#pippywrites

[pip-n-chips]

You can't take it anymore. Sweaty hands grip desperately at their clothing, tugging at it until you pull them into a kiss.

"Haah- Your treatment has been doing very well, then."

You're straddling Harper's lap, patient gown riding up as they pull you deeper into the kiss, returning it with just as much eagerness. They let you do most of the leading, but can't help but to reach down and caress your waist, and then your hips. Hot breath fogs up their glasses, and they murmur praises in between pants when you pull away to breathe. They're going to need a new set of trousers.

"Insatiable slut."

It's almost crashing into them, really. But Whitney grips your shirt in return and pushes back into you, forcing their tongue between your already parted lips, breathing heavily through their nose. They chew on your lip, and you think you taste blood as a result, but you don't care. You only part for a gasp of air, only to hungrily dive in for more. A string of spit connects both of your bruised lips when you're done, until they lick their lips clean with a smirk.

"O- Oh, darling-"

Kylar might as well have been the one to initiate, with the way they're clinging onto you the moment you pull them in. They don't breath through their nose but through their mouth, breathing in the same air as you until they can't anymore, and you think they hold their breath at some points to keep up with the kiss. They moan into your mouth as they swirl their tongue around, drool spilling out onto your lips, and when the kiss is over they lap it up eagerly. It turns into another kiss quite quickly.

[pip-n-chips]

you're not sure why you keep coming back.

the blood moon hangs in the sky, always there, always watching. rain falls from the heavens towards the vast lake below, its all red. you think that maybe it's bleeding, the moon. (you wonder how much of the blood belongs to IT)

but you do.

they all tell you to stay away.

shallow breaths, light footsteps. tendrils pale as ivory pulling you in. you're dizzy, you can't think, you can't stop looking into it's eyes. it holds the lake in them, you get sucked in.

but you don't.

and so, you find yourself here, again. feet bare against the sand of the lake's shore. your pajamas drag behind you as you wade into the water. it's cold, but you don't stop, not until something pulls you in, and you find yourself staring again into those sapphire blue eyes. the edges crinkle.

You've returned.

pale tendrils wrap around your body, pulling you closer.

I've missed you.

[pip-n-chips]

The morning you became an angel, you were a complete mess.

(You thought it was supposed to bring calmness, supposed to wash you clean. It's supposed to be good, right? But you didn't feel any of that. You felt wrong.)

You didn't know what to do, what to think, so you went to Jordan. (You're not sure what for, maybe it was due to their expertise, or how you feel around them, but you needed something and they could provide an answer. You hoped.)

You had entered the temple, distraught, covered in way too many layers for a warm spring's day (you had to hide your wings, you didn't want to look at them, you couldn't bear it). They turned their head in acknowledgment as you approached, ready to greet the same way they always do, but stopped upon seeing your expression. Your trembling hands were taken in theirs as they led you to a secluded spot, and lowered the two of you upon some cushions. They looked at you and waited, and you knew it was an opening.

So you broke down.

And they listened, patiently, as you babbled and blubbered about how you weren't worthy, how you were never going to be worthy. You weren't sure why this happened to you. If you were chosen, if it was by mistake.

Mistake...

The word was repeated, over and over, until you couldn't speak it anymore. Until your voice was left hoarse, and your hands left sore from the grip you had on Jordan's robes (you're not sure when you started clinging onto them), but they didn't mind. So you continued, and they allowed you.

The next moments passed without any words spoken, and you two sat there.

You, with your face buried in their robes, dampened from your tears. They smelt like incense, like flowers and herbs. It was a scent you grew accustomed to, as the temple used it often, but Jordan's was more distinct. One you haven't much smelled before, but it helped ground you.

And Jordan, stroking your hair, humming a tune (one you were sure you've heard before). Though you were more hanging off of them than leaning against, you still felt a slight vibration coming from their chest as they did so, and a wave of fatigue washed over you as you continued to listen to the soothing melody.

So you let yourself rest, for the first time in a while.

[pip-n-chips]

This line right here has had a choke hold on me for the last five minutes, sir, on god?

hnnnnfggshshjsk SIR

quick content warnings: pregnancy talk (PC used to be pregnant), Harper being a right fucking creep, kidnapping kinda??

If I remember correctly, IRL, there's a certain amount of time that has to pass before it's safe to have sex again after giving birth (seems like it ranges from 2 to 6 weeks), and Harper would be mindful of that before doing anything to you. (He doesn't want to damage to your pretty little hole!)

But here's the issue- Harper wants to be the FIRST one to fuck you postpartum. He's been thinking about knocking you up with your next kid ever since you got pregnant with the first one, and there's no way in hell he's going to let someone else get that chance before him. He's earned it, he thinks. He's been so helpful throughout your pregnancy; he's been there every step of the way. He deserves it, he knows. You owe him that.

His solution is to keep you somewhere safe, somewhere monitored, where he KNOWS you're safe. Maybe it's a private room in the hospital, locked behind a keycard swipe. You'll be allowed visitors, at first. He's not some monster; if your loved ones want to come see you, they may. But he doesn't like the way some of them look at you, and he hates the way you look at them back. So the visitor hours grow shorter and shorter, effectively cutting people off. (He's also very particular on which nurses come to treat you. This hospital is full of dangerous people, and, unfortunately, he doesn't have the authority to fire whoever he pleases.)

If people ask, he mentions something about irregular results. Uses a lot of buzzwords, says it's not safe for outside germs to come near you. That they need to be extra careful around you, so it's best to leave you be. To rest.

This moves onto the next part, he needs to keep you in his grasp long enough for it to be safe to fuck you again, to breed you again. (And yes, Harper could get you pregnant in other ways- he could insert his sperm via tube/syringe like he's done to many test subjects before, but his cock disagrees. He needs to feel himself inside of you. He's waited long enough. He can wait a little more, the prize'll be worth it.) He uses similar excuses explanations as to why he needs to keep you with him at the hospital longer. He needs to monitor your levels, your progress.

"Something seems wrong," he'd say, "best to keep you longer, for your health."

It's easier to handle when other people come to him for answers, looking to call him out on his bullshit. They have no power here, he doesn't even have to talk to them, if he really didn't want to. (But he's no coward, he can stand tall with a smile that'll make others shy away.) All it takes is a little manipulation to get them to turn around. He's the expert here. He knows what's best for you, not them. If they refuse, well, it's bad to cause a ruckus in a healing environment, yeah? They'll be kindly escorted out.

It's harder when it comes to you, though. It's not like he wasn't expecting it- he's prepared- but it's still disappointing when you start getting restless. You want to leave, he gets that. You want to go home, to be with your kid. And he understands that. But you can't go yet. Not yet. Not until he gets what he wants. Not until you're ready. But, unfortunately for him, your patience runs out before the timer does, and you're,,, less than happy. And he didn't want to do this (he did, he was just waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect excuse), but your behavior starts to get so erratic and upsetting, so he throws you in the asylum. (Poor thing. So distraught, you're a danger to yourself. He had to step in.) Somewhere even more isolated safe, and he keeps you there for as long as he needs.

When the time comes, after one of your examinations, Harper is shaking from restrained excitement. He almost forgets to hypnotize you, drug you, whatever- he's just so eager to be inside you and pump you full of his seed.

And when he does get to... oh boy, it's heavenly. The wait was worth it.

[pip-n-chips]

Harper loves the sensitive ones. The ones that twitch and squirm at the slighest brush of fingers against skin.

They love to see how your perfect body reacts to their touch. They enjoy hearing the hitch of breath, the involuntary twitch when their fingers ghost across your skin, the goosebumps, the raised hair. Harper takes their time to explore every inch of you, soaking it in, memorizing the feel of you. And you ignore any alarms blaring in your head because this is just their job. They have to be thorough, and, boy, are they. They leave no part untouched, no section unexplored.

And it's cute. It's cute how you try so hard to fight it, to not show a reaction, because that's embarrassing, right? To act such a way in front of your doctor. But it's only natural, there's nothing to be ashamed of! It's encouraged, even. (Oh, how Harper would love to hear you moan, to hear you gasp and beg for your dear doctor to touch you more. To see you squirm and lean into their touch. Oh, how they'd love to see that, more than anything. It's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of!) Also, your eyes are always shut so tight, as if not seeing will help you detach and become unaware. And to an extent, you are. You're unaware of how Harper leers at you, how their mind races with all the things they'd love to do to you, how their groin aches in their pants at the sight and sound and feel of you.

[pip-n-chips]

Something about fighting your damn hardest but being the only one to come out battered and bruised...

Pounding against Eden's chest as he has his way with you, desperately hoping that it if you do it enough times he'll give up, but he never does.

Scratching at his arms, chest, anything. Hoping to draw blood, but your nails never penetrate his thick hunting coat.

Eden pinning you down from behind, one hand on your neck and the other pinning down your arms. And it's hard to breathe and your arms are bruising but you still fight fight fight until you can't anymore.

Him only letting you go after he cums inside your hole and turning over to sleep soon after, satisfied. While you lay there in too much pain to move, defeated.

(But that won't stop you from struggling next time. Or the next.)

[pip-n-chips]

How about being Harper's favourite fucking menace though? Fighting everything he does tooth and nail, in a straightjacket every night, getting other patients to distract the orderlies so you can beat his ass... No matter what he does, it doesn't break down your spirit. It's infuriating, he just can't get his hands on you. he might have to use more... sinister methods...

YES YES AND YES!! also this didn't go in the direction I planned it to go, but here's something for you regardless

Harper absentmindedly drums his fingers against the wooden desk as he looks through patient files, the room filled with silence aside from the occasional clicking of his computer mouse. His fingers halt upon reaching your name.

Harper considers himself a patient man, and in his line of work it's absolutely crucial to be. But even the best of men lose their patience, and his is running very, very thin.

His eye twitches.

The reason?

You.

(continued under the cut)

You you you, of course it's you. He's dealt with patients in the past who didn't, ah,, favor his methods, but he's never met anyone quite like you before.

You're always resisting, always fighting. You just don't know when to quit, to give in, and it drives him mad. If you were anyone else, he would have accepted the loss and sent you over to Remy's, made you their problem, but no.

He couldn't. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't.

Because something about you draws him in; he wants to study you, get inside your head. He wants to fix you. He's not meant to be the bad guy in your story, why can't you see it? He can help you, he can make you feel all better, but you can't fucking see it yet.

Harper leans back in his chair and takes off his glasses to drag a hand over his face, frustrated. His attention shifts to the familiar tightness in his pants, and he glances down at his crotch.

He can't deny the effect you have on him, however.

Every snarky comment, every demand. Every kick and every scream. Everytime you shake yourself out of the trance he put you in, everytime you deny deny deny...

Oh,

you sweet little thing.

You must think it's wearing him down, bit by bit, but you'd be such a fool to think so. All it does is make him want you more and more and more. He can't lie and say a part of him doesn't like how you've been fighting him, because you give him a challenge. You give him a kind of thrill he's never felt before.

God, you're such a tease.

He wants to tame the untameable, cure the incurable. You are the mouse to his cat, and he wants to chase you down and show you what he can really do. And once he has you in his grip, he's never, ever going to let you go.

The tightness is almost unbearable now. Harper's belt clinks as he hastily removes it and unzips his fly. His cock is soon in his hand, the tip already dribbling with precum. He shakily lets out the breath he's been holding onto as he starts to stroke.

How do you tame a mouse? Do you give it cheese? What would be your cheese? Do you trap it? Maybe he should toss you into the quiet room again- but ah. Last time he left you there for too long, he saw you back in town after a while of searching here. He still hasn't figured out how you managed to get past security. Or the cameras. What a sneaky little bastard, you are.

He loves it.

Maybe he should throw you in a rigged maze, one you can never solve. One you can never escape. It'd wear you down until you come to him begging. But would you even ask for help? Maybe he could deprive you of everything except the basic necessities until you're forced accept his help, it'd teach you to be humble. You fight so much to maintain your broken yet incredible mind, so he couldn't imagine you giving up completely.

His breath quickens as he lets his thoughts run wild, the room filling up with his desperate grunts and the slick sound of skin rubbing against skin as he gets more and more aroused.

That could work, and he has a separate property in mind to keep you. Well- technically Remy owns it, but it's been unused for a while, and he's sure he could pull some strings to make it work. He's going to make sure he's all you see, all you feel. You'll be so starved for any type of interaction, you'll practically be begging for his cock inside you- any hole of his choosing. He'll drug and tie you up so you can't fight anymore, and you'll finally see just how much he can help you. How much you need him, and how much he needs-

Harper suddenly convulses, thick ropes of semen spurting from his cock, splattering on his desk. He sinks into his chair, panting, waiting for his mind to clear.

Only you could get him so hot and bothered like this. Only you can give him this kind of reaction. You must be doing this on purpose, this must be your plan. To rile him up, to tempt him. The way you fight, the way you look at him... You're asking for it, surely- It's all a cry for attention. You're playing games with him, hoping you'll lose. You just don't want to admit it, because if you did, you'd have to face the truth. And you and him both know that you prefer your little lies.

How could someone so strong be so cowardly?

Harper reaches into a drawer for wipes and begins to clean up the mess resulting from,, his activities. He thought he got all of it, but upon looking up he sees some managed to land on the computer screen, right on the image of your face.

Would you look at that...

A low chuckle escapes past his lips as he leans forward. His breath his hot against his face as he caresses your image and wipes it clean with his thumb. He wonders what it would be like, cumming on you like this. (You'd hate it with a burning passion, but he'll teach you to love it. Just like how he'll teach you to love him.)

He's itching to find out, but he can wait.

It won't be too long now, anyway.

(Not long at all...)

If you want to keep playing your little games of fighting and denying and teasing and pretending- then that's fine!

He'll play too.

It'll just make his prize upon winning that much sweeter.

[pip-n-chips]

content warnings: some violence, concussion, drugging

(continued under the cut)

What if Harper had a hidden rage stat? (Maybe something like impatience.)

It gets higher and higher every time you shake yourself from their hypnosis, resist their treatment, fight back, etc etc. And it gets to a point where they can't take it anymore, they need control over you and they need it now.

It all comes to head during one of your daily asylum sessions, and you find yourself alone with them in their office. Maybe you're a bit nervous, because it feels that Harper has a different air to them, but when you examine their face, their voice, their body language, nothing seems amiss.

There's no chairs, and they ask for you to take a seat. You know what they want, you've done this before, but you still want to be difficult. So you sit on the desk. They ask you again, and you swear you see their eye twitch, hear a shift in their tone, but it's so subtle that you're not sure if it's real or if you just imagined it.

But it's making you uneasy, so you comply. And they wrap their arm around your waist, as usual, but their hold feels tighter than normal.

To your surprise, they don't ask you to kiss them this time. Instead, they ask you stuff like: how come you've been so difficult? Don't you know that they're only trying to help you? You make their job so much harder- and for what? Do you get some sick satisfaction, seeing them fail?

Their hold tightens the longer they ramble on, and it starts to hurt.

You plead for them to calm down, you say that they're hurting you, and for a second you think Harper had ignored you until they tighten their grip even more in response, pulling you closer to them in the process. You try to look away, but they cup your jaw with their free hand and force you to look them in the eye. They tell you that you're only hurting yourself, denying their treatment. You're doing nothing to help yourself. It's like you don't want to get better, why's that?

They pause, squinting at you in thought. And then, a wide grin forms on their face. It's... unsettling.

And they chuckle. (It's not pleasant.)

And when they speak again, their tone shifts,,, to something giddy? Obsessive? You don't really know how to describe it, but it scares you.

They go on to ramble that maybe you're doing this on purpose, refusing to get better so you can stay here longer, stay with them longer. You try to shake your head, argue, anything, and Harper lets go of your jaw and presses a cold finger to your lips, making hushed noises.

You see an opportunity and take it.

So you bite. Hard. And you taste a hint of blood.

Harper yelps before shoving you off of them, the tiled floor waiting for you, and you must've landed a bit too hard a bit too fast, because your head is swimming and fuzzy and you swear you're seeing stars, and Harper is on top of you in what feels like a instant.

And they're yelling now, but not out of worry, no. They're angry. And their tight grip is back, but this time their fingernails are digging into your arms and ow OW OW it stings, yet it feels numb at the same time. You don't know what they're saying, but you're too out of it to care.

Something changes in Harper's tone a few minutes in (?) (was it minutes? it felt like hours) though, to something more gentle, more apologetic, but it doesn't feel soothing to you, because it's not genuine. It can't be. It's not real. (Was it ever real?) And they get up off of you. And you wish and you wish and you wish you had the strength to get up, but your head really hurts and your arms are so wobbly you can barely lift yourself up, so you can do nothing but helplessly watch as they rummage through their desk and cabinets. Harper eventually finds what they were looking for, and you do not like the humming that follows.

They approach you again and you're trying to focus long enough to see what they're holding, but your head still hurts and the lights are too bright (and god, when did they get so fucking bright-) so you're forced to close your eyes and you grit your teeth in anticipation. Harper coos and says something you can barely make out, but you think it was something along the lines of "Everything will be okay", but you don't understand how it will be if they're here. When you try to voice this, your speech is too slurred to be understandable, completely at least. You feel a hand gently pet your head.

Your attention is quickly shifted as they hold down your arm and jab you with something sharp, and a pit of dread forms in your stomach. You've gone through this enough times to know that they've drugged you, and you think that shit shit shit, what's going to happen, what are they going to do-

But you can barely even panic properly anymore, because you're feeling all sorts of wrong Wrong WRONG and your vision is fading fast, and the last thing you feel is Harper's hands on you before everything goes black.

[pip-n-chips]

thinking about lying in bed with Avery at a hotel room, late at night. you guys had fucked earlier, and now you're relaxing before bed. your eyes look up at their face before drifting down to watch Avery's chest rise and fall, rise and fall...

you blink quickly in an effort to stay awake, but as you cuddle closer to their side, you realize the battle is not easily won. the sheets are soft and fluffy, you bunch some up in your grip and bring it to your nose, enjoying the flowery scent of the detergent. you haven't gotten to smell it properly earlier, not when you were face down in the sheets moaning out your lover's name. it was a custom request to have it scented like that. Avery thought it matched well with the brilliant bouquet of flowers they had gifted you earlier. you smiled at the memory, it was sweet.

its quiet between the two of you, but a comfortable silence. the hotel's tv plays old reruns of some old reality show, one you've never heard of before, but Avery seems to enjoy it, every so often chuckling at the dialogue.

you cling tighter to their arm. you wish it could be like this all of the time. no fancy dinners, no fancy parties, just you and them. because it's nice, really nice! but you know well it can't be like that, not with Avery's work schedule and social responsibilities. but maybe one day you can have this, every night. not in a hotel, but Avery's house. your future home, you hope. it won't be today, nor tomorrow, nor this month or the next. but one day, you hope. but, for now, you'll enjoy what you can have in the moment, you decide. you bury your face in their arm, content.

[pip-n-chips]

do you think Harper would let me ride him if i were good??

✨🌙

Ah, but of course!!

Harper would be ecstatic. The fact that you even want to is great progress in your treatment! However, he's not just going to hand you what you want on a silver platter (as much as the erection straining against his pants begs otherwise).

He wants to hear you ask for it. Explicitly. Tell him what you want to do, how you'll do it. Tell him how you think it'll feel, having his cock in you, how you'll feel. If you haven't been as good as you say you are, he'll make sure to drag it on, just to see you get more and more desperate (you're so cute when you're like that). And he'll smile patiently at your blushing face, listening to you stammer out your request, acting as if he isn't equally as flushed.

But he's not cruel, he can't be, not when you're looking at him with those pleading eyes.

So, when he decides that you finally said all the right things? He's practically pulling you onto his lap, regardless if you were already ready to scramble onto it or not. And only a moment passes before his cock is resting at your entrance, lubed up with precum.

Praises leave his lips when you envelope him, and wandering hands hike up your clothing to rest at your hips as you begin to rock against each other. He lets you do most of the work, since you were so eager to ride him in the first place, and you still are. You bounce on his cock with vigor, your hole sucking him in greedily. (And in that moment, he feels so so proud. You've come so far in your treatment. He's done well, helping bring out the slut in you- The real you.)

Harper keeps his eyes focused on you the whole time, examining your expressions, your reactions. And, ah- The sight of your pretty little face, mouth parted to let out those pretty little noises of yours is art to his eyes and music to his ears. (He only wishes he had a video camera on him to capture it all. But he knows there will be plenty of opportunities in the future. You'll stay good, won't you?).

He can't help but pull you into a kiss in the middle of it; It's hard to not, especially when your perfect lips are right there for the taking. The kiss is wet, sloppy, and hungry. The kind where you only stop to gasp for air, only to go right back in. And the way you taste, the way you moan into his mouth... oh, it almost makes him cum immediately.

By the time both of you finish, you're sweating and out of breath. He helps you off, but doesn't clean you up. "Don't you want all of the other patients to know how good you've been?" He asks. "Don't you want to keep your prize?"

And you nod eagerly, because it's something to hold with pride. He smiles and sends you off.

[pip-n-chips]

hmm quick content warnings: gn!Charlie is a pervert, rationalization of molestation + groping (<- and talks of the actual thing), I think thats all?

Charlie isn't a rapist. God, no. But, sometimes they like to... indulge. Just a bit.

It's hard not to- Not with the way you look at them with such admiration, with your pretty eyes and meek smile. Not with the way you move oh so gracefully (you're not perfect yet, no. You've much to improve, but they catch themself staring more and more often regardless, taking in the sight of you. A part of them hopes you never improve, just so they can keep seeing you, keep being around you). And certainly not with the way you look in that leotard.

So they sneak in touches, little ones. It's hardly anything, really.

Hands that linger on your waist a bit too long during routines. Fingers that drag along your skin as they help adjust your form. Their touches are anxious and careful, but it's all so subtle, enough to have you question if it's on purpose or by accident. (And if you ever bring it up, the answer will always be the latter).

Sometimes they allow themself to go further; breath against your ear as they instruct you, a quick brush against your nipple to make you shiver, fingers inching towards your inner thighs just to feel how warm you are- but they always pull their hands back as if they've been burned. As if it was just an accident. And, although they put on an act, their apology to you is still genuine.

Maybe they feel guilty when you accept it, and move on- forgive and forget. Because you should be pulling away from them, screeching and calling them a pervert. But you don't, you push yourself towards them instead, because you believe the best in them, don't you? You look up to them, you think of them as a safe space. They would never touch you like that on purpose, you'd think.

On the other hand, maybe you want this, ALL of this, and you're too shy to say it. You want them to touch you, to give you special attention, to leer at you just like all the others. (But they're better than the others, they swear).

...Then that means this is all consensual, right? They just need to bring you out of your shell. (That's something they'll be happy to do).

[pip-n-chips]

PIP PIP!!!!

you got me back on my Harper brain rot... ily sm for rhat

ANYWAY!!!!!

Harper prone boning you 🤭🤤 making you sob and drool, clutching onto their coat while your a good little dumb bitch for them 🤤🤤🤤🤭

✨🌙 as always~

HI ANON ILY, I'm happy to give you the Harper brainrot again (I hear its mighty contagious, you should see a doctor about it)

quick content warning: noncon, drugging, amab!Harper (they/them used)

They don't pin you down- you're far too sedated to fight back, there isn't any need. But one of their hands still caresses your back, hips, shoulders- anywhere they can reach as they thrust into you. The other hand is propped up at your side, supporting their weight, and you reach back, desperate. Your fingers manage to grip the sleeve of their doctor's coat, but the most you could do is pathetically tug. You can't tell if they react to it or not, if they even felt it. If anything, they thrust harder.

You try to tell them to stop, that you don't want this, but all that leaves your lips are slurred words. You sob.

And, of course, Harper notices that. But they mistake your sob as one of pleasure (and maybe it was, you can hardly tell the difference between emotions right now. You just need it all to stop, one way or another), and they praise you in between pants and moans for taking it so well. They tell you how good you feel, how long they've been waiting for this, how they're so happy they've found the perfect moment.

And you're barely listening at this point, because each thrust is hitting deeper than before now and any thoughts you were going to have are wiped from your mind, and all you can do is whimper and squirm and-

...And then, it's over.

You're not sure how much time has passed, you're not sure if you could even tell if any had passed at all. But now Harper is shuddering as they fill your hole with their cum, and you lay there and take it. You sniffle and hiccup as they pull out of you, a stream of semen following and spilling out onto the table. Rustling fabric is heard as they shuffle off of you, but it all goes silent for a moment.

A camera flashes from behind.

"Thank you for the good time, my dear. I look forward to our next session."

[pip-n-chips]

letting Jordan get all the pent up thoughts and temptations out by railing you until the both of you cant breathe 🤤😩

oh god imagine him whining and begging to lwp him keep going, sobbing because it feels so good and just fjenfidnfjdbdhxb

id let my gf do that to me lmaoooo

✨🌙

NOD NOD

The image of Jordan sobbing out pleas in between moans as he thrusts into you, he can't stop once he's started. It's hard to breathe but he keeps going and going.

(He was gentle, more timid, at first. But you've awoken something primal in him and he can't stop, he needs more and more and more and this is what he's feared, ever since your first touch. You've shown him sin and now he can never go back. He's not even sure what's worse, that or the fact that he's not sure if he even wants to go back. You've ruined him. And he doesn't know whether to hate you or to be thankful for it.)

Your skin is wet with tears but they don't belong to you. Shakey lips pepper your own with kisses- not out of passion, but of grief, guilt. They're apologies. It's your fault he's like this, he knows that, but his will wasn't strong enough, he didn't fight back hard enough. You found his weaknesses and took advantage, but it's his fault for having a weakness in the first place.

The guilt never washes away, no matter how many times you've sinned together, that's a part of him you could never hope to change. But there are moments where it vanishes from view, just for a moment, and all that's there is you and him, sweaty and all.

Being free, being human. Something I don't think Jordan allows himself to be.

[pip-n-chips]

this is messy so apologies in advance! kind of long so the rest is under the cut

So... Kylar as a murderer, huh?

(warnings include: death, gore, general violence, stalking, kidnapping, manipulation, drugging, Kylar being Kylar)

Kylar is a stalker, first and foremost- from afar is where they feel most comfortable. They observe your behaviors, who you talk to, what you do- they have your entire schedule memorized. If you think you're alone, you're not. If you think no one is watching you, you're wrong. Kylar is watching you, always always always. They need to learn about you to protect you, and they do! It starts off relatively tame- darts are shot, death threats sent, but nothing that'll harm anybody! They don't act on it!

That is, until you start to make them jealous. Is this a challenge? A test? You must know what you're doing, right? Talking to that orphan, that businessperson, that bully, that religious freak--

No

nonono

nononono

no NO NO NO

NO, that won't do.

That won't do at all.

One of your "friends" disappear, and you're worried. And they can't understand why. They weren't good for you, you should be happy to be free of the grip they had on you. Regardless, this is the perfect opportunity for them to slide into your life, to be by your side. They want to be the light in your darkness, the shoulder you can always lean on. Everyone will leave you but them, can't you see? They love you they love you they love y-

One by one, the remaining friends disappear, and you worry more and more each time- and it does numbers on your mental health. And Kylar tells you it's okay, your friends are okay, they just weren't real friends. If they were, how could they just up and leave you? Oh so wonderful, so incredible you? They'll never leave you like how your so-called "friends" did. Do you know that? Please say that you do. Because they won't! Never ever ever ever!

This continues until they're the only one left, and things are exactly how they wanted...

++++Jealousy

But no.

You couldn't just accept the happy ending.

(The one that was always meant to be!)

You just had to go out and meet new people, make more connections.

(Are they not enough??)

And so, your new "friends" disappear one by one, again. But it doesn't stop there, because you didn't learn your lesson last time.

They start leaving anonymous "gifts" for you. To remind you that of those who left. To remind you that you are theirs.

Severed arms, feet, fingers. They paint you love notes with blood, smeared over the side of the orphanage. They write your name, the letters shaped by intestines. They place eyeballs around your room so you never feel alone, they leave jackets sewed from skin when winter comes to keep you warm. They leave you jewelery made from teeth so you can feel beautiful.

(And if you have the wolf TF, they'll gift you the bones. Aren't you a good doggie? Don't you love the gifts? Will you be good now?? Will you be loyal??)

And you better pray that they never learn that your previous "friends" were anything more than that, or that you had feelings for them, because they won't take it well, at ALL. Because one day, you'll come home to a box on your bed, and within lies the decapitated head of someone you once loved. (But never as much as you'll love Kylar, right??) It's ruined and decaying, but you recognize it just enough, and maybe you shut down.

You don't understand what's happening, who could do this? Why? What did you do?

Maybe you withdraw, maybe you cling to Kylar even harder, needing their support. And they finally have you where they want you.

But happiness doesn't last, again, and they blame you for it. Because, due to your past behavior, you've made them so so possessive and so so jealous, that all it takes is for you to look at someone else (or, god forbid, talk to someone else. What a waste of breath!), and they snap. Because have you NOT learned your lesson? NO ONE ELSE deserves your time of day, only Kylar only Kylar only Kylar only Kyl-

So you can't possibly blame them when you feel a pinch in your neck one night, and the only thing you can hear are Kylar's obsessive ramblings as your vision fades. You can't blame them when you wake up bound in rope in some dingy old basement. And if you try to plead, they'll remind you that this is all your fault. All you had to do was stay loyal, all you had to do was recognize who (them them them them) was best for you, but you didn't, and you forced their hand.

It's all your fault.

If you try to scream, Kylar would press a knife to your neck and beg you to stay silent. To be compliant. They don't want to kill you, they only want what's best for you. Do you know that? They don't have to beg you to say that you do this time, because you nod along frantically like the perfect thing that you are.

If you try to scream again (how could you lie to them you said you understood you said you said-), they cut out your tongue. Which is such a shame, your voice was music to their ears, but that's okay, they have their old recordings of you.

Your ending perfect life together really just depends on your behavior. If you fight back, your tongue won't be the only thing you'll lose. But that's okay, because you're so smart and cool, you'll learn eventually. You'll learn to be the perfect spouse, they really hope you do.

Because they don't want to kill you.

So go along with it, it's okay. You'll be happy here, eventually.

[pip-n-chips]

Harper growing up as the family's pride and joy, the young genius, the perfect little angel that can do no wrong. They grew up spoiled, feeling entitled to whatever they wanted, and their parent(s) happily went along with it. If they decided that they wanted another kid's toy, it was forfeited over to them in an instant.

And, even in adulthood, things are still the same. They're still the town's prodigy, the genius, the good doctor who could do no wrong. Because they've done so much for the town, people turn a blind eye and let them get away with anything they want. The only difference is that the toys they want now aren't some plastic little figures, no. They want bigger than that.

They want- no. They need you.

And Harper has claimed you as theirs from the very moment they had laid eyes on you, the prettiest toy in town.

(And you're so so precious, and they don't want to break you, but they have a track record of being too rough with their toys. But you won't have an issue with that, will you?)

[pip-n-chips]

Wich dol charactor would play a game akin to dol?? I need your opinion on this since your doing gamer content now

OKAY this might not be the answer you were expecting, but!!

Short Answer: Sydney!

Long answer (under the cut, because it got longer than I expected it to be):

I think it'd be Sydney. And not even their corrupted version (yet). They'd either find out about it on their own or through another student sending it to them as a prank, thinking they'd be utterly disgusted by it. And they are! They click off their browser as soon as they realize what the link leads to, and they're too horrified to even open it back up to delete the tab.

Such vile things,, who could play this without being ashamed- or even worse, get off from it?

They're shocked, nauseous, etc etc. But for the next few days they're uneasy, frustrated, shameful. Because for some reason they can't stop thinking about it- for the small bits of it they did see, anyway. They worry the devil has planted a seed within them the moment they found out about the game, and, like how they do for a lot of their other problems, they go to Jordan. Maybe they're too embarrassed or horrified to be specific about what's been plaguing their mind, but they give enough details for Jordan's advice to be helpful, for a little while at least.

At the end of the day though, all the praying and all the distractions achieved nothing, because they come back to the game's tab one night out of a moment of weakness. They tell themself it's just to get it out of their system, to remind themself of how horrid- how sinful this stuff is, set their mind straight. They don't even bother with character creation their first run, they just want to get it over with.

But one hour turns into two and their cheeks are hot and their eyes are glued to the screen. Two turns into three into four and their thighs are rubbing together and they wish they didn't have this damn chasity cage/belt on. Four turns into five into six and suddenly there's birds chirping and sunlight shining through the window and oh god what did they just do, what will the temple think about this, what will-

They don't have the courage to go to the temple before school, and they decline Sirris' offer to drive them. They just- they just need to think over things, clear their head, and walking to school will do it. They're flushed and more of a mess than usual, but no one notices, not really. (And if they did, no one would ever guess the real reason, yeah? At least they have that reputation going for them.)

They decide that they'll never let this happen again, but spoiler alert! It happens again pretty soon. They keep up their normal routine, they go to school, they go to the temple- but everytime they pray, they feel like they're unworthy to be listened to. They've been tainted, and they can't even blame anyone for it.

Jordan probably notices that they're more withdrawn and reaches out, but Sydney assures them that they're fine! In reality, they're unsure what to think anymore, they don't know themself anymore, and they're afraid. They're getting corrupted all on their own, and it's so damn addicting.

Guilty pleasures, man.