#dub con

[kinsuim]

A SCARY MOVIE | DARK CONTENT MDNI 18+

one-shot: ghostface! caleb & sylus x fem! reader

you’re not stupid. don’t answer doors with strangers, nor calls. halloween is a few days away, and you needed your self-care time. however, you have the worst of luck— but it’s not your fault. blame your friend.

warnings: mdni/18+, language, dubious consent, childhood bestfriend! caleb + stranger! sylus, mentions of blood, knife play, glove kink, cunnilingus + blowjob, fingering + squirting, vouyerism, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, filming/sex tapes, overstimulation, cum eating, masked! caleb, nicknames, slight somnophilia, threesome

Another scream rang through your enclosed walls, piercing and shrill like that last.

It wasn’t new to you, because the horror cliqué remained the same. You watched the female lead get stabbed by the slasher, screaming and sobbing for mercy.

“Just grab the fucking knife!”

You groaned, slapping your hand across your couch’s perch in anger. If you were attacked like that, you’d definitely kick him in the balls and shove the knife through his ass. It was that simple!

Night had fallen long ago, and the stars were invisible in the gloom. You were home alone for the time being, especially with your grandma out for her bingo camp. (Even you didn’t know that was a thing.)

So, that meant more free time for you.

It meant more face masks without being called Micheal Myers in them— and certainly more walking around without a bra because it was so relaxing. And here you were, draped on your black loveseat with a fluffy night gown cloaking your figure.

Popcorn and skin serums were littered about, and the TV remote was somewhere lost in the coffee table’s mess. As the movie continued to play, you resorted to painting your nails, keeping them a nice onyx color.

“Please don’t! Please! Please! Aaah—“

Another scream with another kill.

You mocked her scream, laughing to yourself. These movies were so unrealistic and awfully—

Thump.

You snap back immediately, eyes wide as you pause.

“Pip!”

Oh my gosh, that stupid Caleb.

You cap the nail polish, muttering incoherent curses. Caleb was your best friend since so many years, but he rarely comes over. Not that you want him to come over, that is, but he’d usually message you before he does.

You grabbed your crow blanket from the side, wrapping it around you like a make-believe dress. Your door kept thumping with impatient knocks, and you swung it open annoyingly.

“What in the world do you want at this hour?”

There, the brunette was holding a gym bag over his shoulder, his knuckles frozen mid-air in another knock. His smile is enlightening, and you immediately forget why you’re upset.

“Oh! I just wanted to make a pit stop at your place before I head to a party— do you mind?” he digs in his pocket, “Aaand here’s my payment for my stay.”

He opens his palms to reveal a ziploc bag of sliced apples, making you raise a brow in utter disbelief.

“Really…?”

You swipe your nose, accidentally wiping some of the face mask off. Cursing you stood aside, motioning him forward,

“Just get in, and keep those damn apples— I’m in the middle of something important.”

“Gee…” his voice trails, and he notices the television replaying an old favorite, “Watching scary movies at night again? Remember how you got—“

Your glare hushed him instantly, and you slammed the door, pushing past the big brute. Sure, he might be tall and almighty, but you had that swiveling control in you to keep him from getting too big of himself.

“I’m not 13 anymore, let me watch my stuff in peace,” you watch him drop his bag on your seat, “That’s my seat you idiot!”

He doesn’t listen, and takes the spot beside it, stretching out his legs. You noticed his black apparel then; a simple pair of dark jeans and his striped crewneck. The necklace you gave him glinted with the TV’s flashing light, making it sparkle a little more.

He was so fucking hot, but you weren’t that bold to say it. Caleb was almost done with aerospace academy, and graduating top in his class. You were confident that some much prettier girls his type were pining after him, so you didn’t bother.

“You sure do know how to make yourself comfortable,” you mumble, leaning behind him on the couch, “What’s the party you’re going to?”

His eyes are locked on the screen, watching the next victim get brutally stabbed. It should be concerning, but you weren’t the least icked by it— and Caleb wasn’t either.

“Some new freshman party, with drinks and stuff,” he sounded disinterested, “I’m going with a friend so it won’t be too bad.”

“Since when do you hang out with freshman?” you laugh, giving his head a light wack, “And since when did you have friends?”

“Hey!” he turns, frowning, “A guy like me can make friends, thank you very much.”

You shrug, and stand behind him for a while more. His shoulders rose slightly with each breath he took, and you’d glance at him and then the screen every so often. Then, you got a whiff of metal.

Quietly, you lean forward, sniffing his hair lightly. It smelled like dirty mahogany, and then…dirt. You grimaced, poking his cheek,

“You smell like shit y’know.”

You only got a hum in reply. But then again, your friend is stupidly stubborn. You make your way forward, collecting all your serums from the coffee table to take upstairs.

Once you show a horror movie to him, he’s never going to look back. You remembered one time when the both of you were playing outside, he wouldn’t move from behind the tree, and simply watched a snake eat a cute little mouse. Creepy, but you weren’t that different either.

You made your way upstairs, the steps below you creaking with your weight. You shoot one final glance at Caleb, but he’s as still as you found him.

Your room was the biggest in the house, and that was because Grandma insisted you have it. Your closet was somewhat spacious, and your bathroom was about 1/4 the size of your room. You entered it, turning on the buzzing light as you dumped the glass vials on the sink’s top.

You carefully placed each serum back to its spot behind the mirror and then some into your mini fridge. You turned on the water, letting it run warm. Lastly, of your most tiring routine to prevent a mess, you slipped on your fluffy bracelets and handband. You looked silly in the mirror, but beauty costs apparently. You then washed the mask off your face.

A few minutes later, and then some moisturizer, you were done. You still had some annoying bumps on your cheek, and no matter what new cream you used, they never came off. You sighed, getting ready to go downstairs.

“I told you to wait for me, didn’t I?”

You stopped, and then squatted.

“No…you’re fucking insane…I said, no.”

Who in the world was he talking to? You wrapped your blanket a little tighter, and then crawled forward a bit. The stairs railings covered your form, and you’re thankful because Caleb was digging through his bag.

It was actually the first time you’ve seen him angry too. His voice was commanding, and he practically yelled at the small device.

“If you dare, then I will not hesitate to…Sylus!”

You heard a loud beep.

The call must have ended because he threw his phone across the living room. Poor thing must’ve seen better days.

He took a deep breath, and his eyes were closed shut. Right now is definitely not the time to go down…so you took that moment to crawl back up quietly.

Then, footsteps started getting near.

He’s coming upstairs.

You sweared under your breath, racing to your room and pretending to look for something in your closet.

“Pipsqueak? Hello?”

He sees you buried half-waist in your closet. You tossed one old shirt after another, humming a tune to keep yourself at bay. Unfortunately at this moment too, you really needed to clean your closet.

“Oh Caleb!” you pop your head out a bit, “Hey! What’re you doing in my room?”

You playfully throw one of your pants, but it was a poor throw and it barely made it two feet before you. The man was leaned on your doorway, his legs cross as he snickered at you.

“Nothin’ I was just checking up on you since you were up here for a while…”

His gaze follows to the open door of your bathroom, and he grins,

“Say, you don’t mind if I hop in your shower really quick?” he raised his hands before you spoke, “I won’t use your shampoo!”

You grimaced, and looked down at your closet. There were so many pants you’ve never bothered wearing, and they were still new with the price tags. With a sigh you replied,

“Fine, but I better not see your pubes in my drain.”

“Alrighty— wait.”

You shared a laugh with him, but it didn’t take long for it to die down. He left you alone to retrieve some of his clothing downstairs, and you let a long held-in breath out. You plopped back forward onto your heap of clothes, hugging them tight.

Something is definitely up with Caleb, and it simply doesn’t feel right. And who was Sylus? As far as your memory could reach, you’ve never heard that name before. Was he a friend of Caleb as well? Or a coworker?

Or were you just jealous?

But then again, he didn’t seem like a friend. Because…friends wouldn’t yell at each other— would they?

You heard his footsteps climb up again and into your room. He chuckled at your crouched form, and commented slyly,

“I can see your underwear, pipsqueak.”

Immediately, you reach down to cover your ass, your face a furious red. He was lucky to escape your fury and head straight inside the other room.

“Stop staring then!” you growl and bang on the bathroom door, “You pervert!”

From your messy pile, you pick out some pink shorts and slip them on. It was best not to be a temptation anyway, and then made your way downstairs.

You went to play another movie, and was about to reach the remote, but then spotted Caleb’s phone under the couch. You look around for any prying eyes, and then crouch down to grab it.

His phone case was a slick red, and his homescreen was a picture of the both of you during your younger days. Now that left his password to be discovered. Out of curiosity, you put your birthdate— and then nearly grimaced when it unlocked the phone.

“Sylus…?”

You swiped down to see several missed calls, and then some texts. You were tempted to click on the chat, but then last minute, decided otherwise. This was an invasion of privacy—

Ding!

You look down at the screen.

I arrived.

Arrived? Arrived where? Skeptically, you tossed the phone back under the couch, and then focused your gaze on Caleb’s bag. His towel was peeking out, making you sigh. You might as well give it over because there was no way you were letting him borrow yours.

The moment you pulled his towel out, several other articles fell.

“Damn it…”

You kneeled to pick up a black fabric, but you felt plastic attached to it. You turned the item, and saw a ghost-like pattern on its balaclava. Its eyes and mouth looked like they were sunken down, and then painted red.

You grazed the red splotches slightly, still wet and smeared on the white mask. Was that…blood? You reached for the other articles, and saw stains that only furthered your guess.

Whose blood was this?

Swallowing thickly, you placed them all back inside, but your hands still remained soaked in blood. Shit, shit, shit. You sprinted quietly into the kitchen, and ran the water to rinse out the stains.

You felt your heart pound in disbelief. It was like an earthquake happening in your body because you couldn’t even breathe right. Caleb…Caleb is a very nice guy. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, and you knew that.

You literally grew up with him.

You should know that better than anyone.

You raise your gaze up at the window, and saw a pair of sunken black eyes stare back at you.

One blink.

Two blinks.

And then you walk backwards.

Your scream was caught in your throat as you kept your eyes locked on the other. The mask was like the one you saw seconds ago, and it nearly makes you laugh. This must be a sick prank— Halloween is near after all.

The figure raps the window with their knuckles, and you see that his fist holds a long silver knife. His other hand pointed toward the door outside, and you follow the finger, noticing that your door was unlocked.

“No…”

You whisper, and then take off in a sprint. Nearly falling, you scramble to lock the spring door, but it was no use. The figure was already there, one large hand holding it still and the knife cutting the wires agonizingly slow. They were tall, way too tall.

I didn’t watch all those movies for nothing.

You scramble back up and snatch a knife from the countertop, and then run upstairs. Golden light spills from your room, meaning that Caleb must’ve finished showering. You were going to take a step inside, but then stopped yourself.

Caleb is involved in this somehow, you can’t trust him.

So, you make the next best exit.

Your grandma’s room.

You try your best to stay silent, but it’s inevitable in an old house like yours. You quietly close the door behind you, locking it the best you could. Then, you stuck one of her rocking chairs under the knob, being the second step of security you had.

You set your eyes at the window, and you make a sigh of relief. Setting down the knife, you start dismantling the wooden frame. It took several hits before it broke down, and it left the spring frame as the last barrier between you and the outside.

Though, voices from the hallway distracted you. You gaze at the door and then the window— your escape should be easy, so you can just listen in a bit. You crouched down the door, pressing your ear against the thin wood as you eavesdropped into the conversation.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

That was Caleb.

“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps saving you from rats.”

That must be the figure…

“Rats? Okay Sylus, you have gone way too far this week and it’s pissing me the fuck off,” a loud thump was heard, “Leave.”

Several more thumps were heard, and then a crash.

“I was the one to help you with your murder, and you treat me like this? That’s a kind gesture coming from you.”

Sylus was the figure then, but the whole context of the conversation was difficult to understand. Murder? Who murdered who?

“I could care less— we made it clear that we won’t meddle in personal affairs, and yet you come into my life?”

A brief pause.

“Where’s my y/n?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you began to recede from the door. The conversation was still audible, especially with the way Caleb raised his voice.

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

“I don’t know.” a chuckle, “But do tell, she found your stash— and I think she knows now.”

You bit your lip, hard. The spring barrier would not budge open, making you panic internally. It wouldn’t take long for them to start searching for you, so you needed to leave. Now.

“Sweet thing ran upstairs before I could grab her.”

Another thump, and this time it was a clearly loud punch.

“If you touch even a hair on her head, I will personally kill you.”

You reached for the knife on the bed and started cutting out a large circle on the frame. The chirps of crickets witnessed your escape, and wondered if you’d survive the fall.

“Let’s make a wager. First one to find her gets to do whatever they desire, how’s that?”

You really didn’t like this Sylus guy— and hoped that Caleb wasn’t stupid enough to—

“Fine, but if I find her you leave.”

A deep chuckle makes your bones rattle, and you can feel the goosebumps rise on your dewy flesh as Sylus speaks again.

“I personally think, she’s in there.”

Oh my god.

“No…she must be hiding in another room. Pipsqueak!”

You pushed the cut hole out, and began to squeeze yourself outside. The cold breeze hit your bare skin, and it was enough to make your teeth start shattering. You were careful on the tiles, avoiding the possibility of slipping and falling to an embarrassing death.

The feeling of adrenaline ran through your veins, and heightened at the tip of your brain— this, this all felt surreal. Your back was pressed against the brick wall of your home, but you kept a grip on the window sill as you scoured your head for ideas. There must be a way to jump or climb down safely…

“Pip!”

Your gaze shoots down, and you see Caleb several feet below you. His hands cupped his mouth as he shouted again,

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you! Stay there! I’ll—“

“No!” you grit your teeth, “You’re a maniac! I’m not going to bother!”

How he managed to get downstairs so quickly was beyond you, so the escape below was quickly ruined. You couldn’t stay up there all night, the both of you knew that. But the fear of not knowing what he does, when you thought you did…was stronger than anything.

And Caleb?

To say he’s worried is an understatement, because he’s worried and angry. How dare you not trust him? He was bound to tell you one day, just simply not today.

Yet, the fear and uncertainty in your eyes told him that it would take years before you could trust him again. You weren’t safe up there, but neither in the house. His partner was pathetic, but way too awfully sadistic.

And to him, it was better that he got you than the other.

“Pip, please,” his eyes scanned the wall for places of leverage, “I will tell you everything— everything you need to know.”

He dodged a tile from you, and your face was as stern and dark as ever. The next words that slipped from your precious lips just set his limit. He’s had up to here to handle you, and if you didn’t want his help. He didn’t care.

“Fuck off! I don’t love you anymore!”

The words felt foreign leaving you, yet at the same time, exhilarating. Your chest heaved with the urge to sob, but you held it back. You weren’t going to cry in front of a man who killed god knows how many people— and you certainly weren’t going to trust anything coming from his mouth.

His chestnut hair blew softly in the cold breeze as he stood silent below. The dark grass almost embraced him and his glare, sharp and steady to the touch. His once familiar feeling with memories and times shared was dissipated. You watched trembling in the wind, and he tilted his head, letting out a pft.

“Oh come on, you’re lying. Just,” his brows furrowed as he forced a hard smile, “Just, stay there. I’ll come up and get you.”

“No!”

You started moving to the right of the sill, nearly slipping on a tile.

“y/n.”

You turn, ready for another retort until it dies down. The man below didn’t look so happy.

“When I catch you, I’ll make sure you love me again,” he makes a brief pause, his voice like dangerously smooth velvet, “I promise you that.”

“Hm, too late.”

The gruff voice was erupted from below your waist, and you see tufts of white hair tickle your bare legs. In an instant, gloved hands grab your hips, pushing them down hard enough to make you lose your balance. The bricks scraped your hands, causing you to release a sharp painful hiss.

And you knew it was Sylus— because no one else looked at you with such sad pity and handled you with such harsh contempt. His fingertips digged on the plush of your hips as you tried scooping up tiles, desperate to escape.

“Get the fuck away from—

A blade is pressed firmly on your open lips, and it’s all you need to shut up and survive. The cold metal’s tip poked at your nose, ready to pierce the skin and scar you for life. Your throat bobbed slightly as you slowly lifted your gaze at the man, partly from disbelief and the fear of looking any other way.

“Now, that isn’t a very nice mouth you have kitten,” he lifts a brow as he sneers slightly, “I believe we’ll fix that soon enough.”

Your hands throbbed with the scratches of the wall, and it was uncomfortably mixed with the tight pain on your hips. Sylus looked awful. His hair was made of thick white locks parting from the side— which complimented his horrid red orbs.

His tall form wasn’t made believe either. Broad shoulders lifted up with his arms, swinging you over him and humming deeply with the squeak that erupts from your lips. There was something about him now that you were close up, and that “something” convinced you that if you were to even peep another word— you’d be gone from this planet in an instant.

Sylus turned slightly, spotting his partner in the farther distance. He knew that the brunette was upset, but it’s only rational if he lost the game. The corner of his lips turned slightly as he waved at the other,

“Couldn’t win at my own game? That’s just…” he pauses and taps his chin, “Oh yes, sad. In your own home, no less.”

The man below glared daggers above.

You found yourself in a predicament.

Not only with the hateful turmoil and sickening fear, but physically. It took literally your life to be as still as possible from where you were. No begging could get you out of this. And it didn’t matter who you begged to either.

Caleb sat on the other side of the living room, cleaning the stained mask you discovered earlier. His frown was the same as minutes earlier, unrelenting and as dark as ever. He’d spare glances at you every so often, maybe of worry— maybe of promise. For sure, he didn’t like the outcome of this game.

Another horror show played in the background— the infamous Frankenstein in its glorious black and white. It was your favorite, however, it just filled you with dread.

The creep who caught you had you on his lap, his legs spread so that you could sit “comfortably” on his big thigh. What stopped you from moving slightly was the threat of the knife resting in front of your stomach, eager to gut you the moment you made an innocent mistake.

His fingers rapped on the loveseat’s edge, his gaze glued to the television. He didn’t say anything to you after, and you didn’t either. You’ve seen enough tense scenes to know how things usually play out— and you hoped that some protective neighbor was righteous enough to check up on you. But that’s a really far stretch…

“The party starts soon, we should get on the road.”

Your gaze shifts to Caleb, who tosses the mask on the coffee table. He leans forward from his seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at Sylus.

“Leave her and let’s go.”

The thigh below you bounces slightly, making you shift from your center. You hear the man hum again, as if in thought. Yes, leave! Leave!

“I’ve changed my mind.”

You feel his breath tickle your ear, causing the little hairs behind your neck to rise. He’s an expert with how he talks, because it has you fighting internally to fight or flight.

“Excuse me?” Caleb scoffs, his expression in discontent, “We’ve planned this for over a month and you’re going to call it off? Since when do you call the shots?”

“I don’t recall you calling the shots either,” his voice is laced with subtle lust, “Moreover, I’d be rude if I didn’t use my dispensable prize.”

Use?

“She’s not an item,” your ex-friend growled, “And she’s more mine than yours.”

“Ah?” you feel Sylus’s hand trace your legs, his fingertips ghosting your outer thigh, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do remember her saying— what was it sweetie?”

You didn’t know he was referring to you until you felt the blade get closer to your abdomen, and it makes you reply mumblishly,

“I-I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

He sounds like he has pity, but you knew that was far from the truth. You looked up at Caleb, defiant and reflecting upon him a teary face. God, you loved him but this was not the moment. It sounded like he really wanted to leave you alone, but the fucking killer wasn’t giving him the light of day to do so.

You wanted to run far, far, far away from here and into the embrace of your Grandma. To feel her warm hugs and hear her sweet soothing voice would be utterly divine right now.

“How about we remind him?”

He whispered it so only you would hear it, but Caleb immediately understood your wide-eyed expression. The white-haired had traveled the knife up towards your sternum, reflecting your quivering eyes below.

“Do you know how it feels to be eaten?” he whispers, lips grazing the shell of your hot ear, “Like a sweet cream dessert?”

“No.”

Your voice is meek and it feels like the world has drowned out with how the knife’s blade glinted in a wicked grin.

“Tsk tsk, your best friend never ate you out?” his palm recedes back to your pelvis, palming it, “Poor thing…I can change that. You only have to say please.”

You didn’t have an option anyway. You felt your sweat trickle down your neck, making you feel sick as you whisper;

“Please.”

It only brings you a moment of relief when the blade is retracted and tossed to the side— but the moment you look up at Caleb, you already realize what you have done.

“She’s mine, and you need to fucking respect that.”

He nearly pounces from where he sat, but the dignity he has allows him to resist a while more.

“She said, please.” Sylus roughly pushes you forward, making you flail as you bend to palm the floor, “And I’m respecting that.”

Your hips are moved up, your knees lifted slightly from its kneel. Blood rushes to your head and breathing alone in this position is difficult to say the least.

The slasher squeezes your ass, massaging its mounds as he teases Caleb once more,

“She’s quite the fortune you’ve been hiding partner, it’s very sad that I’ll have the first taste of it.”

“You’re on thin ice, Sylus,” he spat, “I’m going to—“

“Oh but I’m not going to be rash— you can have her after I’m done. Like a dog fed scraps.”

You didn’t have to see to know Caleb wasn’t very pleased with the analogy. He angrily huffed and leaned back on the couch, his leg bouncing impatiently as he stared back at the television.

“Now, where were we?”

The man behind squeezed your ass once more before reaching the hem of your pink shorts, making you twitch slightly from your position. The gloves made his touch cold on your skin as you felt the cloth be pushed down to your knees, pooled along with your panties.

He didn’t say another word and lazily stroked your folds, taking whatever horrid turn-on you had leaked off you as temporary lube. Hell, it was like he was preparing food— difference is, you’re alive on the dish.

His thumb prodded at your hole, making small circular movements to see what reaction he could evoke from you. When you didn’t say much, he traveled his hand down to your clit. Slight pressure was pressed on the tiny bud, and you bit your lip to suppress any noises that’d accidentally escape.

He hummed, “Well, well. I suppose it takes more than light teasing to please a woman like you, hm?”

Yeah. You dead would please me.

As if hearing your thoughts, he dragged your hips forward harshly— evoking a squeak as you found leverage on the man’s thighs. Your front thighs rested on his shoulders, his hot breath fanning your slick pussy. The thought of being ate in front of Caleb was embarrassing, and you hoped that his love for horror would distract him from seeing you unraveled like this.

Before you could feel the rapture, the familiar cold metal was pressed on your skin yet again. It traced your thighs, making your skin raise slightly at the rifts and turns it delicately made.

“Now this is something worth filming,” he chuckled, “Hey partner, get the camera.”

To your surprise, Caleb didn’t retort. He simply stood up, then left for a brief moment, and returned with an old camera. It was one of those old style ones that were considered the 2000’s aesthetic— but considering the situation, it didn’t look quite attractive.

You slowly lifted your head to see him stand before you, your head at the perfect position before his pelvis. He catches your gaze and gives you a sad smile,

“Don’t want to see me, huh pip?”

He reaches for his cleaned mask and plops it on his persona. His eyes became invisible to you, and only that looming ghost face taunted you as it turned slightly down. The rest of the balaclava covered his head and neck, making his reactions discreet to you.

The click of the camera was heard, and then some buttons pushed, and then a gruff reply,

“Make it quick, I don’t want to see her like this.”

The white-haired grins, his finger motioning Caleb forward,

“I’ll let you take her front, but don’t be so pissed. We can attend that long-awaited party sometime later.”

You feel your heart race, and to your content, not a word is heard from your friend. The camera must’ve been recording, because a foreign wet muscle immediately plunged on your cunt. Your hands instinctively fly to your mouth, covering it with all the strength you had left. Your nails dug into your cheek, but it was no less stressful than the knife still tracing your thighs.

Sylus’s tongue darted across your pussy, teasing your clit softly in contrast to his heated breaths. You tasted divine and musk, the sweat from running away still lingered— and it excited him more. He’d be lying if he said he could’ve had all the pussy he wanted at the party, but discovering your existence and worth to Caleb…well that was just much better.

He does love a friendly rivalry after all.

Your legs shivered below him, getting untensed as you were deceptive to yourself. His gaze even met his partners, whose cock was rock hard and bulging through his jeans. Sylus gave one last lick on your clit, then gave one large lap on your hole— savoring the iridescent slick that dripped slowly from you. He pressed his knife on your cunt, flat and careful as he watched you twitch at the contrasting temperature.

You were way too cute writhing under. He was slow and taunting with you, giving languid licks as your fold parted each time. His saliva was warm and your mind grew fuzzy as you tried to focus on the rationale you tried to keep.

In front of you, Caleb was already riled up. His breathing could be heard from under his mask as he enviously watched the fucker in front of him devour your cunt. It should’ve been him doing that to you.

To lap up your cunt like a hungry dog and eat you the way you actually deserve— not slow and strict like this. He would’ve had you sat on his face, rocking your hips on his nose as you sang sweet melodies to his ears. He would’ve had you begging to go faster, deeper, and harder— but, it remained as fantasies.

Instead, your face was a blushing mess, and you were struggling to moan. He didn’t want you making a single noise for a man undeserving like Sylus, and it was coincidental that his cock was aching to be part of the action.

You felt your hair be tugged slightly, making you lift your head groggily. Your eyes were watery as you stared at Caleb motion you to his crotch,

“I’ll help you, pip, but help me first.”

You instantly refused, trying to dip your head back into Sylus’ lap— however, it didn’t go as you intended. Caleb kept your hair in a fist, keeping you slightly in place, and then he signaled his partner;

“Hold the camera.”

Sylus lifted his red eyes slightly, then hummed. Your pussy thrummed as he kept making slow licks, teasing your aching hole with the tip of his tongue. He was too content to bother, but considering the sake of ruining you— it should be well worth it. You watched as the camera was exchanged, and your friend unbuckle his jeans.

The mask covered any visible pleasure he had, but you didn’t need it to know. Caleb’s cock stood face to face with you, his tip leaking tiny beads of precum. His hair was kempt below, a happy trail making it if not more attractive to see. That is, if you weren’t scared of fitting that entire bulging thing in your mouth.

“Open up kitten,” Sylus pressed the knife tauntingly over your soaked folds, “Can’t keep the pup waiting.”

He watched as the other forced your wet lips open, your held-in saliva stretch as you took his length inch by inch. Your cheeks began to puff and you nearly gagged trying to breathe.

Caleb rocked his hips slowly, still fisting your hair as he grunted through the mask. Your tongue traced the bottom of his cock, your drool escaping your lips, trickling all the way down your chin. The other moved the camera to your pussy, zooming in with the blade’s light movement on parting your folds.

Sylus then stabbed the knife on the edge of the couch, making you flinch slightly. Noticing your fear, he grins,

“Oh don’t worry sweetie, I wouldn’t impale you— with a knife that is.”

Caleb sped up his thrusts, practically fucking himself in your mouth with sloppy noises resounding along with the television. You felt his cock kiss your throat happily, sliding along your wet cavern with ease. You heard his gruff moans through the mesh of the mask, holding himself back from spilling his seed inside you.

Your jaw ached with pain, your nose meeting his lavender-scented happy trail— but you were too far dumb to recognize his pretty lying. Behind you, Sylus chose to slip a finger in your pussy, the camera witnessing his leather gloves get soaked with your slick.

One push, then another, your sweet pussy made tiny pop nosies every time he took out his finger— and then once more as he slipped it in. He curled his index finger downwards, pressing against your squishy insides.

Your throat gurgled with a suppressed moan, making you vibrate around Caleb’s dick pleasurably. Then, the perpetrator decided to slip two fingers, stretching you wide as he finger-fucked you slowly.

It felt like a big build-up, and your friend was growing sloppy with his thrusts, curses spilling from under his mask. You just looked adorable with tears slipping down your beautiful orbs, and you needed something to adorn it.

In one more thrust, he pulled out, then slapped his cock somewhat gently on your lips. Your cheek fell victim to his release as he spurted himself on you, a long languid groan escaping his heaving chest. Your hand trembled as you reached to touch your cheek, and you could barely analyze the sticky mess before Sylus slipped another finger in you.

A sweet cry erupts from you, making you fall face-forward again on Sylus’s lap. The camera watched as he sped up his pace, his three fingers in a curl as he squished your spongey pussy for that incoming squirt. He wasn’t new to a woman’s body, so he already knew you were ready once your hips started fucking themselves on his palm.

“That’s it, chase it.” his voice is tinged with amusement, and he zooms in to your blushing folds, “Show the camera how you squirt for us.”

On command, your cunt squirts onto his black wear, creating a darker wet patch. You’re practically mewling with your raising hips, overstimulated with his unrelenting fingering, keeping you on another edge as he stroked another release.

Caleb’s cum is smeared on the others lap as you stuff your face between the strong thighs, making your final moan muffled and loud as you tremble. The white-haired finally pulls out, his gloves wet with your sticky fluid and beaded release, making him grunt in disapproval.

“If you don’t appreciate the artwork then don’t keep it,” Caleb frowned as Sylus ripped off his glove, ready to toss it aside.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ll keep it?”

“Even better,” he snatches the wet glove, tossing it perfectly inside his gym bag, “It’ll be my snack.”

“Didn’t know you were…special like that.”

Caleb picks you up from your armpits, folding your arms around him as you still spasm with aftershocks. His hand rubs circles on your back soothingly as he glares from under his mask,

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, and it’s best to keep it that way.”

Sylus grimaces, his red eyes narrowed as he thought of a reasonable argument. It was one thing to be surprised, yet another to be threatened. Both men had their fair share of encounters and killings, yet it didn’t matter because it was so difficult to learn about one another.

So seeing each other “bond” over you was more than necessary for their ever-lasting relationship. With a sigh, Sylus lifted himself from the couch, stretching his arms as he prepared himself for the main course.

“Anywhom, let’s get straight to the point. You want to fuck her and I want to film, how’s that?”

“There’s no benefit in your end.”

The other chuckled as he undressed himself, taking off his blazer and other hunting gear.

“Oh how right you are, I forget you still have a brain in that sick head of yours.”

Caleb sat in Sylus’ place, keeping you on his lap as he positioned you slightly over his cock. Your head lolled around your shoulders, your brain fuzzy as you tried to make out the television’s grey pictures. However, it was soon covered with toned abs, pale and leading down to another weeping cock.

Your chin was lifted slightly, and you were met eye to eye with the horrid man again. Beneath you, your panties and shorts were torn off, and another cock rubbed itself on your glistening folds. Its fat tip pushed slightly in your stretched hole, being gentle as it slipped inside with your tight grip.

“I’m glad we meet again, it’s been a while since we saw eye to eye.”

You didn’t have the energy to laugh at his sick joke, and the night’s events were draining you of your energy and awareness. Your hips were gripped tightly as they were pushed down onto the dick below you, fully engulfing it with a breathy moan. Sylus takes advantage of your open lips, and shoves his cock aggressively into your throat.

Your eyes squeeze shut as he grabs a fistful of your locks, keeping himself in control of you. He was balls deep, his girth hard to take in as your lips fully wrapped around his base. You probably looked pathetic like this, his hips snapping ruthlessly as the camera swung over your face.

The sickos will watch the tape for nights on end, and you knew that. Your consciousness was only maintained with the slam of skin beneath you, Caleb’s moans audibly heard as he used you like a fleshlight. Your pussy was sweet to the thrust, making lewd noises as he sunk himself in your warmth. It felt like absolute heaven to be in you, and in his mind, he still had a million positions to try out with you. You could be passed out or sleeping by the time he did all of them, but it wouldn’t matter— your muffled moans and trembles of your body was enough to know that you found pleasure in them as well.

“You’re doing so good for the camera sweetie.” Sylus gasped, his head tilted back as he felt his release coming in, “Fuck— such a good girl like this.”

Your tits bounced with each slam, roll, and grind of the men, completely disregarding your mewling moans. Another cumshot hit your throat, making you gargle as your hands reached for the waist in front of you. Your strength was simply not enough to push him away, because he kept fucking himself in you, pushing his cum down your throat forcibly.

Your nose burned and your jaw ached with the relentless brutality, but so was your legs. Caleb was like a dog panting over your ear, losing himself as squeezed your breasts and fingers fumbled over your clit.

You felt like you came every second, your legs and mouth adjusted to being wide open to every attempt. You were like a rag doll being manhandled in every position, stuffed and folded to their content. You lost count of the praise they gave you, as well as the subtle threats if you dare let their cum drip out of you.

It was overwhelming.

But. So.

Fucking.

Good.

The sound of television awoke your slumber, and you moved to thrumming aches in your body. It took you awhile before your eyes adjusted to blinking lights, and you turned, seeing the television still on.

It was still playing the slasher movie, making you confused as you stared at your surroundings. Nothing was off— nor was there sight of Caleb.

Your coffee table still had your serums and the slightly-open nail polish. You were enveloped in your crow blanket, nestled on the loveseat of the living room.

“God, I need to stop watching scary movies.” you mumble, slapping yourself on the face with a wince, “Caleb was right, they’re not for me.”

Your brows instantly furrowed as you stared at your hands. The blinking lights made you doubt what you saw for a second, but then it was as clear as day.

Your palms were scratched.

As if you were climbing bricks.

Your eyes widened as you threw the blanket off yourself, your mind running over the not-so-fake dream. It can’t be real, it absolutely can’t. Your thoughts were soon interrupted, and you turn, seeing the vibrating kitchen phone.

Unknown caller ID, receive voicemail? Press 1 to accept. Press 2 to decline.

You sprinted to the kitchen, ignoring the ache in your legs as you frantically pressed 1. The sky was still dark, and you listened to the following beep,

“I never got to ask sweetie, so I’ll leave this message.”

A brief pause.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

work and rights belong to me, laurel.

[toxic-embrace]

Been getting really into the idea of bruising someone’s cervix. Railing them so hard the pressure makes it feel like they‘re going to explode. Them losing their composure more and more every time my tip drives home. Shifting their organs around with my cock. Tenderizing them from the inside out. Pain making them writhe as I grip their hips and hold them almost all the way down my length. Closing their legs to try to stop me from forcing in the last inch. Me doing it anyway. Their writhing turning to shaking and screaming.

Starting out as “you’re way too big for me” and ending up as “why the fuck did you do that, that was awful. You’re still way too big, fucking hell. I don’t wanna do that again.”

Doing it again.

[sleep-0deprived0]

Monster mating season~! ૮₍ ' ꒳ '₎ა

Taglist: @asher-is-hotxp @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts @gayaristocrat @whatupbishs @dearestlitteleaf @nightshadelover12 @galiadeeznuts @piercing-gaze @literallyrousseau

Just imaginin a late night walk, clearing your mind, Y'know it was a bad idea especially durin matin season but what's the worst that could happen to a man like ya self?... oh were you jus shocked when a tall lanky beast pulled you off your path, drool foaming past its lips dripping down its chin with its claws tearin up your pretty lil sweater having you all exposed laying helpless underneath him, it's cock errect and leakin a puddle on the grass while its veins protrude N' pulse all needy— the monster was so hard it was painful

Jus imaginin having a monster on top of you, pinnin you down face down N' tha leafs with his cock pounding inside you, your rim all spread around him sloppily with a slick sound while he grunts N' huffs in your ear bout puttin a baby in you talkin bout how he "needs T' make young" or you "giving offspring", he doesn't even care if you don't have a pussy, a hole is a hole and he'll use em all- minus the mouth- he needs T' save his seed N' pump it all inside your hole to make sure you're nice N' well bred

Jus imaginin the monster having you all broken and doll like heaving N' gripping onto a tree for dear life while his claws paw at your tummy groaning tryin to make you understand he needs to pus something inside your nonexistent womb! Why can't ya jus see he only wants what's best— his teeth in your neck letting out whines of frustration while he pounds into you makin sharp pains roll down your thighs into your calves from all the blows your prostate was takin from that bulbous tip.

Jus imaginin limpin away from that encounter leakin cum all down your thighs with your hole ruined unable to clench up anymore- thinkin you're free from the monster but nope he follows you back home clingin to you- that wasn't jus sex to him that was a whole matin caroming- you're his now N' he has young to raise in your tummy...that's weird? Why can't his seed take to you? Why aren't you pregnant yet— did he not give you enough seed to reproduce— he'll just have to give you more N' breed you over until you're finally knocked up.

[thecorefrisk]

WARNING: pseudocest/incest, Bruce Wayne x reader, kind of voyueristic?, in his office guys, this kind of stuff has dub-con/non-con implied guys, I describe the reader’s clothes and they wear glasses, etc.

Oh, nothing, just thinking about Bruce Wayne fucking his daughter in his office!

Your skirt, the skirt he bought for you and told you to wear, tossed to a crumpled pile on the floor somewhere, panties hanging around your thighs. Pretty and perfect and trembling under his touch. Your glasses sitting askew on your face, all fogged up and messy and, fuck- you can’t even see him all that clearly but you can feel him.

You can feel each aching pulse of his cock as he draws back only to push himself back in deeper and deeper until all you can feel is the wild, buzzing fire in your skin, each clench of your cunt around him, hungry and drooling, and him.

You barely restrain a sob as he pulls back. So slow. So gentle. He kisses your mouth like that, swallows every sound of misery, every shameful moan, and encourages each involuntary twitch of your hips with a thumb on your clit.

You want more. You shouldn’t.

He wants you to take it.

You’re on his desk, legs pushed up and over his shoulder and hands tied tight behind you. You’re making a mess. He is too.

You’re the only one that cares.

He slips ‘I love you’s’ to you like you’re the only one that deserves them.

He presses his forehead to your own, leaning down and pressing your legs back, pushing himself deeper inside somehow and forcing a keen out of you.

And he just nuzzles your nose against his, gives a kiss to your forehead, a kiss to your cheeks, to your mouth, before snapping his hips into you—a harsh thrust that has your cunt, already weeping and starved of something it shouldn’t even be craving, that it shouldn’t even know the taste of, fluttering around him wildly.

A sob finally leaves you, and it has him pressing a smile into your skin, a soft coo escaping his mouth like you were just a child who skinned their knee for the very first time.

He loves you. You love him.

He loves fucking you. (He shouldn’t.)

You’ll learn to. You will.

You have to.

[shyvampgirlll]

Kidnapper/Masked man in woods xreader

Tw: Noncon, slapping, choking, kidnapping, mentions of r@pe, forced to watch porn, manhandling, fingering, noncon creampie, dark stuff- be mindful pls this is dark content!

a/n: i really like this one.. :3

you weren’t alone.

you realized it when you had a sick feeling of being watched.

you don’t know what you were thinking, going for a run in the woods. There was a trail you thought, and you could ‘connect’ with nature.

But you underestimated how quickly the sun set, and how creepy the atmosphere in the woods had become.

You had to have looked back atleast a dozen times.

but nothing. there wasn’t anything, or anyone behind you.

that wasn’t true, since rather sooner than later a man, bulky and tall, had chased you through the woods. The front of his shirt had been covered in blood. His face covered by a mask.

it’s was almost a horrific sight. fear pulsed through your veins but you forced yourself to run.

Ran as fast as you could, on pure adrenaline. the trail ahead of you didn’t seem familiar anymore and you didn’t know where you were going.

A hard body slammed yours to the ground. struggling was useless. He was strong. A little too much.

“stop! let go.. of me!”

“shh. shut up. pretty little doll like you, running at the woods at this time? must be stupid.”

his voice came out deep and rough.

you begged and pleaded, asking him to spare you, but he ignored you. He flipped you over, eyes raking over your body before his rough hands wrapped around your throat,

he ignored your flailing arms and kicking legs,

“shhh, just go to sleep, my pretty girl.”

You thought that was it. he was going to kill you. You couldn’t breathe.

and soon enough everything went black.

———————-

That’s how you find yourself as you wake up.

your throat tender and sore. your body felt weak.

you looked around, confused and still dazed from being unconscious before memories of being attacked in the woods resurfaced.

You were horrified. Because you didn’t remember what happened after, and you certainly did not recognize the cabin you were in now.

He kidnapped you.

you were in a living room. a dim lamp lit up the space. leather couch next to where you were chained on the floor. an old tv in the middle.

a heavy chain tied one of your legs to the floor. Your hands had been tied together with rope.

You scream. yell for help, and cry.

But nothing. You were alone and no one heard you. deep down you knew no one was coming to save you.

A few moments later, you hear heavy footsteps and the same man who terrorized you in the woods walks in.

“finally wake up, baby?”

he still wore a mask, you couldn’t see his expression. only that his eyes had crinkled as he spoke. he must have been grinning.

You immediately start backing up, and he walks closer and closer to you.

“y-you asshole! don’t come any closer..!”

“mm. that’s not how good girls talk. watch that mouth”

He turns away from you and grabs what looks like a tv remote.

the old tv that sat in front of you, turns on with a click.

you sat afraid and confused. what was your role in any of this? was he just going to sit down and watch tv?

wrong.

he walks up to you and easily grabs your ankle. you scream and thrash when he touches you but he only unchains your leg.

You quiet, getting your hopes up and think you have a chance to escape.

But he just hauls you up and throws you on the couch. your hands being tied up along with his strength, gave you absolutely no chance to run from him.

“no running, little girl. Not anymore. ya’ just looked so pretty and soft, had to take you home with me.”

“fuck you! you’re a fucking pervert! you can’t just take me!!”

“oh yeah? like fuck i can’t”

He sits himself on the couch, next to where you lay sprawled. Your body positioned awkwardly.

his huge frame took up the space with ease. you could feel his thigh touching your leg. A big, burly man like him surely did make the cabin itself look small.

he groans and lifts you up again, this time placing you directly on his lap. your back to his chest. He immediately held your legs with his own. trapping you. Right on top of him.

he pets your hair, the new profound gentleness catching you a little off guard, so you flinch.

but he takes his time rubbing over your hair and then the side of your face, as the background noise of the television added to the uncomfortable atmosphere he created.

“please just let me go home..”

“this is your home, baby. ya’ gon stay here with me. don’t like yer new home?”

you look back at him, trying to plead with your eyes. you didn’t know what to say to that.

“now. you gon’ behave? no more screamin’ and yelling?”

you don’t reply. you knew it didn’t matter what you had to say.

his thick arm wraps around your front, pinning you even closer to him.

He moved behind you, and you saw that he held the remote again. this time changing through channels.

The screen infront of you flashes as different channels get changed, and then he pauses at what seems like movie.

A horror movie.

It was low quality. In the scene playing, there was a woman hiding in her room. From the supposed serial killer hunting for her.

flashes of dead people, her family members, that he already had found, popped up. And you turned your head away from the gruesome scenes infront of you.

You didn’t wanna watch this.

you begin to cry. tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

His harsh grip mushed your face, and turned you to face the Tv again.

“please..no.. turn it off.”

“watch. it.”

you squirm on his lap, only to be swatted on the thigh. hard.

it hurt.

“quit moving and watch the fucking movie or I leave you chained up in the woods, naked.”

that made you still. it was all so degrading.

His grip still held your face, you had no choice but to watch as the woman who had been hiding got found, and the killer shoved her to the ground.

He gets on top of her and starts pulling at her clothes. and before you knew it she laid bare under him, squirming and calling for help. But the killer just forced her to comply.

this was not a regular horror movie. it was more like porn. a rape scene.

you had never seen anything like it.

“i don’t like it..! please don’t make me-“

another hard swat on your thigh.

“you just testin’ my fucking patience little girl. don’t know how to listen? now i gotta be mean.”

you didn’t understand what he meant until he began stripping your bottoms. your shirt and underwear coming off soon after.

The woman on the screen visibly got assaulted by the killer as he forced himself inside her, you couldn’t believe what you were being forced to watch.

what you couldn’t believe either was how wet you were getting. you could feel it, dull throbbing on your clit.

at the same time, a slap lands on your mound, and you jerk in his lap. another, then another across your tits.

“ow! p-please stop..!”

he hit hard. and you couldn’t escape them, flinching as his hands roamed over you.

“see wha’ he’s doing to her? see how she’s struggling? poor girl cant run away from it”

you whimper and cry when he spread your legs wide, fingers immediately going to your pussy.

You shifted in his lap, running from his touch but you only ending up leaning further back into him.

He rubs at your pussy, before bringing his fingers up to your mouth.

His other hand mushed your cheeks again, forcing your mouth to open against your will.

He forced his fingers inside.

“suck. get em all lubed up for your pretty little hole”

you shake your head. or try to.

That gets you a slap. across your face this time.

“still not behaving. only gonna make me rougher baby”

His fingers prod at you again, slowly sinking into you. the scene infront of you not getting any better.

One hand mushed your face together. forcing you to watch the horror film and the other fingered you roughly. spreading your slick all over.

the woman on the screen was now flipped over, the killer pulling her ass up and sticking his dick inside. she looked like she wanted to crawl away, and he let her for a moment. letting her crawl away naked, before dragging her by her hair backwards.

you whimper as you watch the scene unfold. it was so gruesome, but you realized your pussy had leaked even more.

He took his fingers out. your thighs shook.

“pathetic. soaking my pants. you like this?”

He lifts you again slightly, pulling his own pants lower this time. you squirm again and he punishes you for it. by shoving you on his hard cock.

The intrusion made you scream.

he was big. his cock thick and big. His grip on your face loosened enough for you to look down at where you were connected.

He was too big for someone like you. Your little hole struggled to accommodate him.

you could see it in your belly when he thrust into you, using you like a fleshlight.

“p-please!”

your head had started to get fuzzy, pain subsiding after a few moments and you could feel pleasure forming in your lower belly.

it felt good.

he chuckled at your cries, his pace speeding up as he held you immobile in his arms.all you could do was moan and whimper while he used you.

“feels good don’t it baby? eyes on the screen.”

you shake your head no but that earns you another slap across your face.

“don’t lie to me, yer’ a fucking filthy girl watching horror porn and clenching ‘round me like your life depends on it. lie again you’ll get a beating not just a slap”

you fully gave up on struggling, head falling back on his shoulder.

“gonna ruin this fucking pussy. baby’s gon’ be so sore isn’t she?”

It was too much. his filthy words, and his roughness.

you could feel yourself get close at the same time his thrusts grew sloppy, he buried himself deeper and deeper, holding both your legs with his arms now, the lewd position made you feel even more exposed.

“gonna pump ya’ full of cum, so much of it that you’ll feel full for days”

that woke you a little.

“no…! please don’t cum inside!..”

“ya’ don’t get to decide that, stupid girl.”

his thrusts sped up as your orgasm hit, fucking you through it, and you could’ve sworn you saw stars.

everything went blurry and you felt him fill your little tummy up, all while you continued to cry.

His thrusts slow, and soon enough he stops, cock plugging your hole. you felt so sore and sensitive from his abuse.

the woman in the scene laid on the floor, the killer sparing her life but leaving her alone naked.

You could see her holes sticking out, left violated and leaking. it was so very taboo. but your eyes were glued to the tv, even though you weren’t forced into looking anymore.

soon enough your captor does the same as he draws his cock out, your own slit leaking globs of his cum.

“hate you.. it hurts..”

“shh. did so good, crybaby. pretty hole made a mess on me. and this ain’t the last time”

he brought his hand to your pussy, scooping up his cum and bringing it to your mouth.

you turn your head away again, and this time he grips your hair and forced you to suck off his cum coated fingers.

you gag as he reaches the back of your throat, coughing as he takes them out.

your legs were still spread wide and your messy hole was still on display, you were too tired to do anything about it.

you body felt weak, and slowly your head went empty. lolling to the side.

“home sweet home, my little girl”

[bashfulbottombutch]

i couldn't sleep last night because i got distracted thinking about medical kink 🙈

just... wanna find myself lying on a surgical table. naked, cold, uncomfortable, nervous. surrounded by a team of masked, scrubbed, gloved doctors

want to feel all their hands on me at once as they grope me, stroke me, tease me. their gloves feel so strange against my bare skin and my brain gets confused by the pleasure they're bringing me because it just doesn't feel quite right with that nitrile barrier between us

want them to get me all worked up, bringing me right to the edge, but never letting me slip over into bliss. want their hands to slowly settle down until my shoulders are pinned and my hips are stilled and gently, carefully, my legs are pulled apart and secured into cold, uncomfortable stirrups

and one of them takes a seat between my legs, eyes boring into my aching cunt, on full display. want to whimper and squirm as they prod at my pussy, completely unfeeling, completely clinical, despite the moans they pull out of me stroking my clit and dipping their gloved fingers into my sopping wet hole

and when they take up a syringe, i start to panic, sobbing as it disappears between my legs. struggling against the hands still holding me down, i cry out when i feel the sharp sting of an injection, whining and whimpering as my pussy starts to go numb

and when the doctor between my legs stands up again and takes out their cock, i can't help but cry. i can't feel it when they sink into me but they pull an orgasm out of me all the same, my body going through the motions of it without giving me any of the pleasure. just a swooping sensation in my stomach and a brief fading of my vision before the next doctor lines themselves up

they each fuck me, use me, make me cum without letting me really feel it, while the others hold me down, keep me still, ignoring my whines and sobs as they watch their colleagues each take a turn with me

and when they're done, when the feeling starts to come back to my pussy, i ache. i sob as my cunt throbs, as my clit twitches, swollen and oversensitive. i wait for the hands holding me down to pull away, to let it be over, but then the first doctor reappears between my legs, cock out again, stroking it as they peer down at me

"One more round should fix it," they say, plunging into me again, as the hands on me go back to groping, eager to overwhelm me as they wait for their turn...

❌ dni cis men, minors, terfs or ageless blogs ❌

[aloracreel]

SAY YOU BELONG TO ME ˊˎ-

PAIRING - Steve Harrington x Reader / Henry Creel x Reader

SUMMARY - Your husband gives you a home, and a life that never hurts. All you have to do is remember: you belong to him.

WARNINGS - 18+; MDNI. This is a dark story, featuring themes of manipulation, gaslighting, memory alteration and implied abduction. Smut with a plot: dubcon, unprotected p in v. No use of y/n. Fem!Reader.

WORD COUNT - 2.2K

A/N - Oh, good god. I don’t know what possessed me but I love it. If you like this, don’t hesitate to lmk <3

The kitchen smells like rosemary and butter, warm and grounding. You move around like you belong there: an apron tied around your waist, bare feet against the cool tile. From your lips passes a melody you don't quite remember ever learning, and yet, it fills you with comfort.

With a sense of belonging.

You peek into the oven and smile to yourself as the smell of mellow herbs takes over the kitchen. The scent is familiar, reminding you of home: the meal the kind you make when you want to feel close to someone again.

The past few months have been hard. Since four rifts cracked open through Hawkins, everything has felt off. Steve tries, he really does, but he's distant in a way people get when they don't know how to talk about grief without drowning in it. You don't blame him, but you miss your fiancé. 

You miss how things used to be between the two of you.

Your fingers wrapping around a lemon, you bring its bright yellow peel to meet the sharp ridges of a zester. The fine curls of peel stick to your skin, yet as you hear the front door opening and closing and rush to clean your hands in your apron, you don't worry about the way the fabric would smell like citrus for days to come.

"I'm in the kitchen," you call, barely managing to bite down the soft excitement in your voice. You have missed this: soft, domestic moments like these. There not to impress, but to mend.

As he steps into the kitchen, eyes twinkling as they meet yours, it's a touch of confusion that travels through you. 

A touch of uncertainty as your lips part and a knit forms between your brows.

"Smells heavenly," he murmurs as he closes his distance to you. His fingers fall to the small of your back to lead you closer to him, his other hand moving to cradle your cheek.

As the name passes your lips, your voice is barely louder than a whisper. "Henry."

Confused—though why would you be?

His voice is warm with amusement as he tilts his head. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Were you?

"No," you chuckle. "No, I just—" You glance at the clock above the fridge. "What time will he be—"

"What time will who be?"

"Steve," you manage, yet suddenly the name tastes foreign on your tongue. Wrong, like your mouth has forgotten how to form the sound.

"Steve?" Henry's thumb brushes against your cheek, soothing. "Sweetheart, that was before."

Before?

"Before I reminded you that you don't need to be lonely."

The word rings through you like a fracture untreated.

You had been lonely. 

The quiet of the house when Steve had been gone had been deafening. You had sat in front of a clock, counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until he'd be back, only for the void between the two of you to greet you in the place of your fiancé. 

Until he had filled it.

Subtle and slow, all while as certain as the rising sun, filling in the gaps of emptiness Steve had left behind.

As warm and comforting. 

As right, all of it leading to this moment: to you being home, with Henry. 

"Of course," a breath passes your lips and you shake your head with a chuckle. "I'm sorry, Henry, I don't know how I—"

His thumb moving to brush against your bottom lip silences you down. "Shh, darling. It's alright. You always mix timelines when you're tired."

"I do, don't I?" Your laugh is a breathless sound, and Henry smiles as if you had said something he had heard a thousand times before.

"It's alright," he repeats, his hand on your cheek leading you closer to him until his lips are brushing against yours.

So soft, so warm.

The kiss he guides you into so sweet. Thick with adoration and love, and the sense of belonging.

"There you are," he chuckles against your lips as you pull apart, his forehead moving to lean against yours. "My perfect wife."

"Yours," you beam, a laugh slipping from your lips as he steals a kiss and another from you. "You're distracting me, you know?"

"What could possibly be more important than this?" He chuckles. "Us."

"The food, for one," you tease. "I have to check on it, Henry."

"Then go," he murmurs, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'll set the table."

Your smile comes easy to you as you yank open the oven door and wave your hand to dissolve the steam. 

The chicken is golden brown and your stomach rumbles as you pull the dish out, careful to not burn yourself. Rosemary needles cling to the skin of the chicken, glossy with butter, the scent thick in the air, comforting. 

The thought that passes through you is fleeting: the dish is cooked to perfection, and yet it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes since you'd slid it in. 

A knit forms between your brows, and you turn to glance at the clock above the fridge. 

It reads the same as it had the last time you'd checked it. The time before then, and the time before then. 

"Don't do that."

You turn, your lips parted. "What?"

"Look for reasons to get upset." His voice is so soft, so gentle. His fingers land on your waist to trace mindless patterns on your skin through the fabric. "I built this. For us—remember?—so that you wouldn’t have to worry anymore."

Built. 

The word lands heavy.

"Our life, together," he hums. "It doesn’t matter how you ended up here. It doesn’t matter what your life looked like before this. What matters is that you’re here." His hand lands on your chin as he makes you look at him. "Where you belong. Safe."

His finger brushes over your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't realize you had shedded.

"You do that sometimes," he hums. "When you’re close to remembering things you don’t need."

"Henry—"

He kisses you.

Not slow this time. Not indulgent. The kiss is firm, consuming, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as if to anchor you in place.

Your doubt dissolves into nothingness, your protests dying down on your lips as he seems to breathe life back into you.

When he pulls back, your thoughts feel smoothed. Like all their rough edges have been carefully sanded down, sharp rocks turned into pebbles by the waves.

"There," he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "That's better."

"Better," you echo him, breathless. 

His smile is satisfied as he tilts his head ever so slightly, something darker—not dangerous—waking up in his eyes. "What do you say—," he steals a kiss from your lips, "we forget about dinner for now?"

"Won't it cool down?"

"You know that it won't," he chuckles as his hand slips into yours, the warmth of his skin against yours grounding.

It is the hand of which every mole and scar you have learned. The hand that has caressed you so many times before. 

The hand that now leads you into your shared bedroom, laughs passing both of your lips as you stumble into the room. Your kiss is sloppy, your lips too eager to pause for a breath, and it is only to guide you onto the bed that Henry breaks the touch between the two of you.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs with a shake of his head. "I can't believe you're mine."

"You better believe it," you beam as his fingers unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. As he climbs on top of you, his hand caressing your cheek. 

And he sinks in. 

"Henry—" The breath that passes your lips is thick with lust, deep with love. "God."

"That's it, sweetheart," he breathes out against your lips. "Feel it all for me."

You do.

You feel the warm and soft caress of the sheets against your skin. The subtle bounce of the mattress as Henry slides out, only to ease back in.

You feel each inch of him filling you up, stretching you open in a way that feels nothing short of meant to be. As if you are made for each other: to find pleasure from the arms of one another.

No.

Purpose.

"There you go—"

"Henry—"

"You're perfect," he nuzzles your cheek with his nose, his voice so warm it sends shivers down your spine. "My perfect wife."

"Yours."

"Say that again."

"I'm yours, Henry," you breathe out as he picks up the pace. He's brushing against your cervix by each gentle thrust, the man drinking up every moan and breath slipping from your glossy lips. "I belong to you."

The words surface from somewhere deep down, passing your lips with such ease that makes you feel like you have spoken them a thousand fold.

And each time you have meant them.

Haven't you?

"Stay with me," he coos against your lips, his hand on your cheek guiding you to look at him. "Focus, darling. On this—," he slides out of you, just to bottom out: drawing a warm breath for a name from your lips. 

The sound rings wrong in your ears, and yet it's not until you see Henry's eyes darken that you understand.

It's not Henry's name you had spoken.

"He abandoned you," he murmurs, and despite the darkness in his eyes, his voice remains soft and warm as he continues easing in and out, the pleasure of each thrust rippling through you. "When you needed him the most, you became invisible to him. And the more you begged and the more you pleaded, the more distance he took, until Steve—" Henry's hand on your jaw guides you to look at him. "Left."

Your brows furrow. "Steve left?"

"Steve left you." His eyes remain soft. "There's nothing for you out there, darling. All that you have—," his lips brush against yours. "All that you are is right here, with me. I saved you."

"Henry—"

"This is where you belong," his voice takes a nearly hypnotic quality. "Safe. Protected. Loved and adored."

It is a touch of warmth that wakes up inside you from his words, and yet as you shake your head, it is tears that well in your eyes. "But he loved me."

"No, darling. But I do. I do. And unlike him—" he coos against your lips as he eases into you once more. "I will never leave you. I will never let anything come between us."

"Henry—"

"Not even you," he murmurs as he pulls out of you, just to flip you over on the bed. 

You bounce on the mattress, a gasp passing your lips as his body pins you against the soft sheets. And with that, he sinks in from behind.

"Henry—"

"That's it, sweetheart," he purrs. "That's better. You feel every inch now, don't you?"

You do.

God, you do: the thick weight of him is filling you up in a way that makes the words echo through your clouded mind once more.

This is meant to be.

As he thrusts in you, you feel your grasp around your worries loosening. Around the doubt.

The fear.

The confusion.

"Henry," the name slips from your lips once more, thick with arousal. You can already feel it: your pleasure coiling up at the pit of your tummy. Your fingers wrap around the sheets as you look for something to hold onto.

Anything to ground you, only for his words to send you spiraling.

"Tell me."

You don't even blink before the words have slipped from your lips. "I belong to you."

"That's right, darling," he murmurs into your ear, his lips so warm and soft as they brush against your earlobe. "Stay with me. Belong to me."

"I do," you moan out. "Henry, I do—"

"I know," he chuckles. "I know, sweetheart. So let go. I got you." 

His voice is so gentle, so warm.

"I got you."

So soft as it weaves its tendrils around your mind. 

"Show me that you're mine, and mine alone. Mine to have, mine to keep. My wife."

God, please—

"Cum for me."

Your pleasure shoots through you, hot and blinding, and with that, you're sent crying out his name again and again like it's the only word you know.

No, it is the only word you know.

The only word that matters.

His lips are so gentle as they press kisses along your jawline. His voice is so soothing as he hushes you. "I got you, darling. That's it—"

"Henry—"

"I'm right here," he murmurs. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."

He guides you into his arms, and you breathe with him until your body remembers the rhythm without effort.

Until your chest is rising and falling with breaths, gentle and calm.

"That's it," Henry murmurs, lips pressing a kiss on your forehead. "Just rest."

You try, just as the thoughts try to resurface. A name. The food. The clock, and yet each thought comes apart before it fully forms.

Henry’s thumb traces mindless patterns along your arm. "You don’t need to think anymore," he says softly. "I’ll do that part for you." 

"I know," you whisper, and he smiles against your skin.

In the kitchen, the clock still reads the same.

It always will. 

[barleyo]

Frostbitten, Forbidden.

Hector Condicionado X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: another one shot with my favorite cretin. he's so lovely, i just want to eat him in one bite. hope you enjoy reading this!

Tags: dub-con, p in v, creampie, lots and lots and lots of dirty talk, sensory deprivation (eyesight)

Wordcount: 1.1k

Hector would do anything for you. He made it abundantly clear. From the moment you met him, or rather, from the moment he saw you, he knew he would make any sacrifice, any oblation, just to make you happy. No, he didn't want to make you happy—he wanted to keep you happy. A constant state of pleasure and contentment, all due to his own efforts. 

If you were tired, he would build you a bed frame with his bare hands. If you were bored, he would come up with a story to rival the telling of Shakespeare on the spot. Sad? Paw at his vent and tell him all about it. 

Fuck, he would slice his own palms and use the blood to write one of his novels for you if you wanted to do some light reading.

The only thing he couldn't do for you right now was turn up the heat. His only purpose, his one job, he simply couldn't do. Whether there was some sort of blockage in the air filters or a malfunctioning motor, nothing seemed to be working. 

Dead winter and not a single puff of air to ease your pain. 

It tore him up inside more than you would ever know, watching you toss and turn in bed, layering yourself in blankets that hardly helped. He tried for days to fix it himself. He borrowed tools from Tony, but hell if he knew what he was doing. Bang a wrench against the grate? Plead with the thermostat to co-operate? 

He felt like mold. Worse, actually. At least mold gave the world penicillin. What was he giving his beloved? Hypothermia? 

Your poor, freezing legs kicked under the thin covers in discomfort. He knew he had to do something, and he had an inkling of where his mind wanted to go, but it just seemed risky.

Then again, he'd take any risk to satisfy you. 

Your body was shaking inconsolably at this point. You were miserable. Days of straight ice and still air were starting to get to you. Truly, you were convinced it was colder outside your home than in it, but you wouldn't run the chance of finding out. You wanted nothing more than to drift into sleep, but it was too cold to even hope for a good night's rest. 

Just as you began to give up, you felt the bed dip beside you. That wasn't right. You lived alone. 

You tried to scream, but a quick hand covered your mouth. Was this the end? Jesus, why you?

"Hush, my love, it is I."

Oh. 

You slacked in Hector's grasp. You had heard his voice many times, and although it sounded a bit different outside of the vent, you still felt its comforting tones wash over you. That didn't change your confusion. Why was he out of the vent?

As if he could hear your thoughts clicking, he answered, "I couldn't stand to see you like this. Suffering, when I can do something about it."

You hummed against his palm in understanding. Your eyes flicked across the wall in front of you as you laid on your side. You wanted to flip over and see him. You tried to resist the urge, to respect his privacy, but your body acted on its own.

Hector quelled your movements sharply, firm hand turning your head to face the wall again. 

"You know I cannot have that." His calloused hand covered your eyes instead. He cupped his palm over them to keep you both literally and metaphorically in the dark about his appearances. "Don't focus on anything but my warmth. Let me help you, amor."

He hastily fidgeted with his belt, popping the buckle with overly eager hands. 

"Let me make everything up to you. Please."

"Don't you know what it does to me to have this power over you?" 

Hector had gotten much more into this than he thought he would. Obviously, a chance to get this close to you, to touch you, was heaven, but to have complete control?

This was the stuff of fantasy. 

Total domination, zero vulnerability. An opportunity to act on all the depraved things he had said to you in the vents without the fear of being judged for his looks? Sign him up.

"To have you at my mercy? To have all of your trust?" He bottomed out, pushing your face into your pillow. Gentle, as to not hurt his precious girl. "I've wanted this for so many moons. So much wasted time—god—if I knew it could be like this..."

You moaned a strangled little noise into the fluffy pillow. He hated not being able to hear the full extent of your pleasure, but there would be time for that another day.

"That's right," Hector said, voice syrupy and warm as he spoke to you, "I would've taken you much earlier."

His hands gripped your hips and forced them upwards. He dreamed about this. It nearly felt like deja vu, seeing as how he thought of bending you into these nasty positions many times before. It was almost too good to be true. 

"Maybe I would have snuck out of the wretched vent early in the morning to visit you." 

What a tease.

"Or maybe late at night. Late when you think nobody hears you, touching yourself in the dark." His hips stuttered. He didn't want to cum yet, not until you did. He wouldn't forgive himself if he messed up yet again. "I hear you. I hear every sound, every little noise you make. I turn the air up. Make it nice and loud, so nobody else gets to enjoy the show you put on."

Despite the slight uncomfortableness of the angle he put you in, you could see why he did it. He was hitting deep. Deep and purposeful. It was too much for you to handle, especially with his teasing. 

"If only you would have asked me for help. I would've been out in a heartbeat." 

A sexy, but flagrant lie. The sweet vent-dweller took to hiding deep in the vents when you masturbated, stroking himself recklessly while trying to silence his breathing. He was far too nervous to actually do anything about it and far too ashamed of eavesdropping. 

"Next time you need pleasure," he choked out, feeling your gummy walls flutter around him, "call for me."

If he had any shame in the current moment, he'd be horrified at how quickly he came after you. He was simply waiting for your body's permission before he blew.

"I'm always here for you, love."