cw: plotless smut, sub!waterboy x dom!fempov, overstimulation, sloppy handjob, mild bondage, mild tip bullying, not proofread
a/n: tumblr wouldn't let me post this wtf. anw this was birthed from ovulation after dispatch during my hiatus. enjoy.
Herman was by no means a pushover, he was just...really easygoing. a quality you both hated and loved about your boyfriend. hated because mere minutes ago he was at your doorstep covered in stains from a box of noodle slop someone threw at him at work for a small mistake he made (which brought about a tirade of concerned scolding about him not standing on business enough). and loved because you then got to help him learn to speak up more in a way that was unforgettable.
—
his soft whimpering accompanied by the persistent buzz was the best playlist you could have ever asked for as you sat before him with your elbows digging into the firm of his thighs.
"herm...how does it feel?"
he let out a choked moan as your warm breath hits his twitchy cock. the soft pink of his skin deepened towards the abused tip, small pearls of white adorning his overstimulated slit. his skin glistened beneath the half zipped water resistant uniform, a puddle slowly growing beneath the chair you had him strapped to.
"g-good! t-too much- good- hng-"
you giggled softly, extending a finger from where you rested your chin on the back of your hands to give the twitching vein on the underside of his cock a soft poke. he hissed through his teeth, eyes growing shiny as he jerked in the chair.
"please can't- so much-"
he swallowed audibly, knuckles whitening as he gripped the sides of the chair. with the way he was all cleaned up from his water abilities, nobody would have been able to guess just how long his little learning session had been going on.
"hm? what was that?"
you taunted, watching as he whimpered and grunted pathetically, sniffling as the painful pleasure buzzed on.
"love you...please...i- hng!"
he cried as he let out a generous splurt of white all over himself, wincing and jerking at the buzzer that was still ongoing. you turned it off and gently slicked back his sogged hair out of his face.
"you made such a mess, herm. you're lucky you're so cute."
you smiled affectionately at him, fingers gently pressing his mouth open to tap on his tongue. your way of getting him to gag out water to clean himself. he gave your fingers a soft nip before regurgitating the water to clean himself in between pants. you slowly untied his hands, gently rubbing the redness on his pale wrists and peppering them with kisses.
"you did so good, sweetheart."
you tell him, reveling in the way his flush seemed to deepen. he instinctively reached for your waist, hugging you close and pressing his face against your stomach as he caught his breath. his moisture and warmth seeped into your clothes but nome of it mattered more than the sweet boy starved for your affection and intimacy.
"i did...didn't i? or maybe not...i...i don't...know."
he rambled with a weak muffled laugh against you. you gave his cheek a pinch.
"what did i say about second guessing yourself?"
you chided, the implied warning behind your words crystal clear. the same thing that landed him in this position to begin with.
"s-sorry ma'am. i...i did good- great- yes."
your face softened and you gave him a kiss on the scalp.
Summary: Tony's little sister has a crush on Lip and Lip has fallen for her even if she seems like a princess.
Words: 2400
Warnings: NSFW, Dry sex / Dry humping, alcohol, marijuana
~MDNI~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n was Tony Markovich's little sister and she had the world's biggest crush on Phillip Gallagher. Lip hadn't always liked the girl, he found her too shy, always hiding in the background but the last few months, bumping into her as she leaves her brothers place to then hanging out together, he found himself falling for her. Walking sunshine would be his best description of her, followed closely by princess which she complains about although she secretly loves the nickname.
Lip was apprehensive to start anything with Tony's little sister, the man might like Fiona and by extension Lip and his family, but he was still a cop and he'd seen how scary he could be towards her boyfriend Kyle a few years back so it was no surprise she'd been single since. Y/n however was afraid Lip just wasn't into her and had been too afraid to say anything, her anxiety keeping her feelings just below the surface. It was hard though, watching him with Karen then even harder when they stopped seeing each other because now she could feasibly tell him how she feels but still the words would stick in her throat.
Tonight, she sat huddled under a picnic blanket, staring at the small crackling fire as people around the makeshift circle laughed and chatted. She glanced up when a beer bottle entered her line of sight and smiled up at Lip who was offering her the drink. "Thanks Lip, looks like it was a fight for the cooler tonight" she mused, eyeing the small group of guys that were stood around said cooler yelling at each other. "Ah, worth the fight I recon" Lip had laughed as he sat down beside her and as she tugged the blanket tighter around herself. Getting a glare from her in response, "It's not my fault I dressed for summer in summer, only for the temperature to drop like it's fall".
Lip pulled out a joint, lighting it up and taking a long drag of it, watching the smoke he blows back out dissipate into the air. Turning slightly, he offered it to y/n before remembering she doesn't smoke, "sorry, I always forget, you're a princess" he scoffed, lips curled into a playful smirk. He often made fun of her for it but never with the intention of forcing her into it and up until now she had never shown an interest either, never seemed bothered by the teasing. However, to his surprise he felt her fingers brush over his hand as she moved to take it from him causing Lip to raise a brow in surprise.
"Y'know I'm joking right? It's fine you don't smoke" Lip was quick to reassure her as he turned to face her properly. "Yeah, I know. You'd never make me do anything I didn't want to Lip. I want to try it, just been afraid of getting caught by Tony and he's working tonight, so" she shrugged, blue eyes flicking up to meet his. "Plus, I know I'm safe with you for my first-time smoking weed so, if the offer stands?" Lip nodded, that familiar warm feeling settling in his chest which he was quick to wave off as the weed even though he knew better. He handed the joint to her, explaining how to smoke it then watching as she followed his instructions.
Y/n only held it in her lungs for a few seconds before the dry burn of her lungs had her coughing. Lip reached over, rubbing her back as he laughed at her, a shit eating grin on his face. “Cat got your lung?” Lip laughed again, only to get whacked in the chest by her hand causing him to cough. Y/n shot him daggers but her lips were quirked up, her features alight with amusement the way he loved and it made him smile and that warm feeling tighten.
It only took a few minutes for it to kick in, but when it did, y/n found herself entranced by the fire, the way it moved and the flames broke off and flicked up into the sky had her captivated. Lip however was captivated instead by her, the way her eyes watched the flames and reflected them and the little gasp when it made a particularly loud crackle. At one point y/n leant into Lip’s side, his arm moving to wrap around her while she spoke, “Does it always feel this peaceful?” Lip shook his head, squeezing her lightly, “Not always, depends on the person and how often they smoke.” Y/n made a small sound in reply before smiling up at him. “I think this is the first time in my life I actually feel calm, like I can talk without everything catching in my throat, I like it” her voice trailed off as her eyes returned to the fire.
She perked up as a new song came on, “Oh! Oh Lip, I love this song” she beamed, standing up and extending her hand to him, “dance with me?” Had it been anyone else he would’ve said no but he couldn’t, not to her and with that he placed his beer down and took her hand. Y/n wasn’t a good dancer, but her awkwardness was rather endearing to Lip as they danced to a few songs, laughing freely as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Lip smiled, wrapping his own arms around her waist and hugged her back before lifting her up and spinning her around. She giggled, holding on tighter until he set her back down. Y/n expected the anxiety to bubble up as she looked up at him but instead found only the uninhibited desire to kiss him. One hand still holding his shoulder, the other moved to his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him, catching Lip off guard entirely. It took a second for him to kiss back but once he did, he never wanted to stop. It was a simple kiss, but they could both feel more, so when she pulled back, he pouted causing her to laugh.
“Walk me home?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. Lip nodded, “yeah, ‘course.” He took her hand and they headed for Tony’s house, although as they reached the foot path, the cool breeze had y/n shivering, curling into his arm. As much as he liked her being that close, he felt bad and quickly pulled away to shed his coat and wrap her in it, smiling when only her finger tips peeked through the sleeves. Taking her hand again, he was relieved when she leant back into him. As they reached the porch, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling back at him, “coming?” Lip was quick to take her outstretched hand and follow her in. They walked upstairs and she pushed open one of the doors, he looked around her bedroom before looking back at her. She was kicking off her shoes and hopping onto her bed so he followed suit, coming to sit beside her, back against the wall and feet hanging off the other side of her bed while she sat facing him, legs tucked to the side.
Her fingers brushed his hand, pulling his eyes to her, “can I kiss you again?” Lip smiled, leaning forward and she was quick to meet him halfway. This time the kiss wasn’t unexpected and Lip made sure to make it a good one. His hands sat either side of her face, fingers curling into her hair as his tongue traced her bottom lip and without hesitation she opened her mouth for him, giving him complete control as she leant into him. Her hands grasped at his shoulders and Lip moved a hand to her waist, pulling her closer until she was sat, straddling his lap. The kissing only got more heated from there, Lip ran his hand on her waist under her top, loving the way she leaned into his touch. His hand moved to her back, tracing up and down her spine before returning to her waist.
Lip broke the kiss causing y/n to whine before he pressed his lips to her neck, hands moving to shove his jacket off her shoulders. She easily shrugged it off, letting the heavy fabric hit the floor as she focused on the way his teeth nipped her neck making her gasp. “Lip” her voice came out so softly it was barely audible but their proximity meant he heard her and he smiled against her throat, “Princess?” Her cheeks reddened at the teasing tone, her fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the short pieces at the back making him groan as he looked up to her. Both of his hands sat on her hips now and he gripped them tightly, pulling her forward, grinding her against the rough denim that wasn’t doing much to conceal how hard he was in that moment. She surprised herself with the moan that escaped her throat, cheeks now a deep shade of red as she looked down at him.
“Lip, I…” her voice trailed off and Lip stopped, eyes lifting to meet hers, brows knitting together, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to” She shook her head, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before glancing down, “I want to, I really do but, you should know I’m, well I’m a virgin.” Lip felt bad, the way she whispered the word ‘virgin’ sounded like she was ashamed and his hand caught the side of her face, encouraging her to look at him, “It’s okay.” Now it was his turn for his voice to trail off as he sighed, “You’re still high though, we can’t… you’re first time should be sober.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before I invited you up here, now we’re both, I’m sorry Lip!” y/n rambled, immediately afraid she’d ruined his night and was about to hop off when Lip grabbed her hip, shaking his head, “It’s okay, we can just, make-out if you want? Or not if you don’t want to.” She shifted her weight back to the centre of his lap to kiss him however the friction had them both groaning. She was quick to apologise again and Lip was just as quick to reassure her it was okay, pressing his lips to hers in hopes of returning to the make-out session.
Lip kept his hands to her back and waist, his lips on hers or the hickey he had started earlier. Y/n however was still well aware of just how turned on they both were and decided to roll her hips against him. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the desperation for some form of friction, either way, feeling Lip dig his fingers into her waist made her smile. It wasn’t until she did it a second time with a bit more force that Lip realised it was no longer an accident, he glanced up at her with a brow raised and she bit her lip, “Is this okay?” Lip was sure he should say no and stop her, he should be decent and tell her to go to bed, but his decency seemed to stop at sex. Grinding on one another though? That was fair game. So instead, he found himself pushing his hips hard up into her, watching with a smirk as she gasped.
Things devolved into desperation after that, both tipsy and high, they wanted to feel good and their hot kisses full of tongue and teeth were only adding fuel to the fires burning in them. Lip was now gripping y/n’s hips tightly, using them as leverage to drag her over his now painfully hard cock, grunting as he pressed his lips to the crook of her neck. Y/n was no better, the previous slow rolling of her hips was now faster and getting uneven like her breathing, the small whimpers and moans only pushing Lip closer to his own climax. “Fuck, princess, you sound so sweet” Lip groaned against her ear, kissing her temple then her lips. She had avoided speaking, knowing sentences weren’t going to be achievable right now but she stuttered nonetheless, “so close, Lip, so” her voice cut off with a particularly harsh thrust from Lip. “Lip, Lip please, Lip,” she whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as she chanted his name. She came moments later, body tensing as she cried out his name while Lip kept her moving as until he came too, groaning against her chest.
Y/n began to come down from her high, head resting against his shoulder as she got her breathing back to normal. Lip held her tightly still, arms now wrapped around her waist and his head leant back against the window. They stayed like that for a while, both enjoying the euphoria and comfort within one another before finally y/n leant back, cheeks red as she looked at Lip. He was quick to kiss her before leaning back to meet her eyes, “you okay?” She nodded, “yeah, I’m okay. You?” Lip nodded, kissing her cheek softly. “It’s probably really silly but god I am so tired now” she whispered causing Lip to laugh. “No, it’s not, it’s pretty normal. I should get home anyway; let you get to bed” He smiled softly at her.
Nodding, y/n slipped herself off his lap, “Yeah, plus if Tony comes home to us in bed together, I think he’d kill you.” Lip laughed nervously, hopping off the bed and grabbing his jacket, holding it in front of his crotch in hopes he could hide the dark patch they’d both made. He leant across the bed, kissing her gently but with a depth that had her head spinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow princess” Lip smirked at her before heading out. Y/n sat on her bed wondering if she just imagined it all or if it was some crazy weed induced hallucination, however as her eyes flicked across the floor, she noticed Lip’s scarf on the floor and she went a grabbed it. With the scarf in hand, she curled up under her covers, bringing the scarf up to her nose and breathing in, smiling at the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer she knew it was real and found herself falling asleep to thought of seeing Lip again tomorrow.
pairing: yandere artist x erotic book writer!reader
description: At your first fan signing, you felt exposed enough—but when a reader dared to praise the man you wrote with too much longing in his voice, Eleazar reminded you exactly who that character was based on, and who your stories—and body—belong to.
warning/s: Yandere behavior, possessiveness, explicit sexual content, obsession, emotional manipulation, jealousy, degradation (verbal), rough sex, public surveillance (implied stalking), power imbalance, noncon/dubcon undertones.
note: i don't know when the next part will be posted, but i'll let you guys know. somehow. btw, whoever read this first was able to read the og draft with the og name. hahahahahha forgot to replace it before posting earlier. my bad. enjoy reading!
You told your publisher no the first three times.
You weren’t trying to be difficult, but the idea of being out there again—on display, in front of people whose faces you don’t know and whose eyes you can’t read—left something tight in your chest. You liked the quiet comfort of your work, the cocoon of anonymity that came with hiding behind stories. Signing books and smiling for photos in a public venue felt too much like exposure, like stripping without the safety of Lee’s rope.
But deadlines had come and gone, the pre-orders exceeded expectations, and your publisher, bless their persistent hearts, finally played the only card you couldn't ignore: contractual obligation.
So here you are.
A fanmeet. One city over. A sleek little bookstore with floor-to-ceiling windows, a table draped in velvet, and a line of readers curling out the door. The staff is kind. The readers are gentle. The girl with trembling hands and tears in her eyes says your writing got her through the worst year of her life. The college boy with a dog-eared copy quotes your own words back to you. It feels surreal to be seen like this—for something you created in solitude.
You should be happy. You should be proud. And you are. But still, under the polite smile and gracious thank-yous, you feel it.
A presence.
You don’t see him. Not yet. But it’s there. Like a shift in temperature, a heat against your spine that makes the hair on the back of your neck lift. You force yourself to stay calm, keep signing, keep nodding. Maybe it’s your nerves. Maybe it’s your paranoia.
But you know that weight. That gravity. You feel it every night before you fall asleep, curled into Lee’s chest. You feel it now, stronger than ever.
By the time the fan steps forward, you’ve already braced for it.
He’s young. Maybe mid-twenties. Glasses, nice smile, a little awkward in the way of people who read more than they speak. He’s not a threat—not at all. Just eager. His hands tremble as he holds out your book for you to sign.
“I… I’m sorry if I sound weird,” he says, voice high with nerves. “I just—your writing changed something in me. Especially the new one. The way you described… him. Your male lead. His hands, his mouth. It was so vivid. So real. Like I could feel every touch.”
You nod gently, offering the practiced, polite smile you’ve given to others. “Thank you. That means more than you know.”
He clears his throat, eyes darting between you and the edge of the table. “If I’m being honest, I… I wish he was real. That kind of love? That intensity? It’s rare. Obsessive, sure—but who wouldn’t want someone that devoted?”
You stiffen. Just slightly.
“Anyway,” he laughs, trying to brush off his own words. “Sorry. I just had to say it. You’re incredible.”
You thank him again. You sign. You don’t look up again until he’s gone. And when you do… Lee is standing near the entrance.
He isn’t in line. Isn’t smiling. Isn’t even trying to hide the storm in his expression. He’s watching you—no, watching everyone. No one else notices him. He’s good at that, at folding himself into shadows even when the light’s right on him. You know that look. It isn’t anger. Not yet. It’s the calm before it.
You spend the rest of the event on autopilot, your throat dry, fingers aching from the pen gripped too tight. The moment it’s over, the moment you’re in the car, Lee speaks.
“You liked that?”
You blink at him. “What?”
He turns to face you fully, eyes unreadable. “Hearing another man say he wanted to touch you the way I do. That he wants to be the man in your book.”
“He wasn’t being inappropriate, Lee. Just enthusiastic. That’s what fans do.”
“You wrote me, and he saw himself.”
“I can’t control how people interpret—”
“He wants you.”
You hesitate. “He admires the character.”
Lee leans in, voice low and too calm. “That character is me.”
You don’t argue. You won’t win. And truthfully, he's not wrong. Every word you wrote was pulled from your nights together. The tenderness. The fury. The pleasure laced with something darker. It was Lee—filtered just enough to fit fiction. But for Lee, fiction doesn’t mean not real.
He drives in silence, hands tight around the wheel, until you're home.
The studio is cold. Not from the air, but from the tension. You enter first. Lee follows without a word, locking the door behind him. You hear it—click—and something inside you stirs.
He doesn't touch you. Not right away. He circles slowly, gaze dragging across your body like he’s stripping you layer by layer with his mind. You stand still. Wait.
“You smiled at him,” he says finally, quiet but firm. “You laughed.”
“I smiled at everyone today.”
“You leaned in.”
“He was nervous. I was trying to make him comfortable.”
“He was imagining fucking you.”
You take a breath, trying to stay calm, but your pulse is already racing. “You’re reading too much into it. He didn’t say anything like that.”
“He didn’t have to.” Lee steps closer. “I saw it in his eyes. He wants to replace me. He wants to rewrite my role.”
His hands finally touch you, not with the familiar tenderness of homecoming, but with something rougher, more desperate. He grabs your wrist, not to hurt, but to anchor.
“You’re mine,” he says, dragging your hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart. “Every word you write, every scene, every sound—it's mine.”
You nod, unable to speak.
“Do you know what I felt, watching him look at you like that?”
You whisper, “Tell me.”
“I felt the edge,” he breathes, hand sliding to the back of your neck. “I felt it pulling me. Wanting to drag you into it with me so I could erase every trace of anyone else.”
Then he kisses you.
It’s not sweet. It’s not patient. It’s consuming.
He undresses you slowly but without ceremony, hands possessive, lips trailing over every inch of exposed skin like he’s reclaiming lost territory. Your bra slips from your shoulders. Your skirt falls. By the time he walks you back into the studio chair—his chair—you’re already shaking.
He sits first and pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. His hands grip your waist. He looks up at you, paint-speckled light catching the edge of his eyes.
“No ropes tonight,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you tied. I want you to stay because you know where you belong.”
You nod. “With you.”
His cock is hard beneath you, pressing against your bare folds as he lifts your hips and slides in—slow, deliberate, deep. You gasp, clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Say it again,” he growls, already thrusting up into you with sharp, punishing rhythm. “Say who you belong to.”
“You, Lee—only you.”
He grips your hair, pulling your face to his. “Louder.”
“I belong to you!”
His pace quickens, desperate and unforgiving. You’re already close, already unraveling. You feel him everywhere—inside you, around you, beneath your skin.
“You smiled at him,” Lee whispers against your ear. “Now smile for me.”
You do. You smile as he ruins you. As he reminds you. As he marks you from the inside out.
He doesn’t stop when you come the first time. Or the second. He keeps going until your voice is hoarse and your body limp. When he finally finishes, it’s with a broken groan, arms wrapped tight around you as he spills into you. He holds you there, panting, sweating, possessive even in afterglow.
No one else gets to have this. No one else gets you.
He pulls you close, kisses your forehead, and whispers, “Write this down.”
You nod, already dazed.
“Next time someone thinks they can step into my story,” he murmurs, voice like silk soaked in blood, “I’ll show them what kind of ending they earn.”
hello! love u! would you pretty please consider writing itachi violently non conning his younger sister after an argument when they're home alone but teen sasuke returned early from his mission with team 7? sasuke loves his big sis but he doesn't really help her, incredibly liking the sight of his sibs together.
*** NSFW ***
*** 18+ MINORS DNI! ***
*** TW. DARK CONTENT ***
⚠️WARNING ⚠️ this story contains noncon, foul language, incest, voyeurism, and other themes that may not be suitable for some audience. Viewer discretion is STRONGLY advised!
Itachi and his little sister Y/N had been at each other's throats all day long. Their parents were gone, Sasuke was off on an assignment with team 7 and every time Itachi and Y/N were alone, they always seemed to fight. "I'm so sick of you acting like you're better than everyone else in the family Itachi! You really look down on me and Sasuke!" She yelled at him as he turned to walk off towards his room in an effort to end the argument before I went too far. She watched him as he walked off, her arms folded, cheeks red in anger and frustration. Why he couldn't just... Be nice to her?! "You're just like Father..." She mumbled under her breath, but with his hearing and skill, of course itachi heard her. He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning his attention back towards his little sister at the opposite end of the hall. "What did you say Y/N..?" Itachi asked, his voice low and flat with a different kind of angered tone she had never before heard come from her older brother.
The color began to drain from Y/N's face as he swiftly began to walk towards her, and she had no time to attempt to block herself from any actions he may have took on her. He was far too fast, and she knew it. He grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around, and pinning her body to wall. All his weight was against her as she struggled helplessly to escape his grasp. "If you think I'm like father, then I will show you just how cruel Father really is!" He said viciously, his rage boiling over as her words echoed in her head. He spun her around, grabbing her by her hair and dragging her into his bedroom kicking and pleading for him to let her go. "Itachi stop! Let me go!" She screamed but to no avail. No one was around to hear her.
Itachi yanked Y/N up by her hair, and threw her on to his bed, wasting no time climbing on top of her. He pinned her arms down to the bed, and watched with a smirk as she kicked and flailed trying to get him off of her. "Itachi please!! Stop!" She cried out realizing that this was not a good situation to be in. She was in serious danger. Tears began to stream down her face, as all hope of her escaping his clutches left her. He was far too strong for her to over power, and all she could think to do was plead her case. "Itachi I'm sorry! Please, I didn't mean it!" She cried, and whimpered under him, powerless to stop his vicious assault. "Too late for apologies princess. You're going to take your medicine!" He growled as he gripped her throat in his hand, squeezing and watching her eyes widen in fear as she felt her airway closing in his grip. She gasped and choked as she struggled to break free of his grip, this only excited Itachi more.
While all this was going on in the Uchiha family household, Sasuke had returned from his mission earlier than expected, and was about open the front door and announce his arrival. However, as he entered, he stopped before calling out hearing strange sounds coming from upstairs, and what sounded like the voices of his elder siblings. Curious as to what could be going on, and getting an ominous feeling that something was definitely wrong, he slowly made his way up the stairs. He walked down the hallway, inching ever closer to Itachi's room- the origin of the sounds- and when he looked inside he was frozen in shock by what he saw. There was his older brother Itachi, pinning his big sister beneath him, fingers round her throat and her face turning a bright red color. "I-itachi? Y/N???" He whispered to himself, a strange fear creeping up this spine.
Itachi reached down between them, and fumbled with his pants as he removed his thick cock from his pants. Y/N wriggled harder as she saw her older brother's sizeable cock spring free from his pants and slap against her inner thigh. "You're going to take every last inch of my cock, and you're going to like it!" He threatened, as he held her still, and positioned himself against her open. "Are you- are you enjoying this??" Itachi said feeling how wet her pussy was in the moment. "You twisted little bitch..." He grunted as he pushed his cock deep inside her tight cunt. She cried out in pain as itachi stretched out her tight walls, feeling him rip her as he did. Sasuke watched in horror as Itachi raped their sister, watching his big sister's face contort in pain as he forced his cock inside her. It was awful... But he still couldn't look away, and as Itachi began to fuck into their sister, he felt a twinge of something else begin to rise up from within him.
Y/N took every inch of her big brother's cock, her body shivering in pain, and then in an unwilling pleasure as he continued his vicious assault. Itachi could feel her walls gripping around his cock, and knew she was about to cum against her will. "That's it. Don't fight it, just let this happen. Doesn't your big brother feel so good fucking you?" Itachi teased making her feel ashamed. With a gasp, and a small cry that sounded more akin to a cry of grief than pleasure, her walls gripped around his cock, and she came for him, shame filling her being as she did. "That's it, cum for me. Fuck little sis, I'm going to fill up that tight little pussy." Itachi growled as his thrusts became more erratic. With one final thrust, Itachi grabbed his little sister's hips and held her still as he shot his hot potent Uchiha cum deep inside her fertile womb.
From the hallway, Sasuke watched. Helpless, but achingly hard inside those shorts of his. He watched as his big sister was forced to cum all over Itachi's cock, and pumped full of his seed. Without warning, Sasuke's cock twitched, and he gasped steadying himself by grabbing the door frame as he came in his pants. The sight of his older brother viciously taking his big sis was far more than he could handle. Itachi caught his breath before giving his little sis a kiss on the forehead, and putting his cock away. "Maybe next time you'll learn to quit while you're ahead..." Itachi said cruelly as he reached for the towel on his bedroom floor. "Go clean yourself up princess..." He said before turning towards the cracked door. "You too Sasuke..."
A.N: spelling errors, and other such typos will be corrected when I am able. In the meantime, have fun and enjoy responsibly! 🥰
Imagine Camu creeping up behind you just after you finished a mission. It's late and the sky has gone dark, you're too busy staring at the stars to notice how he's looming over you, amethyst eyes carefully sweeping over every inch of your body. He's been wanting to do more with you for a while and now he finally has the perfect window of opportunity to do what he's always wanted with you.
It's too late to stop him by the time he shoves you against a partially broken wall, hands pinned above your head as his free hand roams your body. His hand quickly finding your sensitive areas and stroking/rubbing them as he whispers how good you're doing.
It's not long until your pants and underwear are torn away, his cock thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow, like you're not going to have to walk to the transport craft in a couple hours. Struggling only makes him fuck into you harder, any pleas for him to stop, or slow down falling on deaf ears.
He fills your pretty little hole with his cum again and again until it spills out of you, using you like his personal fucktoy until he can see the transport craft in the distance.
"Ah, there we go. My little Commandant looks much better this way, I think you're suited for this." Camu whispers in your ear as he coats your walls with his purple tinted cum for the last time, pulling out of you and catching some of it with his fingers so you can taste it.
"You took it so well just like I told you, and remember-"
"Not a single peep about this to anyone, got that?"
(Im brainrotting agane so lets get this outta the way)
Tw: nsfw themes/ implications 18+ !!
So the 4 are the popular kids for sure
However wacky they may be, or how god awful their reputation is— the people love em, and are very VERY downbad for ‘em
Price, as the captain of the rugby team, is the cocky type
Overconfident, knows how to sell himself, the typical rich kid that would hold parties after every game win
And they always win
Price is the Troy Bolton equivalent, with all the talents but none of the motivation to use ‘em or explore the arts
He is committed to the game, and the only time where you can find him dead serious and hyper focused
Though in relationships? He’s far from that
Body count? Don’t even try and think about it, its not like he keeps score either
But he does score them based on how good they are (he is BI and will fuck anyone)
The fact that he hasn’t fucked you would be quite rare
Protection king actually, because he will NOT take responsibility for what happens after the deed
But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t raw dog you if you wanted to :)
Ghost, is still as enigmatic as ever and the most brooding out of the four
But that doesn’t mean he won’t kick your ass
To be honest, he wouldn’t hold back at ALL (especially if you insulted his rock music or his fashion sense)
He does play in the same team as Price, and is actually his second in command
He’s super quick on his feet because he does boxing at the side
(How else would he expel all of his angsty teenage energy?)
That’s why he’s always sluggish and the type to sleep in class (but still get straight As ‘cause he’s just a natural smart ass like that)
Teachers are afraid of this man and is also scared of the backing that he has because of his parents and his association with Price and his own parents too (they fund the school board)
In terms of hooking up other people…
He doesn’t do it often but when he does-
Well, let’s just say that people go to him if they feel a little…experimental
Aftercare? The bare minimum ‘cause he knows its intense
Will he do it often and go out of his way to do it? No (but maybe he would for you)
Gaz, is the the “nice” guy out of the four
He’s the type to always get straight As, participate in all the projects, join community projects, be student council president—
Yes, he wants absolute control under his finger tips
People really don’t know if they’re being tugged on strings with him at the helm, doing every bit of his bidding without even him lifting a single finger
While he sits there, looking all pretty
He does play sports but is quite average
But you already know that he’s the one lifting his shirt for the nice lowkey, candid abs pic
Always a performer in the field, which sometimes pisses off Price and Ghost (they’re very competitive when they get into the zone) but really does decently enough that he gets scouted too
Although, he prefers that he handles more of the internal working of school
Slowly ensuring that the four of them have absolute control of the school— all for their amusement of course
His hook-up culture is a bit…skewed
A sadist in the sheets and a masochist in the closet
An absolute wild animal if you managed to hook up with him
But if he hooks up with any of the three other guys?
Well, let’s (also) just say that Ghost has to get his practice in somehow, right? Or when he’s frustrated and need to take it out in a…more sensual way
He is as willing as the day he joined them
Soap, is the wildest party animal out of the four
And because of that, he’s the go-to guy for supplies in alcohol and drugs
Even has connections in getting places for parties (like abandoned parks, houses, a lake side getaway- whatever you wanted he’ll get it)
But for a pretty penny, of course
He is the stash keeper in terms of money and all of the above
He’s also the hustler, working hand-in-hand with Ghost whenever they need to deal with someone
Unruly doesn’t quite match the energy he gives off everyday
Messing and pranking with the teachers aren’t even enough for him
Vandalizing is too common and just wreaking havoc is the name of his game
He does play on the team with the rest but often gets fouls or does foul play that he gets red carded out immediately anyways
Does he care for any type of attraction with hook-ups? Nope
He just fucks ‘em and leaves, responsibilities be damned
You chose to be with him anyways, right? Its not like forced you to the lone room upstairs or anything
Its not him who removed his clothes in front him— it was all your own will and he simply just jumped at the opportunity and your wide open arms
You, on the other hand, just transferred to this school
Unknowing of its inner workings
You find yourself at this school because of a troubled family life
With such a failure in their lives, they decide to dump you here by your lonesome
And now you have to figure out how to live in and outside of this school
Lemme know if you want more crumbs of this hehe <3
Domestic volence, public bj, kicking, physical abuse, Derek being a shit boyfriend, dubcon
Fall was always such a peaceful time, at least it used to be. You don't know how long you had been with Derek, but you knew it was long enough for you to see the seasons change. The hot summer air slowly turned into a cool autumn breeze. Leafy green leaves changed colors into hues of red and orange before detaching from their branches, drifting slowly to the ground to be raked into neat piles.
Derek was always more of the adventurous one. He was the one who'd take you out late into the night for some mischief, just tonight. All your friends said you could do better! Derek was an asshole, an abusive pompous asshole. You couldn't lie to your friends, in all honesty you sometimes thought the same as them, but you saw how sweet he could be, occasional snuggling, gifts, and not to mention he was always taking you out.
Derek carefully stepped over the barbed wire of the farm, not bothering to help you step over. He was such a romantic! “Derek,” you spoke in a whisper, “we shouldn't be here this late. What if we get caught?” He rolled your eyes at your paranoia, “You want a pumpkin, right?” He asked with a slightly irritated tone.
“Yeah but-”
“But what? I'm taking you out aren't I? I'm doing what you asked of me, be grateful I'm letting myself be seen with you!”
Seen with you only in the dead of night that is. You sighed and the two of you walked through the grass towards the large patch of pumpkins. With the flashlight from your phone, you began inspecting the pumpkins while Derek hovered over you.
“Oh! How about this one?” You asked, going to pick up a decently sized pumpkin only for Derek to step harshly on your hand. You let out a painful yelp as Derek laughed, “Careful now, wouldn't want to wake whatever geezer owns this farm!”
You tried to remove your hand from underneath his shoe, but he only dug his heel further into your hand, practically crushing it. Derek could only laugh as you struggled. He crouched down, whispering in your ears, “You're a damn moron to think I didn't see those texts with your friends,” he said.
Your eyes widened in fear as he continued, “You think I'm a dick, huh? You think you deserve me to be nice on our little ‘dates.’ Well lemme tell you something, little cunts like you don't deserve nice dates.” In a swift motion, he kicked your gut and laughed. You let out a pained cry as you laid on the ground and held your gut in pain.
“Please- please!” You said in a sob, “I didn't mean it…” you tried pleading. “No? But you seemed SoOoOoo insistent I'm a bad boyfriend!” Derek said with a laugh as he once more kicked you. This wasn't the first time Derek had done something like this. In fact just a couple days ago he left plenty of bruises on your thighs after you supposedly embarrassed him at a party he took you to.
Derek stepped on your thigh, making sure to try and step where he left bruises last time. He smiled as you winced in pain, securing the notion that he hit a bruise. He removed his foot, “On your knees,” he ruthlessly commanded.
“W-what? Here? In a-”
“What the fuck did I say? On your knees. Now. You're gonna make it up to me.”
You frowned and shifted to your knees, hating the pain of sitting on the bruises along your shin. Derek continued to smirk as he unzipped his pants, letting his cock free and gripping your scalp. “Open up, bitch,” he ordered and you reluctantly opened your mouth.
He used your hair to guide your mouth onto his cock, shuddering at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. His hips were slow at first, but they gradually picked up the pace until you were gagging and choking on his length. “Haha! C'mon! Better be quiet if you don't wanna get caught!” Derek cackled as he fucked your throat.
Tears welled up in your eyes, you had the urge to vomit with how he abused your gag reflex, but you knew better than to vomit all over his pants! Saliva dribbled down your chin and onto your shirt with each rude thrust. He moaned rather loudly while he fucked your throat, making sure to let you up for air now and then so he could slap you.
Derek's shoes pressed harshly against your crotch, making sure to grind his shoe into you while he used your mouth. You couldn't help but whine in pain. Your boyfriend was just so mean! But oh God this felt so good. It was so embarrassing getting your throat used like this on someone's property, having him press into your bruises and make you cry. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together in hope of some relief, but his shoe was stopping that.
You instead began humping his shoe. This sight caused him to laugh, “Awwww, are you getting off on my shoe like a stupid dog? Ya know what, that's fitting for you!” Derek exclaimed as you continued to hump and hump and hump.
The mixture of gags and moans was so enjoyable for Derek. His thrusts got sloppier as he got close, he could feel his cock ache as it was forced down your throat. Just as he was about to cum, he shoved your head all the way down to the base, your nose pressing against his pelvis. He moaned loudly as thick ropes went straight to your stomach.
The feeling was gross, but it felt so good that it made you cum after humping his shoe so much. As usual, you swallowed all that he gave you. If you spilled a single drop it would only lead to more consequences for poor ol' you. You never came home with a pumpkin to carve, but it didn't really matter.
Derek would just spend Halloween carving into you.
hm. currently thinking about genichiro on your wedding night. doesn't matter if you're even getting married to him in the first place. [mdni]
can't believe i'm writing even more for this guy. but to be honest i do replay his memory just to bully him into a corner and stab him with my sword over and over again when i'm frustrated. (there's a joke in there i'm not willing to make.) anyway [word count is: 1.9k] of me just being a degenerate.
warning: nsfw. noncon, sorry gang. body worship, genichiro being completely delusional. apologies if he's ooc, i like the image of him being down bad.
a/n: written without any gendered preference in mind and no pronouns are explicitly stated.
Let's say this, you're the true grandchild of Isshin, kept hidden away inside the castle for as long as you've been alive. Genichiro is at the most, a well known acquaintance or an estranged sibling at the very least. You don't really talk to each other, let alone spend time around the other without your beloved grandfather present.
The life you lived has been one filled with lavish gifts and presents from many people alike, suitors or those who simply believe you deserve it. Never have you had to lift a finger, not once have you ever thought of doing anything that could cause you harm. Your grandfather had taught you the basics of wielding a katana, yes, but it’s not something you find yourself using often — at best, it’s a party trick you get to show off — at worst, it’s the bare minimum to defend yourself. It’s one of the reasons why Genichiro would constantly find himself hovering a few steps behind you.
You didn’t deserve to learn something that might taint your skin — something that might leave your skin bruised, cuts that turn into scars, or worse, turn you into someone like him. You’ve seen him train, watched him as he pushed himself to his limits, but you never spared him another glance. Content with just watching him from afar like you normally do.
It’s upsetting — truly, you never noticed that those moments he would catch you staring, Genichiro would be pushing himself even more. Always showing off his best moves when he knew you were watching, always wanting to prove that he was the only one worthy of your attention.
Then why did you agree to marry this worthless.. Genichiro doesn’t even consider them a person — doesn’t even believe they should be in your presence without a proper reason to be there beside you. It has him seething silently, watching as you gush to the small group of servants or even your grandfather as he stands there.. watching. Like he always is as you continue to parade around the ring and gifts that leech gave you.
He could give you so much more. He would give you everything if you so much as asked. If you wanted him to carve out his heart just for it to be in your waiting palms — he’d do it, yet find a way to believe that it wouldn’t be enough.
The night before your wedding is when he deems the act long enough. Genichiro waits, patiently, for the right moment to set things in motion. He’ll play the savior, swoop in and rescue you like he’s always done — and finally make things right. He should have done this long ago, when you two were still trying to navigate through this world together, no matter how brief those moments were. He should have been the one to ask your grandfather for permission first, but it’s okay.
Genichiro will take care of everything, just to ensure you won’t have to lift a finger or worry about any of the preparations needed. Isshin might disagree, might even refuse, but how could he? When Genichiro has only done what is right for the future of Ashina? He is the reason why the clan remains at the top despite the years whittling away at the power and influence that slowly begun to wane.
“..what the hell did you do?!” You shout at him, your eyes catching the faint red on his clothing. You feel trapped, your one chance at escaping from the walls of this place, your only chance of reprieve, gone without giving you a say in the matter.
“Only what was necessary.” Genichiro states it so bluntly, like it's something as mundane as the weather. He's not giving an explanation. Only staring at you like you're the crazy one and he's somehow sane, it's a shock that makes your blood run cold once the pieces fall into place in your mind. You don’t even realize that you’re taking a step back until he’s taking one larger step forward to shove you against the futon in your bedroom.
There's a kick against his stomach, but Genichiro doesn't seem phased in the slightest, instead choosing to grasp your wrists in his hands, pinning them to the sides of your head. Red eyes are all you can see behind the curtains of his black hair. His chest heaves as he stares down at you.
You, in your kimono, the colors perfectly contrasting against your skin and the moonlight. Its fabric so soft and delicate, cold against his and your body. He's waited long enough for this, waited years for you to finally look at him — acknowledge him like you do to others. It's only fair, he thinks, that this is something he's entitled to.
“..please.” It's a whisper that leaves your lips and into the air. It's a plea that doesn't reach Genichiro's already set mind. Choosing to brush his lips over yours in such a delicate manner, it's as if you two were indeed lovers. He shifts a bit until he's able to hold both of your wrists in one of his own hands. His fingernails dig into your skin, an unsaid threat, leaving red marks that would surely be a reminder in the morning.
You can feel his other hand ghosting over your sides, pulling the fabric covering you away from your body. When the chill from the night truly hits your skin you struggle, violently. Twisting and turning, mumbling curses and pleas for him to stop and leave you alone. For him to bring back your fiance. For him to burn and never come back. It breaks his heart to see you so unhappy, but he hates to admit it — your eyes look absolutely beautiful filled with tears.
The glossy shine practically holds all of the stars in the night sky. Genichiro can't stop himself from thinking you're something he's unable to reach, a god from the stories your grandfather would tell him, a being that would never be his. But here you are.
Dressed in a beautiful kimono with him. He kisses you, completely engulfing your lips in his own as he forces his tongue down your throat. You can tell he's never done this before with how often his teeth clack against yours and how he has no sense of rhythm nor tact. He won't pull away, not until he's reminded that he needs to breathe.
You want to scream at him until your throat bleeds, yell until his ears do the same. When you try and thrash, try and fight against him, Genichiro remains unphased and almost insulted. He's so much bigger than you, so much stronger than you — it's downright unfair. He's a trained soldier, all muscle and hardened exterior while you.. you're soft, delicate, like a flower. Unlike him who knows how truly dangerous this world is. You're what this world calls weak, but Genichiro doesn't seem to mind being that protector. His hand ghosts over your chest, your hips, your thighs like a man afraid you'd break if he placed the slightest bit of pressure.
You can feel him breathing slowly, taking in every detail before he's using both of his hands to spread your thighs apart. You didn't think he'd take his time right? Genichiro is a man of precision and caution, but he is not patient. Not when he was you right where he’s been wanting you for the longest time.
He’ll spend a few moments pressing kisses against your skin, trace the contours of your body with his hands in such a reverent way, that you forget for just a second who he is — what he is capable of. Despite his desperation, Genichiro wishes for you to enjoy yourself, for you to let him take the reins and show you how good he can make you feel, how much he is willing to spend worshiping your body like it’s meant to be.
For a few blissful moments you might be able to forget everything that’s happened when his hair is brushing against the inside of your thighs with his big hands holding your legs apart. You might be able to actually ignore the building dread in your stomach as he licks, bites, and sucks on whatever he can get his mouth on. It’s apparent once again how inexperienced he is. There’s barely any skill, barely any finesse, but if there’s anything Genichiro is — he’s determined.
You’ve seen how quickly he learns too, how fast he’s able to adapt to different strategies and it leaks into his performance even now. Every gasp, every shiver, every time your legs threaten to snap shut — Genichiro notes it in his mind as he tries to find the correct way to blend his touch together, to bring you to that high faster. He’s treating you like a puzzle, a game even, as he finds that right combination that leaves you clinging onto his hair and tugging as you tip your head back just from him moving his tongue the right way.
He loves it. The way you feel, the way you taste on his lips when he’s certain he’s cleaned you up properly with his mouth. When he pulls away, it’s to show how excited he is. You can feel him grinding against your thigh, can feel the way his hands shake and even hear the way his breathing grows ragged and desperate.
It’s unceremonious — the way he intertwines your fingers together in mock intimacy as he finally nestles his way in between your legs to take his rightful place. Don’t worry, he’ll be gentle — he’ll take things slow because Genichiro only wants to savor this moment. He wants to remember all the details of him finally pressing into you — wants to engrave the expression you wear when he starts to move.
And he shamelessly drowns in you completely. It’s something he’s never felt before, something he never thought he’d actually be able to do because in his world all that mattered was ensuring his — no, your clan stays on top. He needs to show you how thankful he is for all the moments you two shared, even if you can’t recall them as clearly as he can. Genichiro barely makes any sound, content to listen to yours as he gasps or takes sharp inhales of breath each time he feels the way your warmth envelops him completely.
His body shakes and trembles, but he knows he won’t leave you unsatisfied. Not with the training he’s done to ensure he has the energy, the stamina to keep up with a multitude of opponents. Just promise him, whisper his name like it’s all you know and he’ll vow in his own way to keep you happy, to make sure that you never will have to worry about anything as long as he’s the one by your side.
When all is said and done and you're both left basking in each other’s, albeit reluctant embrace, do you finally have the energy to speak your feelings into the night air.
“I hate you.” It’s a truth you don’t even realize has left your lips.
“I’m aware.” Genichiro answers back, “Your.. discomfort is a mere sacrifice I'm willing to make.” He's tracing his hand over your side, caressing the skin — trying to commit every detail into his mind. “You do not have to love me.” The tone he uses is cold, distant, and it only makes the despair in your heart grow. “..but you will learn to.” A warm hand slides up to cup your face, gently brushing away the tears that began to fall from those eyes he never wants to see look away from him, “And when you do — you will question how you ever lived without me.”
