#mannequin content | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-masked-ram · 1 year ago

Text

Mannequin-Part Four

A/N: Please be aware, this is the climax of this story, it is a DARK CONTENT series. This chap has torture and non-con in it. DO NOT PROCEED WITH ANY OF THIS if this bothers you. There is an epilogue to come This is part of the Wheel of Mistfortune collab hosted by @cyancherub CW: dark content, not sfw, non-con, medical torture, knife play, gun play, drug use, amputation, body horror, horror, minor character death, serial killer, living dolls, stalking, gore, violence, ambiguous ending, abduction, corruption, nightmares, mind break, breath play, dacryphilia, obedience, fear play, fem reader

Part Four: Every time we touch your hands are colder, colder

You were distinctly aware of the warmth pressing against your side, a solid object that felt alive, the gentle sound of a heartbeat. You were even more aware of the fact that nothing sat beneath you, were you floating? Were you still asleep? You felt strangely cognitive for still dreaming.

Your eyes rolled beneath your lids, no, you were awake. It was strange, your eyelids fought strongly against being lifted, like they were weighted down. Your head lolled, chest heaved, but nothing else seemed to work. Finally, finally, your eyes fluttered opened, and you saw the white of Tsukishima’s shirt covered with an apron. Felt his strong arms cradle you as he carried you through a dimly lit room. “Hm, awake now?” he grunted, looking down at you with a quirked brow. “I’m glad, I definitely would prefer to see your face during this. Though, I’m not sure if you wouldn’t prefer to sleep through it.” The smile he gave you was cold, bone-chilling, and something unhinged glittered in the depths of his gaze. It was tiny, the spark of insanity, and you wondered if you really saw it. You wanted to ask what was going on, you tried, voice coming out in a muffled whine and throat constricting to form words, but your mouth didn’t work with you. His smile grew, and now you knew something was off for sure. That the fear twisting in your chest was right.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to talk soon enough, but for a few hours you’ll be mute. It’s easier that way,” he murmured. Your eyes widened and the first thing you did was try to move your arm, it responded for a second, the muscles twitching spastically but making no real movement. “Oh, yes. You also won’t be able to move,” Tsukishima said as if it was an after thought, pursing his lips as he looked at something just out of your eyesight. “Now how to do this.” Your muscles ached as you called to them over and over and tried to get them to do what you asked. However, you were nothing but a useless lump in his arms, mute, barely breathing, and unable to even twitch a finger. Your throat ached as it strained to scream in frustration, all you could do was scrunch your eyes closed and try to catch your breath.

“Don’t wear yourself out,” Tsukishima said as he placed you onto a flat surface. “I want to see the panic in your eyes when you realize what’s going to happen.” Your gaze flicked around as he manipulated you like a doll, rolling you onto your side, and pulling your shirt up the entire way, exposing the dip of your back. “Beautiful,” he whispered, as he maneuvered you onto your stomach. You felt his thumb rub over your skin, tracing your spine with loving reverence. “You know, I didn’t think I’d find my replacement so soon,” he said. “But then you found me, you sought me out, and I knew it had to be you. That you would be the best addition to my collection since I’d started. That maybe I could be a bit gentler with you since you wanted me to.”

His voice slowly went from awed to just a little manic, his words coming faster and his fingers tapping against your back excitedly. “The others never wanted me like you did. They didn’t pursue me and look at me with adoration, they didn’t fall into step when I told them to. You are perfect, but I still can’t let you run away,” he growled, his hands grabbing possessively onto the curve of your waist and gripping so hard you knew it should hurt. You could feel the amount of force he was applying, but no pain came, and for some reason that terrified you even more. Pressure but no awareness beyond that, what did that mean? What had he done to you? Your eyes flickered close for a moment, tears welling at your waterline and spilling down your cheeks.

Everything seemed slower, you could hear your heart and how it thumped erratically even though your breaths seemed shallow. Fear rushed through you, causing endless whirling questions. Questions that you didn’t want answered, but honestly probably already knew the end results. What did he want from you? What was he going to do? What had he done? Why had he done it? And though he had vaguely explained everything enough that you could piece it together with everything that had been happening lately, you couldn’t let yourself believe it. Perhaps this was just a really horrible, absolutely terrible, nightmare. A whimper fought against your constricting throat as more tears fell. “Shhh, don’t worry, I will take such good care of you,” Tsukishima whispered, and you felt him loom over you for a second, a light pressure on your back and the sound of his gentle excited breath close to where you lay. “We will be together until the end.” His hand appeared within sight before you heard the gentle clicking of buckles and a steady pressure slowly grew on your wrists, your shoulders, your legs, and your ribs. He clicked his tongue as he tightened it more and the restraints became tighter, more painful, until your bones creaked. “Just got to keep you still, if you move more damage will happen than planned,” he sighed, running his thumbs down the sides of your spine, counting under his breath.

You watched him reach off to the side again, coming back with a marker and the shine of something metal, something you couldn’t make out in the glare of the lights. Still, you shivered mentally, your body aching to move, to run, and more tears spilling over your face. You couldn’t see what he was doing as leaned over you, but you heard the pop of the cap coming off the marker, listened to him murmur again, numbers that made no sense to you. He stroked a finger slowly up the middle of your back, pausing at the base of your neck and pressing firmly. Tsukishima made an affirmative noise and the sound of the cap clicking back on again resounded painfully loud in your ears. Was it the fact you couldn’t move, couldn’t see because of that, couldn’t speak, couldn’t feel, that everything was dissolving into insanity around you; were those the reasons you now heard everything like it was an airhorn? You knew you would be trembling if your nerves could respond. You were terrified, but you also were aware pieces of you were slowly giving up, that you were slowly accepting your fate whatever it may be.

“Alright!” his voice brightened, and you blinked against the sudden volume change. “Let’s get started then. Don’t squirm, not that I expected you to, but well… just don’t.” Why? You desperately asked in your head, why? Why? Why!? Why shouldn’t you move? What was he going to do? Was he going to remove your legs? Would you feel anything? Would dismember you and paint you just like those women he left to rot? You wanted to stop your thoughts immediately, you had never meant to actually think those words. You should never have accepted the reality of what you knew was going to happen, what you knew you had been denying no matter how pathetic it had been. Once you gave those thoughts shape, you would be doomed to be aware, to know with every numbed second, every time you felt the pressure of his hands, that your life was limited.

--- Kei looked down at your untouched back, the only mark was the black line he’d placed across your neck. The spot he would cut and ruin you forever, ruin you for everyone else but make you even more perfect for him. He felt his breath sharpen and for a moment his hand shook on the scalpel he held. Excitement rushed through every vessel in his body, and he swallowed, forcing himself to calm down.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, mess this up. Especially because he couldn’t wait to make you limp in his arms and then slide into your perfect cunt. He remembered the wide look you’d given him before he’d flipped you over on the table, the moment you recognized something was terribly wrong in your normal little world. It had been striking, beautiful, he would remember that look until he died. His index finger slid along the back of the blade, preparing for the stabilization he needed. A smile quirked the edge of his lips, as his hand took position, and he pressed the sharp metal into your skin without hesitation. “Oh,” he breathed, it was gorgeous, watching the skin, the fascia, and muscle split, seeing the blood well. “I was right, you are the one.”

There was no response from you other than then a muffled squeak that didn’t make it past your lips. He suppressed a shiver, biting his lip as he carefully cut deeper, watching red fibers part under his deft movements. The silver glinted ethereally against the hellish color of red splotching it and Kai wondered if it was possible to fall even more in love with you. The slices were exact, definitive and perfected from years of practice. Slowly the white of bone and yellowish white of the disc appeared. That’s what he wanted, and he inhaled sharply, stopping his hand for a second as he realized he had been silent for a while. “Your spine is so beautiful. One of the best I’ve ever seen. It’s a pity I need to cut into it,” he whispered, and he knew if you could move, you would have fought back.

That’s why he needed to do this. He knew you were a fighter and he needed to give you and him time to fall even more in love until there was no desire to leave in your brain. Sadly, that meant destroying your ability to run, your ability to struggle against him. “Trust me, you won’t feel a thing,” he soothed, and with gentle shallow strokes he cut into the fibrous tissue, essentially ruining your ability to move. He wasn’t sure how long he was at the surgery, could he call it surgery? It felt like it was. It was important, and in his opinion, bettering you. He cut away just enough tissue to damage your motor skills while not killing you, then with deft movements he cleaned and sewed the muscle back together.

Antibiotics, bandages, aftercare, it was all a familiar part of his ritual. But he didn’t look at your face until he was done, until he made sure your paralytic medications were reintroduced. And when he saw you, truly saw you, he smiled. It was the strange little smirk he always did, lopsided and just a quirk of the lips, he saw the glimmer of hope and recognition in your eyes. “You know I think you would look best with a more natural tone for makeup,” he murmured, once again talking to himself and dashing all your hopes in one go. He brushed your cheek with a gentle thumb, a touch that worshipped you like you were the prettiest porcelain doll he had ever seen. And truly that’s all most people thought he saw. Most people thought the women he chose were just dolls in his eyes, and perhaps they were to an extent, at least when they weren’t perfect. He had always liked breaking his toys. But his favorites he took care of, he put them back together again when they fell apart, he cleaned them, he loved them. But you would also be so much more. So, so much more. You were a living breathing thing, a human that would be with him forever, never able to leave him, and once you accepted it, he would let you speak. He couldn’t wait to hold you. He picked you up gently, “But all that can wait. Right now, let’s just clean you up a bit, I’m sure you are exhausted.” The way he wrapped his arms around you made him incredibly aware of how small you were compared to him. How he could probably snap you in half if he wanted. Still, he cradled you against him like he was afraid you’d break. You looked up at him, with drooping lids and exhaustion pulling at your silent features. Completely unable to control your own body, it did as it wanted and was even more limp in his arms than before.

“Now, let’s get you set up in bed,” he said, just barely adjusting the stiff collar protecting your neck from further damage. He had never treated one of his collection so gently before, you were special. He could see it in your eyes. There was still some stupid inkling of hope in them as you stared at his side profile, and he walked you to your resting place. He carefully placed pillows behind you, settled you in, and covered you gently. He watched you with adoring eyes, seeing only perfection in your frozen features. He couldn’t wait for you to meet the others. Perhaps he’d wait for you to heal before he stuffed the one, you’d be replacing. You’d never be stuffed though; he’d never break you accidentally. “You’ll be safe here, I promise,” he whispered, leaning over you. Then he did something he’d been thinking about for weeks. He pressed a gentle kiss to your unresponsive lips. His eyes catching yours in the process and narrowing with pleasure at the way yours widened. The tip of his tongue lightly traced your lower lip and his teeth nibbled at it. “That doesn’t mean we won’t have fun though,” he groaned.

--- He was far more insane than you originally thought. Your breath caught painfully in your chest, he had reduced your medication some, but something was wrong. You still couldn’t move. You had passed out at some point the night or maybe day, he had cut you open. You awoke to being able to feel things again, specifically the sensation of his fingers trailing gently over your collarbones, plucking lazily at the buttons on your blouse. But then the pain came and the nauseating way your head seemed to be floating away from body. There was a persistent throb in your neck, so deep you were certain you shouldn’t be feeling it. You gasped, finally able to make a sound to express your discomfort. Your eyes fought to wrench open against the grit cementing them close, “H-hurts.”

You couldn’t think of anything beyond that, beyond the endless ache. You were sure it probably hurt more than you felt, you knew you should feel more pain. But you didn’t, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the medications, he was giving you or whatever he had done to you yesterday. “Don’t worry, the pain medications will kick in soon,” he soothed beside you, and there was a shift in the bed, and suddenly his hand wasn’t touching you, but a welcoming cool cloth brushed over your still lowered lids. “Why?” you asked. “Well got to take care of you, who else will? I can’t break my favorite toy,” he said calmly, like it was the most obvious answer.

When the cloth traveled lower you looked over at him, at the blonde hair and warm honey gaze you thought perhaps you could trust at one point. Was that Tsukishima all a lie? Or was he buried still beneath the psychosis? “There you go,” he murmured, and you realized he had unbuttoned your shirt and was slowly wiping your body clean. “You are so beautiful, my little doll.” Your eyes rolled down, staring at the way he watched the cloth roll over your pebbling nipples, the sensation dulled by the roaring ache in your body. Then much to your horror he leaned down to follow the cloth with his tongue, looking at you through hooded eyes. It was a sight that likely would have driven you mad with desire just a mere forty-eight hours earlier. To have such a gorgeous man Tsukishima Kei worshipping your breasts and staring at you like he could barely contain himself. But your innocent crush now had blood splashed all over it and instead of looking gorgeous and lustful you saw madness carefully encapsulated in the shimmer of his eyes.

His teeth scraped across your nipple, tugging it lightly and you hated the feeling, but you couldn’t look away from his magnetic stare. He was right though, the medications were working, and you could feel the pain ebbing away. So that all you could focus on was the sensation of his possessive touch on your hip, the way his free hand dragged the still damp cloth over your ribs. “Stop,” you whispered, your voice raspy and fragile. Your skin trembled in his touch, making you all the more aware of how detached you felt from your body. He smirked, a devilish curl of his lip against your soft flesh, as he dragged his tongue to follow the cool path of moisture left by the towel. Nuzzling his nose against the fat of your tits, he bit down against your other nipple and finally you responded, finally you felt a dulled spark of pleasure. It turned your stomach, but his eyes seemed to glow with satisfaction.

“Good, I think that’s enough for today, we have plenty of time and I really shouldn’t have pushed you at all when you are healing, but you should see how delicious you look,” Tsukishima said, as it that excused him, as if the fact you needed to heal at all was ok because it was his fault. You glared at him, but even that felt exhausting, how were you so tired after just waking up? What had he done to you? What was taking such a toll on you? You blinked at him blearily as he carefully buttoned up your shirt again and this sense of comfort overtook you knowing that you were at least covered. It nearly made you laugh because you couldn’t exactly stop him from stripping you in your sleep. But instead, you let sleep take you into it’s shadowy fingers again, falling asleep to the feeling of Tsukishima’s hand sifting through your hair.

---- He held the flat blade, trailing it down your legs with a look of utter rapture and contemplation all at once. He usually removed these the first night. But they looked so lovely on you, he desperately wanted you to keep them. He hummed thoughtfully. “What are you… doing?” you asked, he glanced up. “Debating, I’ve steered away from making you complete because… honestly, I already feel like you are complete,” he murmured, tipping the knife on its point to trace a light circle over the joint of your knee. You blinked in confusion for a moment, he could see you trying to puzzle things out and he waited to see that look of shock, which look he absolutely loved on your pretty features. Ah, there it was. The way your face morphed not in just shock but almost horror. Though you tried to control it, not like it wasn’t obvious how normal people felt about Kei’s needs and wants, he found it cute that you tried to hide it.

“I’ll stay, I won’t fight you,” you babbled, begged. He grinned, thin and like the blade poised in his hand, “You can’t fight me. It’s just… will cutting them off make you even better?” You trembled and your chin jerked as you tried to shake your head. His grin grew, growing more maniacal, “Don’t worry, like I said, you are already perfect. And it’s not like you can escape. You need me now, just like I need you.” He wanted to say he still saw the love and adoration in your eyes. There was a part of him that craved that as much as he craved the fear he saw in your weak trembling limbs. But he didn’t see it, not a spark, though the pity he saw, he knew he could manipulate it. He’d done so before. Kei knew you still had hope that somehow this would turn out for the better. That somehow, he would turn out to be the good man you had originally thought he was. When did you turn into such an optimist?

He moved up your body, taking care to drag the flat of the blade along the center of your torso, all the way up to your quivering throat until he moved your chin higher with it, forcing your pain clouded eyes to meet his. He studied your expression, tilting his head like a curious predator. “You need more meds,” he murmured. You shook your head in a desperate jerking motion, hoping to deter him. But he could see the agony starting to grow in your countenance. “Don’t argue,” he rolled his eyes. “You won’t want to be without it.” He injected the IV attached to your arm with the medication and soon your eyelids were fluttering. If Kei was honest with himself, he could barely wait, the only thing stopping him was the fact that you needed to heal lest he kill you and break his favorite doll he had ever found before the fun even got a chance to start.

He pressed his lips as he watched you slip farther into sleep, seeing the rise and fall of your chest, his greedy eyes tracing your body. He brushed his finger along the blade in his hand with impatience slowly bubbling in his chest. He needed something to take the edge off. He wandered away in hopes that one of the others could satisfy his urges. --- This was how the last few days, or maybe weeks went, in a drug induced haze where you drifted in and out of sleep, and Tsukishima spent time caring for you. There was a part of you that had begun to crave his touch, his company, it kept your mind from spinning into the dark pit of despair just waiting to engulf you. There wasn’t much to do now except think too much about everything, especially since you’d gotten better and now realized you were paralyzed for the most part.

One arm could move though it was flimsy and not well coordinated, you could talk, move your head now, but you were still completely reliant on Tsukishima. The thought you would need the man who had caused this to care for you for the rest of your life, made you cry regularly. You weren’t sure why he kept you alive, but he had become much more affectionate with you. Even if you were spitting out vitriol or begging for freedom. His hands wandered when he wiped you down, cupping your breasts, your thighs, putting just enough pressure that you could feel it to through the tingling numbness now overtaking your body. Nothing was sacred, he had seen everything, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he crossed that line. “I think it’s time you finally get your face made up,” Tsukishima said one day. Your drugs had been tapering off, you seemed to get them less often or maybe it was less of a dose because you were finding yourself more coherent.

“What do you mean?” you asked, did this mean you were going to be killed? You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but was this really living? “Make up, got to keep my doll pristine now that she is ready to join the others,” he said with a twisted smile. Others? Were there others that were still alive like you? He sat beside you, and to be honest the tickle of the brush, the thick application of stain and gloss was oddly wonderful. It felt soothing to have him stroke over your face, pamper you for a totally unnecessary reason, and for a moment you could forget this man so carefully dolling you had held you captive. You could forget that he had paralyzed you.

It didn’t last long though, because soon that maniacal glint was back in his eye as he dragged his thumb along the bottom line of your lip, cleaning up some gloss. The smile he sent you was too wide, too excited, and it crashed upon you with a panic inducing sharpness. This was your life now, either that or it was death, but you couldn’t even choose that for yourself. “Now. Now is the time,” he whispered, voice husky, needy as he stared down at you with quickly growing pupils. Small parts of you shivered under his touch as he finally began to look at you as more than just an object, he finally looked at you as something to defile. His fingers were dizzying as they made their way across your skin and over your clothes, undoing buttons one by one. His eyes were darkening slowly as they swept across new skin that he’d seen before but never in this sort of situation.

He worked you free of your shirt methodically, brushing his long fingers over your flesh as if he were anointing it, and you wondered if you could really feel it or if it was because you were seeing it that your mind was playing tricks on you. He leaned down to lick a freed nipple and scrape his teeth across it. There, you could definitely feel that. The little spark of pleasure caused by his teeth that caused your stomach to squirm in revulsion. “Ah, you like a little pain,” Tsukishima grinned, and you wanted to scream that you didn’t, that you just couldn’t feel it otherwise. But he was pinching his nails tightly around your other nipple, causing the parts of your body that would respond to jerk violently. A salacious moan dripped from your throat, only growing in volume as he left a bite on the soft skin of your breast. You were horrified, tears pricked your eyes painfully, you hated that he could make you feel good. You bit back another groan in hopes of making him frustrated, but your dreams were dashed, and he laughed instead.

“That’s right, make me work for it,” he hissed. Was this still Tsukishima? His persona, the person you had felt yourself falling for was so different than this pure insanity that lay behind the mask. He sank his teeth into your side, sucking lustfully at the skin until you were certain it would break it, he pulled away with blood staining his teeth. But the mark was small, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what he had caused with his scalpel. He leaned in and whispered, “Taste yourself.” Then he kissed you. Tsukishima had done a lot of things, but he’d never kissed you on the lips this deeply until now. The kiss was sickly sweet, but easily addictive. It was with this action you forgot you hated this man, you forgot who or what he was. The coppery tang of blood didn’t matter, and your mind was drifting in ecstasy.

His tongue slid over your lip, and you welcomed it as it burned across your own. So warm and wet and sinful, it pressed and pushed until you were moaning, and his fingers were working on your zipper. He kissed you like a lover, with a tongue rolling across yours and consuming you so completely it was only natural to give in. You wanted him and your hand twitched with the need to wrap around him. “Such a good little doll,” he murmured as he pulled back just far enough that his breath still brushed your lips. You looked up at him through a lustful haze only for it to be broken as he dragged your pants down your lifeless legs. Desire changed to fear within a second, you didn’t want this. But you knew whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter, he would give it to you. He would take it from you.

He hovered over you as you panicked, and you could see the calculating glee in his maddened eyes as his fingers lingered on the edge of your panties. They danced along the delicate lace he placed upon your body just moments before. “Tuskishima,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak as your throat trembled with terror. “Don’t.” “Don’t?” he mocked. “You wouldn’t be telling me what to do? Or are you begging for your purity, something I know you don’t have.”

You just wanted to move, you just wanted to run. You desperately, frantically, focused on trying to move your legs, but they didn’t respond. He slipped his fingers past the last barrier to where your body betrayed you. You could feel him glide through the slick glistening on your pussy and you nearly cried, instead you bit down on your lip, refusing to let him get such a reaction. He watched you through honeyed eyes as you fought against yourself. His fingers traced your clit, which you were distinctly aware you could barely feel. Then they traveled lower to where your walls stayed slack. “Can already fit two fingers in you,” he said. “So sloppy already.” He pushed in and you felt pressure but nothing else, no pain, no pleasure. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it just was completely against what you wanted. Tears pricked your eyes, and you shook your head slowly.

“Please, stop,” your voice was trembling and finally the tears spilled over, and you could feel the heat of them drip down your cheeks.

As he plowed through your sloppy cunt he kissed his way up your body, slow and lazy. There was something in the way Kei kissed, even when his insanity had a strong hold, there was something sweet about it, gentle. They often tickled, so light you could barely feel until his teeth nipped at your skin and then you arced your neck. A groan would follow but still it was like there were two of him warring for control. The one violating your folds, and the one kissing your limp body like it was an altar.

His thumb dragged over your lower lip as he jabbed at a spot inside your cunt that finally sent off a dull sensation. But to you after not feeling anything it was like lightning. Violent pleasure racked your frame, and he chuckled above you before he replaced his thumb with his mouth.

His tongue swept over yours, rolling against the roof of your mouth. It was a toxic kiss, drowning you in pleasure as his fingers slammed against that spot inside you again and again. You couldn’t breathe easily. It was hard to think with him scooping out everything you were, who you used to be, and rearranging it so easily. You couldn’t even fight against him; you didn’t want to. It felt good. It was the first sensation that felt purely good in weeks, or was it months, you couldn’t tell.

You could feel parts of your brain lighting up. Parts that had been darkened for so long. It sparked like a violent fork of lightening across your neuro pathways, and it was so similar to an orgasm. Except so full and emotional, like every stress and fear you’d felt shattered away. You broke away from Kei’s all-consuming kiss so you could gasp in air. Your eyelids fluttered and your chest heaved in a staccato rhythm.

When the world stopped shaking and tumbling around you everything came back into focus and Kei was the first thing you saw. His face looked intrigued, maliciously pleased, but you realized he’d pulled free from your cunt, licking drops of your slick from his fingers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone orgasm after the surgery,” he whispered, his voice nearly trembling with excitement. “I knew it. I always knew you were the one. Now it’s been confirmed.”

You shook your head, your brain fogged and confused, “The one for what?”

“People always leave me, and my dolls they always die eventually. But you are strong, you can’t leave now, and you’ve survived everything with far better outcomes than anyone else. It was always a learning process. I never graduated from medical school. Working in the morgue was my fall back. Turned out to be the perfect cover story,” Kei said, his voice had turned soft now, contemplative as he began to clean up.

You were grateful that it seemed he was done for the day. But as per usual you read the situation wrong, entirely wrong. Slowly Kei pulled out a beautifully shining revolver. Something old, something heavy, something he took care of. Your jaw tensed as he rolled the bullet chamber and you listened to each section click into place until it finally slowed to a stop.

“Did you know, if you add fear to sex that the orgasm is often stronger?” Kei said, and once again his voice was calm, pensive.

It was as if he wasn’t talking about pointing a gun at you while fucking into your disabled body. It was as if he wasn’t threatening to accidentally pull the trigger and possibly kill you. He’d already maimed you it couldn’t get much worse, right? Yet still you wanted to live, that innate desire to survive filled you. You watched him with wide eyes as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

He revealed beautifully pale skin, a lanky and lightly muscled body. It was something you would normally want; it was something you would normally beg to touch. But every ounce of romance had been stripped away, hadn’t it? Still, you felt your heart speed up and you were certain that it wasn’t from fear. There was an anxious desire in your heart, a need to make him happy.

You weren’t sure when that had started to happen. You were certain it was a thing before he had abducted you. Yet you couldn’t be sure. That life, when you went to work everyday, drank coffee, ate foods, and god forbid were able to walk, seemed like so long ago. Was this even your life anymore, weren’t you someone else now?

So, didn’t it make sense that you found yourself caught up in his web, letting him lead you down every path? You followed Kei willingly now, so quickly, after he showed you just a little bit of pleasure. He called you special, he wouldn’t hurt you. So, when he put the gun to your temple after he was naked and your eyes were flicking in mild terror from his face to his long cock, you knew you wouldn’t even try to talk your way out of this.

Instead, you tilted your chin, leaning into the cool metal as it trailed down your cheek and pressed into the bottom of your jaw. You felt the exit of where the bullet would come out bite deep into your flesh when Kei slid inside your body, sighing as if your cunt was made for him. As if he was coming home after days of being away.

He leaned over you, his body bowing as he watched with eager eyes while he tracked the silver barrel of a gun dragging over your skin. Slowly it stopped right above your ribcage, where your heart beat somewhere in your chest. You swallowed and you were certain it was thumping from the way you could feel the blood pound in your neck.

You both looked at the way your breast dimpled each time he fucked up into you and it pressed against the muzzle. You shivered; you knew it would be so easy for him to lose his grip. There was no safety, you both could get hurt. You could die! But neither of you tried to stop it, you didn’t argue with him, and Kei in fact began to move faster.

“You look so scared,” he hissed, and he was right, you could feel how big your eyes were.

“You’re scared but not one little worry passed those lips, not one scream for me to stop. In fact, you’re so sloppy wet it’s almost disgusting,” he smiled widely, all sharp and predatory that it almost reminded you of a dog baring its teeth, “almost.”

He made sure you knew he was enjoying it, “You’re such a good fuck doll. Made so perfect for me. I made you like this.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you responded, and you hated it. Your body tightened around him; your breath became shallow as you whined every time you were blessed with a moment of dull, pleasurable sensation. He grunted above you with pure ecstasy. But never once did his hand waver, and never once did his gaze move from either your face or the metal pressed against your chest.

His other hand pressed one of your limp legs down against your chest and right as things began to feel better, the dull throb began to become noticeable all the time, Kei pulled the hammer back on the revolver. You heard the subtle click and your heart jumped. Your breathing turned into desperate gasps. Your wide eyes stared as the gun rocked with each of his motions and his finger grew taught on the trigger each time he pulled back.

Your gaze flicked to his face, and he smiled at you, staring at your features now, the terror that stained them. You trembled even as you felt your walls attempt to flutter.

“That’s it,” he hissed. “Cum for me.”

You did, and then through narrowed eyes you saw him cum. You saw the rapture on his face. You saw the way his lips parted slightly and heard the soft groan that left his lips. You also saw his finger squeeze. You heard the hammer click down. The last thing you saw as darkness overtook your mind, was Kei’s satiated face.

#mannequin #haikyuu!!#fanfic #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #fem reader #dark content #please read cw

5 notes · View notes