#Yandere OC

[devotion-disorder]

Can I ask who has teh biggest chest among all your ocs. I want to sleep on them and test how soft they are.

this is honestly kind of a hard question because im so indecisive and also inconsistent LOL......but probably its mishka....

[bunnygirllover45]

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ first meeting.

[yanderenightmare-reblogs]

mobster, my love. i also need to get on this.

Yandere Mobster

Chicago - 1931 The Height of Prohibition The mafia is earning top dollar smuggling alcohol into the country. And one mobster has his eye on you.

Yandere! Mobster who's a made man, who drives a nice car even after the stock market crash forced most people to sell theirs.

Yandere! Mobster who wears a tailored suit and fedora, his black hair swept back. Who everyone in the neighbourhood says is a good guy, a decent man, even if he does work for the don.

Yandere! Mobster who pulls up next to you when you're walking home from work. It's late and clouds are scudding across the across the moon.

Yandere! Mobster who leans out his window and offers to drive you home. Who says these streets ain't safe for a pretty girl like you.

Yandere! Mobster who's known you since you were children. Two kids from immigrant families, playing together in the tiny bits of open space your apartments could offer.

Yandere! Mobster who keeps looking at you and marvelling at how grown up you both are. Where did that scruffy little girl go? And when did you get so pretty?

Yandere! Mobster who spends the whole drive chatting about old times. Who makes you laugh at his stories about running from the landlady and stashing his school books behind the canteen.

Yandere! Mobster who leans over you and pulls the door closed when you move to get out. Who looks you dead in the eye when he asks if you're having trouble with your rent.

The mob is a big part of the community afterall, and he knows just about everything.

You drop your eyes, embarrassed. Your brothers have their own families to care for, you say. Things are hard but if you pick up a few more shifts at the factory, you might manage it.

Yandere! Mobster who sighs and digs in his suit pocket. Who pulls out a stack of cash and counts it right in front you.

Yandere! Mobster who offers you enough for two months of rent. A small fortune to someone from your part of town.

You shake your head, horrified. You can't afford the interest, you tell him.

Yandere! Mobster who scoffs and asks if you really think he's offering a loan when you've known each other for years? It's a gift, to keep your mama out of the cold.

Yandere! Mobster who smiles at the hesitant way you accept the money. You're too proud to ever ask for help and he knows it. Just like when you were kids.

Yandere! Mobster who gets out and opens the car door for you like a gentleman, even if he knows the whole apartment will talk about it.

Yandere! Mobster who grins that charming, good guy smile even though he has a gun holstered under his jacket and a shovel in the trunk. Who says he'll consider things even if you cook him dinner some time.

Yandere! Mobster who visits your ma while you're at work. Who tells her he's interested in you and wants her blessing. And your ma is all too happy to give it. He's such a good boy, she says, and she knows he's always had a soft spot for you.

Yandere! Mobster who insists on driving you home after work everyday. Even when you blush and complain that he's going out of his way.

Yandere! Mobster who gratefully accepts the gifts you offer him. Fresh baked bread, jars of your mama's famous marinara sauce, homecooked meals... Who eats so much better when you take care of him.

Yandere! Mobster who eventually runs out of luck and straight into trouble. What was supposed to be a routine whiskey delivery turns out to be a sting operation.

Yandere! Mobster who sees his partner get a hole blasted right through him and almost die. Who fires at the cops until his tommy gun is red hot and smoking. Who ends up with so much blood on his hands he ain't sure it will ever wash off.

Yandere! Mobster who finds himself at your door afterwards, his coat drenched by the rain.

Yandere! Mobster who doesn't resist when you pull him inside and strip away his jacket and shirt. There's blood on your hands after you hang up his coat, and you pretend not to notice it.

Yandere! Mobster who can see your curiosity fighting against your sense. In the end, you don't ask him a single question about it.

Yandere! Mobster who sinks gratefully into the bath you draw for him. And who falls asleep the second his head hits your pillow.

Yandere! Mobster who's gone by morning. His bloodstained coat gone with him.

Yandere! Mobster who asks around about you and finds out you've got a whole score of fellas vying for your hand.

Yandere! Mobster who let's it be known that he's interested in you and watches with satisfaction as all your potential suitors drop away.

Except for one. He just spits and says you're a grown woman and can choose your own man.

Yandere! Mobster and his buddies pick the guy up after a late shift. Tie his hands behind his back and gag him before they toss him in the trunk.

Yandere! Mobster who beats the shit out of him. Who breaks his nose with a knuckle duster and his ribs with a crowbar. Who grabs his hair with bloody fingers and hisses that you're off limits.

Yandere! Mobster whose buddies lounge against the warehouse wall and smoke, never bothering to question what a simple dock worker did to deserve such a brutal beating.

Yandere! Mobster who sniffs your hair when you hug him. He's like a dog - always making sure other men haven't left their scent on you.

Yandere! Mobster who let's his hands wander when he takes you out dancing. Who kisses you goodnight and let's his lips brush your neck before he pulls away.

Yandere! Mobster who goes home and jerks off to you, his teeth bared and head bent forward. Who snarls at you to take it, take it like a good girl.

Yandere! Mobster who tells his don about you - how pretty you are, how clever, how discreet. The man leans back in his chair and pulls on his cigar.

She'll never make a liar of you. You should marry her just for that.

Yandere! Mobster who shows up at your door a week later, an engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket.

Be my girl. And I promise I'll take care of you.

You think about the night he came to you covered in blood and not speaking a word. You think about your friend from the docks and the way he dissappeared. You think about the way people look away when you're with him in public.

You say yes, as though you have a choice.

[ghoularaki]

tw: fucking machines, yandere, noncon/dubcon, mindbreak, anal, somno, faceless yandere. MDNI.

waking up in a room never in before completely naked didn't scare you as much as you thought it would.

coming to, you were strapped to a leather bench, your ass almost hanging off the end. your ankles were bound to each leg, properly spreading you. wrists tied the same way with no give. laying chest down, your tits were squished against the cold, sleek material. around your waist, a leather strap had you completely immobilized.

you tried to call out but a gag had been shoved into your mouth prior. the room was completely silent and from your limited view, you were alone. lights dimmed down, nothing gave away where you were or why.

under your hips was a thin pillow the same material as the bench, propping them up. squirming around made you realized a tiny vibrator had been strapped to your clit.

"I wouldn't move around too much," A deep, rich voice called from somewhere you couldn't see.

Audible steps ricocheted of the tiled floor. Warm fingers brushed against the skin of your bum. You flinched and whimpered in response.

A bottle uncapping echoed behind you and cold liquid dripped down and hit the cleft of your ass. Your whimpers and wriggling only got more intense.

Those same fingers dipped down and pressed against the ring of muscles of your ass. Swirling the lube around to completely coat you, two fingers breached inside with surprising ease. You don't ever remind your ass ever being this loose and ready as his fingers slipped inside to the furthest knuckle.

He must of prepped you while you were knocked out. you could only assume as you have no clue how you got here. One moment you were walking to your car after a long shift and then woke up here.

Hooking his fingers inside, you groaned as he lifted your hips up higher.

"As I said, I wouldn't move around too much, and keep those hips up unless you want your ass properly broken into."

His words scared you. Your eyebrows tented as you attempted to look over your shoulder to see what he meant. You couldn't move an inch. Satisfied with his warning, his long appendages left you with a squelch.

The sound of something heavy being dragged closer filled the space he was before. You then felt something bulbous tap against your cunt. From this angle, whatever it was was a little bit too high for your hole. Curling your hips up more, the head slipped to right outside your pussy. You were have to keep your hips curved up and presented.

"That's a girl good, you're getting it now," The voice beamed. "Let's get this started."

The vibrator buzzed to life, unrelentingly rubbing your clit. You cried out at the immediate high setting. It borderlined between tickling and hurting. Thrashing, you begged, "Too much, too much," through your gag, but it was extremely muffled.

"Too much?"

You rapidly nodded, tears already blurring your vision. Sagging your head against the bench in relief, he turned down the settings two notches. The vibrations more pleasurable and not as intense.

Whining, your hips wiggled at the sensations. As you moved, you remembered what was put behind you. He must have too.

A loud, mechanical whirling of machine being turned on buzzed in your eardrums. Slowly what was attached to said machine sunk its way into your pussy.

The head was fat and round, on the edge of too big. It popped inside of you with some resistance causing you to gasp. The machine had no regard as it forced itself further in, stretching you to the point you were sure you were going to be torn in two. It stopped at what you thought was to the hilt. The dildo pulled away so only head sat inside. Thrusting back in with such force the air left you, it pushed more in than before.

You winced when the head hit your cervix, but it still had more to give. Crying out, the machine lunged until you felt a pair of silicone balls clap against the vibrator. The still buzzing bullet sat snug against your clit as the dildo was shoved as far as it could go and sat there.

Filled to the brim as your poor clit was continuously abused, your mind blanked, unable to think. You moaned as the cock pulled back half way and then slowly thrust back. As if sensing you were prepped enough, the machine was kicked up several notches. The slow prodding turned to rapid pounding, fuck you fast and hard.

The cock was so large there was no way for it not to hit the spot inside you repeatedly in quick succession. Your toes curled when the vibrator sped up. In an embarrassing amount of time you were forced of the edge. Your whorish moans were muffled by the gag.

Though the machine did not stop. Even past your orgasm, it kept fucking into you at the same pace. Nothing slowed down no matter how much you begged into the ball gag shoved in your mouth. Sloppy, wet sounds filled the room from your overused cunny.

How you wanted to rest your aching hips but you kept them perched high in fear of the cock ramming deep in your sloppy cunt would breach your ass. You don't think you could handle it. Your pussy barely could as is.

Tumbling over the edge once more, your hips wiggled and thrashed so much the pillow under you started to shift. Fear gripped you as it slipped further away causing your hips to sink. Tilting your hips forward in an attempt to keep the pillow up, only caused the silicone to punch your cervix at uncomfortable angle. Squirming away from the pain, the pillow fell from under you.

In desperation, you lifted your hips as much as you could, but the vibrator kicking up against your clit had you slump down. The cock bent, your pussy clinging onto it.

The thrusts slowed down once more. It leisurely drew out of your clenching walls until the head departed with a pop! Your cunt quickly missed being filled and you whined at being empty.

No longer propped up, the head pushed into your other hole. As if struck by lightning you bolted up to keep it away from your ass, but it was too late. Wiggling into your ring of muscles, the head snapped into your ill prepped hole. You screamed as it forced further inside until it was half way.

Your eyes rolled back as you couldn't handle the juxtaposition of the pain of being stretched and the pleasure of bullet against your clit.

"Aww you poor thing," The voice cooed, "I did warn you. Since you were doing so well, I will be lenient."

And by lenient he meant pouring more cool lube into your burning hole. Honestly, it did help. It slid inside you a lot more easily and didn't hiccup and drag against your dry walls.

Just as you got used to the lazy thrusts, the tempo was upped once more. You screeched as it punched deep your ass, surely breaking something deep in you. If you weren't broken in before, you surely were now.

Unable to do nothing more than take it, all the tension is you lulled out. You accepted as you tumbled into coming again. You clamped around the cock as your pussy fluttered at the emptiness.

Time became nonexistent as you were fucked into coming again and again until the edges around your vision blurred. Sucking on the gag, you could only meekly whine when you came for the umpteenth time.

Closing your eyes, you hung loose as the thrusts slowed back down to a slow pace as the buzzing of the vibe slugglishly tickled your clit until it was barely there.

Wetness coated your thighs and the bench under you. You were laid in a puddle of your shame. Nothing stopped as the voice approached.

"Rest, darling, you need it. I want to see if I can hear those pretty sounds while you sleep."

[rxmye]

" 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 "

— " 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑 " , A collection of yandere oc's, who're from the same world !! They're all apart of the same friend group . .

return to previous | requesting rules | advent . .

𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈 , Insomniac yandere . . Nsfw!Character information | Introduction . .

♡. nsfw/submissive!yandere [ gn reader ] the goodiest boy <3

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 , jock yandere . . Nsfw!Character Information | Introduction . .

♡. nsfw/submissive!yandere [gn reader] Lucas gets a little carried away in the locker rooms . . .

♡. suggestive [gn reader] all things hickies !!

𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 , bully victim yandere . . Nsfw!Character Information | Introduction . .

♡. nsfw/submissive!yandere [gn reader] reader carves their name into his skin . . .

♡. nsfw/submissive!yandere [gn reader] overstimulating him <3

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[fangdokja]

🔞When he says you're his treasure, he means it—he’ll spill blood, even yours, to keep it.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped aboard a ruthless Spanish pirate's ship, your defiance ignites his sadistic obsession, turning every moment into a battle of submission and survival. He’s your captor, your tormentor, and dangerously close to becoming the only one who truly owns you.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Spanish Pirate Captain x Reader

♡ Novelette. #1 - El Capitán's Tesoro

♡ Word Count. 8,115

♡ TW. non-con, rape, blood play, gun play, degradation, humiliation, forced orgasms, sadism, BDSM, bondage, groping, overstimulation, gagging, forced oral, psychological torment, fingering, public nudity, public humiliation, objectification, forced handjob, mature language, fingering, choking / breath play, biting, slut shaming, bodily injury, physical assault and violence

You find yourself bound to the mast of a pirate ship, the salty sea breeze caressing your bruised and trembling form as you struggle futilely against the rough ropes that dig into your wrists.

His dark eyes, filled with a possessive hunger that sends a shiver down your spine, bore into yours as he approaches you with a swagger that screams of power and confidence. "Mi querida," he purrs in a thick Spanish accent, his calloused hand caressing your cheek, "you're mine now, aren't you?"

You spit defiance at his booted feet, the taste of his earlier punishment still bitter in your mouth.

The crew's leers and sneers are a stark reminder of your new reality. The pirate, a man whose very presence seems to command the sea itself, chuckles darkly. "Ah, so the little bird has fight left in her. That will make this all the more… entertaining."

His grip tightens, a silent promise of the horrors to come. "Now, let's see how much you're worth," he murmurs, a sadistic glint in his gaze as he lifts your chin to expose your neck to his hungry mouth.

The world around you blurs as his teeth graze your skin, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there is no escape from the dark, twisted desires of this scoundrel pirate with a penchant for pain and a thirst for your submission.

The pirate's rough fingers trace the line of your jaw, his hot breath fanning against your ear as he whispers, "You will learn to beg for mercy, to crave the very touch that brings you torment."

His words, spoken with a disturbing affection, make your stomach churn.

You've heard tales of men like him, those who find pleasure in the suffering of others, and now you're face-to-face with one. You clench your teeth and glare at him, your eyes filled with the fire of a thousand suns.

He smirks, amused by your spirit, and steps away, leaving you to the merciless gaze of his crew. The sea stretches out endlessly, a cruel and indifferent witness to your plight.

He barks an order to his men, and the ship's deck comes alive with activity. Rough hands grab at your bound body, stripping you of your stolen armor and clothing, leaving you exposed to the lewd stares and catcalls.

The pirate watches with a smoldering intensity, his eyes never leaving yours.

Each piece of clothing that falls away feels like a piece of your dignity being torn from you, but you refuse to let them see you break. Instead, you glare coldly in the face of the nearest pirate, the act earning you a vicious slap that sends a burst of stars across your vision.

The pirate captain laughs, his deep chuckles resonating through the air as he says, "Ah, she's a feisty one. I like it."

The crew drags you before him, your body trembling with a mix of fear and rage. He circles you like a shark, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh. His hand snakes out, caressing your bare shoulder before sliding down to your chest, his thumb flicking your nipple.

You bite back a scream, your body betraying you by responding despite your desire to remain stoic. He leans in, his breath hot and moist against your skin, "You will call me 'Capitán'," he whispers, "and you will learn to obey, or suffer the consequences."

His hand trails lower, down your torso, and you feel his fingertips dance dangerously close to your most intimate places.

"No," you snarl through clenched teeth, your body a live wire of defiance.

He smirks, the gesture sending a chill down your spine. "We'll see about that." He steps back, his eyes never leaving yours as he gestures to his crew.

Two burly pirates step forward, each grabbing an ankle and wrenching your legs apart. The ropes bite into your skin as you're spread wide, your vulnerability on full display. "Take her below deck," he orders, his eyes gleaming with excitement, "and make sure she's… prepared for me."

The pirates hoist you up, their grip painfully tight as they carry you to the bowels of the ship.

As you're hauled away, you catch one last glimpse of the pirate captain, his eyes darkening with anticipation, tongue flicking put to lick his lips hungrily. He's not a man to be trifled with, that much is clear.

In the cramped, dimly lit quarters below, the pirates throw you onto a filthy cot, the stench of unwashed men and stale ale assaulting your senses. They tie your ankles to the wooden frame, stretching you out until you're taut and exposed.

You struggle, but your efforts are met with cruel laughter and painful slaps that bruise your skin.

One of them leers down at you, a gap-toothed grin splitting his face. "The Capitán will have you begging for his cock," he sneers, his voice thick with lust.

You grit your teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cower.

Your eyes dart around the room, searching for any means of escape or a weapon to defend yourself with, but all you find is a stale, dank mattress and a few discarded articles of clothing.

The pirates don't seem to care about your resistance, seeing it only as a challenge to be met with increased force.

They leave you there, alone with your thoughts and fears, the muffled sounds of the ship's activities above serving as a grim reminder of your new reality.

Minutes feel like hours as you lay there, the wood beneath you digging into your back with each roll of the ship. Your breaths come in short, sharp gasps, your heart hammering against your ribs like a caged bird desperate to flee.

The door creaks open, and you tense, expecting the pirate captain to make good on his threat.

Instead, a familiar young cabin boy, about your age, tentatively steps inside. His eyes widen as he takes in your naked, bound form, and he stammers an apology before setting a tray of food and water beside you.

"D-don't worry, miss," he whispers, his voice barely audible, "I'll come back to… to help you later." He quickly retreats, leaving you with a flicker of hope that is almost immediately extinguished by the heavy thud of the door closing behind him.

The food is barely palatable, but you force yourself to eat and drink, knowing you'll need your strength. Your thoughts race, trying to piece together a plan of escape or at least a way to resist the inevitable. The creaking of the ship's timbers and the distant laughter of the pirates above serve as a grim soundtrack to your growing despair.

Suddenly, the door swings open again, and the pirate captain strides in, his boots thudding against the floorboards with a confidence that sends a cold shiver through your body.

He's shed his outer layers, revealing a chest covered in dark, swirling tattoos that ripple with each step he takes towards you. "Ah, mi querida," he says, his voice a dark caress, "I see you've had some time to think about your new life."

You spit at him again, glaring coldly, the gesture one of pure spite and defiance. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, his smirk never faltering. "Such spirit," he murmurs, leaning down to trace your collarbone with a finger, "it's a shame it will be broken."

He reaches for the ropes holding your wrists, loosening them slightly before sliding his hand down to cup your breast. You flinch, your body arching away from his touch despite your best efforts to remain stoic.

"Don't touch me," you growl, your voice hoarse with rage. His grip tightens, his thumb brushing over your nipple, watching with sick satisfaction as it pebbles against his calloused skin. "You will learn," he says, his voice a dark promise, "to crave my touch."

He stands, his eyes never leaving yours as he strips off his shirt, revealing a body that is a testament to years of hard labor and ruthless living. His muscles are like chiseled marble, each flex and movement a silent threat of the power he holds over you.

The pirate captain, or 'Capitán' as you're now forced to think of him, moves closer, the scent of him – a mix of salt, sweat, and something darkly alluring – fills your nostrils.

You can't help but feel a flicker of fearful arousal, a treacherous response to his dominance that only fuels your hatred for him. He leans in, his lips hovering over yours, the stubble of his beard scraping against your skin.

"Call me 'mi amo'," he murmurs, the words a command and a promise of possession, "and beg for my cock."

He kisses you then, hard and brutal, forcing his tongue past your clenched teeth. You bite down, tasting the metallic tang of his blood, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, his grip on your breast tightens, his other hand tangling in your hair to hold you in place as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dueling with yours.

You struggle against the ropes, trying to push him away, but your body's response betrays you. Despite the horror of the situation, a part of you is drawn to the fire in his touch, the raw power in his embrace. He breaks the kiss, his eyes burning with a hunger that makes you feel both terrified and strangely alive. He smirks, knowing he's getting to you, and says, "You're going to be a delight to break."

He steps back, giving you a moment to breathe, to gather your thoughts and your dwindling resolve. He paces the room, his eyes never leaving you as he speaks, "You see, my sweet enemy, you are now my property. You will serve me, pleasure me, and do as I say, or you will feel the wrath of the sea in ways you can't even imagine." He pauses, stroking the leather belt at his waist.

"But first, let us get acquainted." He moves closer, his hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the harshness of his words.

You try to turn your head away, but he grips your chin firmly, forcing you to look at him. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes raking over your exposed body with a hunger that makes your stomach clench.

"And so very… delicate." His thumb presses against your bottom lip, pushing it down to expose your teeth. "But I suspect there is a feral creature beneath this pretty exterior, just waiting to be unleashed."

The pirate captain's hand trails down your body, his calloused fingertips leaving a trail of fire across your skin. You fight the urge to whimper, instead focusing on the rage burning in your chest. He reaches your bound wrists and loosens the ropes a bit more, his eyes never leaving yours. "Let's see if you can be a good girl for me," he says, his voice a seductive purr that makes you want to scream.

He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his waist, guiding your trembling fingers to the fastening of his breeches. "Undo these for me."

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes flashing with defiance. But the weight of his gaze is too much, and you know that resisting now would only bring more pain. You fumble with the fastening, your heart racing as the material falls away, revealing the heavy outline of his cock beneath his breeches. His smirk widens as he watches you, the anticipation in his eyes a stark contrast to the fear in yours.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with dark amusement. He takes your hand in his, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. "Now, stroke me."

His grip is firm, almost painful, as he forces you to explore him. You feel his length, his heat, his power, and your stomach turns. But you do as he says, your hand moving with a jerky obedience that feels like a betrayal to every fiber of your being.

His eyes never leave yours as he watches your hand move over his cock, his expression a mix of pleasure and sadistic enjoyment. The fabric of his breeches is rough against your palm, the evidence of his arousal growing more and more pronounced. You bite your lip, trying not to let the tears fall as you perform this degrading act. The cabin seems to shrink around you, the weight of his gaze and his grip on your wrist crushing you beneath their intensity.

"Faster," he commands, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver of revulsion down your spine. You try to ignore the way your own body responds, the traitorous wetness between your legs that you know he can feel.

"Show me how much you want this." You know it's a lie, but the need to survive forces your hand to obey. The strokes become quicker, your breaths shallower, as he watches with a predatory gaze that seems to see right through your soul.

But, the Capitán's patience wanes, and with a growl of frustration, he yanks you down from the cot, forcing your knees to hit the wooden planks of the cabin floor with a jarring thud.

"Too slow and tame," he snaps, the gentle facade of his earlier seduction gone, replaced by the cold, hard edge of his dominance.

His hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until you're staring up at him with a mix of fear and anger. He reaches down, freeing his thick, swollen cock from his breeches, the tip glistening with precum. "Take it," he orders, pushing it against your parted lips.

The pirate captain's eyes narrow with irritation as you struggle to turn your head away from his advancing cock. His grip on your hair tightens, yanking your head back even further, and you feel his shaft graze your cheek, sticky with precum.

He grunts in frustration and leans over, using the weight of his body to keep you in place. One of his hands wraps around the base of his cock, aiming the tip at your mouth again, while the other grips your chin to force your mouth open. You fight against him, your teeth clenched and your body trembling, but his strength is too much.

With a snarl, he thrusts his cock into your mouth, pushing past your teeth and down your throat.

You gag, your eyes watering and your throat constricting around his intrusion, but he doesn't relent. "You will learn to take me, all of me," he grunts, his voice thick with lust as he starts to fuck your mouth.

You feel his cock hit the back of your throat, the feeling of choking panic rising as you struggle to breathe around the thick, pulsing shaft. Your hands come up instinctively, trying to push him away, but he's too strong.

His hand leaves your chin, instead gripping the back of your head to hold you in place as he starts to fuck your face with brutal, punishing strokes. You can feel the veins in his cock throbbing against your tongue, and the taste of his salt fills your mouth.

You try to resist, to keep from gagging, but it's no use. His grip is like iron, and your body is his to use as he sees fit.

"Swallow," he commands, his voice harsh and unforgiving.

You do as he says, trying to keep the bile from rising as he continues to pump into your mouth. The sounds of his pleasure, the wet, obscene noises of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, echo in the small cabin, mixing with your muffled cries of protest.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his praise a mockery as he continues to use your mouth. You feel the tension in his body, the way his cock swells even more against your tongue.

He's going to come, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Your eyes water, your throat burns, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. His grip tightens, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he nears his climax.

"Look at me," he growls, and you force your eyes to meet his, the defiance in yours unwavering despite the fear and humiliation you feel. His eyes are wild, his pupils blown with desire as he watches you, his expression one of triumph.

As he reaches his peak, he pulls out abruptly, and you gasp for air, your mouth and throat aching. He grunts, and you feel the hot spurt of his cum across your face and neck, the sticky fluid mixing with your saliva and tears.

"Swallow," he commands again, and you do, the taste of him bitter on your tongue.

He releases you, his cock still hard and slick with your saliva and his seed. You fall back onto the floor, your body trembling with the aftermath of his assault.

But, it isn’t over.

The pirate captain's grin widens as he watches your reaction to the grisly 'gift'. He knew about the cabin boy's attempt to help you, and he's made an example of what happens to those who dare to defy him.

────────────

The severed head strikes your face with a sickening thud, the weight of it heavier than you'd ever imagined. Sticky, warm blood splatters across your skin, soaking into your hair and dripping in thick, viscous rivulets down your neck. The impact forces you backward slightly, and the head bounces off your shoulder before landing on the floor with a wet squelch.

The cabin fills with the putrid stench of death—the cloying, metallic tang of freshly spilled blood mingling with the sour odor of decay. Chunks of gore and strands of sinew still cling to the ragged, torn neck, where the pirate captain’s blade had severed it with merciless precision. Bone fragments glint faintly in the dim light, jagged and exposed like a grotesque reminder of the brutality that birthed this grisly gift.

You feel the congealed blood smear across your lips, the taste coppery and nauseating as it mingles with your tears. A thick glob of something unidentifiable—a piece of flesh or fat—clings stubbornly to your cheek, while a splatter of crimson has found its way into your mouth, the taste of death an unwelcome invader.

The lifeless eyes of the boy, once filled with fear and determination, now stare up at you, glassy and unseeing. His mouth hangs open in a silent scream, blood caking his lips and teeth. A patch of his scalp, partially scalped during the beheading, hangs loosely, revealing raw, glistening flesh beneath.

Above it all, the Capitán's cruel laughter rings out, his grin widening as he takes in the horror etched across your face. "A fitting fate for a traitor, don’t you think?" he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He kneels beside you, his fingers reaching out to smear the blood across your face like some grotesque war paint. The sticky warmth clings to you, a visceral reminder of his control, his power, and his complete disregard for human life.

The distant sound of pirates outside the cabin cheer seems amplified now, their laughter a cacophony of depravity that fills your ears and fuels your anger.

"So, mi querida," the Capitán says, his voice low and menacing, "you thought you could escape me, did you?" He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes are cold and hard, the earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a steely determination to break you. "You see what happens to those who try to help you?" His grip tightens, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek, mingling with the blood and cum that already mar your skin.

You remain silent, your eyes blazing with a mix of anger and fear. The cabin boy's sacrifice won't be in vain; you'll find a way to honor his courage.

The pirate captain seems to read your thoughts, a smug look crossing his face. "Ah, still so defiant. It's what I love most about you."

He releases your hair, letting your head fall back onto the disheveled pillow. "But fear not, I have something special planned for you tonight. Something that will truly show you who's in charge here."

The pirate captain's usually well-hidden jealousy flares like a beacon in the night, and his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of the cabin boy's lifeless head on the floor. He wipes a stray drop of blood from your cheek, his gaze lingering on your tear-stained skin. "You see," he murmurs, "you belong to me now. And I don't share."

The Capitán's words are like a knife twisting in your gut, the realization of the cabin boy's fate hitting you like a physical blow.

Yet, you remain silent, your eyes never leaving his.

His anger and jealousy are palpable, a living, breathing entity in the room that coils around you like a snake.

He grabs the head by the hair, lifting it to your face so that the dead eyes seem to stare accusingly into yours. "Look at him," he says, his voice a snarl of possession, "he thought he could take what's mine, but now he watches as I claim you." He places the severed head next to the pillow beside you.

You feel his weight shift on the bed as he moves to straddle you, his cock still hard and demanding. His hands roam your body, his touch no longer gentle but possessive and bruising.

You struggle against him, trying to push him away, but your bound wrists are no match for his brute strength. "You will learn your place," he says, his voice a dark promise as he reaches down to spread your legs wider. "And if it's the last thing I do, I will make you scream my name."

The pirate captain's hand slides between your thighs, his rough fingers finding your clit and pressing down hard. You grit your teeth, trying to hold back the involuntary moan that threatens to escape as he starts to rub you in slow, deliberate circles.

His thumb circles your clit, each pass sending a bolt of pleasure through your body despite the horror of the situation.

"You're so wet for me," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, "even when you're crying for that worthless damn boy." His coldblooded rage is a living thing, a beast that feeds on your fear and humiliation.

You want to spit in his face, to tell him that you're not wet for him, that you'd never want a monster like him.

But your body seems to have a mind of its own, and the slickness between your legs is undeniable proof of your traitorous arousal.

He notices your struggle and sneers, his hand moving away from your clit to grip the base of his cock.

"Open your mouth," he commands, and you know what's coming next.

You do as you're told, the taste of his cum still fresh on your tongue. He guides his cock back into your mouth, his eyes boring into yours as he starts to fuck your face again, harder and more punishing than before.

The tears fall freely now, mixing with the blood and sweat that already coat your skin. You feel his hands on your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples, the pain a stark contrast to the pleasure he's coaxing from your pussy.

He's not even trying to be gentle, his actions driven by his need to dominate and control.

And as much as you hate him for it, a part of you responds, your body arching into his touch despite your silent protests.

The Capitán's eyes gleam with dark excitement at your silent rebellion, and he takes your refusal to acknowledge his dominance as a personal challenge.

He pulls his cock from your mouth, the wet sound of it leaving your lips echoing in the tense silence of the cabin. He stands up, his erection jutting out from his breeches like a weapon of war. You can see the pulse in the thick vein that runs along the underside, a testament to his desire.

"You're going to wish you'd been more obedient, my sweet," he says, his voice low and filled with malice.

He strides to his desk and pulls open a drawer, withdrawing a pistol that gleams dully in the candlelight. He checks the chambers, ensuring it's loaded, then turns back to you with a wicked smile. "This will be your lesson in obedience," he declares, striding back to the bed.

He cocks the pistol, the metallic click echoing through the cabin. You feel a cold bead of fear trickle down your spine as he presses the cold, hard muzzle against your clit. "Suck me," he commands, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine.

You know what he's planning, the horror of it all making bile rise in your throat. But you also know that resisting now will only make it worse.

With a resigned anger, you open your mouth and take him back in, the taste of his earlier release still coating your tongue. He groans in pleasure as he starts to fuck your mouth with renewed vigor, his hips rocking in time with the strokes of your hand. You can feel the pistol's muzzle moving against your sensitive flesh, the pressure building as he becomes more and more agitated.

"Look at me," he snarls, his hand tightening in your hair as he forces you to meet his gaze. His eyes are wild, a mix of anger and lust that makes you feel like prey caught in a predator's snare.

"You're going to swallow me whole, and then you're going to take this," he says, pausing to press the gun harder against your clit. "And you're going to beg for it."

You suck harder, trying to ignore the cold steel pressing against your sensitive flesh.

You know that if you don't give him what he wants, if you don't submit to his twisted games, the consequences will be dire.

And yet, a part of you clings to your defiance, refusing to give in to his sadistic desires.

"Look at me," he repeats, his voice a harsh demand. "Look at me when I fuck your whore mouth."

You glare up at him, the hatred in your eyes unmistakable.

But you don't look away.

You can't.

His cock fills your mouth, stretching your lips and jaw as he takes what he wants without mercy.

The pistol presses harder against your clit, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat building between your legs.

He's going to do it.

He's going to fuck you with it while you suck him off, and there's nothing you can do to stop him.

With a snarl of triumph, the Capitán pulls back, the head of his cock popping free of your mouth with an obscene sound.

He lines up the pistol with your entrance, the muzzle slick with your juices from his earlier touch. "Beg," he says, his voice low and demanding. "Fucking beg for it."

You don’t. You’ve had enough of this torment!

The moment you try to fight back, thrashing and squirming like a cornered animal, the cold steel of the pistol is replaced by a searing pain in your thigh.

You scream around his cock, your body arching in agony as the bullet tears through your flesh.

The cabin boy's headless body beside your pillow seems to mock you, a silent reminder of what happens to those who dare to defy the pirate captain.

"Ah, such a spirited little whore," he chuckles, his voice thick with sadistic pleasure.

He digs his fingers into your injured flesh, making you scream in agony, the vibrations making him moan in triumph. He then slowly pulls the pistol out of you, the sound of your blood and juices mixing with a wet pop that makes your stomach churn.

He wipes the blood from the muzzle with the corner of the bed sheet, his eyes never leaving yours. "I told you I wouldn't kill you. Yet," he adds, a warning in his tone that sends a fresh wave of fear crashing over you.

He leans in, his cock still rock-hard and slick with your saliva. His free hand wraps around the shaft, stroking himself as he watches you squirm and cry out in pain.

"Now, let's try this again, shall we?" He presses the gun back against your clit, the threat of another shot clear in his eyes.

You're trembling, the pain from your leg radiating through your entire body, but you know that submitting is the only way to survive this nightmare.

"P-please," you manage to croak out, the word sticking in your throat like a shard of glass.

His smile widens, and you feel the pressure of the gun increase. "Beg for it, bitch," he whispers, his eyes glinting in the flickering candlelight.

With a shudder, you do as he commands, your voice hoarse and filled with pain. "Please, fuck me with it," you murmur, the words barely audible.

The pirate captain's chuckle is the only response before he lines the pistol up with your entrance, the cold metal pressing against your bruised and swollen flesh.

You feel your body clench and jolt away in reflex, but his hand on the back of your head keeps you in place.

"That's better," he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal as he starts to slide the pistol into you.

You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the screams that threaten to tear from your throat.

The pain is unbearable, a white-hot agony that makes your vision swim as the barrel stretches you impossibly wide. His eyes never leave yours, the triumph in his gaze making it clear that he's enjoying every second of your torment.

You feel his hand move to the base of the pistol, his thumb pressing against your clit as he starts to fuck you with the gun. "Look how much you want it," he says, his voice a low purr that makes your skin crawl.

"How much you need me to fill you up, to make you scream." The pain is unreal, but so is the pressure building inside you. Your body betrays you once again, your hips moving in time with his thrusts despite the agony.

The Capitán's smile broadens into a sadistic grin as he watches you succumb to his will, your body betraying you as it responds to his depraved advances. He thrusts the pistol in and out of your pussy, the wet, obscene sounds of your forced submission filling the cabin.

His thumb continues to tease your clit, his movements becoming more insistent and rough. "You're such a good little bitch," he murmurs, his voice a caress that sends shivers down your spine despite the horror of the situation.

You bite your lip hard to keep from crying out as he continues to fuck you with the gun. Each thrust sends waves of pain and pleasure through your body, a toxic mix that you know will only serve to further ensnare you in his twisted game.

The blood from your leg soaks the bed, a stark crimson against the white sheets, but he seems unfazed by your pain.

If anything, it seems to excite him more, his strokes becoming harder and faster.

As the pirate captain continues to fuck you with the pistol, your body reaches its breaking point.

The pain in your leg is a dull throb compared to the agonizing pleasure he's wringing from your body, and you can't hold back the screams anymore.

You arch your back, pushing the gun deeper into yourself, desperate for the release that you know is coming. Your cries of pain and pleasure mingle, the sounds of your body being violated by the cold, hard metal echoing in the cabin.

The Capitán's eyes light up with victory as he sees you give in to his control.

He leans down, his lips capturing yours in a brutal kiss as he continues to use the gun on you, his tongue invading your mouth as his cock does the same.

He licks the tears from your face, his own passion mixing with your pain as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"Mi vida, mi tesoro," he murmurs, his voice a dark symphony of lust and possession.

You moan against his mouth, unable to stop your body's reaction to the mix of pain and pleasure.

He pulls away, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watches you squirm and beg. "Look at you," he says, his voice filled with a sadistic glee. "You're mine now, body and soul."

He continues to thrust the gun into you, the rhythm growing more erratic as he nears his own climax. "You're going to come for me," he commands, his voice low and intense. "You're going to scream my fucking name."

Your eyes squeeze shut as the pressure builds, the pain from your leg forgotten in the face of the overwhelming sensations.

You hate him, you want to fight him, but your body responds to his touch like it's been programmed to do so.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you know that when you fall, there will be no turning back.

With a final, desperate effort, you push against the pistol, the muzzle sliding into you one last time before you shatter, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm and screams.

The pirate captain laughs, his voice a dark, triumphant sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He pulls the gun out of you with a wet, obscene sound, his eyes never leaving yours.

"There it is," he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. "My beautiful little slut, coming for me like the breeding bitch you are."

He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, the gesture almost tender, a stark contrast to the horror of the situation.

"Look what you've done to yourself," he murmurs, his voice a silken threat.

He pulls out the gun, your cum mixing with your blood, and wipes the barrel off with the bed sheet. "You're so eager to please me, aren't you?" He slides the pistol back into his pants, the metal still warm from your body heat.

You lie there, trembling and broken, the agony of your leg and the overwhelming sense of violation washing over you in waves.

The pirate captain leans over you, his breath hot and rank as he whispers in your ear, "Now, let's see if you can scream for me without that pesky little thing in your pussy."

He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back until you're staring into his triumphant gaze. His other hand snakes down to your clit, pinching and twisting it with a cruel precision that has you crying out in pain.

"That's it," he coos, his grip tightening, "scream for me, mi vida. Let them all hear how much you love it."

His fingers continue to torment you, the pain unbearable and yet, your body's traitorous response is unmistakable. The pirate's eyes gleam with excitement as he feels you growing wetter, the slickness of your arousal making his movements easier.

You fight against the ropes binding you, the need to escape this nightmare overwhelming.

But with each painful stroke of his fingers, your body responds, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"You like it rough, don't you, slutty bitch?" He laughs, the sound echoing around the cabin, sending chills down your spine.

His hand moves to the wound in your leg, the blood sticky under his calloused touch. He squeezes, and the pain is like a knife twisting in your flesh.

You try to scream, but it's muffled by the gag he's immediately shoved into your mouth.

He's enjoying this, the sadistic glint in his eyes growing brighter as he watches you suffer.

"You're going to come again," he promises, his voice dark and seductive. "And this time, it's going to be for me, and only me."

He reaches down and unbinds your legs, tossing the ropes aside. You kick out at him, trying to connect with any part of his body, but he's too fast, too experienced in the art of subjugation.

He catches your ankle and pins it to the bed, his grip like iron. "You want to fight me, baby?" he purrs, his free hand moving to trace the bullet wound in your leg. "Let's see how much you can fucking take."

With a sadistic smirk, he presses his thumb into the fresh wound, making you gasp and buck against him. He uses the leverage to push you down into the mattress, his weight crushing the breath from your lungs.

"Beg me for more," he whispers, his hand moving to cover your mouth, muffling your screams.

You want to bite him, to make him feel the same pain he's inflicting on you, but all that comes out are muffled cries of agony.

"Say it," he growls, his eyes burning with an intensity that makes you feel like you're staring into the abyss. "Beg me for more, and I'll give it to you."

His hand moves from your mouth to your throat, squeezing just enough to cut off your air, making you panic.

Your eyes widen in terror, and you feel your body respond again, the sickening mix of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling towards another climax.

You try to shake your head, but the pressure on your neck doesn't allow for much movement.

The world starts to go dark around the edges, the pain from your leg a distant memory as the need to breathe overwhelms you. "P-please," you gasp through the gag, the word barely a whisper, but it seems to be enough for him. He releases his grip just enough for you to drag in a lungful of air, his smile never leaving his lips.

The pirate captain's sadistic smile widens as he pulls the gag from your mouth, tossing it aside with a wet slap.

His eyes are dark with desire, and he leans in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that leaves no doubt about his intentions. You can taste the salt of your own tears on his lips, the bitter tang of fear and despair mixing with the sweetness of his victory.

His hand moves to your throat, his thumb stroking the spot where he'd just been choking you, a gentle caress that feels almost loving despite the cruelty of his actions.

"You're going to beg me to fuck you, my sweet little bitch," he murmurs against your mouth, his breath hot and heavy with lust. "You're going to scream for it, like the promiscuous cum dump you are."

His hand moves from your throat to your clit, his thumb pressing down with a firmness that's just shy of pain. You whimper, your body betraying you as it responds to his touch despite the horror of what's happening.

With a growl of triumph, he positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock nudging against your bruised and swollen entrance.

You try to close your legs, but he's too strong, his hands pushing them apart with ease. "Look at how eager you are," he says, his voice thick with satisfaction as he pushes into you. "Fucking soaking all for me."

You whimper as he fills you, his thick cock stretching you in a way that's almost too much to bear.

He's rough, his movements punishing as he fucks you with a ferocity that matches the storm raging outside. His teeth graze your neck, nipping and sucking as he whispers degrading names into your ear.

"Mi puta," he murmurs, his voice a dark symphony of lust and possession. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" His grip on your throat tightens, the pressure increasing with each thrust.

The Capitán's cock slams into you with a ferocity that seems fueled by his possessive rage.

Each brutal thrust sends waves of agony through your bruised body, making your injuries from the pistol's earlier assault throb in time with the pounding of your heart.

You feel your body stretch and accommodate him, despite the pain, your pussy clenching around his thick length as he fucks you with a primal hunger that's as terrifying as it is exhilarating.

The cabin seems to shake with each impact, the headboard slamming against the wall as if it's trying to break free from the depraved scene unfolding on the bed.

With each powerful thrust, you feel your body giving in to the inescapable pleasure that he's wringing from you, despite the pain and fear.

Your eyes meet his, a silent scream of defiance trapped within them, but his gaze is unyielding, a stormy sea of lust and jealousy that seems to consume everything in its path.

He grunts, his muscles bulging as he fucks you harder, his hips slapping against your bruised thighs. You can't help but whimper, your body a canvas for his depraved artistry.

The cabin's walls seem to close in around you, the air thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and sex.

"Look at me," he snarls, his grip on your neck tightening, his eyes boring into yours. "Remember who fucking owns this tight little pussy. Me. You���re my fucking bitch. Damn mine!"

His words are like a whip cracking in the air, cutting through your thoughts. You want to hate him, to fight him, but the need for release is too strong.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the screams that threaten to spill forth as much as you can. But he knows, he can feel it in the way your pussy clenches around his cock, in the desperate way your body arches into his touch.

The pirate captain's cock stretches you to your limits, his relentless pounding pushing into you with a ferocity that borders on savagery.

The pain is a living, pulsing thing, a beast that feeds on your fear and despair, but the dark, twisted part of you that you hate to admit craves his touch.

He grunts and growls above you, his eyes never leaving yours as he fucks you into the mattress, his massive cock driving deep into your trembling body. The cabin walls seem to pulse with the force of his thrusts, the candlelight casting flickering shadows across the room, painting the scene in a hellish, erotic tableau.

"You're mine," he whispers, his voice a mix of lust and possessiveness that sends a shiver down your spine. "Mine to use, mine to fuck. Mine to fucking destroy."

His hand slides down your body, his fingers finding your clit and beginning to rub it in quick, sharp circles that have you moaning despite the pain. "You're going to scream for me," he says, his voice a dark promise that you know he'll keep.

You feel your body responding to his touch, your pussy clenching around his cock as he fucks you deeper, harder. He's relentless, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that steals your breath away.

You try to keep your eyes open, to maintain that semblance of defiance, but the pleasure is too intense, the pain too great. You close your eyes, your head falling back against the pillow as he fucks you through another orgasm, your body convulsing around him.

The Capitán's rough, skilled fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, the painful pleasure pushing you to the brink of sanity.

With every cruel stroke, he whispers degrading names in your ear, his voice a dark symphony of lust and ownership. "You're just a set of holes for me to use," he murmurs, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "A good-for-nothing cumslut who's only good for taking cock."

His words are a brand, searing themselves into your soul, making you feel filthy and used.

And yet, your body responds, your pussy clenching around his thick shaft as you're forced to endure wave after wave of involuntary orgasms.

Each one feels like a betrayal, a surrender to his will.

You feel the warmth of his cum spilling into you, filling you with his seed as he groans in victory, riding out both of your orgasms. After a while, he pulls out with a disgustingly wet squelch, leaving you feeling empty and violated, your body still trembling from the onslaught.

He wipes his cock on your stomach, smearing your own blood and combined juices across your skin with a satisfied smirk. "Look what a mess you are," he says, his voice mocking as he stands up, adjusting his pants. "A filthy little slut who can't even keep still when she's being fucked."

The pirate captain licks his lips hungrily as he grabs your chin, forcing your gaze up to meet his. "You're mine now," he says, his voice low and menacing. "You're going to do everything I say, when I say it, and you're going to like it."

He lets go of your chin, the sting of his grip lingering. After putting on his clothes lazily, he turns to the door with a cocky and mocking grin. "If you're a good girl, maybe I'll let you clean up. Or maybe I'll just leave you here to marinate in your own filth."

He opens the door, the light from the hallway spilling into the cabin like a beacon of hope that's quickly extinguished as he steps out, leaving you alone with your despair.

The sound of his booted footsteps recedes, leaving you shaking and sobbing on the bed, your body a canvas of bruises and pain. The door slams shut, the finality of the sound echoing through the cabin.

You feel a warm trickle of blood seep from the wound in your leg, mixing with the sticky wetness between your thighs. The bed creaks beneath you as you try to move, the ropes still binding your wrists to the headboard. You pull against them, the leather biting into your skin, but it's no use.

You're his, to do with as he pleases.

────────────

The Capitán strides out of the cabin, his steps heavy and confident as he makes his way to the dining area of the ship. His crew members look up from their plates of roast chicken and hardtack, their eyes widening slightly at the sight of their captain's flushed face and swollen, satisfied expression.

His shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his broad, sweat-slicked chest, and there's a smear of something dark on his cheek that could easily be mistaken for a smudge of ink.

The smell of sex and sweat clings to him like a second skin, a potent scent that seems to hang in the air around him.

"Capitán," one of the crew members says, his voice tentative. "You seem…different."

The pirate captain smirks, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. "Aye," he says, his Spanish accent thick and smoky. "I've had a bit of an…adventure."

He runs a hand through his hair, still damp with sweat from his encounter with you. His gaze lingers on the door to his cabin, the grin never leaving his face.

The crew exchanges glances, whispers of speculation passing among them. They know better than to pry into the Capitán's personal matters, but the change in his demeanor is palpable.

Usually, he's a man of few words and fewer smiles, his mood as tempestuous as the seas they sail.

But tonight, there's a lightness to him, a hint of amusement that makes the air around him crackle with a tension none of them dare to name.

[rea-crx]

I am looking respectfully 👁👁

(Want to use the meme but decided not to do it 🫠)

Comfort in a new world

Eden wants you to know that he cares for you and is always there for you, wetter it be romantically or platonically, he will show that you are loved and valued. Especially when you are feeling down.

Let him take care of you, and let him love you. You are both not form this nightmare of a world, so stick together and navigate it with eachother..

I just wanted some Eden fluff, I've been feeling awful these past weeks so, letting the lil crow-angel-thing take care of me would be so nice....

[mellowwillowy]

Your boyfriend had always been charming with how easygoing he was toward everyone. That was what drew you to the younger man, he knew which buttons to press to impress you a tad too well.

Everyone envied you. You were just a nobody while your boyfriend was an everything. A rich sole heir from a prestigious family which you weren't aware of until it was two years into the relationship. He might be testing you or whatever but the result proved to be satisfying when he learned that you were someone far from the shallowness he had been seeing. You did not measure him by his competency and wealth, you measured him by his compatibility with you.

You were a fresh breath for him who had been living a suffocating life for 25 years, bound by decisions that were made by his family.

You were something he could finally obtain by his own hands, his own decision, and something he could finally be obsessed with. It wasn't a fleeting obsession like an attraction toward a trending band. It was far from it. It was an addiction, a drug injected into his vein. And you would never notice it until it was too late for you. Cillian was a man far from your ideal but he could mold himself just to be your boyfriend. He would play pretend to be a funny man who just went on his harmless whims and your dictations. He knew he hated his family's dictations on his life but you?

He was just playing along. You were far from the terror his family gave him for all these years alive. But he wouldn't let you know to protect that one fragile pride you could only rely on.

... He was starting to sound like your best friend...

For someone who had reached their late 20s, you never expected to date someone who had just reached their mid-20s. A charming, handsome man who loved to crack countless jokes just to see you smile. Romance didn't suit you. You had always thought you'd live until the 50s single while working endlessly for a hopeful retirement.

But everything changed the moment you dated him. You'd lead a domestic life together where the two of you would work together for a future you had carefully planned.

"I think you might graduate in 1998 so how about we get married after you get your doctorate?" Cillian asked you tenderly as he eyed your occupied ring finger, measuring your finger size while also disdainfully tugging on the silver ring your best friend gave you as a bridesmaid gift.

"That sounds just right to me, it might be too late for me already but it's a perfect age for you to marry me."

Cillian was five years younger than you and he would be 28 by the time you two got married. You didn't care about people's opinions. Their snickers did not determine your choice of life.

Cillian pulled your head to rest on his shoulder, his eyes closed while he ran his mouth about how much he loved you. About how much he couldn't wait for the future where the two of you were bound by the wedding vow and rings, as one.

"I'd never leave you. We are meant to be one." he mumbled as he intertwined your hand with his, "... I will find a way to have you close to me forever."

You cocked your eyebrow at his words but said nothing in response, shrugging it off as some melodramatic profession of love until it finally hit you that he meant it. Four years into the relationship, he decided to break it off because he was called back home to marry a woman of his family's choice. It was exactly one year before the two of you were supposed to marry each other and yet he selfishly ended it.

He was the one who professed his love the most yet he was also the one who ruined it. He ruined everything, your life plan and schedule all burned down just like how you burned the wedding invitation. He'd pay for the flight ticket from America to France and cover all the commodities because that was all he could do to see you again.

He could never pay you back for what he had done to make you suffer. The year wasted on college leave, the hospital and psychiatrist bill to mend your broken dream and mental and the life schedule you had planned before you even met him; he could never fix it back.

"Because the only thing you have is your stupid wealth and stupid power scandal with everyone around me, destroying bits of my life!"

The man dared to see you personally in your home country. It was 1999, a year after his marriage and a few months after you graduated. Everything had been a living hell ever since you two broke up. Your education journey went into a downfall along with your career dream as a perfumer and now he proudly destroyed your career as a professor as well.

All in exchange for you to become his secret lover and move to France together with him yet he worded it as though this was more of an opportunity for you to finally be a professor in one of France's prestigious universities.

"... I will find a way to have you close to me forever."

Cillian had always been a charming young man but all you saw now was the sight of a faceless monster who tore your future apart out of his idealism with love.

He knew he was no different than you. The two of you were a match made in hell and now you had to live in hell itself.

Reference: Episode 5.0 and 5.5 from Power Scandal

[darkbluekies]

There's this scenario i have waited to share with you because I feel like it'd make a bigger effect if I surprised you with it, but I found a picture that corresponded to my thoughts and I have to share it, I have to

Edmunds pride is bigger than the sun, BUT, there's one thing he would do if he had to. People keep before him to show his power, and he is the most powerful in the kingdom ... so he wouldn't kneel before anyone else .... right?

[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 3 : A new pet

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

Previous chapter

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

CW: NSFW, praise kink, teasing, porn with plot, petplay, obsessive behaviour, yandere, mention of stalking, giving head/eating out, dom reader, receiving reader, bottoming reader and use of protection

(Even if the reader is bottoming at some point I made it vague enough so you can imagine which whole is being used.)

Word count: Over 3K

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As stupid as it was, you didn’t call the police.

There you were, sitting in front of your phone, debating if you were making the right choice or not. You finally took it and called the coffee shop, cutely named “Brioche d'Or”. You jumped in your seat when a cheery voice answered.

“You have called Brioche d’Or! I’m Pierre, how can I help you today?”

“Can I speak to Jacce…please?”

“Yes absolutely, could I get your name?”

You told the employee your name and heard shuffling on the other end of the line, before you could faintly hear him say “You’re more popular than I thought!” You had to suppress a chuckle, because by that time, Jacce had taken the phone from Pierre. 

“H-hey, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, at what time could you come to my place today?”

Silence fell on the other line, except for his heavy breathing. Even if you weren’t in front of him, it's like you could feel the warmth of his breath through the handset.

“Is 3 pm alright?” his voice sounded choked, as if he had runned out of air. 

You hummed in response and swiftly told him goodbye, hanging up before he could answer. Your face was burning hot and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at the time. You had five hours until he arrived. 

***

The moment you heard knocking on the door you took a deep breath. The man standing at your doorstep was towering over you with the most nervous, but strangely excited, expression on his face. You didn't even give him the chance to open his mouth as you pulled him inside. When the front door was shut close, Jacce leaned in on you– expecting you to kiss him. You awkwardly turned your head to the side while pressing your hands on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. He tilted his head, confused, but you could see some arousal in them, surely due to your touch.

“Let's go to the living room.” You whispered, feeling like your lungs were crushed by the proximity. 

As you sat down on the couch, Jacce remained standing, giving you quick glances as if he was waiting for you to say something. 

“You can sit, you know.”

To your surprise, he sat on the ground instead of taking a place beside you or in any other chair available. You could feel your lower half warm up instantly at his actions. You scolded yourself mentally for being turned on by a simple action, but it didn’t prevent you from imagining the most blasphemous scenarios. You cough the thoughts away before opening your mouth again. 

“Ok so, I thought about you becoming my… you know…”

It was out of the question for you to say “pet” or “servant”, this whole situation was already lewd enough with him kneeled down before you. Luckily Jacce nodded without saying the quiet part out loud. 

“I guess it was pretty obvious since I invited you here… " You laughed awkwardly as you felt the heat rise up to your face. 

In the meanwhile, Jacce kept staring up at you with this submissive look, accentuated by his down turned eyes. He was really making it hard for you to think straight. It was almost like his body language was screaming at you to kiss him already. 

"Does that mean I can… live with you from now on?" He asked, tilting his head. 

You froze at the question. Even if this guy had clearly shown that he wished to be yours, you didn’t realize it meant living together as well. You blamed your touch depraved self for not thinking any of this through. 

"Oh em… I didn’t think about that part… Don’t you have an apartment or something?”

“I have a house actually, but it’s ok… I want to be with you.”

You look at him stunned, how could he talk about leaving his house behind like it was nothing!? Especially in this economy! Maybe he was hoping for you to move in with him one day, but you had other things to worry about for now. 

“I guess you could live here if you promise to do what I say."

Jacce nodded with clear eagerness, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate as he spoke again. “I p-promise! I’ll do anything just to stay by your side. " 

As threatening as that last part sounded, you felt honored that someone would go that far just for you. You also mentally winced, you had no time to unpack all the childhood trauma that could have led you to think this way. 

“So no more stalking if I tell you to?”

He seemed to ponder at first, but ultimately agreed, “I won’t need to anyway since I am yours now, but y-yay I’ll stop.” 

“And no more secretly touching yourself while watching me?”

He shook his head up and down quickly. You could feel the lust and impatience taking control of him the more time he was spending in your presence, his entire face getting flustered by the second. You wanted the same thing then him at that moment, but it was crucial to establish rules and you had one more in mind. 

"Before settling this, I need to make something very clear. I know you want to pleasure me and all, but I don’t want you to force yourself when you’re not in the mood. "

"But—"

"Ah ah. No but, If I’m not one hundred percent sure you want it to, we won’t do anything. No arguing with that. Say that you will always be honest."

Despite Jacce being visibly shocked, not understanding why you wouldn’t want to use him without his input, a part of him was touched. If that wasn't proof of your love for him, he didn’t know what else could prove it. 

“I will… always be honest about my mood…” He said slowly, almost like a child being forced to admit a fault they committed. 

“Good and now that’s cleared, do you want to continue where we left off last—.”

“YES!”

You were caught off guard by the sudden rise of his voice, but you were more surprised by his lack of action. You expected Jacce to jump on you like a dog in heat, but no, instead he was twitching his hips forward into the air with his tongue slightly sticking out. He had been a well behaved boy ever since he got here now that you think about it. He certainly deserved a treat. 

You started unzipping your pants as the kneeled man watched your every move, his body trembling in anticipation. You took your pants off, followed by your underwear, grinning at the little whimper he let out at the sight of your private parts. You tapped your thighs, and the man immediately crawled to settle between your legs, licking his lips. You couldn’t help but grin at the lewd display.

"Pleaseee can I lick?" He whined as his gaze was still fixated on your arousal. 

A soft yes escaped your mouth, as you prepared yourself mentally. He leaned forward and took your core into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around while his hands caressed your thighs.  

“Good boy.” You cooed. 

Jacce moaned and continued to move his head eagerly, covering every bit with saliva. He felt a wave of ecstasy wash over him as he tasted you on his tongue. His free hand reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, making it stand tall against his clothes stomach. The second he was done, Jacce’s hands went to cup your thighs again, gripping the soft flesh possessively. He was using his mouth like a pro, making you wonder if he had done this before or if he just… practiced with toys.

After a while of him servicing you like an obedient little puppy, you couldn’t hold back the burning desire residing in your guts anymore. 

It was too much. He was too much.

So you placed your hands behind his head, slowly taking a fist full of his hair. The soft gesture made Jacce moan between your legs, thinking you were petting him as a result of his devotion. If only he knew that it was hiding a less innocent intention. 

"Jacce I really need to… "

He seemed to finally understand what you were trying to do since his grip on you disappeared and he stopped moving his head. Jacce stared up at you through his eyelashes, waiting for you to sink into your desires. You leisurely started to move your hips so as not to startle him, but quickly picked up the pace. The man under you kept making loud sounds of pleasure despite your roughness. The vibration on your sensitive skin stimulated your arousal even more. Even with the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, Jacce’s cock couldn’t stop leaking. If his mouth wasn’t occupied right now, he would have gone on and on about how much he loved you. 

While lost in the overwhelming sensations, your mind was suddenly reminded to check on the guy choking under you. You swiftly looked down with your eyelids halfway closed. If anything, his rolled back eyes and the fact that he was still trying to touch you in other ways were good indicators that he was enjoying this as much as you were. In spite of his visible enthusiasm, you pulled away to let him breathe, which made him whine in disappointment. Now that his head was out of the way, you were also able to see his swollen dick pulsing like crazy, precum oozing out of it to complete the look. Knowing he could get this hard by simply servicing you was making him even more attractive. 

"Look at you… not touching yourself because I didn’t allow you too. " You answer between shortness of breath, “I think you deserve to… to feel good with me now.” 

***

You lowered yourself until the tip of his glans brushed against your hole. You wrapped your fingers at the base of his cock and patted it against your entrance. Jacce winced at the contact, or in better terms, the painful lack of it. 

“Please please please, let… let me be inside. Pleaseee.” He begged, trying his hardest to keep his hips down. 

“You need to be patient, Jacce.” You reminded him while ignoring his pleas. 

You weren’t much better to be honest. The thought of fucking him stupid clouded your mind since that time you gave him a hand job. Your self control was all for show since you didn’t want to look like a desperate pervert in front of him. That was his job. 

After some more teasing, you finally sunk down onto his dick, gritting your teeth as it stretched you out. The both of you let out moans at the pleasurable sensation. The feeling of his hard cock inside you was already overwhelming all your senses. 

“Does it Ngh– hurt? Do you w-want… to stop?”

Despite his worried tone, his facial expression and heavy breathing gave away how blissed out he was. He also kept making small whines ever since his cock was surrounded by your warmth, not to mention that his cock also pulsated non stop against your walls. 

“I’m ok. You're just… thick.” You answered vaguely, too embarrassed to admit how he was stuffing you up perfectly. 

Pride overtook him, knowing that his dick would definitely grace all of your sensitive spots. That’s what he was made for, to be used by you until he breaks and to be an obedient pet that feels fulfilled by making you happy. 

Only when you felt your insides adjusted to his shape did you raise your hips slowly, before dropping yourself with all your weight. You kept that pace, all the while admiring his face twist in pleasure. 

“I’m yours!" He cried out instinctively in a quivering voice, "a-all yours!"

To keep yourself bouncing rhythmically, one of your hands went to his shoulder. You cupped his face with the other, gently caressing his cheek to compensate how ruthless you were with his cock. Jacce looked at you through his messy hair and fuck he had the most dazed expression. He couldn’t help but whimper loudly and nuzzle his head into your touch. You expected him to say something again as he opened his mouth, but instead he started sucking on your thumb as he kept up your gaze.

“Such a good puppy for me.” You praised while bouncing faster. 

The mess under you moaned and gasped as new waves of pleasure hit his nervous system. The sound of your ass hitting the flesh of his thigh became louder from your swift movements, almost overshadowing the cute sounds Jacce couldn’t keep to himself. He had stopped sucking your finger, to your disappointment, but it looked like he was actually trying to say something now. You leaned closer, making sure to let your warm breath graze his skin. 

“Come on, I know you can use your words.”

The mess under you made multiple whines in response. You were so cruel to force him to speak like a proper human being when his brain was clearly far too gone to create any coherent sentences. You glanced down and saw how hard he was clenching his hands, both resting onto the soft material of the sofa. So you slowed down a bit, allowing him to speak his mind. Jacce swallowed the drool that had accumulated in his mouth, before answering as best as he could. 

“If you go Mngh— this fa-fast, I won’t… Ah ah… be able to keep it in like a good bo— Unff.” His breath had drastically quickened, confirming his complaints. 

“So sensitive.” You teased, while sneaking a hand under his shirt to go play with his nipples. 

“Aargh— mmff!” Jacce leaned up to trap you in a strong embrace, preventing you from stimulating him further, “w-would be too m-much.” He sobbed into the fabric of your clothes. 

Taking pity on him, and totally not turned on even more by his behavior, you wiggled your hand out of between your chests and cupped the back of his head. Jacce's body and grip eased up as the gentle tingle of your touch took its effects on him. 

“Thank’you…” He muttered in that whiny tone that made you go crazy. 

“Now, how about I let you choose the rhythm?” You grin mischievously, knowing the kind of reaction it would get out of him. Just as you expected, Jacce’s eyes opened wide and you could see a glint of excitement in them. 

“A-are you sure? I… I really can?” 

You hummed in response while guiding one of his hands to your waist. To feel his trembling touch against your exposed skin made your stomach twist in that familiar urge to turn him into a crying mess. But no. You wanted his first time with you to be more relaxed. The humiliation of making him cum prematurely would come later, if he’s on board with it, which you're pretty sure he would. 

Meanwhile, your puppy didn’t need more for his fingers to dig into your flesh and his hips to tentatively roll up to meet with your pelvis. Jacce’s eyes closed from the spark of pleasure, but only for him to force them open so he could admire your complexion. He had spent enough time imagining your face alone in his room, and now that he had the real deal in front of him he was going to enjoy every second of it. 

“Lov’you… M-mine…ngh—” He muttered in a whiny voice, only to repeat mine over and over again, louder each time. 

You couldn’t tell if it was a statement on his part or if he was looking for your approval. Either way you found the contrast between his possessive words and his pathetic attitude endearing. He could say that as much as he wanted, but you both knew that, at the end of the day, he was more yours than anything else. 

Jacce started grinding up on your ass desperately, as if you were a magnet he couldn’t pull away from. His brain couldn’t think of anything else than the ecstasy coursing through his body every time his shaft was engulfed inside you once more. For someone who wanted you to go slow in the fear of cumming prematurely, he was going strangely fast now. Both of your hands grasped at his shoulder as not to go flying off because of the unfaltering movements of his hips. It would undeniably leave marks, especially with how your fingernails were pressed into his skin, not that he minded. It would be concrete proof that he was yours and that this wasn’t just a hyper-realistic wet dream. 

Jacce’s body shuddered uncontrollably as he tried his best to not cum right then and there. He needed to be a good boy for you. Meaning he needed your permission to cum, especially since it would be his first time with you. But more importantly, he needed you to climax first. To think he didn’t get the chance to taste it on his tongue earlier made him pout for a second. He was more than grateful that you wanted him to feel good too, but still, your pleasure was his priority!

“I-I need ngff… your c-cum Ah ah— p-please cum with me!”

Lucky for him, you were also close to your breaking point, the feeling in your guts ready to explode into a million pieces. 

“Yes puppy, l-let’s cum together.” You whisper back with a breathless voice.

One of your hands left his post to touch yourself down there, as best as you could anyway considering the way you were bouncing up and down on his cock. Your insides instantly tightened around him as sensation, pulling new sounds out of him. It was just the right push to tension to finally let go. 

Your body froze, and you had him in a vice grip, his dick and his shoulder alike. With your head thrown back, a shrill moan escaped your lips. This was the only signal Jacce needed to finish as well, his hips snapping back in short but swift motions. He emptied every last drop of his cum inside the rubber condom. His last moan, if it could even be qualified as such, was mixed with the start of your name, but ended with a pathetic whine. 

As Jacce came back to his senses, he could feel an uncontrollable smile forming on his lips. It was the first time you came because of him and he was feeling euphoric. Now that he got a taste of being the source of your guttural desires, there was no way he would ever leave you. He could feel his heart beating drum in his ears as his infatuation for you grew exponentially. He placed lazy kisses on your collar, his way of hiding his manic grin, and mumbled words of love. 

The wet sensation on your skin grounded you back to reality as you leaned into him. Never in your life you thought you could have the opportunity to make a grown man submit to you like this and, despite the unorthodox circumstances that brought you together, you were truly satisfied. As the aftershock of tiredness hit you, Jacce nuzzled his head into your neck, like a dog wanting to be petted for doing a trick right. 

“I’m… really yours now?” He said in a hush tone. You had noticed that every time he was in a more submissive headspace, his voice would have a whiny quality to it. Not to the length of being annoying, but just enough to sound cuter than his usual raspy voice. 

You lifted your hand to rub his back in circles.

“Yes.” 

Jacce moaned happily in response, leaning his heavy self more onto you.

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So so sorry for the late update! I hope it was worth the long wait!

Link for the chapter on Ao3

Also no drawing for this chapter! 😔 Maybe I’ll post a drawing based on something that happen in this chapter later on

[tsuutarr]

What would rome do if the reader tried to move out once the letters got more specific? Since at that point he/they didn't know more desire = stronger powers, how would he/they try to stop them? (Idk if Rome uses specific pronouns, I'm sorry I forgot 😓🙏)

Rome would lose it if the Reader tried to move out early lol

Since desire = stronger powers, I think Rome's powers would immediately amplify and burst due to his desperation if Reader tried to leave! Good thing the economy is bad and Reader is poor so Reader is stuck with Rome for the time being :)

Also, I don't usually specify pronouns so dw! I think Rome would use he/they with a preference for masculine pronouns <3

[devotion-disorder]

"i think it'd be funny if Killian fully knew how to break the curse but just. refused to help him"

what if....... we asked/bribed Killian to Make It Worse......... What would he ask for as payment and would he still let us play with Mishka's nipple piercings?

the fate of mishka's nipples rests on your hands now, anons

[2-dsimp]

I NEED MOREE CONTENT OF ICHA THE CULT LEADER FROM THE SPIN-OFFS 😭

he's just so adorable and cute and all hwjcjai 🥺🥺💕💕

if it's okay to ask, can i ask for more nsfw content for him?? he's just so adorable!! (icha favoritism?)

╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╡

Yandere Cultleader x Desperate gn reader!

╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪

Synopsis: All you wanted was a chance to be loved well look no further than your local Cultleader Icha who’s grown desperate himself. From playing docile with you all this time. (Continuation off a previous ask I already did. Might drop a part two for altar smut👀 1.6k words)

°»｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡«°

Cw:MDNI suggestive! religious themes/gore/cult activity/manipulation/gaslighting/coercion/slight mention of murder/obessive/possessive tendencies/unhealthy behavior/ Icha being delusional.

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“Ευλογημένος Έρως της αγάπης, του πόθου και του πόθου. Ξέρετε ότι η επιθυμία μου υπερβαίνει κατά πολύ εκείνη του μέσου ανθρώπου.”

The Cultleader chanted, in greek of which he learned to fully connect with his patron god. On his knees hands clasped in a prayer position as he was desperate to have you in his clutches.

“Είσαι μάρτυρας, αφοσίωσή μου, Ξέρεις πόσο καιρό έχω περάσει τόσο καιρό με αυτή την τρυφερή αγάπη στην καρδιά μου. Με σιγοκαίει!”

After spending so much time restraining himself. Acting like a docile gentleman for his darling, but seeing no progress. He was barely hanging on a thread from kidnapping you and holding you hostage in his room.

“Κύριε Έρως! Σας παρακαλώ να ακούσετε τις παρακλήσεις μου. “

The young Prophet was so needy for you that he did manifestation spells. Hoping his delusions of you magically appearing in his lap from his earnest summonings. Would come true so he could love on you like the precious babe you are.

“Δώσε μου καθοδήγηση! Ρίξε μου ένα καταραμένο κόκαλο, και θα σου δώσω ένα μπροστινό κάθισμα για το πώς θα αφήσω την επιθυμία μου για την αγάπη μου να με καταναλώσει.“

Since the day he met you he diligently prayed to his patron god Eros. For deliverance from the friend zone you unknowingly placed him in. Whilst holding a doll of you that he made from scratch using the fabric of your used underwear that he’d stolen for religious purposes.

However, his moment of praying were disturbed, hearing the repetitive knocking at his secluded altar. Within the catacombs of an abandoned cellar. Icha bristled donning his cloak with the symbolic rose markings upon his mask.

Icha’s temper was getting the best of him, as he scowled. Prepared to rip the follower a new one for interrupting his needless begging. Blowing out the incense he let Eros know of his departure. Before getting up and marching towards the door.

Though, taking his anger management lessons to heart. He did the box technique and collected himself. He is supposed to be a dignified sect leader after all.

“Devotee, you realize what you’re doing is a violation correct? As I’ve said before do not interrupt me in the middle of worship unless it’s an urgent matter.“ Icha, said in a stern tone masked with veiled frustration.

The Devotee bowed their head apologetically in response, “My apologies! Esteemed prophet, this matter is of urgency! One has come seeking for the revelations of lord Eros”

“I see, I suppose that’s arguable justification to overlook your offense. Lead the way devotee.”

The Cultleader relented begrudgingly following the grunt to the entrance of my underground lair of worship. The fanatic couldn’t possibly turn a blind eye for new worshippers. All the more to get into the good graces of the god of love and desire. With news of a new member to join their cause of finding eternal love. Only to find that the said new follower of Eros was you. The one he’s been craving all this time.

With unparalleled speed Icha shoved the grunt out of the way making haste to you. Panting like a dog in sheer excitement at how lord Eros had answered his prayers and brought his love to him. He’d be sure to show his gratitude to repay such a blessing.

“A-AHEM! Lord Eros has told me all about you! In fact your a-arrival was long overdue. And for the record Lord Eros has already b-blessed us to be soultied! T-tonight actually right at the altar!”

Icha was too excited, and just spilled his evident yearning for you to see. You of course were surprised but at the same time desperate for some type of connection. Which driven you to seek out the cult of Eros, in hopes of finding the one for you.

“R-really Eros was expecting me? And we’re to get a soultie? Is that supposed to be some sort of indoctrination ritual?”

You stammered taken aback by the Cultleader’s statement. Icha’s heterochromatic ringed eyes dilated at you in an unhinged manner. Seeing how cute you were playing dumb he stepped closer. His gloved hand coming to rest on your chin as he lifted your head up to giving a wide deranged smile.

“Of course not, the soultie ritual is sacred! Only privy to you and me. You see, you’re special! The fact that you’re here proves that Lord Eros finds us to be a match made in heaven.”

The prophet declared, letting his hand fall from your face caressing your arms and taking your hands into his. The grip was tight as Icha ushered you further into the underground space.

Passing by cloaked devotees and heading towards the restricted sacrificial room. Displaying a pristine alter where a small statue of Eros lay over watching it. Depictions of Cupids were carved into the walls. While hundreds of scented candles, surrounded the perimeter. As offerings such as roses and grapes.

“Well first things first before we can get to the good part, Lord Eros requires a s-sacrifice.”

Icha continued leading you towards a pedestal where a large ceremonial knife rested. Picking it up in his digits. The blade was sharp and clean. Perfect for the sacrifice he had in mind. To pay his god Eros tribute for such a joyous occasion.

“To fully accept you into his flock as his priestess. And take your place my second in command! You’d need to heed these simple r-rules.”

With a mere clap of his hands two upper ranked Devotes came dragging in a person whose identity was covered by the burlap sac over their head. Labeled heretic.

“Firstly, you’re not allowed to leave. The moment you stepped into his domain you’re considered as his Devotee. Any indication of betrayal/neglect in your duties towards Lord Eros results in immediate dismissal.”

Waving a hand he turned away the Devotees who bowed their heads and stalked away. After leaving behind the muffled hostage wringing around in their restraints. Begging to be released.

“Secondly, Y-you will pledge your complete and utter loyalty to me. Since I’m the Prophet of Eros you must promise to obey and listen to my commands.”

Not even batting a glance at the already bloodied heretic writhing in pain within the sanctity. Icha suddenly placed his arms at the stone altar on either side of you. Leaving you pinned against his cloaked body. Now pressed into yours as he cornered you against the stone with no escape.

“The rules are easy enough to follow right? So let’s have our first crime of passion and send this traitor off together!”

The Cultleader’s voice trembled in pure elation, spinning you around so that he was snug against your behind. His palms steadily guiding your own to point the ornamental knife at the captured Heretic. Who was crying for forgiveness though it was muffled by the sac upon their head.

“Wait you seriously don’t actually mean to kill them right? Is this some kind of joke—“

Your hands were shaking completely at a loss for words. Were you truly going to go through with this initiation process which was basically first degree murder?

“This is just a minor step that has to be done in order for us to finally be bounded together.” Icha interjected, his almond eyes narrowing as he used his other hand to tilt your head back so he could peer down at you.

“You’ve been lonely right?” The Cultleader whispered into your ear, his soothing voice echoing in your mind. Almost as if he was trying to brainwash you like he did the rest. “Searching for someone to care for you, console you, love you. Isn’t that the reason why you came here in the first place?”

“That’s true, I did c-come here for that but I didn’t know I’d have to do this. This is wrong, it isn’t what I wanted—“ You said already having a near panic attack, seeing how the heretic was already missing their hands. The stumps were poorly wrapped.

“Lord Eros and I have been eyeing you for a long time. We’ve seen your attempts at trying to find love on your own. And look at where it’s gotten you, nowhere.” The Prophet hissed, a bit frustrated from your acts of denial. You flinched at his harsh tone recalling how it was just the plain truth of the matter.

Icha chilled himself, seeing that you too realized that obvious fact. after all he was the one to blame for your lackluster love life. Since a smug smile tugging on his lips from the memories of how he successfully hexed every potential suitor to suffer from scrutinizing symptoms the moment you entered their sights.

“But here is your golden chance to get that love you need and deserve! With lord Eros’s help we were finally reunited! To become one as preordained” Icha said in a matter a fact tone, he buried his face to your exposed neck taking in a deep whiff. Sighing in pure pleasure of finally having you in his grasp.

“I’m all yours, and you’re all mine. I can give you whatever you need. I’ll make sure you’re never left aching” The shaking in your body slowly quelled to a stop. Your brain registering his honeyed words, god you were so desperate to even consider this. Icha noticed you relaxing and merely smiled pressing chaste kisses down your neck savoring the taste of your flesh.

“Don’t you see? You’re already the reason for the life I breathe everyday. You’re my soulmate! We just need to make it official!”

You barely even knew this guy who was promising you eternal happiness. But you didn’t really care at this point you just wanted to be loved. You gripped the knife tightly tears welling up from your eyes as you came to a stop at the crumpled figure of the Heretic. Icha lovingly caressing you and talking you through your nerves like a lullaby.

“All you need to do is take the leap of faith with me... I’ll be with you no matter where you lead.”

In the center of the room lies Eros statue. Eyes glowing a faint light. An untraceable wisp of laughter filling Icha’s ears. As The corner of its lips quirked into an unnoticeable smirk of amusement.

[yanderenightmare-reblogs]

smells like natsuo

Softcore Yandere Boyfriend

Yandere! Boyfriend who knows exactly how messed up his thinking is and is trying very, very hard to not give into it. Yes, you would look so good tied up on his bed where you can never ever leave him but it's not a very ethical thing to do, y'know?

Yandere! Boyfriend who's built like an absolute tank of a man. Who has to be extra careful with his strength. He could pick you up and take you anywhere he wanted, but then he'd set a precedent and wouldn't be able to stop hauling you back into his bed.

Yandere! Boyfriend who needs constant reassurance. Who'll sit with his face propped between your legs and ask if you love him, again and again until he's satisfied.

You find it silly that this huge jock of a guy needs to be coddled so much. But Yandere! Boyfriend craves it. He needs reassurance or he might give in to all the toxic urges buried inside him.

Yandere! Boyfriend who spends every second in the gym thinking about your male classmates and all the random cashiers and waiters and drivers who get to lay their eyes on you, who probably go home and think filthy things about you. Yandere! Boyfriend who spends his time in the boxing ring imagining he's pounding all those guys to fucking tripe.

Yandere! Boyfriend who tries to keep his obsessive side happy, just so it doesn't become too demanding. Who allows himself little treats whenever he's had a hard day. Your used panties, a tracker on your car, a bugged teddy bear. Just so he doesn't go stir crazy with obsession.

Yandere! Boyfriend who'll never admit that he stalked you for weeks before introducing himself.

Yandere! Boyfriend who leaves lovebites all over your neck and thighs, even when you complain about how embarrassing it is to go out in public like that. He's marking his territory and he knows it, but he can't stop.

Yandere! Boyfriend who applies to all the schools you apply to, who takes all the same classes you do.

Yandere! Boyfriend who loves you so much that it frightens even him. Who'll kill you and then himself if you ever try to leave him.

Yandere! Boyfriend who really is the best boyfriend, who drives you to class everyday, who cooks for you, who pitches in and does your laundry. Just ignore that he locks the doors every time you get into his car, that he might sometimes crush a sleeping pill in your dinner just so he can spend more time with you, that he'll inspect all your clothes for traces of other men.

Yandere! Boyfriend who loves you very, very much. Who is trying and failing to be normal about it.

[yanoverload]

omegaverse 😳

cute omega dae-ho making a nest in your bed while you're away and he uses blood as a decoration to be cute.

omega dae-ho knowing you like strong independent omegas so he shows you how strong he is by killing buff alphas and giving them to you.

omega dae-ho almost getting caught at a crime scene because of his heat but you got to him first and now you're fucking him in the bathroom while making him be quiet

You walk into the nest and he made a blood heart on the wall. You can only sigh.

Imagine the scent he leaves in the letter is... something other than perfume.

Imagine he baits his victims using his scent, luring them somewhere.... for a surprise.

No one expects an omega to do such thing! They are supposed to be sweet, nurturing! And he uses that to his advantage.

Only you notice what he is capable of.