlights. she glared down at you under her, still straddling your legs to hold you in place. she looked like she could devour you right then and there, and you both know she would.
suddenly, a sharp pain rose from your abdomen, making you yelp out in pain. her blade had dug so slightly into your side, leaving a short but deep slit on your skin. tears welled in your eyes from the sensation, only worsening in embarrassment when you felt the girl above you laughing pitifully at you. âoh, shut the fuck up,â she rolled her eyes, tossing the knife off into the detritus of leaves on the ground surrounding you. the cut dribbled blood down your waist, bleeding slowly into the dirt. her fingers traced along the wound, letting another smirk display on her face in awe.
her hands glided down your body, tracing over the slit just one more time before lowering her fingers to your clothed heat, feeling a deep, wet spot combined with a gentle throb, making her laugh at you mockingly. âjesus, are you seriously fucking wet right now?â, she scoffed, circling your clit with her thumb roughly. long, slender fingers trace along the fabric of your undergarments, tutting at the contemptibility of your arousal. your heart continued to race in your chest, pulse echoing through your own ears.
a sudden, harsh breeze hit your core, forcing you to snap your head up and look down at where her hands worked. shauna had roughly ripped the underside of your panties, leaving you completely exposed to her ravenous eyes. she licked her lips at the delicious sight, gathering slick from you with her contrasting cold fingers. your chest heavily rose and fell with each touch of her hands on your body. the anxiety from her unknown motives kept your head spinning. was she here to kill you or what?
âdonât make a fucking sound,â her dark eyes met yours before two long, thin digits abruptly slid into your messy hole, forcing a loud yelp from your throat. her wrists snapped in and out of you so easily, repeatedly thrusting from her knuckles to the ends of her fingers. her pace was absolutely brutal, and she did not hold back on the roughness of her movements. desperate whines forced their way out of your throat, tears glossing your eyes while she relentlessly pounded into you.
the tips of her fingers angled up, prodding at your g-spot at a brutal pace. her abrasive thrusts filled your eyes with harsh tears which streamed down your face while you sniffled helplessly under her. through your constant whines, you managed to cry out her name, choking on every syllable. her hand immediately struck your cheek, leaving a harsh print on your face. the impact snapped your face sideways, prickling even more tears in your eyes which coated your face and cheeks.
the view she had of you was pathetic; snot ran down your chin while you helplessly weeped, eyes blown out from just how much you cried below her. the pace of her hands never ceased their unyielding drive into you. as shameful as it was, you couldnât help but love what was happening to you, and quickly felt an orgasm approaching. your stomach fluttered with pressure, begging to be relieved through your climax. her eyes moved up your body to meet your misty eyes, switching her movements to roughly massage the spongy bit of your insides. her shift in rhythm quickly made your entire body tense, legs convulsing around her wrist while your back arched away from the leaves beneath you. the pleads and cries for shauna that exited your mouth were incomprehensible and just came out like desperate babbles.
just as quickly as it had started, you began to come down from the peak of your climax, chest heaving with heavy breaths. shauna heedlessly pulled her fingers out of your abused hole, making you whine out, knowing how little sheâd care.
her dark eyes stared back down at you one last time, almost as if she was analyzing you. your heart still quivered tightly within your rib cage, unsure if this was your last moment or not. without a word, shauna lifted herself back into her feet and coldly inspected your half naked, scarred body one more time before actually deciding to speak, âyouâre lucky.â
summary: itâs so cold in the cabin and Lottieâs dick is just so hard
tags/warnings: masturbation, somno, gp!lottie, perverted Lottie, dryhumping, oral r recieving, dubcon but a bit noncon, p in v sex
a/n: finally getting to this đ
The door subtly shuts behind her as Lottie steps inside of the empty cabin where you peacefully nap, her boots tracking in some of the snow from her religious circle. She rubbed her hands together to create some vague warmth, but she continued to shiver.
Her eyes scanned over the room for any source of warmth, but there was not even a fire burning. She climbs up the ladder and into the attic where she sees your sleeping body rest on a sewn-together sleeping bag. In Lottieâs pants, she feels her length elongate and harden. Fuck. You just looked so peaceful and adorable sleeping there with blankets wrapped around you. It shouldnât turn her on.
She rubbed her crotch through her cotton pants to try to partially relieve it, but her cock just twitched eagerly. Lottieâs hand dove down her lacy panties as she wrapped a fist tightly around her boner.
âShit Iâm sorry. Iâm so so sorry,â Lottie grunted, her fist pumping up and down her dick.
She imagined fucking you rough and deep instead of her long, cold fingers, the tight warmth of your pussy swallowing her up, even when her pace was relentless. God, you just looked so warm, sleeping in your t-shirt and underwear. Lottie pumped her hand up and down across her erection.
She groaned and whimpered at her own hand, despite the lack of heat. âYouâre so pretty like this, I wish I could fuck you,â she murmured, âI wish I wasnât such a perv. Maybe then Iâd get to feel you around me, warming me up. Mhhn I would ruin you.â
She rubbed herself back and forth for so long but yet her climax still had not built up. No matter how much she teased and fondled herself she couldnât just cum. Lottie groaned in pain. She needed some release somehow!
Lottie crawled on top of you, wrapped her legs around your waist and rubbed her crotch onto the clothed curve of your ass, panting. She moved her hips back and forth and tried to imagine your pussy swallowing her dick up whole. She grabbed at your thighs, almost creating indents where her nails landed, to keep you still while she rubbed up on you.
âmmph fuck,â she whined out after a soft moan, âNeed you.â
She let her body rest against the spread of your back as she rocked her hips against your ass. Her dickâs friction pushed against your clothed asshole. She needed the real thing.
âYou can-mhhhn-be my sex toy,â she let out a strangled whimper that quickly turned into a moan.
She craved your real pussy, not some clothed stuff. The friction wasnât enough, she needed pussy. She needed to get inside of you, even if it meant being a perv.
She gently reached her fingers to the curve of your waistband and pulled slightly at your panties. They slid off with a gentle tug of her hand. Her eyes quickly scanned over your cunt to see your folds soft and wet. She moved your thighs to create a large gap for her head to fit. Lottie moved her head down to your pussy to place a tentative lick to it. You didnât jolt awake or shove her away, and to her that was a sign to keep on going.
She bent down further to practically stick her nose in your cunt. She slurped and lapped up your pussy to make some form of lube. As she licked you up, she teased the tip of her cock, precum wetting the head. She applied a long lick as she stroked herself to you.
âYou donât need to think, you can just be,â she grumbled in between groans, âplease donât wake up.â
Lottie moved her hips to align with yours, placing the head of her dick against your folds. Her cock slid in to your cunt with a moan of relief. She stood still for a moment before her hips jerked forward, pounding into you. She pulled almost out of you for a brief second and then pushed back into you, hitting a soft spot.
You squirmed a bit in your sleep, feeling something rough penetrating you. Your eyes fluttered open to meet Lottieâs.
âWhatâreâŠ. you doing?â You asked drowsily, the grogginess still in your eyes.
She stopped her hip movements abruptly.
Awkward silence filled the room instead of skin.
Then quickly she responded, ânothing baby you can go back to sleep,â she gently moved your head back down to the pillow.
She felt so guilty about defiling you like this, breaking the bond she tried so hard to create.
But god it felt so good.
âMhh okayâŠâ you mumbled soaking up the warmth and closing your eyes back to your sleeping state.
Lottie pressed a kiss behind your ear, a plea for forgiveness once you wake up, before she resumes her pace of her dick in your cunt.
Her thighs trapped your hips beneath hers so she could continue her relentless pursuit of her release. Your cunt was so tight and warm and welcoming, nothing like the outside winter storm. She pounded harder, finding that perfect spot that made her moan perfectly.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her dick let out warm spurts of cum, filling you completely. She couldnât pull out in time before you were stuffed full. She had never come so much, it was a release like she never had before.
no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, pussy throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking,
idk if thatâs been done before, but film director adult van and controversially younger actress reader fucking in a dressing room⊠maybe van is married and reader is definitely louder than she should but van doesnât stop her
two minutes until youâre supposed to be out there, and yet youâre nowhere near ready to deliver. now, given that youâre currently bent over and exposed from the waist down, with your hair, makeup, and the other half of your costume still missing, this seems like the least of your concerns. besides, itâs not like your director will be out there in time, eitherâŠ.all you have to do is lift your gaze to the mirror to find van, whose hands have flipped up the skirt the costume designers had put you in, and are now working at unbuckling her own belt in a hurry. âfucking hell,â she mumbles, flashing you a quick grin once sheâs finally managed to tug it free and toss it aside. her pants come loose & drop to the floor around her ankles, revealing a prominent bulge in her boxers. so you werenât mistaken when youâd thought youâd seen something in her crotch earlier, and spent the rest of your morning fantasizing about all the things van could (and inevitably would) do to you, right up until the moment youâd dragged her into the dressing room. thankfully, it hadnât taken more than a few sloppy kisses for van to be persuaded: sheâd spun you around the second she slid the lock into place, which is precisely how you ended up here, bent over with your ass flush to her front.
so much for this being the âlast time,â as sheâd claimed when you last did this, and the time before that, and the time before that, too. you know just as well as van does that you should not be doing this at all: if it came out that vanessa palmer was sleeping with one of her coworkers on the set of her own film, both of your careers (as well as her marriage) would be fucked for the foreseeable future. it doesnât seem to concern van all that much: sheâs finished fumbling with the waistband of her boxer shorts and promptly kicks your legs further apart. you gasp as she sinks her fingers into your hair & pushes your upper body onto the desk to keep you from watching her in the reflection, your cheek pressing against the tabletop.
how the two of you fuck will, more often than not, depend on the circumstances & the amount of time you have without risking being caught. right now, you suppose that itâs one of those occasions where, while you both know you shouldnât, van simply canât keep her hands to herself and needs to fuck you rough & hard before going on about her day so nonchalantly youâve come to admire it: youâd think she was the actress, given the act she can pull off immediately after, as if she hadnât been knuckle-deep inside you mere minutes ago.
you feel yourself squeeze down around nothing when the crotch of your panties is pulled aside and the air hits your bare cunt, cold where your arousal has already soaked through. âfuckâŠâ van groans from behind. both her hands come down to part your asscheeks, clearly pleased with all the wetness that has gathered there & makes you glisten for her. again, you can feel your walls clench, eliciting another chuckle from van at the sight. âyeah?â she mustâve leaned in (though you wouldnât know, bent over like that) her voice right by your ear all of a sudden. âyou need this pretty pussy filled?â two of her fingers have stayed between your thighs, and now part your folds as they slowly drag through them.
âfuck!â you yelp, pushing your hips back into the touch. âmhm, yes! yes, god-â if youâd known youâd be begging like this for the woman you first met at your callback for the auditionsâŠâŠhell, if you, still so new to the industry in comparison, had known van would someday be touching you like this, you doubt you wouldâve had the guts to show up at all.
âshhh,â she hushes, withdrawing her fingers only to wrap them around the base of the dildo and run its silicone tip through your cunt instead. again, you instinctively press back into the toy, gasping as its thick head bumps against your clit. âyou want this?â
âyes!â at this point youâre just mindlessly rolling your hips between vanâs body, flush to yours, and the edge of the desk, desperate for any sort of friction. âvan, please, i need you to f-â your words trail off, ending in a high pitched gasp when the tip of her cock, then the whole length of it, suddenly breaches your entrance and slides inside in one smooth thrust. the stretch forces the air from your lungs, yet you can only cry out and take it, entirely at vanâs mercy: she keeps you spread open for her, the fucking wedding ring cool where it presses into the flesh of your ass as she starts grinding her hips.
you have no idea how van does it, but somehow every single thrust forces the dildo right against your g-spot from a perfect angle, your knees buckling in no time while van keeps going at that fast pace sheâs set; pulling back until only the tip remains notched inside, then pushing the whole length of her cock in again. the sound of skin slapping against skin can probably be heard through the door to the dressing room, if your moans arenât too loud to cover it up, and you know you should tone it down for both your sakes, but the thrill of the risk youâre taking has you clenching tighter around vanâs dick as it bottoms out.Â
youâve got a white knuckle grip on the deskâs edge (which is a problem in itself, with how it bangs into the wall) when her hand comes up again, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your entire upper body up and against her front. at least you can see your reflection again, but the second your eyes land on yourself, you immediately wish they hadnât: youâre a fucking mess, thatâs what you are, and youâre so going to have to head to hair and makeup once youâre done here. if the producers or whoever else would be responsible for that donât immediately fire you for sleeping with van, that is.
âyou need to beâŠfuck.â she pants through gritted teeth, the sentence never going anywhere. âhere,â van says, squeezing one of your legs to hoist it up onto the tabletop. your eyes widen in the mirror when this new position leaves you completely exposed, vanâs gaze instantly fixed on your cunt where it opens up for her from this angle. like this, you can both see how stretched out around her you are, the toyâs shaft glistening with your wetness, coated from root to tip every time van pulls it back. it also lets her reach much deeper than before, making you gasp and squirm as you try to fuck yourself on the dildo by rolling your hips back against it.
with how loud youâre being, van should, rationally, just cover your mouth or make you suck on her fingers, yet instead she brings her hand between your spread legs. while her thighs slap against your ass and she keeps ploughing into you, her fingers easily find your swollen clit and start rubbing it in sync with her thrusts, a combination that has you seeing stars. âoh fuck, oh fuck!â you nod your head, both eyes closed as you feel the heat of an imminent climax forming in your abdomen.Â
âthatâs it,â van praises. âgood girlâŠâ your jaw drops uselessly, all that praise making you even dizzier. or perhaps itâs the silicone dildo, hammering against your fucking cervix. either way, it has you gushing around van, thighs trembling where theyâre forced apart so her fingertip can keep circling your clit.Â
âplease, van, please, iâm gonna- youâre gonna make me-â all those words only serve to spur van on further. she fucks you harder, pushing you towards the edge without a care in the world. you know you need to be quieter, but if van notices all those obscene sounds tearing from your throat, she either doesnât care or has ndas ready to be signed by whoever overhears. for now, her main focus seems solely on making you come. âthatâs it,â she pants. âthatâs it, come on, come for me.â
A/N: thereâs been already idea like that on tumblr but unfortunately the author isnât active now, however I wanted to give a shout out to her. if you know, you know. part two is very much possible too!!
SUMMARY: secret relationship with your professor? woah, you really have no shame. fluff. smut. college au. characters in their 30âs (probably)
WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF NSFW â MDNI
MASTERLIST
SHAUNA SHIPMAN is definitely the strictest professor youâll ever meet. She has set rigid office hours for herself. Want to retake an exam at another time? No chance. Honestly, itâs a miracle if Shauna even lets you redo any grade at all. Half the students drop out after the first semester because they canât handle the workload or the scale of the exams. By the second semester, only a handful of people remain in the classroom those who shed blood, sweat, and tears to be there.
Congratulations! Youâre one of the chosen ones, but youâve also just destroyed your mental health. Your essay was graded as if you were competing for the Nobel Prize in Literature, and you spent a week preparing for the exam while drinking hectoliters of energy drinks.
Shauna never misses a chance to point out what you still donât know and how intellectually superior she is to you.
Unfortunately for you, Shauna is also insanely sexy, so you donât really mind when she subtly reminds you of your gaps in knowledge. Remember, you need knowledge beyond the curriculum!!!
And maybe thatâs your final nail in the coffin the fact that Shauna makes your knees weak.
You start finding excuses to end up in private study sessions in her office after hours or early in the morning under the pretense of polishing your knowledge. In reality, youâre staring at her breasts while she leans over your essay, you pervert. Sheâs still cold and fairly mean, but that doesnât bother you.
âTragic argument,â she mutters, while youâre nearly drooling at the sight of the veins on her hands. You watch her long fingers, wondering what it would be like if she slid them straight into your cuntâ
âYou could at least pretend to be interested.â
âSorryâŠâ you mumble, blushing bright red, which of course does not escape her notice.
Shauna made it very clear she had no intention of accepting inappropriate propositions from students, but really, you were asking for it. She had to put you in your place, so a few smacks wouldnât hurt. You make pathetic little sounds, but Shauna discovers she rather likes it.
G!P Shauna, who bends you over your desk and takes you from behind <3
JACKIE TAYLOR. Youâd never guess someone like her ended up in the mathematics department. You donât mean to underestimate her, but Jackie looks much more like a student than someone carrying the title of professor. She is Shaunaâs complete opposite.
Itâs easy to fall in love with those blonde hair, that husky voice, the colorful dresses and shirts.
During class, Jackie walks around the room checking on how your group work is going. When she gets to you, she clicks her tongue softly and points at the equation.
âThink again, darling,â she whispers, and you could swear she does it on purpose. Her perfume lingers with you for a long time afterward.
The initiative comes from Jackie. Youâd never expect the professor to flirt first, but after two months, Jackie is kissing you senseless in front of the huge mirror in her bedroom apartment.
âSuch a pretty girl,â she sighs into your ear, rubbing your hip.
NATALIE SCATORCCIO probably forgets herself sometimes that she somehow earned the title of professor. Somehow, by some miracle, because honestly you have no idea how it happened either. On the other hand, looking at her is oddly comforting. If Natalie could do it, then maybe you can too, right?
Itâs not that Nat is stupid. Far from it. You need brains to teach in the medical faculty. Nat is just unbelievably scatterbrained and laid back for someone who is a fucking professor. She must be insanely intelligent if they let her teach while looking like a rebellious teenager. Which was, okay, hot but it still left students speechless.
Besides that, she smells like tobacco and sometimes weed. She claims itâs for medical purposes. Sure.
You could wait weeks for your tests to be graded, she insisted everyone call her by her first name, and the level of her classes wasnât particularly high until the exam, which made half the students fail.
At first, Nat seemed bored by your flirting, like sheâd dealt with it a hundred times before.
âBack again?â she snorts, walking into the room and sprawling across the desk. âYou should give up.â
But eventually, you gave her a cigarette when she needed one. She was supposed to drive you home after class, but she stayed longer. She drank a little too much wine, and before you realized it, you were making out with her on a cramped couch. Nat couldnât keep her hands off you that night. She even stayed over, which apparently never happened.
LOTTIE MATTHEWS is one giant walking mystery. The mood in her classes depends mostly on her own mood, so students work very hard not to annoy her. Her patience has a very thin limit. She doesnât rule through terror, but sometimes it feels like her classes are some kind of social experiment. Maybe itâs for the best if sheâs trying to train the next generation of psychologists.
Charlotte is extremely strict about titles and formalities, and itâs very easy to lose her respect. She isnât as harsh as some of us, cough cough, but she is firm and wonât tolerate even a single poorly chosen phrase. Be careful when writing emails!!
Of course, somehow, you managed to mix up her title and lose all standing in her eyes. You didnât mean to, but Lottie became stricter after that and looked down on you (literally). You decided things couldnât get much worse, so one day you went to her office and begged for forgiveness on your knees.
She opens the door, looking you over, but softens at the sight of chocolates and flowers.
âIs this bribery?â she asks, more amused than angry but youâll take it too seriously.
âOf course not, ProfessorâŠâ
Lottie, who turns out to be one of the sweetest people youâve ever met. You were surprised, because your relationship started like the most ordinary relationship in the world rather than some indecent affair between professor and student. Lottie just couldnât resist. She grew too fond of those conversations in her bed, when you straddled her lap while she played with your hair and murmured sweet words into your ear.
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