Warning:noncon!/dubcon,DC! (dark content),stepcest (stepbrother/stepsister), threesome, vaginal/anal/oral sex, double penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex, blowjob/throat fucking, face sitting, spit, possessiveness, hair pulling, marking (biting), spanking, dacryphilia, slightly breeding kink, slightly impact play, slightly manipulation/ mind control, mention of sex toys, MDNI!
Summary: Osamu is extremely stressed right now and what kind of friend would Suna be if he didn’t help his old best friend? Or rather, if you show your beloved brother how well you can take care of his friend and distract him pleasantly.
This fic is part of @xmyshya‘s collab “Three times the charm”. You can find the other fics here. So check out all the other baeutiful writer/artist too ♥
OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING GOD. NELA, I’M DEAD. THIS WAS… AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH, SO HOT, SO FUCKING HOT. DAMN, PLEASE, I JUST… KJSDGHJDFKGLKFJGHLDKJG
Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Summary:
Dean and Sam wake up in a box underground. One guess as to how they pass the time.
Tags/warning: Established Relationship, First Time in a Long Time, Post-Episode: s13e10 Wayward Sisters, The Bad Place, Unresolved Purgatory Issues, the practicalities of digesting a lizard, thigh fucking,Intercrural Sex
Wordcount: ~4.1k
Notes: Big thanks to @gracerene for the beta and encouragement. Filling a twofer of The Bad Place fucking for @brobonebang and my blank @spnkinkbingo square with thighfucking x
Summary: There’s one place Dean’s been before that was like this, and that he seemed to take to like a fish to water. Or told Sam that he had, and not…in kindness. Purgatory. The memory sits heavy in Sam’s stomach like digestive stones, grinding him up.
BLOOD SACRIFICE SEX MAGIC TYPE OF THING. E. SAM/DEAN, 8k, season 10. demon!dean, pwp, mutual dubious consent, blood play, wax play, minor sexual violence, ritual sex
“‘Sacrificial’? What are you sacrificing?”
Dean’s black eyes glittered in the fluorescent lights. Sam’s head was pounding from blood loss, his wrist ached where the knife went in and and he was freezing, wearing just his robe in the dungeon. He sighed.
Title: Polyester Sunrise Author:@gracerene Fandom:Supernatural Pairing(s):Dean/Sam Rating:Explicit Word Count:~2,100 Content/Warnings: Season 4; Episode 13: After School Special, Sibling Incest, Past Relationship, Pining, Angst, Sexual Fantasy, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Desk Sex, Intercrurual Sex, Missing Scene, POV Sam Summary: They haven’t had sex since Dean got back from hell, but Sam still remembers. Author’s Note: My first entry for Sunday Morning Porn Club—I hope y'all enjoy!
This was also inspired by the prompt on a desk in an office for the @brobonebang challenge, and by the Office Sex square for my 2022 @spnkinkbingo card. It takes place during episode 13 of Season 4: After School Special.
Like Groundhog Dick All Over Again Sam/Dean 11,885 words, rated E
For the @brobonebang prompt, ‘At the Mystery Spot’
It wasn’t Dean’s fault that he didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know, couldn’t know, about the crawling feeling in Sam’s stomach, the dawning realization that something was wrong. Something or someone was fucking with them and Sam didn’t know what. Worse, it was fucking with their fucking. That had to be a bad sign.
Dean was laughing boisterously there, pointing across the table at his brother with the tip of a pool cue. This night, all the regulars had already had their pockets wrung dry betting against him, and Sam was the only one stupid enough to keep playing. They moved around the table, treating the game of pool like a round of foreplay.
REQUEST:@deerangerHow about Cordell Walker and some powerplay of some sort?? Hell, maybe the handsome ranger runs into a certain supe called Soldier Boy and gets more than he bargained for? Cue smutty smut?? Eh? Ehh??? It can be dark (please?), or plain pwp, or angsty or fluffy or whatever floats your boat… Honestly, I just wanna read about Cordi getting railed.
Characters: Cordell Walker x Soldier Boy
Warnings:NONCON,Dark!Fic, Angst, Violence, Gun Violence, Blood, Multiple Injuries, Soldier Boy is a Bad. Guy., Use of Restraints, Dirty Talk/Language, Smut (GRAPHIC NONCON, Unprotected Sex, Blood, Anal Creampie, Forced Orgasm), Shaming/Degradation
WC: 1541
A/N: It’s a work of fiction. Don’t judge me, I do pretty well with that on my own, thanks. : ) Anywho, you wanted dark…so I give you dark! HEED THE WARNINGS!
Okay oh my god that was dark… Just like the show!! That was very well written, Cordell being desperate as his pain turn into pleasure, betraying him… and how Soldier Boy was outraged Walker didn’t know who he was… well now, Walker certainly does know who he is!!
Summary: Daniil is made to earn his respawn by offering his body to the theatre.
Warnings: Noncon, character death, unreality
Author’s Notes: Originally written for the prompt “Make Daniil earn his respawn by offering himself to all those working hard behind the scenes. Can involve any combination of the above parings as long as Daniil gets WRECKED by more than one person. Bonus points for: humiliation, Daniil being taunted about how much he’s enjoying himself, and just generally getting weird and meta (as stuff in the theatre tends to get).” over on the Pathologic kink meme.
Daniil knew what was coming before a single spidery hand touched him. He’d had this nightmare before, spent years studying it in the hope of fleeing it, the hope of it being a warning rather than a vision.
He’d watched this play before. Now it was his turn to play the part.
“Welcome, one and all, to the Bachelor’s demise!” cried Mark with a flourish. “The foolish fop floundered and failed.”
“The game was rigged,” Daniil said, wincing when his jaw was seized by skinny gloved fingers, holding him still.
“And yet you want to play another round, don’t you? And your coin is worthless here. What have you left to offer, Bachelor?”
Daniil hated this line. “Myself.”
Mark grinned as more hands took hold of Daniil’s arms, legs, wrists. “So be it.”
The tragedians took their time opening up Daniil’s layers, setting the scene, as they always did. It wasn’t their job to strip him naked, just to expose him, leaving his chest bare in the frame of his open shirt, his underwear around his ankles.
It was about humiliation for them, not sex. They weren’t allowed to enjoy it any more than he was.
Death was the only comedian allowed on stage, and Daniil wished he’d eaten enough to vomit on its feet when it stepped out of the shadows.
“How many of you are there today?” Daniil asked, remembering the last play he had watched, the actor’s exhaustion by the time the last executor had pulled out.
“As many as it takes.”
This was the part that would hurt.
Daniil took to his hands and knees, facing the empty theatre as his coat was lifted and cold fingers spread his ass wide, before the head of an executor’s cock pushed insistently into him, dry, burning.
Daniil retched, and his body accepted the rest of that cock easily enough that for a fleeting, sickening moment he felt grateful. He just had to ride this out, now. He just had to survive.
Another executor stepped out in front of him, knelt and slapped his face with its cock, and laughed when Daniil choked it down.
It tasted of nothing, and Daniil felt another rancid wave of thankfulness for that small mercy.
He’d taken seven of the identical tasteless things by the time his legs gave out, the executors leaving his mouth alone in favour of ploughing him into the stage floor. Ten when he gave in and sobbed. Thirteen when he was finally lifted up to stand, come dripping down his thighs as the framework of his open clothing was pulled away from his body.
Death’s fingers wrapped around his cock and squeezed tight.
“Do you think you’ve earned another chance?”
A trick question, it had to be, but defying death had earned him this punishment. Daniil nodded.
“Are you a good boy?”
Daniil cringed as he nodded again, cock twitching in Death’s hand, so close to coming it hurt.
“We’ll finish this next time,” Death whispered.
The hand and its owner disappeared, the lights came on, and the theatre door opened.
