#this drawing gives off noncon vibes....

[user-null]

。

[augustsprincess]

August Walker x Reader (Drabble)

Warnings: Daddy/little vibes, noncon/dubcon, violence...its August.

There's no plot I'm sick and possessed.

It was your fathers business, then it was your brothers business. You didn’t care for the details of it, you just looked after the gardens and made sure the house was in good condition. Talked to the servants and all that. Sure, you knew it was a dodgy business. Far too often you saw people going home in body bags in the dead of night. But you chose to ignore it.

The current guest….was a man named August Walker. You caught a glimpse of him as he was dragged in through the back door, unconscious. He was gorgeous in a demented, do not touch kind of way and that intrigued you all the more. So when your brother said he’d be away on business for 2 days and you weren’t to go into the basement…well. It was obvious what you would do. One peak wouldn’t hurt, right?

At first the man is terrifying, and even speaking to him is like dipping your finger into a lake of piranha and waiting for one to snap.

But eventually you realize his binds are painfully tight around the centre column he's sat against, which means you can tease and annoy the living daylights out of this poor guy. And hey, if he's tied up in your basement it's for a good reason. Maybe a bit of fun torture would do him well. Besides, you were dreadfully bored and the staff had all gone home for the weekend.

He can’t do a thing.

The more he calls you a slut, bitch, whore or worse, the more you giggle. It infuriated August to the point he almost welcomed death.

On the first day, you sit 10 inches from him with your drawing pad and sketched him. You made small talk, showed him your drawings. He'd even admit you're a decent artist, that is until you added the kitten ears and heart stickers to his illustrated face. After a few hours your curiosity grows. You've one pink heart sticker left and you want to see how close you can get to the lion before the lion rips your hand off.

"Don't..." He warns. You giggle. "I mean it, girlie. Don't you put that thing on me." He wiggles again and you pout, frustrated. “Get the fuck off me, dumb bitch!”

“Hey! That’s not very nice! I’m giving you my heart!” You giggle. Once he calms down you try again, ignoring his persistent complaints. The more he speaks, the more his warnings turn to a plea. "Hey! No!" He shouts, snatching his head away from your index finger.

"Hold still, Mister! It won't hurt." You gently press the sticker to his left cheek with your finger and smooth it over with a gentle kiss and a loud “Mwah!”

August huffs as he stretches his face muscles to try to get it to wrinkle but the damn thing won't come off!

"All pretty! Good night, mister." You blew him a kiss as you closed the basement door and left him alone for the night.

“Stupid girl…..” He mutters. Wait… Why was he so uncomfortably hard? “Fuck.”

On the second night, you feed him some bread and cheese by hand and reluctantly he actually lets you. You were finally taming him!

August sits with you in his lap, a firm and unwavering snarl painted on his lips. You begin to play with his curls with one hand, and his chest hair with your other. All the while August is growing more and more hard under you. You're so distracted by a specific lock of his hair that you fail to notice all but a sound when the rope finally snaps behind him.

With a stupid amount of bravery you climb into his lap and start to tell him all about your day as if he was a willing listener. You feel something solid beneath your skirt but choose to ignore it. Your nonsensical ramblings about the latest episode of your favourite TV show send him into a begging frenzy yet again, but what you don't realise is that those bindings are getting more and more loose as you yammer on.

"Did you hear that?" You ask, curiosity lacing your words

"Must be the pipes. We are in the basement, girlie." He lies.

You snort at him. “I like you. You even have a cute nickname for me! I’ve never had a nickname before.”

You start to comb your hand through his hair and you're suddenly taken aback by the look he's giving you. Like the cat who got the cream. Was he...enjoying you stroking his hair? You tried not to think about it and continued but his unwavering stare and….lustful eyes? Well, you were drowning in them.

You're gently pulled closer by his left hand and in your naivety you give him a sweet smile before the penny drops.

And boy does it fucking drop.

You gasp. His fangs show in a sinister grin and you launch yourself from his lap, snatching his hand from your hip. He only has one hand loose so you take it as your opportunity to escape, slamming the door behind you to slow him down.

You sit in the cloakroom, cowering with the cobwebs and long forgotten coats of the guests who never had the chance to leave this house. Hoping and praying your brother would be home soon to save you. But the truth of it was, superheroes don't exist.

The heavy sound of the prisoners bare feet on your father's old wooden floors beat in tandem with your heart as he chases you through your home. Eventually you lose him and as quietly as humanely possible, you climb into the cloakroom and hide.

Nothing was coming to save you.

You stayed silent for what felt like hours before you were alerted to a dull creak and a loud slam as the cloakroom door was almost ripped off its hinges.

"Found ya!". You screeched as you were physically dragged from the cloakroom by your ankles.

"No need to squeal, little pig. It'll only hurt a bit." You clamber to your feet, the harsh carpet making your ascend slow enough for August to catch you first. He sticks his foot out, tripping you to the floor again, toying with you. Like you were food.

"Oh stop crying, girlie. I thought you liked to tease?" You try to stand and run again but you're thrown over his shoulder in a split second and no amount of hitting him is helping. There’s nothing else to do but to watch his feet as he carried you up the stairs, straight to your bedroom.

With one swift movement and a harsh grip of your hips he has you pinned, chest down to the bed.

"That's a good girl, stay still for Daddy." He purrs, pulling your bright pink stockings from your legs. He tosses them to the floor as he climbs onto the bed, the mattress deepening under his heavy body.

"Please! I'm sorry, I was just bored! I didn't mean to upset you-" You try your best to help yourself, but it’s like a switch just been flicked and he turns from excited, to pissed the fuck off.

"You were 'bored'?!" The man flips you to your back and yanks your body towards him, as he leans on his calves. "No, no, no. You're a slut. A dirty brat and you thought you could get away with it, didn't you? Thought I wouldn't break free and catch you. Well I know just what you need, just what you asked for."

If you could, you would laugh at the situation. Here was this gorgeous, dangerous and absolutely insane man. Kneeling at the end of your bed, hard as a rock and all the while with a heart sticker attached to his cheek. And he was so pissed!

It was the reappearance of the rope binding in his hand that brought you back to the severity of the moment. Fear turned to manic terror as you shuffled backwards.

"No...no! Please don't!" August climbs on top of your body, thick thighs trapping you to the bed as he deliberately presses his hard crotch into you.

"Ah, ah, ah, shhh." He presses his index finger to your lips. You can't stop him, he's twice the size of you at least. So you watch as he ties your hands to the headboard of the bed.

Once he's done, he leans down....covering your entire body with his own...

"I fuckin' hate a tease." He snarls into your ear, before your pretty pink skirt is ripped clean off.

You’re pulled back to the office with a sudden wave of guilt and shame. Your face felt like it could light a match and your coffee cup almost slipped from your sweaty hands.

“Are you alright, Miss? You look like you just remembered an embarrassing dream.” Mr. Walker teases, before he walks on past your desk and towards his own. Fuck. How could you have forgotten that dream until now? How could you have even dreamed something like that up, and with your boss. And that look on his face, it was as if he knew.

You shake your head and face your computer, determined to continue your work and get on with your day. Maybe you could look into therapy later or talk to your best friend about it. Surely there was a completely normal reason for dreaming about your boss being tied up in your basement and then chasing you for some depraved, frustrated sex. Right?

“Ms. Y/S/N, Mr Walker would like to see you in his office, it's urgent.” Fuck.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Almost to the holiday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“Well,” Ransom stops in the doorway as you stand on the tile, Ernie at your heels, “grab a bowl for the damn dog.”

You look at him but say nothing. Ernie isn’t mean without reason so you hardly feel bad for him. He must’ve done something really bad to make the giant sweetheart into such a beast.

You go to the counter and reach to the cupboard. He doesn’t offer any direction as you find only glasses and mugs inside. You move to the next; dry goods and cans. You shift back the other way and pop open another door; there’s a stack of bowls inside. A bit small but it’ll have to do.

As you clasp the edge of the bowl, you feel a sudden presence behind you. Before you can react, Ransom is against you, his arms hooking under yours as he cups your tits in his hands. He rocks with you as Ernie snarls.

“Get the dog to shut up,” he squeezes. “Or I’ll feed it bleach.”

You call Ernie’s name. He gives one last rumble but quiets. You set the bowl on the counter as Ransom leans into you, nuzzling your head as he fondles you. You hope he can’t feel your heart pounding.

“Mmm, they feel just as nice as they look. Why don’t you slip that sweater off so I can get a taste,” he pushes you against the counter, “you give that fuzzy-lipped bastard the good stuff–”

“Goddamnit,” Andy’s hiss cuts through the tension. Ransom sighs onto your hair, giving a tweak through the wool before reluctantly parting, “keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” Ransom spins and stomps his foot, “what are we even waiting for? We do all this–” He gestures with his hand, “and you’re bossing me around like a child.”

“You are,” Andy accuses as he approaches and puts down the bag of kibble on the counter, “I salvaged what I can,” he says to you directly.

“Um, thank you,” you swallow. He smiles before he faces the other man again, “we haven’t even opened our presents.”

Ransom narrows his eyes as his cheek ticks. He arches a brow and shrugs, “fine. So why don’t we get it over with?”

“Breakfast first,” Andy insists. “It’s tradition.”

“Who’s fucking tradition?”

“They have to start somewhere, don’t they?” Andy challenges. 

You frown. Tradition. You really hope you don’t have time to build any of those.

“Honey, you stay, help me with breakfast,” Andy turns his back on Ransom, “the other two can get the table ready…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “you can handle that, can’t you?”

Ransom’s nostrils flare and he bares his teeth. He kind of reminds you of Ernie when he does that. The dog tilts his head curiously as he watches the scene, ignorant of the words but sensing the vibes.

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of,” Ransom growls. “Have fun playing fucking house.”

He storms off, his shoulder hitting the door frame in his anger and drawing a grunt from him. You flinch and bring your hands up to wring. Andy tuts and faces the counter, glancing over at you.

“Are you alright, honey?” He asks, letting his hand fingers flutter to the edge of your cuff.

“Yeah,” you answer smally. That’s what he wants. For you to be helpless, to need him. And you do, just not the way he intends. “He… he isn’t nice like you.”

The corners of his lips curve just a little as his eyes search you, “you think so?”

You nod and slide the bowl off the counter, “I’m going to feed Ernie.”

“Alright,” he relents and takes a step back, “uh, yeah, he’s probably starving.”

You move around Andy and dip the bowl into the bag of kibble. He clears his throat and goes to work, pulling down ingredients. Nothing fancy. He sets a box of pancake batter as he pulls the waffle maker away from the wall. Your stomach growls loudly and Andy grins in your direction.

“You too, huh?”

You smile over the bowl of kibble in your hands, “a little, yeah.” You turn to Ernie as he sniffs the air and drools. You go to him and bend your knees to put the bowl on the floor. You know he’s watching. Good, he’s just as simple as the others.

🎀

You’re the only one who seems interested in the meal. Only because it gives you something to focus on to keep your imagination from straying too far. Of course, you’re not as stupid as these men think. You know all too well their intent. Yet there efforts continue to confound you.

You offer to clean up. Another excuse to keep yourself busy. Away from them. Andy insists that he does that task and sends you off the other two to the front room. You’re less than eager to walk between them as they get closer and closer, nearly squishing you as you reach your destination.

You flit away from them and claim a spot in the lone armchair. Ernie follows and sits at your feet. He keeps his head up, panting as he watches the men and you avoid looking at them altogether. Lloyd strolls along the mantle and sucks his teeth as Ransom sits on the extension of the sectional.

“Fucking lame…” Lloyd mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Ransom agrees, the clink of dishes sounding from the kitchen.

You hate to admit it so you won’t, but they’re right. 

Your eyes drift along and settle on the tree. There are a slew of wrapped gifts underneath. They weren’t there the day before.

The awkward silence doesn’t last long as Andy emerges. He looks around, tucking his hands in his pockets as he takes in the room. He’s not in his typical suit. You didn’t take time to notice before but he looks cozy. He wears a blue sweater and a pair of jeans a shade darker. It makes him look softer than usual.

You check the other men. They’re not very festive. They wear what you can only assume is their usual look. Lloyd in a tight black tee which does little to conceal the buds of his nipples. Your gaze wants to fixate there but you resist that odd temptation. He’s paired the dark top with a pair of pine striped ankle pants and velvet loafers. You call it douche formal. The customers who dress like that usually don’t even understand how to check the website.

Then Ransom. Not too dissimilar to Andy but still himself. An ivory sweater with brown pants, a locket peeking out below his collar from the slim gold chain around his neck. It screams rich prick trying too hard to look like he’s not trying.

The one thing these men have in common is their ignorance. They don’t know, they never considered that you can read them. You spent years in retail, you know people. A little more than you like. They took your demeanour as innocent and naive, they don’t consider it as defensive.

“Alright, finally, let’s open some presents,” Andy claps his hands together.

“Before we start,” Lloyd leans beside the mantle, “I have a question?”

Andy looks at him, waiting.

“Shouldn't you be doing this with your family–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Andy snaps but stops himself, showing his palm, “that’s not for you to worry about.”

“I’m looking out for you–”

“I know what you’re doing,” Andy points at him.

Lloyd snickers.

“I’d like to make a suggestion,” Ransom stands, Ernie tense as he does. They look at each other. “Can we put the dog away?

All three men look at Ernie. You look back at them as you reach to pet the dog’s broad head.

“He’s not hurting anyone,” you plead.

“Not yet,” Ransom scoffs.

“Look, pussy cat, you’re lucky that thing’s even here.”

You want to scowl and bite back. They knew you had a dog when they took you. You mentioned him several times. It’s not exactly your fault they didn’t factor him into the equation.

“We don’t want him to get worked up,” Andy assuages, “why don’t you take him to your room for now? We wouldn’t want him to ruin any of your gifts.”

“He won’t,” you argue, not quick enough to stop yourself. “He’s trained.

“I know, honey, but just for a little. He can come back out later.”

“Yeah, or I can drive him out to the highway,” Lloyd snorts.

You furrow your brow at him. He snickers as your anger amuses him. You quickly wipe it away. You can’t lose your cool yet. You slowly get up, stepping over Ernie and exposing a bit too much thigh. You call the dog’s name but he doesn’t move. He knows something’s wrong.

You bend and grab his collar, “come on, buddy, please.”

At first he doesn’t budge but relents as you coax him with quiet whispers. He lets you lead him out, dragging his large paws with your less than urgent pace. You get to the open bedroom and look inside.

“Sorry, Ern,” you say as you nudge him ahead, “it’ll be okay, I promise. Mama take care of you.”

He goes into the room and turns to stare back at you with his doe eyes. You want to melt into a puddle. He’s so cute and sweet. He doesn’t deserve all this. If it was just you, you’d fight, but you have to worry about him. 

You shut the door and go back to the living room. The men seem anxious as you enter. Ransom pinches the locket around his neck between his fingers, Andy smooths the front of his sweater with his large hand, and Lloyd digs his heel into the floor as he picks his fingernail.

“Alright,” Andy exhales as he faces you, “so, honey, you start.”

You blink at him and cross your arms. You don’t know what he means. You glance around, between each of them.

“Open a gift,” Andy steps back and gestures to the tree, “they’re all for you.”

Your stomach churns and your heart flips. Something about this is off. Not just that you’ve been abducted or this weird house with locks on the doors and deafening walls. More than these men and their incessant leers. There’s more than a dozen presents, for you alone, but why?

“Me?” You pull your arms apart and force them down to your sides, clutching the weave of the sweater dress.

“Go on,” Lloyd encourages with a wink.

You restrain yourself as best you can. Fear courses through you as you try to unravel their riddle. What are they up to? They’re watching you like wolves, prowling, ready to pounce, so why don’t they?

You tiptoe forward and as you near Andy, he stays exactly where he is. You brush against him and feel his breath fan over you. You pass Ransom as he once more sits on the foot of the sectional. 

You stop before the tree and consider the array of gifts; boxes, bags, and wrapped bundles. It’s the sort of haul any child dreams of. You remember the Christmas Eves you lay awake sleepless hoping for just this. Waking to only a new pair of socks and a couple toiletries from the group home. You didn’t often get what you wanted, but you could get by with what you needed.

You bend your knees, the hem of the sweater rising up your thighs as you reach for a small box. You stand and turn to the men, staring down at the red box with a gold bow on top. You gulp and peek up at them. They all just watch. 

You wiggle the lid until it pops off. You reveal a pair of dangling pearl earrings. They’re pretty. Probably real but you don’t have the eye to tell. You peer up again, confused. It’s actually a very nice gift.

“Who’s it from?” Andy asks.

You flinch and check the tag. You should’ve done that first. You pull it straight as it hides under the tail of the bow, “Ransom,” you read.

“Ha!” He claps his hands, together then on his knees, “fuck yeah.”

“Huh?” You utter dumbly.

“Shit,” Lloyd mutters and Andy lets his disappointment flow out heavily.

“What…” you can’t finish the question.

“Pretty nice gift, huh?” Ransom taunts, “so, uh, what’s my gift, sweetheart?”

You grimace and examine the wall behind him, “I don’t… have anything…”

“Actually,” he interjects, “I think you do. Why don’t you pop those on, then pop your tits out?”

You gape at him. He bites his lip as you stand dumbfounded and humiliated. Lloyd chuckles and Andy growls as he paces, sitting in the armchair.

“I don’t…”

“It’s an exchange, not free for all, you got yours. I get mine,” he tilts his head, “so put those on and let me fuck your tits.”

You close your mouth. You’re not surprised but you’re not ready either. You didn’t expect them to hold out forever but you need more time. The problem is they’re not playing by your schedule, you have to adjust to yours. That means, you’ll be working from behind.

“I’m waiting,” Ransom huffs, “you know, you’re being pretty ungrateful there, sweetheart.”

Andy plants his elbow on the armrest as you look at him, “do it.”

“But…” you pout, “you said…”

“He gave you a gift,” Andy said. “He won’t hurt you. I’m here.”

You nearly drop the box. What does he mean he won’t hurt you? You don’t want to do that.

Well…

You don’t have a choice. As rotten as it is, it will only be worse if you refuse. You lower your chin and nod. You turn to set the box down on the small table just beside the couch, too close to Ransom. He snickers as you hear his zipper whisper down. Oh god.

You pull out your plain gold hoops and replace them with the teardrop pearls. You feel them dangle between your fingertips and raise your head. Worse than what you’re about to do is the audience. This isn’t just you being violated, this is that violation being witnessed.

You walk along the sectional and Ransom catches your wrist, pulling you forward impatiently. He turns you to face him. Your eyes widen as you try not to look lower than you need to. His cock bobs at the edge of your vision.

“Take this off,” he touches the hem of the dress.

You spread your sweaty palms over the wool. Slowly, you tug it upwards. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as you reveal your nakedness to the room. You stand only in the knee highs and panties.

“Damn,” Lloyd clucks, “an ass on this one.”

Andy doesn’t comment, he only hums as the chair creaks under his weight.

“Get down,” he orders.

You hold your breath and obey. You get to your knees as Ransom plays with himself. You can’t look him in the face and you definitely don’t want to look down. You stare instead at his sweater.

“Push your tits together,” he demands.

Again, you listen. It’s like you’re in a trance. The room is fuzzy and your body is hollow. He laughs again and taps his tip against your tits.

“Fuck, those are some nice tits,” he remarks, grabbing your shoulder to urge your closer.

He slips his dick between your cleavage. His throbbing head pokes up above the swell of flesh. He dips down and back up, rocking you by your shoulder as he guides you. You move with him, fighting back the tide of repulsion.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “come on and give it a kiss, sweetheart.”

You flinch. He squeezes your shoulder. A warning. You bend your head and kiss his tip as it once more pokes above your cleavage. He groans and his hand moves to cover one of yours, making you grope yourself tighter.

“Fuck,” he rasp, “you know what…” he turns to Andy, reminding you of the others, of them watching you, “I think I get it now.” He winks at you as you fuck his length with your tits, “good fucking choice, Barber.”

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 15th

Noncon, Possessed!Swiss x Reader

Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: Noncon; extreme horror; dead dove: do not eat; explicit use of the word “rape” throughout; public masturbation; exhibitionism; possession; violence; demonic asphyxiation; victim blaming; face-slapping; sexual violence; rape; rape-kink; characters acknowledge that it’s rape; piv; vaginal sex; unprotected sex; pain; degradation; public sex; mind break; underprepared; dacrophilia; unconcious sex; multiple scenes; dubcon; fear play; breeding kink; cum eating; accidental filming via security camera; creampie;

The Ghouls aren't demons in my fic. They're humans who work in the Ministry but they're a different class of profession, somewhere between personal assistants and body guards depending on the importance of Papa's task.

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

**WARNING**

This is a work of fiction based in the extreme horror category and should be treated as such. I do not condone the actions the characters make, nor am I actively encouraging others to participate in such actions in everyday life. It also does not reflect the personalities of the performers who play these characters.

The purpose of this fic is to shock, scare, entertain, and make readers entirely uncomfortable. If you are not in a headspace where you can safely read and enjoy this story, or even if the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend and encourage you not to read this. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

If you are struggling to come to terms with past trauma, please talk to someone and seek professional help.

You deserve to feel safe, loved and cared for. Thank you.

Sometimes rituals went wrong. That was one of the things you learned when you first joined the Ministry. Rituals go wrong and not every demon is your friend. Of course, the more rituals one participated in determined the success of said ritual just down to the fact that experience was a key ingredient and so it was always recommended to bring someone who had experience to every single ritual just to be safe.

Papa Copia’s Ghouls were the more experienced ones in the Ministry, but more specifically Mountain, Rain, Swiss, and Dew. Yourself and Phantom were mere babes in comparison; sweet summer children who knew nothing of life and Satanism, only sex rituals on pentagrams give funny dreams and great orgasms. Because of this, you and Phantom walked into the ritual room with a bit of a pep in your steps, and no worries or concerns whatsoever - not concerning yourselves with seriousness or responsibility. This was just a regular, sex magick ritual surrounded by friends in order to contact the Olde One and get some advice is all. You had done this perfectly before, and you had no reason to think it wouldn’t happen again.

You, Rain and Mountain began lighting the candles in the room, ten of them to be precise. One for each of the pentagram’s corners, and a further five to outline the space in between. Dewdrop, the most experienced of everyone there, was in charge of drawing the pentagram from scratch. The first step was to scrub away the existing paint from a previous Sibling’s ritual.

“Why are we doing this?” Phantom asked as he wrung out the hot, soapy water from the sponge.

Dew sighed, “Did you not pay attention during training, Phantom?”

Swiss was now on his hands and knees next to Dew scrubbing at the red paint with a hard-bristled brush. “Clearly not. Look at those eyes: no thoughts just vibes.”

Phantom threw some of the soapy water at Swiss, in turn earning himself a middle finger. “I didn’t have time to study, remember? I was just thrown straight into life here after Aether…” Phantom trailed off, remembering how so many people in the room weren’t ready to talk about what happened. There was a brief silence while they all cast their minds back to their long lost friend.

“We clean off the old pentagram,” Dew said, clearly exasperated by his Satanic brothers, “because we don’t know what kind of ritual our Siblings performed before we got here. Cleaning the floor allows us to better control the safety of our ritual.”

“What could happen if we don’t clean up?” Phantom asked. “Moreover, what would happen if we just built upon these lines?”

“Oh come on, Phantom.” You said. “Even I know that.” Phantom got on his knees and began scrubbing away the paint on his third of the pentagram. “The cross energy between rituals and magic opens up a gateway for negative energy to come through. Sometimes that energy is just bad karma or bad luck, and you have one hell of a week.”

Swiss, “Literally.”

You continued, “Or it’s the souls of the damned coming through, or worse, demons.”

Phantom, “Has the Dark One ever travelled through these portals?”

Dew, “Probably. But He doesn’t do it often.”

“What I still don’t understand is why demons and damned souls would want to hurt us, we’re all on the same side, after all.”

Mountain, “Catholicism. You give energy to things you believe in, which in turn makes it more powerful, right?” Phantom nodded. “This is why Lucifer Himself wouldn’t come to harm us because we love and worship Him as a friend, a lover, a brother etc. But according to Catholicism, why does Hell exist?”

“To punish bad people after they die.”

“And what do we know happens to these bad people when they spend an eternity being tortured by demons?”

“They become demons themselves.”

“Good boy, have a Scooby snack.” Mountain threw a packet of mini-Oreos at Phantom, who caught it with one hand.

Rain, “Some of those bad people become demons, not all of them. The majority of demons are created by Lucifer as assistants to Him, and they’re usually picked from the petty criminals rather than genocidal maniacs and bigoted pricks. Like Mephistopheles, for example. He was just a businessman before he died. Think Ebenezer Scrooge, but in real life. Stole from the poor to put in his back pocket. In comparison to say, I don’t know, Stalin, he wasn’t too bad of a guy. If Mephistopheles showed up, we would have a great time sending him back. We’d just have to watch our wallets.”

Phantom, “And if it’s one of the dangerous ones, it would be catastrophic?”

Dew, “Absolutely. Papa and the Clergy would have to get involved. Papa would have to contact the Olde One directly to come and drag the beast away. Contacting the Olde One with the ritual that Papa would need could put Papa in mortal danger. So, we clean to save Papa as well as ourselves. So, make sure you get every spot, you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

That was the first mistake made that night: no one double checked before the paint went down that the previous paint had been cleaned completely. From eye-level, everything looked squeaky. But what none of you realised at the time was there were small, insignificant specs of paint left in Swiss’ third. Insignificant specs, but by no means safe.

The second mistake was that when the candles were being placed on the freshly painted pentagram, one of them wasn’t precisely sat atop one of the points. The candles usually acted as an extra barrier of protection, essentially trapping something inside the pentagram if it came through uninvited. Lower level demons or spirits could still be trapped if the candles weren’t precise, but the higher level ones wouldn’t be stopped.

The five Ghouls were there to conduct the ritual on Papa’s behalf, you were there to provide the energy to allow them to do so. This wasn’t your first ritual and so you had no problems at all getting completely naked in front of the five men you considered to be close friends, and sitting in the centre of the pentagram. You’d been part of these rituals before with them, if you hadn’t already had a few of them balls deep inside you on multiple occasions beforehand. And so when they had all joined hands, you had no shyness or reservations about spreading your legs and exposing yourself to them. This would be the third mistake.

Swiss wasn’t concentrating fully. If you’d have opened your eyes and looked at your friends holding hands around you as they chanted, you would have seen Swiss looking directly at you with his mouth open, watching as you touched yourself surrounded by men. You would have seen that he was concentrating on your hands toying with your clit more than chanting the Latin required to safely perform the ritual. You could have stopped the ritual because of it - but you didn’t. You didn’t know that there was a problem.

Your head was thrown back in pleasure as your fingers worked over your clit. Your body was draining of energy the closer and closer you got to orgasm. In your line of sight, you could see Rain looking back at you but his mouth reciting the Latin he’d learned. You couldn’t see Rain’s eyes, though you were desperate to know what he looked like under there right now. All eyes were on you, and it turned you on so much to know that you were being intensely watched by five masked men as you dipped two fingers into your cunt and began to hit your g-spot.

Masked men, the fifth mistake.

Had they all removed their masks, everyone would have seen the biggest problem in the room: Swiss. Not only had he stopped chanting in order to concentrate on your wetness, but his head had begun twitching. Had he not worn his mask, others would have seen his eyes glaze over and roll back into his head. They’d have noticed the white dimming into pitch blackness. They’d have been able to break the circle and preemptively send the demon back to Hell before it could fully appear in the real world. But as hot as the masks were, and as much as you loved looking at them, they were impractical and unsafe for private rituals.

The air grew thick with an unholy presence, and a palpable darkness descended upon the ritual site. The very ground seemed to tremble beneath your feet as a foul wind swirled around you, extinguishing the candles one by one.

As the ritual reached its zenith, a sudden surge of malevolent force swept through the circle, causing you all to recoil in terror. Swiss let out a deep, yet blood curdling scream causing everyone in the room to stop what they were doing and freeze, yourself included. Your wet hand now removing itself from your core and your body sitting up straight in alarm. By the time you’d focused on him, Swiss had broken the circle and was cupping his head over his helmet, as though he was in immense pain. His screaming continued as he doubled over, bent at the waist and yelling at the floor. Swiss’ voice, now filled with an otherworldly resonance, grew louder and more insistent, his body trembling with an eerie energy. One of his hands began to hit at the mask in an attempt to stop whatever was causing him so much discomfort.

“Swiss!” Dew shouted, running over to his friend. “Brother, focus! Come back to us! Phantom! Go get help, now!”

Phantom nodded and ran out the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Swiss, it’s me: it’s Dew. What’s wrong, brother?”

“My… head!” Swiss exclaimed through gritted teeth. “It’s in my head!”

You stood up and dressed yourself, making sure that at least your habit was covering you. All the while, you watched as Dew frantically tried to get answers out of his brother, and figure out what went wrong so he could help. Swiss was still screaming, still trying to escape out of Dew’s grasp.

Then silence.

Swiss stood straight. Still. No more screams of pain, no more frantic Dew. You couldn’t even hear the world outside the ritual room. Just maddening silence that could drive a person to insanity if they were in it for too long. Everyone remained unmoving, fearing even breathing in case it triggered something. You wanted to leave, to escape the room and get help - or even just pull your friends out and save them. But your body wouldn’t move. It wouldn’t respond to your brain’s pleas to get the fuck away.

In that chilling moment, a grotesque transformation overtook Swiss. His voice, now distorted and filled with malice, spoke words that were not his own. It was a demon that had taken hold of him, a malefic entity summoned from the abyss.

The demon had been called forth by all of the mistakes made that night. It reveled in the chaos and despair that surrounded it, relishing the opportunity to wreak havoc upon the mortal realm. With Swiss as its vessel, the demon’s power knew no bounds.

The demon’s dark presence continued to grow, casting a sinister pall over the entire Ministry. Outside of the room, a sense of unease began to spread. Siblings and Ghouls alike could feel the malevolence that radiated from the heart of the Ministry, an unnatural darkness that seemed to seep into their very souls. It was as if the very fabric of reality had been torn asunder, and the boundary between the mortal realm and the abyss had grown thin.

Everyone was simply afraid to speak, to move, to even breathe. There was a comfort in the silence that couldn’t be explained other than Swiss hadn’t attacked anyone or made any movements. You weren’t even sure if Swiss was still in there. No one move, no one blink, no one make any sounds.

Swiss moved first - his head shifting from Ghoul to Ghoul to you as though he were studying you all. He seemed more like a caged animal than a human as he weighed up his options, though he wasn’t entirely registering what he was seeing. Each room was designed with at least some kind of demonic suppressor so you knew whoever had stolen Swiss from you didn’t have the full extent of his powers. But as he’d barely done anything, you still couldn’t gauge just how dangerous he was.

Suddenly, Swiss’ eyes locked onto you and focused on nothing else. Your body was still very scantily clad in your habit, your legs fully on display even though you were hiding behind Mountain. Swiss’ mouth curled up into a sinister smile. “He likes you.” Two voices emerged from his throat, the first being Swiss’ sweet timbre, the second the demonic entity inside of him. “I am in his head. I know. I see.” He took a small step forward. “He has sinned against you. He does so nightly.” Another step. “He imagines things in his chambers when he is alone. He wants to bury himself deep inside you. Even today during the ritual, he considered getting on his knees and taking you in front of everyone.” Another step. That was when you all realised the final mistake: you.

Swiss got possessed because he was watching you masturbate in front of him. He got possessed because he was craving your body, your touch. He got possessed because he was concentrating on how you’d feel wrapped around him and didn’t pay attention to the most important things. You never should have been chosen for the ritual. You never should have agreed.

Swiss spoke again. “I think we should give him what he wants, don’t you?”

“You stay away from her!” Dew shouted. He’d gained enough confidence and bravery to step forward, arms outstretched, and ready to restrain Swiss. Or at least attempt to anyway. Dew was much, much smaller than Swiss, so even when he wasn’t possessed by a demonic entity, restraining him alone would have been damn near impossible. But the added power now coursing through Swiss’ human veins made restraint way more difficult.

All Swiss had to do was lift his hand and Dew was levitating from the ground. A simple push saw Dew flying backwards, his head smacking against the wall and his body falling limp to the floor.

“Dew!” Rain shouted. It was a natural reflex done out of fear and it caused him to lurch forward. The demon, presuming Rain had moved to attack him, copied the motion and threw Rain against the wall too, the sweetest of all the Ghouls now unmoving on the other side of the room.

Mountain still held you behind him and for every step the demon took towards you, Mountain moved you backwards. You could tell he was trying to move you towards the door without taking his eyes off of Swiss. But deep down you both knew that while Mountain was a worthy opponent for Swiss, he was no match for the thing possessing him. All Mountain could do was hope that you at least got out of the room safely especially now that the demon had its eyes on you.

“Give her willingly and your life will be spared.” Swiss’ two voices cut through the panicked silence.

“No.” Mountain said.

Swiss raised his hand into a fist and concentrated on Mountain. Mountain, like the others, was now being raised off the ground, but this time Swiss was being torturous, enjoying the pain he was inflicting internally. Mountain grasped at his throat as if a hand had been wrapped around it, and struggled to get air into his lungs. “___,” he choked out, “go!”

Somehow your body responded to the sound of his voice and you made a break for the door. There was a part of you that knew you’d never reach it - that knew you’d end up in a worse fate than your friends, but you still tried anyway. Maybe if you left, you would be able to find more help to bring. Maybe you’d run into Phantom or Papa, just someone who could come and save everyone. You refused to believe that they were all dead - you would have given up if you thought that. So for all the good it did you, you chose to run. You chose to fight as best you could.

Behind you, Mountain’s body thudded to the floor, but you could hear him gasping for breath. Swiss, who was now focussing on you trying to make your escape, didn’t put the full extent of his powers into hurting Mountain as he did Dewdrop and Rain. Mountain was weakened from the impact but he wasn’t unconscious… yet. But now you had no protection - now you were completely vulnerable.

You managed to get the door open, but by then, it was too late, Swiss had already come up behind you and slammed it shut again. His large hands grabbed onto your waist, thick fingers digging into your flesh and manoeuvring you to where he wanted you. Your own back slammed against the door and you were met with Swiss’ cold, unfeeling mask, glass eyepieces only showing a glimpse of the blackened eyes that had completely stripped away the humanity from one of your closest friends. His once beautiful smile brought you nothing but happiness now evil and no doubt the last thing you’d ever see. You struggled, fighting against the unholy strength that had caught you, but of course, you were no match for him - in fact, he seemed to enjoy you struggling. In your frantic movements, your hip grazed his and you felt his cock now standing hard beneath his Ghoulish uniform. You knew what was coming.

He cackled, the two voices giving a creepier edge to something so joyous. His free hand came to remove the helmet and allowed you to gaze at the face that was going to bring you so much pain. His eyes were, indeed, as black as you’d been told. Veins were popping from beneath his skin, no doubt Swiss straining from the inside to expel the demon from within but failing miserably. Even though you could hear it wasn’t Swiss, and you could see the eyes certainly weren’t his, it was so difficult to differentiate between demon and human. Your brain struggled reminding you that Swiss wasn’t the one who’d hurt your friends; that he wasn’t the one rubbing his clothed cock against your thigh; that his hand wasn’t squeezing one of your soft breasts so painfully hard; that it wasn’t his tongue licking a stripe from your neck to your ear.

You pushed against his large chest trying to distance yourself, but it was as if you were trying to move the Ministry itself. He wasn’t budging. “Get. Off. Me!” You grunted in your exertion.

“This Ghoul wants you - you would deny him? You would deny him after the show you put on for him?”

“There was no show!”

“Really? Because you angled your body to give him the perfect view of,” the hand that was on your breast now moved to your crotch and gripped your vulva tightly - so tightly you screamed, “this cunt. You wanted him to touch you. You were asking for him to take you. Begging for it, were you not?”

“I wasn’t!”

“Lying whore!” He slapped your face hard enough to leave a mark, the bite knocking you off kilter for a second and making the room spin. He grasped hold of your cheeks and forced you to look at him. He took his opportunity to kiss you, forcefully pressing his mouth to yours and using his tongue to lick over your unresponsive lips. Taking this opportunity, you kneed him in his crotch now extra sensitive from all the blood that had pooled there. This gave you enough respite from his attack to push him away from you and attempt an escape. The door was locked shut this time, though. And it didn’t matter anyway, he was faster than you thought.

His thick forearm wrapped around your neck and pulled your body flush against his. “You like pain, hm?” This time, when he spoke, he used only Swiss’ voice. He tightened his arm and began cutting off the air supply to your lungs. “You want me to make it hurt?”

“Swiss!” You choked from his anaconda-like grasp. “Stop!”

“He cannot help you now, little one. But I have made sure he can see everything.”

With one hand on your shoulder, he released you from his chokehold long enough to push you hard to the ground. As you stumbled and collapsed, you felt the skirt of your habit rising up over your bare ass cheeks, which earned another menacing snicker from the demon. “Look at you. The little Jezebel is ready for her master’s cock.”

“No!”

You got onto your hands and knees ready to stand and run, but you felt Swiss’ boot on your exposed backside and stamping you back down flush to the floor. Wasting no more time or effort, he straddled your hips to keep you pinned down and pressed his entire weight onto you. Over the sound of your struggling, you heard his jeans zipper undoing.

“Still some energy in you, I see.” He taunted as he placed his hands where his thighs were and moved further down your body, still fighting you. “I wonder how long that will last.”

You braved a look behind you to see if there was anything further you could do, but caught a glimpse of what Swiss was sporting under his clothes. Now he was fully exposed, you truly saw his length and girth for what it was and dread pooled in your stomach. The pain you were about to feel was beyond terrifying.

“Which hole should we rape?” Swiss asked, lining himself up with your ass and rubbing against the rim. “This one?”

“No! Please! Let me go!”

“Or this one?” He then rubbed over the entrance to your cunt and gasped. “She is wet! The whore is ready to accept Satan’s gift! She wants it even though she deludes herself otherwise.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Ghoul, which hole do you fantasize about the most, hm? Which one do you want us to rape today?” There was silence for a moment and you could swear you heard Swiss’ screams - similar screams to when he was first possessed. “Her tight, little cunt hm?”

He lined up once more with your hole, and you tried again to escape from underneath him. “Swiss! Please stop! Please! No!” Your wriggling proved useless when you felt him press inside you.

The pain was beyond anything you’d felt before, a searing white hot pain that shot through your entire body and only continued the more of him entered you. He wasn’t gentle with his movements, as expected from a demon. He bottomed out almost immediately, hitting your cervix roughly and causing you to scream. “He was right,” Swiss said, “you do feel incredible. This hole was made for cock, no wonder he spent all his time drooling over you.” He pulled out and thrust back in laughing at your pain-filled scream. “I have kept him awake so that he can remember this gift the Unholy Father has bestowed. More material for him to think about in the darkness of his room.”

“Please, stop!” Your voice was high pitched now and tears were staining your cheeks as your hands covered your mouth to muffle your cries. Your distraught sobs caught the demon’s attention, however, and he wanted his gratification.

He wrapped Swiss’ hand in your hair and tugged your face off the floor. Your mouth was hung open from your weeping and your screams escaped every time he thrust in and hit your cervix. “That is right, scream for him. Let him know how good you feel on his cock.” The sound of your cunt swallowing him made him speed up his movements, entirely enthralled by your body accepting him properly. “Show him how you love being raped by his fat cock.”

“P-please stop!”

He groaned. “Keep begging for me to stop. Keep crying for me. You get tighter every. Single. Time.” He thrust between each word, getting rougher and rougher with you.

With his hand in your hair, your head was lifted and you could look around the room. As your body was pushed along the floor by the power of his hips, your tears blurred your vision but you could still see your friends laying lifeless in front of you - spread in all manner of ways. None of them could save you. None of them could help you. If they were even alive. Your thoughts turned to Phantom, outside of this room searching for someone to come and exorcise the demon back to Hell. Your fear became overpowering at the thought of the sweet newcomer walking in and seeing you pinned beneath Swiss, being raped by someone you all used to love and trust. Would anyone else understand that this wasn’t Swiss hurting you? Would Swiss even survive the exorcism?

In a moment of adrenaline from the fear you felt, you shifted your body using all the strength you could muster. You wrapped your legs around his calves, swung your arm to hit his face and proceeded to turn as if you were about to lie on your back. Swiss didn’t anticipate this and so slipped out of you for a brief moment, falling off of you. Wasting no time, your weak legs forced you onto your feet and you ran towards the door once more. Your brain was clearer than before allowing you to unlock the door this time. But as you opened it, once again, Swiss pushed it closed.

“Clearly I have not broken you yet.”

By the collar of your habit, he pulled you back to give him the space to stand in front of you. His hand, now tightly closed in a fist, backhanded your cheek and all you saw was black.

When you came to, your jaw ached so badly. Your vision was blurred and it took a while to come to. Your hands were held above your head as you lay on your back, a large hand holding them together and restraining you. As your head was turned to its side, you saw Mountain and Rain laying next to each other, still entirely unconscious and unmoving. But you were still being attacked.

Now that you were pinned to the floor, and had been out for you didn’t know how long, Swiss had chance to fully savour you. Your habit had been torn town the middle, exposing you completely to the demonic eyes you were now staring into, those very eyes entranced by the way your breasts bounced from the roughness of his thrusts. His cock was now spearing into you much harder than before, the position allowing him to fuck into you deeper. His pubic mound was grinding against your clit as he pounded away, and for the first time that night you were feeling pleasure with the pain.

“I knew you wanted this.” Swiss said from above you upon hearing the small pleasured whimper that escaped you. “I knew you were a whore who loved getting raped. How you would spread your legs for anyone who offered you a bit of attention. I am not wrong, am I?” You moaned again accidentally, this time louder. “Say it. Tell me how much you love it. Tell him that you love it when he rapes you.” When you didn’t obey, he wrapped his hands around your throat. “Say it!”

“I love it!” You shouted reluctantly. “I love being raped!”

Somehow this wasn’t a lie. Since waking up, every hit against your cervix, every drag of his cock against your walls felt delicious. The demonic black of his eyes, the thick hands that held you down had you spreading your legs wider to let him continue abusing your hole. You were getting wetter and wetter with each thrust, more desperate to cum than ever before. You fear dissipated and was replaced with nothing but cock. The weight of it driving you crazy, the way he used you for his own pleasure and revelled in your agony. How he lowered himself to lick your tears away and bury himself inside you over and over again.

“There you go. That was not difficult. You got so much tighter too.”

Your screams turned from pain to desperation. Your mouth hung open in a perfect O. His cock had broken you, stripped you of everything and turned you into his own, personal toy. You sat up as much as you could to see where you both were connected. You saw the base of his cock was rimmed with white where your wetness had turned to cream and stuck in his pubic hairs. Each pull out of you had multiple strings of your own juices forming and snapping. You could feel yourself spilling out of your hole and running down your body, gathering on the wooden floor below you. Fuck! It felt so fucking good.

“Will you cum on his cock? Will you cum on the cock that rapes you?”

“Yes!” You screamed looking back up into his eyes. “I’m gonna c-cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-!”

The door opened right as your orgasm hit, your mind clouding over and drool dripping from your mouth as you came all over Swiss’ cock. The last thing you remember seeing was Papa Copia’s eyes look into yours in horror as you came like a desperate whore while your close friend took you against your will. Then the world went black.

When you came to, your eyes refused to open at first. Your head was pounding from the physical trauma and there was a deep-seated pain in your core that sent stabbing pains through your legs every time you moved them.You groaned and tried to sit up but your body refused to respond. The heart monitor beside you kept bleeping letting you know that you were, in fact, alive, but also that you were currently in the infirmary. But there was another sound coming from the foot of your incredibly uncomfortable bed. When your eyes finally opened it took you a while to fully process what you were seeing.

Swiss.

In a moment of pure fear, you panicked and tried to move further up the bed, as far away from him as you possibly could. You could feel a scream building in your throat, but your jaw hurt you too much to move it. Even still, your fear didn’t care. Swiss’ eyes were back to normal, and glassy with unshed tears. His face, pale and sickly, stained with the tears he had cried. He looked awful - his veins tinted a little black from the pressure of the demon inhabiting his body.

“Please, don’t scream!” He said quickly. “It’s me again. The demon’s gone.” You wanted to open your mouth and ask him what he was doing there, but your jaw wouldn’t move. “Your jaw isn’t broken, but it’s badly bruised from where I…” He started crying again, burying his head on your bed. “I’m so fucking sorry!” He wept hard, your heart breaking for him every time you saw his shoulders violently shake. “I hurt you so b-bad. I’m so sorry! I d-didn’t want to do any of th-those things. I tried - I tried to stop but it was t-too… strong. It w-wasn’t me!”

Deep down you knew it wasn’t. You knew Swiss would never hurt you like that because he never had. He’d never shown that level of ferocity and violence to anyone or anything. He was the kindest soul in the Ministry - a ray of sunlight the morning after a storm. Before all of this, you would have trusted him with anything, your life included. But even though reason told you he wasn’t the monster that attacked you, your brain still registered him as the attacker. When you saw his eyes before he hid them, you could have sworn for a brief moment they were still black. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was okay and you forgave him even though there wasn’t anything to forgive. But there was such a hesitation. An annoying voice in the back of your head saying “what if”? What if that really was him? What if they didn’t exorcise the demon out? They must have otherwise he’d be in chains in the dungeons right now. So, you reached your hand out and touched his head, gently stroking at his hair. Tears were falling down your face too as your brain replayed the trauma.

When you both had calmed down a little, and Swiss was no longer hiding his face from you, you both sat in silence staring at each other. You were studying his face for imperfections and signals that he was unsafe, and he was studying yours for any hints of fear that should tell him he needed to go. “I know it’s selfish of me being here.” He said. “It only happened yesterday. I’m not supposed to be here. Papa’s going to come and talk to you when you’re feeling stronger, he wants you to decide my punishment.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to punish him.

“Everyone else is fine. Dew has a broken shoulder but he’ll live. Rain has concussion. Mountain’s up and out of the infirmary with no problems at all.” Your mind cast itself back to yesterday, watching Swiss barrel through them and throw them around like children’s toys. How helpless you felt when he was inside you and they were all in the room, knocked out from his attack. How none of them helped you.

“I shouldn’t have come but I needed to see you. I feel so guilty. I…” he hesitated. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I felt everything the de- he did to you. I heard everything, saw everything, felt everything. And you felt so… especially when… fuck! I know I shouldn’t but I keep remembering and my body reacts. I’ve used my hand so many times since but nothing compares to… I need it. I need you. One more time. Please.”

There was a feeling of dread pooling in your stomach again but you could understand where he was coming from. Since you’d been awake and your mind was showing you the images from yesterday, you were also losing your mind. You remembered everything in graphic detail, especially how good it felt when you woke up on the floor. Arousal began to replace the dread and your thighs rubbed together, making you hiss in pain. But the pain and the arousal seemed to control you, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, you nodded your head.

Swiss didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled back the comforter and climbed onto the bed. He lifted up the infirmary nightgown you were wearing and exposed your abused hole to him. You could see his cock tenting through his own nightgown at the sight of you. You were so broken and vulnerable, and it did things to him he knew he’d feel guilty for later on. But he just couldn’t resist any longer. It was like he was addicted to you. To it. “I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.” He told you. He lifted your gown further up to expose your breasts again before pulling himself free and lining himself up. You wanted to tell him to not be gentle, to disrespect you like he had yesterday, but the words couldn’t come out.

Pushing into you, you felt the same searing pain you felt the first time he did. You were so under prepared yesterday and even more so today. But after a few uncomfortable thrusts, the pleasure returned once more, and your hands, now finally responding, flew to his shoulders and grasped on, digging your nails into his skin.

His mouth had hung open and his own grunts and moans were escaping as he lost himself in the pleasure and the memory of your fear. You were deprived of this yesterday - and you were convinced that if you’d heard how good he felt, you’d have given up fighting long before you did.

“You feel even better than yesterday.” He muttered. His thrusts got rougher and you could feel the infirmary bed moving beneath you, groaning at the weight and the intense movement. “I kept thinking about how wet you got. The way you creamed on my fucking cock. I came twice to that thought alone. Fuck!”

Though your jaw was in pain, you were still able to whimper from the feeling of his fat cock railing you in a similar fashion to yesterday. Your own noises kept spurring him on.

“And when you screamed, yelling out how much you loved me raping you. Fucking hell. I want to hear it again. I want to hear you beg me to rape you over and fucking over. I want to keep you speared on my cock and make you cum on it because I just won’t stop raping you.”

You tightened at the thought, which made him let out a particularly loud moan.

“You want that, too?”

You nodded.

“Fuck. You want me to turn you into a little fucking rape toy, hm? A fuck-slut that’s only good for taking my fucking cum against her will. Have you beg me to stop while also sucking my cock back into your little hole.”

You dug your nails in again which prompted his hips to smack forward and whack your cervix.

“I’ll do it. Shit. I’ll find you when you’re out of the infirmary and I’ll force you to the fucking floor. I’ll take what I want from you when I want. You want that?”

You nodded.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum again. I came inside you yesterday too. They had a hard time pulling me off you. I just kept holding onto your hips and railing you into the floor. I’m gonna keep doing it now. Use you as my fucking cum receptacle. Rape a baby into you too. Show everyone who this hole belongs to.”

You tightened and moaned again.

“I went feral when they pulled me off of you and I saw my cum spilling out. Proof that I’d - fuck I’m cu-cumming!”

Once again he pushed himself as far into you as he possibly could and stilled, painting your walls with his seed.

No one else had ever made you feel that good before. The fact that he was recreating the shared trauma also did things to you that you couldn’t quite explain. You knew he was suffering as much as you were, that the guilt was eating away at him in the same way the fear was. Maybe that was why you willingly spread your legs for him this time, because you needed someone who knew to make you feel good.

When he’d finished, he watched himself spilling out of you. “Fuck…” he lamented. “No tissues. You didn’t cum.”

You wanted to tell him not to bother, that a nurse might show up midway through. You knew how bad it would look that the man who’d raped you had come back for seconds not twenty-four hours after the incident. But even if you could speak, he wouldn’t listen.

He bent down and placed his tongue in your hole, licking his cum out of you. He swirled his tongue around your cunt, trying to find the parts of you that would tip you over the edge. Once he’d determined that you were clean enough, he moved up to your clit and sucked. Hard. It was like he knew that his treatment of you yesterday meant that you needed it rough today too, and so he did his best to deliver. He didn’t let up until you came on his face, your own juices spilling out of you. You did your best to muffle the scream that was threatening to come out of you as you tipped over the edge, hyper-aware of the fact that a nurse could come rushing in to make sure you were okay. Swiss knew this too and so finished up as quickly as he possibly could.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You nodded and watched him press a kiss to your temple, completely juxtaposing his treatment of you both yesterday and today before making his exit back to his own ward.

You watched him leave and let your eyes wander around the room. That was when you noticed it and froze in panic. There was a security camera in the top corner of the room… and it had just captured everything.

Kinktober: Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

Hellish Delights:

Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Alright let's start off with the primary points:

1 - You do NOT have to give to get.

2 - You do not have to get to give.

3 - Read everything, there's quite a few moving parts =D

Things You Can Do During This Event:

1 - Request a story from me (see the end of the post for the format!)

2 - You can give me a gift! (see "Gifting Quin" below!)

3 - Reblog this post to be entered into a raffle!

Details below the cut!

Raffle Prizes!

-:- 1,000 words of anything you want (within reason) - can be a one-shot, can be a demand for a specific title (make me work on that title you've been dying to read more of). Just has to be One Piece related.

-:- OC Cameo - I'll plunk your OC/self-insert into a story (that is not the Host Club AU ^^; )

-:- I'll draw something for you \o/ I'm not great, but hey, free art xD

Gifting Quin!

❤️ - Pin 5$ to my shirt - it's a local-ish birthday tradition.

❤️ - Share one of my stories and leave a comment \o/ You can do this whenever, but it really makes my day, so have at!

❤️ - Gift me a story, or some art 😳🥰

Ideas (please do NOT send me saucy stuff on anon or if you're under 18):

1 - Draw a scene from any of the stories you've liked! 2 - Draw Quill - by themself, or with you and/or your OC, or a One Piece character \o/ Quill can be a boy, girl, or whatever mix tickles your fancy. Have fun =D 3 - Draw what you see when you think of "Reader" for any given story. 4 - Re-write a scene for a story =O How would you tell me that scene? 5 - Write me a one-shot using the prompts below 😇 6 - Free form a ficlet, drabble, head canon, series of bullet points with ANY anime character and either a "Reader" or Quill =3 Spread your wings beyond One Piece (Wind Breaker, YYH, FMA, MHA, Habin hotel, etc - go wild 🥰)

Feel free to ask me ANYTHING if you're unsure of something

Birthday Bash Requests \o/

Finally, the part you've all been waiting for XD

*** Anon Requests Will be SFW only ***

-:- Give me some reader vibes as applicable (gender/height vibes) -:- Give me a blorbo (or blorbos) - One Piece only please ❤️ -:- Pick something from each of the lists below and then submit your ask! (any items not specified in the ask will be my choice 😇 cause it's my birthday celebration XD )

Pick 1 Vibe: SFW SFW dark SFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW Consensual NSFW dubcon/dark NSFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW noncon Writer's Choice (please include squicks if you pick dark or dub/non con options)

Pick 1 AU: Canon Universe Mafia AU Fantasy AU Cowboy AU Government Mandated Marriage AU Soul Mates AU Modern AU Hallmark AU Mythical Creatures AU Vampire AU Coffee Shop AU A/B/O AU Monster AU (you can say what kind of monster you prefer) BDSM AU Host Club AU Grandline Metro AU (Quicksand, A Light Touch, Heart of Gold, Thrice Prophesized are set in this AU) Writer's Choice (spin that wheel!)

Pick 1 Prompt: Angst / Bad End Aphrodisiac - sex pollen, drugged food, struck by needle, devil fruit Bath/Shower/hotspring Body writing (icing, ink, blood, etc.) Caught in the Act Contractually Obligated Creature x Human Date / First date Dungeon Erotically charged fight Experienced w/virgin Forced Proximity - box, flight, cell, bondage, get-a-long shirt Friend’s hot older sibling Fuck or die Lazy morning sex Long-Term Established Relationship Only One Bed Outside Pliant When Horny Role-play Roughed Up Size Difference (I write this a lot, but I do love it.) Soft/Comfort Sugar daddy/mama The hat rule They were… coworkers/neighbors/etc. Trapped in a Room Trying Again (exes getting back together) Unresolved sexual tension Wounded Writer's Choice

***Requests will be accepted from 6/1 - 7/10 - and posted from 6/1 - 7/31***

Gifts are accepted from 6/1 until whenever \o/ Don't feel pressured to get them in by 7/20 🥰

[asylumdweller]

summing up my dol charas, starting with my npc, Vincent the Office Worker

(NONCON WARNING,, this guy is kind of intentionally supposed to be very uncomfortable so ig. read with caution?)

• well.

• that is his name

• but before he had one @pip-n-chips suggested i call him mo lester so me and my server have collectively been doing it out of habit ever since then

• late 20s

• the idea came to me in a dream

• hes a bus molester. he takes advantage of doltown's authoritative Lack of Giving a Shit to molest and occasionally rape people on his bus to and from work.

• complete stuttery doormat of a guy with a lot of people aside from his victims

• horribly pathetic. not at all bad looking but probably a kylar situation where he doesnt usually get a taste of his own treatment bc of his Rancid Vibes. like they glare at him and he almost starts sobbing and suddenly the rapist is the one whos uncomfortable

• corporate slave but actually pretty okay with it

• comes off as gloomy but despite how anxiety ridden he is he's actually pretty content with his life. finds comfort in routines

• pretty boring outside of the whole molester thing ngl. like he takes care of houseplants and dabbles in cooking and the most exciting thing he does when he leaves his house is going to the new cafe down the street

• delusional. predisposed to forming a sort of parasocial attachment to whoever his favorite victim is

• this could escalate into. research. for going out of his way to seek them out and if hes enabled enough or things escalate to where he gets worse, eventually abducting them to his apartment to live out his lil domestic fantasies

• his type is mostly people who are shy, submissive or innocent to some degree, but not necessarily. really just anyone he can find cute in some way

• has the biggest, grossest praise kink. like straight up cooing in their ear that theyre such a good boy/girl while he violates them. get to Apartment Abduction Status and hes coddling and spoiling them

• i want him dead

couldnt find a picrew that captured his energy and i cant get him to look right when i draw him so heres this lovely very silly drawing that pippy has made of him and his fem counterpart lol

here is aNOTHER lovely drawing of him by @ashersanity

[anxiousgaypanicking]

how um. Bad is the noncon in hunger hurts..

uhh i dont really know how to rank it on a scale

its not like begging/pleading for it to stop. its more like coerced consent? kind of? i tagged it noncon because theres no yes, but also dubcon because theres not really a no? if that makes sense?

if youre worried its too much - which is completely and totally okay - then i would recommend not reading it. if youd like to try, feel free! if you need to drop it off at any point, thats okay too.

there's never going to be a moment in that fic where its like crying for it to stop, its just for the first bit its going to be coerced/begrudging/hypnotized consent, or no clear yes/no given, if that makes sense.

as of right now, chapter 2 is the only chapter with sexual content in it, so if you havent read chapter 1 i think itd give you a vague idea how the overall tone will be.

if youd like a better example of the vibe im going for, id recommend mercy no more by hypenotized on ao3. theyre who i wrote this fic for, and thats why its so uncharacteristically heavy compared to something id typically write (i value consent in all of my work, this was an exception as it was a gift for an author i really enjoy). mercy no more in particular though is where im drawing a lot of my more morally grey/immoral elements from though

hope this helps! and if it doesnt/you want specifics feel free to dm me or send another ask. the last thing i want is for anyone to be uncomfortable <3

[quietwingsinthesky]

I know you reblogged the post about people being like "fictional cannibalism is deep and intellectual and fictional incest is disgusting and morally wrong" some time ago, but I just wanted to add that it’s absolutely insane how people are calling every piece of media that isn’t wholesome and unproblematic nowadays a direct reflection of the creator’s secret deviant fantasies à la "check their hard drive". Like where does the line between getting called a genius and a master satirist and being labeled a disgusting pervert lie? Whenever I see someone make absolutely nonsensical comments like those all I can think of is Vladimir Nabokov getting canceled and chased off the internet in 2023 after writing Lolita lmao. Seriously tho. Especially in the spn fandom, how can people make posts about loving the fucked up family dynamics and the body horror and the psychological terror and the abuse parallels etc and then fall over themselves to put wincesties DNI DNI DNIII all over their entire blogs lol

My take on it is basically that the line people draw between what’s “morally” acceptable to write about or not is really just what they enjoy. That’s why this stuff usually comes down to shipping nonsense, it’s just fandom flame wars in a different trenchcoat. It’s also why you’ll get dissonant opinions like ‘incest is bad and we can’t write about it’ and ‘gore and murder is just fine to write about.’ If someone enjoys writing about their thing, however dark, and can understand why they enjoy writing about it, of course they’ll give it a pass, but other people’s dark things? that they don’t like, don’t understand? Must be evil. Must be disgusting.

(Plus, obviously, there’s probably something to be said about how in ‘incest vs cannibalism’, one of these is going to be assumed to only be about Sex and Perversion, while the other is obfuscated around sex, sometimes a display of desire but easy to deny that at the same time. Which is not to say that writing about incest is even always about sex, only that it will be perceived as such, no matter what you’re actually trying to discuss in your work.)

All that to say that of course it’s ridiculous to assume that someone’s writing or hell, even their internet persona, is reflective of their desires. I’m ace as fuck and get nervous if I don’t have explicit permission to hug someone, and I also have and will write noncon fic. There’s no secret there, nothing hidden that’s gonna lead to me hurting someone. I just enjoy writing impossibly huge power imbalances. I like squeezing characters like stress balls.

The “Wincesties DNI” thing still bothers me to this day. Maybe because I’m not sure where I even fall on that line. I follow wincest blogs, like their posts, I’ve written I think 2 or 3 wincest fics? But I rarely participate in it or reblog stuff here. Am I a wincestie? Am I tainted by association in such a way that I might as well be? Does “Wincesties DNI” mean actually all incest shippers dni, or are you secretly telling me you’re cool with Jo/Ellen, or did you just forget in the midst of your ship war that other interests exist. I don’t usually follow blogs that announce that, but that’s more because putting that label there just tells me even if I passed the test on that specific thing for you, you’re not gonna be cool about all the other weird shit I post lmao.

(I want to stress, I think there’s a difference between “Wincesties dni” and “wincest dni”. I think that asking people to not leave tags on your posts or comments on your work referencing an incest ship is a valid boundary to have. If that content is triggering to you or just not your vibe, I think you should be able to say, ‘hey, not here.’ That is very different than going ‘if you are a part of this group or ever interacted with this group, get away from me.’ Especially in a fandom where. I mean. Sam & Dean being weird is in the text. It’s a huge part of the show to the point of being referenced repeatedly in-universe, it’s a famously huge part of the fandom to where wincest built the very ground (AO3) we all walk on, and I just think that if you walk into a gay bar, you really shouldn’t complain so loudly about all the bears you see.)

[bluebunnysart]

About this blog (rules/guidelines)

Hi! This is a safe space where I (Bunny) put my art and talk about fandom stuff sometimes if I feel like it. Here are some rules (of thumb) so I don't have to repeat or explain myself too much. ^^ (Five)

FUB free (follow, unfollow, block free). I don't care about notes or number of followers, and I draw/post what I like, so if you ever stop vibing with anything I do, you're totally welcome to jump ship and I won't hunt you down/remember your face and be mad/sad about it. In this place you're stuck with me, not the other way around, and obviously you can leave if you want to. xD It's my blog.

Do not be mean or rude to anyone, including me. This includes attacking/interrogating my or other people's headcanons, or insulting others, including other ships. If you hate a ship, I encourage you to censor the name before you trash it, but I don't really want to see that myself. Also, if I see you participating in harassment campaigns or dogpiling someone, I'm blocking you. Yes some people have terrible takes, but unless they're threatening/loudly inciting harm against others, there's no need to put someone (usually a minor/kid) on blast and essentially bully them. Let people be wrong sometimes without doing the internet equivalent of mauling them to death like a dog. That disgusts me even more than the original opinion most of the time, so cut that shit out right tf now. Dogpilers really tick me off unless the person has a nuclear level bad take (like promoting rape, which most people AREN'T doing), so please talk to people like an adult or scroll past if it's just a harmless difference in opinion.

No NSFW, no proship, no hate/weird stuff. I won't be posting any of this stuff and I don't want to see it. If you're into incest, grooming (immoral age gap relationships), rape/noncon, abuse/domestic violence, misogyny, racism, homophobia, Zionism, etc. etc., then please don't interact with me. I don't really care if you like NSFW but don't be weird about it to me-- I'll probably block you. I can't even enter any space without seeing an (unfunny) NSFW joke like once a day, so I specifically don't want that here. (Give me a break lol.) I'll just ban it all completely-- if you want it, you won't find it here. 😂 (I might make a mildly suggestive joke like once a blue moon, but only 'cuz I think it's funny enough to make and go through with. I'll tag that if asked but I'm not planning to go overboard at all, dw.)

You may use my art as long as it's not for hate/AI training/reposting on tumblr and pretending it's yours/negative things. Credit is appreciated but not required. You can crop it for roleplay reasons (I've done that before) and I guess you can edit it, but please don't do anything weird with it like changing it for an agenda or being mean to people with it. I don't assume people will use my art or anything, but I'm just putting that out there 'cuz I'm personally fine with it. Icons and the like, idk. You don't have to ask for my permission-- my art will be free for non-commercial use like Miku. 😇 If you do something super elaborate with it though, I'm kind of curious and would probably like to know. xD (Not forcing you though as long as you don't claim my art is yours/belongs to you/was made by you.) I'm sharing my art with you out of kindness, so please don't do anything weird with it or trash my stuff. 🥰

This is lowkey an echo chamber/fandom archive where I yap to my heart's content, but interacting with me is fine as long as you're not weird/entitled about it! ^^ I love reading nice tags! Nobody's perfect, so if I ever do anything wrong, I would greatly appreciate that being pointed out to me privately and I'll amend my ways. I genuinely do not want to be a hypocrite or hurt anyone, so I appreciate people NOT coming at me combatively/assuming the worst of me and making my own space unpleasant for me. Rude messages will be deleted and I don't block easily, but if you tick me off enough, I will genuinely block you. I may take a while to reply but that's because I'm busy. However, this is not an invitation to invalidate what I like/claim it's problematic or immoral when it literally isn't (I'm open to discussions about it as long as it's in good faith/isn't forcing me to explain myself for existing or liking things). You can just dislike certain things without moralizing everything; it's okay to dislike things, but not everyone (especially the ones who like it) wants to hear about it. You can dislike something for literally any reason and it's your right-- what's wrong is imposing your dislike on other people when other people aren't doing anything wrong, so please don't do that or you will get blocked. It's fine to call certain things out but many people need to be reminded that they're talking to another human, and not everyone has the same upbringing or understanding of the world. Don't bully/harass each other.

I may add more if I need to, but I think I don't.

Please respect my boundaries/be kind or at least civil to me and I will do the same to you. Thanks!（＾∀＾●）ﾉｼ

[delta-lethonomia]

For the q&a - 1, 5, and 9!

ooooh! Thank you! I ended up going out for dinner so took a while but I'm ready for this *cracks knuckles*

Have you written scenes (sex or otherwise) that actually made you feel uncomfortable, and how did you deal?

Hmm. The Age of Authenticity was definitely....something...to write. There's an Anal-to-Vaginal scene that made me feel like shit tbh but that was the point. There are a lot of noncon scenes that are written primarily to titillate (i.e. "oh no, he's forcing me to orgasm! Via pretty regular if slightly kinky sex, and my only objection is time/place/ethics etc!) so I deliberately wanted to write something that was about power, as rape is about power and not uncontrollable sexual attraction (as too many people claim), and I think that scene definitely hit that mark for that reason.

Other than that, Tav absolutely says some shit sometimes in For All the Wrong Reasons that I would never say, and trying to put myself in Astarion's shoes while listening to that can be an experience for sure. With both, my goal is to be uncomfortable, because that's the interesting part and one of the values of fiction - it's putting yourself mentally in situations and predicting what would happen. End of the day, life throws you in situations you may have no control over - death, sexual assault, natural disasters, workplace sexual harassment etc - and fiction gives us a safe place to play with that, to flex our empathy and imagine how others might deal with it. If my own writing makes me uncomfortable, I think I'm doing something right. I've definitely taken a break afterwards though 😅

5. Who's the sexiest non-human character in your current fandom? (must actually diverge from human sexual characteristics - no elves or asari)

Ok so the Emperor -

no that's the basic bitch answer. However. However. Would. (His slutty waist and long tentacles are very impressive.)

The real monsterfucker answer is Gnoll Fang Of Yeenoghu. Skull mask? Hot. Animalistic vibes are off the charts. Int is a 10, so we pass the Harkness test, and according to google female hyenas can wield an 8 inch clitoris, so you can't tell me they're not hung. Perhaps we may even encounter a knot? Hyena's are closer to cats though.... either way give me a muzzle and we'll have a great time

9. Who/what are your inspirations for truly fucked up content?

Honestly I'm very hard to please with fucked up content 😅 There's some phenomenal Cazstarion fics out there that really inspired wrong reasons a ton (shocker), but... I like happy-ish or at least bittersweet endings? I don't like melodramatic torture porn where the lead character has their personality or will ground to the dust. There needs to be some hope or chance of escape at the end. I have a really hard time finding what I actually want to read tbh 😅 so at least for the fics I've been writing, it's all just the afformentioned Cazstar oneshots (on my bookmarks page) and the things that Lehanan Aida(@LehyScraps) on twitter draws. Her art is just 🤌🤌🤌

I would like to write some real monsterfucker stuff though. There was some xenomorph art that lived rent-free in my brain during my teenage years, so I'd like to do something with that someday.

[duskamethyst]

mistakes.

a/n: totally for self indulgence... don’t know how is this gonna do though since i’m not sure if a lot of people has caught up with the manga but i’m pretty sure the fandom has seen him at least once and instantly thirst for him. so, idk what colour his eyes are (i can see blue but fanwiki says green so i stuck with that and in between). this comes with a package of me pointing out how big and buff he is and idc if you’ll get annoyed over it.

word count: 6.1k

genre: AU, nsfw, smut, angst if you squint

warnings: DARK – NONCON, coercion, corruption kink, daddy kink, size kink, choking, mind break, breeding, face fucking, slight dacryphilia, spitting, age gap, degradation, virgin reader, dilf toji manhandling reader

pairing: toji x f!reader

languages available: vietnamese.

summary: you want to surprise your bestie, megumi upon his arrival home from college but things take a terrible turn.

one.

heavy rain starts pouring as soon as you’ve reached the front doorstep of the fushiguro’s household. it was a dumb idea to not bring an umbrella with you despite the sky already starting to get dark when you left home earlier, but you were willing to push your luck and started sprinting once you felt prickles of droplets landing on your skin. with a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the heavy downpour from soaking your clothes.

drawing a deep and relieved sigh, you take a moment to regain control over your breathing before knocking the big front door. aware of the aftermath of the run, you fix your hair with your hands as you wait for megumi to come and greet you. 

college made you and the male to part ways until phones were the only thing that kept you both up to date with each other’s lives. ironically enough, that’s the thing you forgot to bring when you left home in a rush and excitement to surprise your dear friend since he’s coming home today. you can vividly remember the last text you read; he was at the train station and you had to estimate the time of his arrival and the time he would be at home instead of asking him.

however, you’re caught slightly off guard when a different man opens the door for you instead. nonetheless, your lips curl to a sweet smile and there’s a brief of awkward silence before he speaks. you know him, but he doesn’t seem to remember you at all.

“you’re..?” with a tilt of his head, he looks down at you with a curious brow. 

“it’s me, mr. fushiguro!” you offer your name, scrutinizing the expression on his face as his forehead crinkles while he jogs through his memories. then he glances at you and away in thought and back at you again with wide eyes when he finally recalls.

“oh, it’s you!” he ruffles your hair, a bit too enthusiastic in spite of his usual character that you were always familiar with. “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

you let out a little laugh, “yeah. i think i was fourteen the last time i saw you, mr. fushiguro. but it’s nice to see you again.”

“ah, yes. i had to go out of town and overseas for business a lot.” toji explains, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly bashful that he didn’t recognize the girl– no, woman before him even when you both have met plenty of times back when you often came to play with his son since you both were still little. 

but can anyone blame him? time works wonders and now the little girl he used to know has grown to be much more mature and gorgeous and so... demure.

“yeah, megumi told me. speaking of him, is he home?” you finally inquire, bringing up the reason why you’re here in the first place. 

two.

“why don’t you come in first? it’s cold outside.” he says before immediately turning around without answering your question. you close the door behind you and follow him closely, also somewhat intimidated when you realize how tall and huge he is– the tight fitting shirt stretches over his wide back and accentuating his physique even more. his arms are toned and popping with veins, not the way you used to remember at least, but you’ve never cared to notice. you’re not certain of his age either, but you’re pretty sure you’d be surprised if you find out.

“do you want coffee or tea?” toji suddenly breaks the silence as you nervously stand in the middle of the room to take a glimpse around the kitchen like it’s your first time being there, completely heedless over his gaze lingering up and down your curves, observing the figure of a girl who just freshly went through her womanhood and your lascivious beauty before he quickly turns around to grab two mugs from the cabinet. 

“anything is fine.” you politely reply, fear of sounding somewhat demanding if you choose your preference despite being offered with choices. 

“come on, you’re giving a man a hard time.” he jokes. “and sit down.”

he’s trying to extend his invitation though intentionally sounding assertive, but when he sees that you are quick to comply and scramble to your seat, he finds it to be... stimulating. at least he knows that you’re docile and he wonders if he could put it to the test. well, doesn’t matter. he will.

“coffee is good.” you smile, interrupting his train of thoughts and he pours the coffee from the pot before walking over to hand you your mug. 

“unfortunately,” he sits down on the chair next to you. “megumi isn’t home right now.” toji puts his lips between the warm mug and softly blows before sipping his coffee. “he wanted to take a short trip to the store but i think he’s going to be stuck there for a while.” he looks out the window to only see pitch black staring back at him along with roaring thunder from the skies.

“oh.” you mutter, taking a careful sip of the hot brew. a little disappointed that you couldn’t see megumi yet, but his dad is right– it’s nearly a disaster outside but you find no point hanging around any longer either.

“is it too bitter? you don’t like it?” his voice laces with concern when he notices your face involuntarily scrunches up at the bitter taste. 

you quickly shake your head, “no, no. it’s fine!” you reassure, afraid that he’ll take offense from the coffee he personally made. “besides, if megumi isn’t here, i–”

three.

“oh, it’s fine if you wait here for him.” he cuts you off. “unfortunately, we don’t have an extra umbrella.” the corners of his lips tug into a comforting smile and you are quick to relax into it. 

you’ve always found toji to be quite frightening when you were young. he seemed like someone who never smiled, always had a sombre and intense vibe to him that no child would be too fond of.  there was no exchange of words between you two, except for your constant brief hello and a smile that you did out of courtesy whenever you bump into him inside his house, even though he never replied anything back. not even a crack on the lips to return the smile. 

but today is different. probably because he finds it easier for him to talk to an adult than a child and you’re relieved that you’re able to humor him in some way.

“so, are you and megumi a thing?” he abruptly asks and glances at you as he sips his coffee.

“no, we’re not!” you titter, waving a hand in dismissal as you bring up the mug to hide your face from embarrassment.

“oh?” a glint of amusement and surprise shines in his green eyes. “are you sure?”

you blink at the question as heat warms your cheeks from the thought of dating your best friend. “yes, megumi and i are just friends. really.” 

“why? because you have a boyfriend?” toji pries, uncaring if he sounds intrusive to you and you only assume that he’s trying to strike up a conversation in some old fashioned way.

you just shake your head and laugh, “it’s not that, either.” 

“hmm,” he props his elbow on the table leisurely, head resting on his fist as he looks at you intently, as if in search of something. “you’re pretty hard to figure out.” 

“what do you mean? i don’t think so.” you smile, bringing up the mug to cover your face again so you can shy away from his intense gaze yet he thinks that it’s endearing and he finds himself grinning unwillingly. 

toji notices how you always try to look away when you get so shy over some simple questions. you’re just oozing with purity and innocence of a maiden and something dark and twisted inside him is craving to violate every part of it. 

“for a start, i can’t figure out why you don’t have one.” he says, tapping his fingertips on the table as his mind is running with sinful thoughts. 

“hmm, maybe because i haven’t found anyone interesting yet.” you finally lock your eyes with his as you answer, not wanting to come off as rude if you keep on talking without looking directly at the man.

“isn’t my son good for you?” he couldn’t care less to be honest; he only plans to test the waters and is even more aroused to learn that you’ve never been touched by a man before and he feels like a wolf that’s just ready to pounce on a lost, little lamb.

“oh, no, no!” why do you have to get so bashful? he’ll fuck you on this table if you don’t stop. “we just don’t see each other that way.”

he’s so lost in his thoughts and carnal desires that whatever you’re babbling seems to go in one ear and out the other.

“then, what do you think of me?” he asks nonchalantly with a smirk plastered across his face.

you blink at him once, twice. “uhh, what?” is he suddenly getting self-conscious? 

“you heard me. what do you think of me?” yet he doesn’t seem like it either.

“umm,” you ponder for a moment as you think of every adjective you can find in your head that wouldn’t come out offensive if you’re going to be honest with him. why would he even ask you such a thing anyways? and why would it matter to him? there’s nothing nice about him that you could exactly pinpoint from the past except for ‘scary’, ‘serious’ and some other things revolving around those.

“i thought that you were kinda... scary?” you blurt unsurely, mentally slapping yourself for even daring to say such a thing to him. unless it’s a vibe that he was going for, then you’d be relieved. 

it isn’t exactly what toji wants to hear but he laughs heartily, “really?” a shiver runs down your spine when he looks at you again, his eyes glimmering with daunt. “but are you still scared of me?”

“uh, no.” you laugh. “you’re actually really nice, mr. fushiguro.” 

“oh, that makes me feel better.” another grin etches on his scarred lips as he draws his gaze to your hands that are tensing and fiddling with your sleeves and your leg is bouncing; a perfect depiction of a trembling lamb cornered in his den– and he’s fucking starving. 

has he got you on edge? are you nervous? good. “but i think you should.”

a lump catches in your throat and your heart drops, “i- what?”

the chair emits a screeching sound and it stumbles backwards as toji abruptly stands up from his seat. sheer panic causes you to rise on your feet too, and your eyes dart to the chair, and the male, back and forth as your mind tries to get a grasp on the situation.

“mr. fushiguro..?” you whisper meekly, taking a step away and around the table as you notice him taking a careful yet threatening inch closer. 

“no, no. i’m not gonna hurt you.” toji (barely) reassures you as he continues creeping on his feet. but the sinister smile on his lips takes out every last bit of faith you had in him and the loud voice in your head keeps telling you to run for the door and never look back– fuck the rain.

 as if he can read through your thoughts, he warns. “but i will, if you run.” 

the smile on toji’s face turns smug when he sees you freeze in place upon his threat. being trapped under the unpleasant situation triggers your fight or flight responses and rapid heartbeat drums in your ears as you stand in trance and trepidation.

“that’s a good girl.” he coos, taking another step forward before you decide to throw a mug at him and dash towards the door as fast as you can. you assume that toji has pushed the table to the floor when you hear a loud thud, followed by his hasty footsteps as he catches up quickly behind you. 

the door that is finally within arm’s reach suddenly changes into a mirage when a strong pair of arms grabs you by the waist and your body floats as it lifts onto his shoulder. the huge contrast between the size of your body and his should let you know; no matter how much you try to resist, he will never budge. yet, your arms and legs still flail around in an attempt to punch and kick him and you’re screaming for him to let you down and just hope that anyone is able to hear your cries in spite of the thunderstorm. 

well, so much for luck.

“ah, ah. you don’t wanna do that.” there’s a mocking and amusing tone in his voice as he advises you. “you should save that energy later. juuust in a bit.” 

“mr. fushiguro– stop–!” you sob, watching your only escape slowly disappears out of sight when he turns to a corner and into a dark room. your body bounces onto a mattress before toji’s huge, ripped figure swiftly looms above yours and ties your hands together with a belt and onto the headboard. at this point, the illuminating lights through the windows are the only thing that aids your vision and you have to rely more on your senses.

“shh,” he shushes you with a finger against your trembling lips. “the neighbors will hear. and if they do, i want it to be because you’re getting fucked so good. so be a good little girl for daddy, okay?”

regardless of being terrified, you find yourself cringing over the nickname he refers to himself. hopefully, he won’t ask you to call him that either. “mr. fushiguro– i– please don’t do this. i- i won’t tell anyone.” 

toji tsks, taking his sweet time to admire your smaller body underneath his– the exposed, soft skin on your neck waiting to be bruised, chest heaving as your breath comes deep and short, and legs pressing together to secure your modesty; though will prove to be futile later. 

“i know you won’t.” his thumb grazes against your lips, mesmerized by its plushness as he imagines it wrapped prettily around his throbbing cock. “are you a virgin?”

you only nod your head, eyes wavering as you look at his darker ones before catching it shine with interest. 

“never had anything inside here?” he asks again, pressing your cunt against the fabric of your pants with his fingers. the dark room makes it hard to see, but your cheeks are turning red from humiliation and you look away before shaking your head no.

“are you sure?” toji’s thumb presses down on your clit and causes your body to shudder apprehensively.

“o-only my finger.” you audibly whisper through the white noise outside. 

oh, how exhilarating. guess the innocent looking ones can be lewd too. don’t you know that a cock would make you feel better? a big cock like his is definitely what you need. just a finger wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you! poor little thing. 

“then i got to teach you a few things, right? it’ll come handy later. boys love girls with experiences.” he promptly strips you off from your pants before carelessly throws it to the ground and kneels between your legs to keep you wide and open for him.

“you like to be touched here?” his finger reaches down to ghost over your clothed clit, observing you with lust filled eyes while you turn away from his gaze and remain unresponsive. “daddy is a very impatient person so i suggest you answer me.”

toji pinches your clit, and your body squirms with an elicited yelp. you can only guess (and hope) that he wasn’t referring to him touching you there but you answer anyway, “y-yes.”

he hums in satisfaction, moving down until his head stops between your thighs and in front of your sex. toji grabs your thigh and spreads them apart before flattening his warm tongue against your clothed bud, causing a shiver to run down your spine and it quickly draws your attention to him.

your face heats up in embarrassment when you see toji’s head dipped in front of your pussy, but he’s only calm and teasing as his jade eyes stare up to lock with yours to look for a reaction.

“you’ve never felt a tongue over here either, hm?” he sneers, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you mentally curse yourself for feeling slightly aroused over his ministrations. 

“just let me go, please.” you try to close your legs, but to no avail when his rough hands push them away.

“you know, if you keep asking for ridiculous things,” toji tuts and grasps your supple thighs hard, nails digging painfully on your skin. “i might have to get rough on you. but you’re a smart girl and you wouldn’t like that, right?” 

“n-no.” you choke and fidget.

“good. because i only want you to feel good.” he offers a gentle smile and kisses the dented mark on your thigh. “so, let’s start over. you haven’t answered me.”

you nibble your lip hesitantly and look anywhere but him, “no.”

“see? all the more reason for me to show you what you’ve been missing out.” he chuckles, tugging your underwear to the side impatiently.

“fuck. such a pretty pussy.” he growls at the sight of your bare cunt. there isn’t a lot of slick yet, but it’s fine, he’ll make you get there. that’s the point of this whole ordeal, right?

your body quivers naturally once you feel the foreign sensation; wet, warm muscle prodding your puffy folds up to your clit and circling on it with the tip of his tongue teasingly as he observes you from below. 

your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are caught between your teeth as you try to restrict your whines from the undeniable pleasure rushing in your veins and he doesn’t stop– your pathetic attempt to deny him and your sentiments only drives him to push you over the edge even more. 

with a harsh suck on your clit, he manages to get you to squeal and you can feel him smirking underneath you. toji flattens his tongue and laps off your juices again before he takes you by surprise when he suddenly slides a finger inside your tight, wet cunt. 

“shh. it’ll feel good, baby girl.” he comforts when he hears you whimper at the pain inflicted and true enough, it soon begins to feel good. you’ve fingered yourself plenty of times before, but it feels different when he does it for you– his finger is thick and long that it reaches deeper than you’ve ever been able to.

toji notices you start to become quiet so he slides in another digit, eliciting yet another sob from you. the warm and moist cunny makes his cock twitch and he finds himself getting eager. your back arches from the bed when toji curls his fingers to stroke the bumpy tissues of your g-spot with every drag.

“feels good, yeah?” he grins arrogantly as your legs tremble under his hold. your breathing has turned erratic and your toes are curling as your mouth gapes in pitiful, broken cries that are just music to his ears. 

“answer me, sweetheart.” he presses down a thumb on your neglected clit, reminding you that he is not keen on being ignored and disputed. 

“y-yes.” you finally choke through pants and shame. though the answer comes out in hesitance, your body is more honest– pussy sopping and eliciting obscene squelches and it’s enough to satisfy him for now. 

your head thrashes side to side as you feel yourself about to tip over but you still refuse to beg toji for a release. 

“hah– fuck!” you whimper loudly when toji oh-so-generously sucks your clit again, fingers pumping faster inside your cunt, making your body feel even more tense with overbearing stimulation before finally pushing you over the edge and you break into a silent scream.

toji laps off your slick before he pulls out his finger into his mouth and licks them clean. 

“that’s a good girl. why don’t you taste yourself?” he climbs on top of you while you gasp for air from the intense orgasm and he easily pulls you into a fervour, sloppy kiss. you can feel the wet slick on his chin and you can taste yourself at the same time as he intertwines his tongue with yours. 

four.

out of spite and vexation, you found courage to bite his tongue hard and toji instantly pushes himself from you, his dark eyes express astonishment and agitation.

“fucking bitch.” he curses as his eyes narrow at you displeasingly before he takes off his pants and briefs to release his cock from its confinements. his cock is throbbing and thick, and you can almost see a trickle of precum on its head. you crumple at the sight as regret and anxiety washes over you.

“don’t worry, it’ll fit.” he says cockily upon the worrisome look on your face. “but since you like it rough, i’m sure you want to choke on it first.” 

“no– i’m sorry!” you shake your head but toji only lets out a scornful laugh as he disregards your pleas and props himself on the knees and over your neck.

toji slaps the tip of his cock on your lips, gesturing you to open your mouth but you purse them into a flat, thin line and refuse to obey. 

“open up. it’s a part of your lesson after all.” he snaps before squeezing your cheeks together. “it’ll get worse if you don’t listen to me.” 

“d-don’t wa-ant to– flea-shh.” you whimper and toji emits a long, deep sigh as he releases his grip. 

“i don’t like repeating myself.” his voice is laced with malice and chills crawls up your spine as his eyes look down at you demeaningly before you slowly open your mouth trepidatiously and wait for his next order. 

“no teeth. i think you’d know that much.” he patronizes before sliding his cock inside your mouth and he hisses as the warmth engulfs his throbbing cock. “that’s it. now, suck.”

and you have no choice but to obey submissively. you slightly lift your head and struggle to take his length as much as you can before running your tongue around to feel each prominent vein.

“i said suck, whore.” he commands through gritted teeth. you hollow your cheeks, compressing his fat cock tight between them as you bop your head up and down. 

“fuuuck, just like that.” toji groans as his hand reaches the top of your head and caresses you softly. you start to pick up the pace, slobbering his dick with so much saliva that it begins to seep from the corners of your mouth and it’s so wet and obscene– just the way he likes it. 

“it almost makes me think that this isn’t your first time.” his head falls back and hips begin to jerk until the tip hits the back of your throat, forcing you to take more than you could. you choke as tears start to well up in your eyes and the bedhead shakes when you try to tug your wrists. 

“what’s wrong? can’t take my fat cock?” he scoffs arrogantly. “you gotta work on your gag reflex, sweetheart.”

the muffles from your throat vibrate against his dick and toji groans in pleasure that he subconsciously rocks his hips, slapping your chin with his balls. your vision has become blurry and breathing becomes harder as you let him abuse your throat and your jaws ache before he abruptly pulls out and you can finally gasp for precious air.

“look at you,” his cock twitches with excitement when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks from your doe eyes and he wipes them away with his thumb, making you flinch slightly, “are you sorry for making daddy mad?” 

toji always tries to articulate each word with appease. it’s never soothing per se when you can sense the threat entwining in his voice and it’s fucking you psychologically.

and it deems to be successful when you’re already trembling in fear underneath him. 

you’re uncertain whether he prefers you to speak or not, but your throat is sore so you meekly nod your head in response. it’s better than nothing, to be honest.

“good. open your mouth.”

your mouth is already parted for air but you assume that he wants to put his cock in again. submissively, yet dreadfully, you open your mouth wider and await for him to shove his cock back in but you’re surprised when toji spits in your mouth instead. 

it’s warm and disgusting; you’re just left gaping and repelled, and you want to spit it out but toji squeezes your cheeks together.

“swallow.” he orders. you quickly brace yourself and close your eyes before cringing as you gulp down the mix of saliva in your mouth and toji releases his grip once he’s certain that you’ve ingested. 

“i could’ve made you swallow my cum but i’d feel bad,” he chuckles sardonically. “what do you have to say?” 

“t-thank you.” you whisper vaguely and he accustoms his face to a simper. 

“good girl.” toji smashes his lips onto yours, yet his eyes are locked with yours ominously for a brief second– a telltale that he expects you not to pull up another stunt before they close as he deepens the kiss. 

obviously, nothing would benefit you whether you comply or defy, not until you’ve catered for his insatiable lechery. but you’ve learned your lesson and although you’re compelled, you finally relent as every ounce of resistance begins to drift from you. 

toji breaks the kiss and shifts lower, peppering greedy kisses on your neck before he catches the soft, chaste skin between his teeth to suck and form purplish bruising marks. he lifts up your shirt over your head and hastily unclasps your bra, causing you to shudder once the cold air hits your exposed breasts. 

large, calloused hands press your mounds before his mouth latches on one perky tit, while the other is tweaked with his fingers. experienced tongue draws circles and sucks punishingly, alternating with the other nipple. the headboard rattles as you keen over the stimulation and your eyes open in dismay when you feel something hard prodding your clit. 

he moves lower and spits on your cunt before propping on his knees to take off his tight shirt– through subdued glow, you can make out the outline of his toned abs and broad chest as his large build towers menacingly in front of you; even when he’s not standing on his feet.

“listen. daddy is going to release the binds, but do you promise to be good?” he asks, smearing the saliva with his cockhead and against your slit.

“yes. i- i promise.” you murmur appallingly; as if you have a choice in the matter.

toji leans over to unrestrain you then he observes you, expecting you to put up a fight but instead, you just remain still underneath him. 

he grins in satisfaction, getting off to the fact that you’ve fallen into submission before he shifts back into his prior position and bends your knees up to line his cock with your hole. a feeling of triumph stirs inside him when he’s reminded that he’s the ‘chosen’ one to defile your innocence.

“stop! it hurts–!” you wail and your hands clench the sheets when you feel toji’s thick cock stretching your virgin cunt slowly, but he ignores you, groaning at the warmth that engulfs him and the tight walls that clenches him as he selfishly pushes through. 

it burns. so bad. your chest heaves rapidly and you screw your eyes shut as your face twists to express pain and uncomfort. “please, please–! i can’t–”

“yes, you can.” his tone is indifferent as he holds you down since your body keeps on wincing until he finally fills you to the brim and he can see a bulge poking on your tummy. 

“fuck. haven’t been inside a virgin cunt for a while.” he mutters under his breath. “now, i know it hurts but i promise you’ll enjoy it. it’s just too bad that you get to have a big cock as your first.” he snickers nonchalantly and leans down closer to your face, making you jolt when you feel it inching deeper.

“if it makes you feel better– you’re fucking tight. just the way daddy likes it.” toji whispers in your ear but you can only freeze in fear and agony.

toji hovers above you, his hands firmly grip the headboard in front of him and he begins to move his hips; thrusting in and out of your pussy. 

your fists clench the sheets harder as a loud cry rips from your throat, “no! it hurts! please!”

but toji doesn’t seem to mind, his cyan orbs stare down at you coldly yet in focus as he relishes over the plush walls clamping down on his cock. 

“stop! stop– i- i don’t want–!” you continuously wail as you writhe in anguish before he suddenly stops pounding and he wraps his hand around your neck instead, instantly drawing your attention to him as he applies pressure in his hold. 

“if you don’t stop whining like a bitch in heat, i will fucking breed you like one.” he warns through gritted teeth, clearly agitated over your act of defiance. 

“you want this. you’re going to love this.” his words are sick endeavours to coerce you into another round of complete submission. 

but what else can you do? toji’s hand is so large that his middle finger and thumb almost reach each other as it clasps around your frail neck and you know he can easily crush your windpipes if he wants to.

“say it. you. want. this.” he seethes.

“i. want. this.” you barely croak each word and they’re slowly influencing your cloudy mind. as soon as he releases you, you soothe the pain around your throat with your hand as you gasp for air.

“fuck. don’t think i didn’t feel you clenching around my cock just now.” he sneers and situates himself again before ruthlessly and steadily continuing where he left off. 

you only close your eyes and bite your lips hard to stop whimpering as you mentally comfort yourself and dissolve every inch of your sanity; i’m going to enjoy it, it’s going to feel good soon, i want this, i want this.

soon enough, toji notices that your muscles have relaxed– suggesting that you’ve finally caved in as pleasure overtakes you so he fucks you deeper and faster before he falls on his elbows and you can feel his bangs tickling your face.

“that’s it, baby. you make daddy feel so fucking good.” he praises between grunts. you can feel the veins on his cock dragging against your walls and he’s right, it feels so good and your lips open in breathless pants.

you find your arms to loosely wrap around his neck and your legs around his waist as if clinging onto him for dear life as toji ruts into your cunny like a feral beast. 

“you like it, yeah? this is what you want, isn’t it?” 

through hazy mind, you can only manage to whimper an audible ‘yes’ as you feel an odd, yet almost familiar knot twisting in your lower stomach begging to snap and your nails dig into the skin of his broad back upon the intense sensation shooting through your body. 

a low, deep guttural sound leaves his throat when he feels your nails sinking and scratching his back– it prompts him to quicken his pace and you can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over, causing your back to arch simultaneously. 

“i’m– i’m gonna–!” you keen as your body trembles in anticipation and your sopping cunt is clenching on his throbbing cock like a vice. 

“fuck yeah. cum on daddy’s cock.” toji urges and nips on the sensitive skin of your neck to tip you over the edge and your pupils blow wide as you break into a scream. despite being your second orgasm for the night, an overwhelming euphoria washes over you for the first time of your life; is this what it feels like? you don’t know, you’ve never had one (at least not from a cock) and your pussy is just fluttering, pulsing and creaming around his cock. 

“hah– fuck. good girl.” 

toji remains to snap his hips, fucking you through your high as you’re left in daze from your orgasm. toji can feel his balls tensing and his thrusts are turning sporadic as he inches closer to his climax. your whines and nonsense babbles are drowned by the feeling of pleasure that’s enveloping him and he doesn’t even have the resolution to listen to you gibbering when your cunny is just milking him, sucking him in like it doesn’t want to let go and he just wants to give what your greedy pussy asks for; to fill it up with his thick load until it’s full and leaking out of you. 

and daddy knows best, after all.

“shit– i won’t be able to hold it any longer. say you want daddy’s cum.” he grunts.

you’ve partly snapped out of your daze when you hear his voice again, and though you can’t see his face that’s already buried next to your head, you’re petrified and it’s making you feel dizzy and suffocated. 

“i– n-no. please not–” you sob through your raw throat.

but toji doesn’t listen and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not because if he does, you know that it’ll tick him off and it’s going to do you more harm than good– but you’re scared and it hurts, that you unwillingly start to snivel again.

“shut up. you’re gonna take it like a good cumslut.” he shoves two long fingers in your mouth, causing you to choke on them.

“daddy’s gonna cum in this pretty pussy and you’re gonna fucking take it.” 

toji’s grunts ring in your ears and you’re able to feel his cock twitching inside you before he finally releases hot ropes of cum– filling up and defiling your womb.

“y-you came inside..” you mumble once he takes out his fingers as you’re left entirely devastated and stupefied. 

“fucking did.” he pants, lifting his body up from you and pulls out his cock to shove back the dribbling cum that’s leaking from your abused cunny with his finger. you would wince but your mind is already numb and your body is sore that you can do nothing but burn holes through the ceiling above.

“don’t look so sad.” the room resonates with his chuckles and he gets off the bed to put back on his pants. toji walks over to the nightstand where a pack of cigarettes await him and he puts one between his lips and you can hear the flicking sounds of a lighter as he tries to burn the tip. 

“i can promise you that other guys wouldn’t be rough as me but one thing’s for sure,” he inhales the tobacco and exhales in a gratifying manner, “that will stay as the best fuck of your life.”

fat tears stream down your cheeks and you curl on your side, protecting your now-ruined-body as you quietly sob and your mind takes you back from how the ordeal even started and causes you to end up where you are right now– and it only makes you cry harder.

toji only lets out an exasperated sigh. he grabs his shirt from the floor and throws it on his shoulder before reaching the door.

“megumi won’t be coming home ‘til tomorrow. he said something about the train and the weather, so you can leave when you’re done. you know your way out.”

you hear the door close shut behind him and you’re left in the dark with nothing but the smell of his tobacco and the sounds of the drizzling rain accompanying you as you drown in your thoughts and griefs. 

how many mistakes have you made today? four? five? or more? 

you’ve lost count and you question yourself over again until you’re no longer able to care.

what’s done is done.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

enjoyed this work? wanna buy me coffee? :)

[cinnamonest]

Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away. 

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over. 

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart. 

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

[hurting-fictional-people]

Whumper 4, caretaker 5 caretaker (doesn't know it's blood)

Is that ok?

Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Caretaker 5: “Let me help you.”

Yeah, of course that's ok :) I'm guessing that the parenthesis was supposed to go before the 'caretaker' and they don't know about the blood? well, I hope that's it because that's what I wrote haha, but if it wasn't, please feel free to send me another ask <3

Also, some content warnings because this one ended up a little intense: implied noncon (didn't mean to write it like that but the vibes are there so), noncon drugging, a very creepy and intimate whumper... there's comfort at the end though!

-

Whumpee should’ve known there was something weird about Whumper. No one could smile that big and talk that kindly without wanting something in return. They just never thought it’d be this.

“Come on, now. I don’t have the whole night. What’s your choice?”

All Whumpee does is close their eyes and shake their head, too overwhelmed to force any words out of their quivering lips.

“Whumpee, it’s not a hard one,” Whumper huffs, and they can hear the annoyance in their voice but they can’t convince themself to say the words. “Do you need me to repeat it to you?”

They don’t, the sound of Whumper’s offer still echoes inside their head, loud and clear.

But Whumper takes their silence as agreement.

“Here’s your choice: you can take these pills and be the entertainment of my party tonight, or I can go snatch someone else to do it. You’ll only stay if you agree, and if you don’t, I’ll let you walk away and never see me again. It’d be a shame though, because everything is ready for you. I’ve been watching you, and oh Whumpee, you are just so… perfect. But, in case you say no, I can always go after someone else. Say… Caretaker? I’m told they are a friend of yours.”

Their heart pounds in their ears, so loud Whumpee is almost surprised Whumper can’t hear it too.

“I can go get them if you want me to. Can’t promise they’ll come out in one piece after my guests finish playing, though. Not like I can promise you. You are far too precious to be permanently damaged, you I can promise to keep somewhat safe. Caretaker on the other hand, not so much. Who knows what those troglodytes could do to them if I give them a free pass?”

Whumper’s laugh fills the basement Whumpee woke up in only minutes ago, bouncing off the walls and making Whumpee’s skin crawl. How could they trust the mysterious stranger who offered them a ride? Why hadn’t they been more careful? Now here they are, locked in a basement with someone twice their size and no hope of escape. If only they’d been more careful–

“Well?” Whumper says, drawing Whumpee’s attention back to those narrowed eyes, glinting with cruelty.

“W-what will you do to me?” Whumpee whispers through the thick layer of fear enveloping their world. “If, if I say yes… what then?”

Their smile is almost as horrid as their laughter. Whumpee shrinks against the wall, pulling their knees closer to their chest. “If you say yes my love, the pills will start working in a few minutes. I will give you a nice new outfit while the drugs do their job and then when you are barely able to walk, I’ll help you up the stairs. Everyone will be so happy to see you, Whumpee.” Their eyes burn, but no tears fall when Whumper scoots closer and touches their hair, gentle fingers brushing back sweaty locks. “And then we will have fun. You’ll barely remember it afterward, but I will remember it forever. You might be left with some sore spots but all temporary. Well, almost all temporary, won’t promise one or two marks for you to remember me later. Maybe a few scratches, some of my friends are remarkably fond of knives. But the point here is that you’ll make anything we want you to, and that’s the real fun.”

“And if I say no?”

“If you say no, I’ll go after your friend. Kidnap them, just like I did you. And when they awake, they won’t be given the choice I’m giving you since it wasn’t them I really wanted. I’ll take them upstairs, and we’ll make them hurt. Scream. Cry. Maybe I’ll record it and send it all to you so you know what fate you chose for them. Now, what's your choice, Whumpee? Tell me.”

As they speak terrible word after terrible word, Whumper’s fingers continue to play with Whumpee’s hair. Twisting and brushing and caressing. Always so soft, so awfully soft in comparison to the nightmares they spit into Whumpee’s brain.

“Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?”

A tear finally escapes, only to be brushed away by Whumper’s touch.

“But don’t worry. If you make the right choice, It won’t be all pain, baby. It’ll be about those big scared eyes and that delightful little quiver on your lip. About how gorgeous you will look when you’re barely able to walk, and how you will cling when you can’t think straight. And I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll take care of you.”

Whumper is right.

In the end, it isn’t a hard choice.

Whumpee closes their eyes and nods at the same time a soft, broken “okay,” slips out of their lips. It doesn’t feel like the lock of a door they were expecting. It feels like taking a step into the void, and knowing there’ll be thorns waiting for them when they fall.

Still, it’s with Caretaker’s smile in their head that they force themself to swallow when two round pills touch their lips. They don’t open their eyes until a bottle of water is held for them to drink from. It is only when there is no more chance for them to break and plead to be let go, even if they want to, desperately, that they let their eyes flutter open.

Whumper is waiting for them with a wide smile when they do.

“Let us begin then.”

And so they do.

Whumper brushes Whumpee’s hair and gently applies makeup to their face. When they ask Whumpee to undress and give them new clothes, they don’t hesitate to obey, and only when Whumper is closing their zipper for them do they realize how faint they feel.

When they are placed in front of a mirror, Whumpee looks at the shiny clothes but forgets what they looked like as soon as they are led away. By the time the door is opened and music first hits their ears, they are leaning against Whumper to keep standing.

They try to climb the stairs. Narrowing their eyes to concentrate, they raise their foot, but the world is filled with blurred colors and too-quick movement, and the only reason they don’t fall is Whumper’s fast hands holding them up.

Whumpee is almost grateful when Whumper chuckles and whispers against their hair. “Easy there, baby. Let me help you.”

They rest their head against Whumper’s heart when they are picked up bridal style, and stay that way until the lighting changes and voices fill the air.

They are placed on the floor, and with Whumper’s help, manage to keep standing, even though the floor refuses to stand still under their feet.

And then there are hands on their hands, squeezing and hurting, and Whumpee tries, they try so hard, but instead of the firm no they want to say, only a moaned “n-hng, I, I, d-don, wha-what’s hap-happe–,” comes out.

And then the world slips away, and though their body still moves, they are barely there anymore to see it.

-

When Caretaker’s doorbell rings, they don’t hesitate to jump out of bed and run to the door. They’ve been sending Whumpee messages all night without response, and concern rings louder than sleep. Only when they open the door and see the sunrise do they realize how early it already is.

And then their gaze slides to the figure leaning against their doorframe, head bowed and shoulders slumped, and their heart misses a beat.

“Whumpee?” Caretaker calls, reaching out their hand.

But before they can touch sparkly clothes they’ve never seen their friend wearing before, Whumpee cowers away. Caretaker retreats, but their heart races even faster.

“Whumpee, what’s wrong? Where were you, did something happen?”

Whumpee looks up, and Caretaker doesn’t need an answer to know what happened. Wide pupils, half-lidded eyes, smudged makeup and parted lips tell them all they need to know.

“Oh, Whumpee.”

There are stains all over their clothes, too. Is it spilled alcohol? Is it vomit?

“Oh, Whumpee,” Caretaker sighs again, taking a slow step in their direction, feeling a sad, involuntary frown settling on their forehead. “What did you do?”

Whumpee follows their steps with their eyes but keeps still. It is only when Caretaker comes close enough for touch and extends their hand that they wince and shrink into themself again.

“Honey, I can see you’re not okay,” Caretaker says as calmly as they can. “Let me help you.”

Another step, and this time all Whumpee does is close their eyes and let out a low whimper. Caretaker sighs again as they help Whumpee wrap their arm around their shoulders and lead them inside.

Whumpee is almost a dead weight in Caretaker’s arms as they help them get into the bathroom, to seat on the toilet and lean back against the wall.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Caretaker asks, crouched down in front of Whumpee.

“I, I, I don– don’t, W-Whum-per. They, they, they did... something.”

“Who’s Whumper, love?”

But all Whumpee does is shake their head no as tears stream down their cheeks.

“Okay, you can tell me later. Can you at least tell me what did you use?”

The look Whumpee gives Caretaker is so utterly lost, that they nearly start crying as well.

“Don’t… kn-know. Pills?”

“How about a shower, and then we talk more, huh?” Caretaker tries, nodding encouragingly. Whumpee swallows, but doesn’t nod along with them. Instead, their eyes dart around the bathroom, searching for nothing.

With a reassuring squeeze on their knee, Caretaker gets into the shower and turns on the faucet. As the water warms up, they take one look at Whumpee’s slumped form and walk over to the mirror.

Clutching the cold porcelain of the sink, Caretaker looks up at their own image in the mirror – tired and disappointed, but also patient. Worried.

“You can do this,” they mouth to themself, “Whumpee needs your help.”

With one last sigh, they turn their head to Whumpee and take a step in their direction. And then a step back, when something grabs their attention at their peripheral vision.

Caretaker stares at their image in the mirror again and feels their heart stop when they see their sleeve stained red. The sleeve where their friend’s arm had just touched.

It isn't alcohol or puke on Whumpee’s clothes.

It is blood.

“Whumpee,” they call, dropping to their knees in front of them. Whumpee jumps and meets Caretaker’s stare with wide, scared eyes. “You are bleeding. Are you hurt? I need you to tell me where you are hurt, Whumpee.”

But all they do is breathe faster and faster, pure helplessness on their face.

“If you can’t tell me, I need to find the source of blood on my own. I’m taking your shirt off, okay?”

Caretaker doesn’t wait for an answer, and Whumpee doesn’t give them one.

They don’t fight Caretaker’s hands when they pull the shirt over their head, even when a pained hiss leaves their lips.

Caretaker holds their breath when they see Whumpee’s bared skin.

Bruises color their entire torso, as well as long crisscrossing welts. Their arms are covered in small, rounded marks that look dreadfully like cigarette burns. Cuts, deep and superficial litter everything, some already closed, some still weeping blood. There’s barely any smooth skin left.

“What happened to you?” Caretaker breathes, searching for answers in Whumpee’s terrified eyes. “Who did this?”

All the answer they get is a soft sob and a cold forehead hitting their shoulder as Whumpee falls forward and nuzzles into their neck.

Caretaker hugs them back, careful not to touch or press on sore skin, feeling their stomach churn when their fingers bump into more cuts along their back.

“I’m here now,” Caretaker whispers against their hair, tears of their own rolling down their cheeks, “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again, Whumpee. You are safe. You are safe.”

They stay like that until the bathroom is foggy from the warm water falling from the shower and Whumpee’s shoulders stop shaking, but when Caretaker helps them undress and oh-so-carefully cleans the wounds, there’s only drowsiness and chemicals behind the fear in their eyes.

They have no idea what they'll do once Whumpee comes to. Or what they'll do to whoever Whumper is if they get the chance.

-

Prompts from this list. Still taking them but I can't promise how fast I'll write it haha

[absolute-flaming-trash-archive]

Don’t Think

I have been having a really shit time recently, so here’s some darkness from the depths of my brain in semi no edit style.

This is also my first attempt at NSFW stuff so go easy on me pls ;_;

Pairing: Hisoka x Fem!Reader

SMUT

Word Count: 786

WARNINGS: 18+, NSFW, dubcon bordering on noncon, mentions of blood, slight exhibitionism, yandere vibes from our resident trash clown

It's just better if you don't think about it.

Don't think about the way Hisoka’s arms flex around your head as he cages you against the wall of the alleyway.

Don't think about the way that his body feels as he presses himself up against you, his hot breath fanning against your cheek as you turn your head to avoid his lips.

His hands feel rough when he grabs your face, forcing your head straight into a bruising kiss. Don’t think about the way your body betrays you as desire begins to pool when his grip on your jaw moves to your neck; the way he smirks into your mouth at the whimper that escapes you, his other hand slipping under your shirt to grope at your chest.

It’s better to obey him when he tells you to not make a sound, teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of your neck as he marks you. Don’t think about the jolt of sick pleasure that gets sent straight to your core when he bites down hard enough to draw blood, his tongue licking up the beads of red that flow from the wound.

Don’t think about how unbelievably hot he looks when he gives you his signature grin, the red staining his teeth making the gold of his irises that much more intense. His grip becomes more possessive at the tears that well up in your eyes. You don’t know if it’s from the fear or the anticipation.

When he commands you to get on your knees, it’s best not to think about how the pavement digs into your skin. He pinches your jaw to force it open as he shoves his cock into your mouth. Don’t think about the way his hands fist in your hair as he hits the back of your throat making you gag, the tears finally spilling over.

Definitely don’t think about the way his moans get louder as he continues to fuck your face, your drool pooling out of your mouth down his length, dripping onto your chest. It’s best to just obey when he tells you to swallow around him and to ignore how your throat is becoming sore from how harsh his thrusts are.

Don’t resist as he pulls you off his cock and drags you to your feet, shoving you back against the wall. Don’t think about his hand as it drags up your thigh and rubs against your clothed cunt. It’s hard to ignore the comments he makes on how wet you are for him. How you must have been wanting him to manhandle you like this based on how you’re practically dripping all over his hand.

Don’t think about how you didn’t even know him before this encounter as he rips your clothes from your body.

He slides his fingers against your slick folds; his eyes never leaving yours as he presses two fingers inside of you, your body flinching at the forced entry.

Hisoka's other hand tightens around your neck once again as you bite back your moans. It’s better to just nod when he asks if you’re going to be a good girl for him as the lewd sounds of his fingers slipping in and out of your squelching cunt echo through the alley.

Don’t think about how you whine when he suddenly withdraws his hand from you core, and definitely don’t think about the way your breath hitches into a chocked sob when you feel him hook one of your legs around his waist and shove his cock into your sopping wet cut, making you thrash against him at the intrusion.

Oh god, don’t think about how good it feels when his cock drags along your walls, his hips angling each thrust to hit that spongy spot inside of you that makes you cry out in breathless moans every time. The way he makes you clench around him when he licks a stripe up your neck to your ear, growling that you belong to him. Your body, your mind, your soul. All of it his, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Let your eyes roll back into your head when he brings a hand down to circle your clit, his back breaking pace never wavering as he continues to slam into your needy cunt. Don’t think about the orgasm that had been threatening to wash over you finally start to bubble to the surface.

Don’t think about the way he hisses from the way you tighten even more around him, the bites he leaves on your neck as he tells you to give in to the pleasure; lifting your leg higher in order to penetrate you deeper.

Don’t think.

Just feel.

Tag List: @prettycutebunny, @shorkbrian

[freefallingup13]

Jaren’s Puppy Masterpost

Basic Info

Summary: Jaren, the leader of a wild, warmongering vampire  coven, likes to keep a few werewolves as attack dogs. Some of the  werewolves the coven keeps - like his favorite “Puppy” Toni - are his personal pets.

CW: This is a pet whump/slavery fic, if I continue to post more of this story there will be dubcon and noncon. Pieces tend to feature dehumanization, dubcon touch(sexual and nonsexual), emotional manipulation, blood (and lots of it), Whumpee is a girl and the Whumper is called “Master”.

This fic can and probably will give off abusive relationship vibes between a male whumper and a lady whumpee. He is fond of her, and does her best not to draw blood, but he will still hurt her and she will be hurt by others as well.

References

Jaren references; Picrew Post Jaren is a man who looks to be in his mid-twenties, and is a vampire that is over three centuries old. He’s a cocky son of a bitch, incredibly sadistic, and rather vulgar, even in the world of vampires. His goal is to dominate the vampire world, be it through negotiation or conquering. Nothing will stand in his way.

Toni references; Picrew Post Toni is a White Wolf; she is a werewolf that, when Shifted to her wolf form, has white fur. Werewolves tend to oust those with this fur color because they are too easy to spot in the night, too easy to pick out in a dark forest. She was ousted for this, and for other reasons. Somehow, she has ended up in Jaren’s possession. He’s fond of her, which makes her life somewhat comfortable, but there’s always the silent fear of what will happen when she starts to bore him...

Cora references; Picrew Post Cora is a “young” woman of average height, her real age being somewhere over a century. She was turned during a raid on a village, and elected to join the Wild coven rather than face death. As the doctor of her former village, she’s taken the position of main “Veterinarian” for the werewolves that the coven keeps. As for personality, she has patience, but due to her importance to the care of Jaren’s “pets”, she is not in any danger of being “taken care of” like other coven members are. This means she can be as blunt and snarky as she likes, always with a deadpan delivery.

Ryan references; Picrew Post Ryan is only a little taller than Toni at 5′8″. He’s a scrawny boy,   thanks to his former life (more to be elaborated in later pieces). He is  a very recent turn, and due to the circumstances, Jaren has appointed him as the one to take care of Toni while Jaren is working around the coven. Ryan takes her on walks so she can get fresh air, takes lessons   with her, and (entirely thanks to Jaren’s “influence”) ensures that   she’s psychologically “safe” and entirely loyal to Jaren. His own   feelings on this are to be determined, at least on the surface.

Headcanons/Worldbuilding

-Jaren and Ryan’s rooms

-Cora’s Family (?) and induction into the Wild coven

-Cora and Ryan’s friendship

-Jaren(?) and Cora’s childhoods

-Toni and comfort

-How do they sleep?

-What’s in a name? (Toni and David)

-David and his whumpers

-Mind Reading and Murphy’s Law (David)

-Jaren and David are workbuddies AU concept (cursed)

-Why Jaren does what he does

-Sharing and Regrets, not both tho (Jaren)

Drabbles

These are in the best chronological order as I can make them in this list, I’ll update it regularly!

>Prologue; Jaren’s Birthday

>First Check Up

>Summer of Whump #1; Freezing

>Teasing Marks

>New Toy

>Fruit Salad (one word prompt)

>Choices

>Kicked

>Knife Play

>More knife play but an AI helped me write it

>Big Bad Wolf

>Feeding the Dogs

>Sick Day (BTHB; Fevers)

Taglist; @emreads

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mr. Self Destruct 3

Part One Part Two

Warnings: Bucky’s a bastard, control, PTSD and other lovely mental issues, noncon (oral, toyplay, restraints, vaginal and anal sex)

This is dark!Bucky Barnes and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary:  Bucky has been left by his closest friend. With no other choice, he works for Stark Industries in the name of both Stark and Rogers but before he can begin his new position, he is mandated to attend counselling. With you, the company’s resident therapist.

Note: I’m just taking a break from Tapestry for a day or two. I wanted to finish this little series first. This is just all the kink and darkness so enjoy. Love you all.

Anyway :) Please like, reply, and/or reblog if you read.

Bucky didn’t show the next day. Even as you finished up with your last patient and waited around an hour. You laughed at yourself sardonically after you’d sat back and realized what you were waiting for. You expected to find him in your bedroom again but he wasn’t there either. He was definitely in control. Not just of the sessions, but your life.

It was the day after when he came around. Your last appointment was at three and you were free by four. You didn’t think to linger. You pulled on your jacket and grabbed your bag. You left behind your leather folder. You wanted to hide for as long as you could. Just until he came to haunt you again.

He was there in the lobby. You spotted him the moment you stepped off the elevator and he saw you too. You could tell he’d been expecting you. You tried to act as if you hadn’t seen him but there was no pretending with him. He reached the front doors before you and blocked the revolving escape. You slid to a halt on your wedged boots.

“It’s shitty out,” He said. “You need a ride?”

“No,” You glanced past him. “I’ll catch a train.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like a question.” He chuckled. “We’ve got a stop to make before we hit your little hole.”

“And if I refuse? Huh? You gonna hit me in front of all these people? You gonna drag me out kicking and screaming?”

“I won’t have to do that.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “One minute, let me turn the sound off here.” 

He flicked his finger across the screen before he turned it to you. You watched yourself on the screen, the uneven angle as the lens peeked out above a stretch of fabric; likely his pocket. It was you with your little silver bullet against your clit. The camera got closer and only your moans could be heard as the focus blurred between your bodies, the flash of his vibranium hand blocked it.

“Seems unprofessional to me,” He smirked. “I think Happy might agree. Maybe the licensing board too.”

You stared at him and reached to zip up your thick jacket. You nodded to him and pushed away his phone. “Just...let’s go.”

He leaned in as he tucked the phone away, “Good girl.” He slithered and your skin crawled. 

He backed away and waved you after him. You sighed and followed as he led you to another door. This one led to the attached garage along the side of the tower. He didn’t wait but strolled decisively through it and down the steps to the tarmac. You held the rail as your boots threatened to catch on the stairs.

A dark blue car chirped as he neared it and he opened the door. He dropped inside and you pulled open the passenger side door as he turned the engine. You slipped your bag in front of the seat as you sat and shut the door with a click. He backed out of his spot before you even had a chance to do up your seat belt.

“Can I ask where we’re going?” You ventured.

“You can,” He kept one hand on the wheel as he leaned casually on the console. “But you won’t have your answer til we get there.”

You bit down and lowered your chin. He was drawing it out as long as he could. Whatever he had planned. Whatever new humiliation he had devised. And you had no choice but to bear it. To feed from the hand that would close around your throat and choke the life from you. And if that failed, it would wrought the destruction of the little you held dear.

You kept your eyes down as he drove. The city was pale and lifeless as winter descended upon the fluorescent giants. The street lights loomed over the sidewalks and the mailboxes formed little hills beneath the snowy blanket. You touched your forehead as your vision blurred. The grim vision of the urban sprawl made it all too real.

When he pulled into the small plaza, you were confused. The little convenience store that advertised the lotto jackpot and Marlboro's was nothing special and you doubted he was taking you to the small Vietnamese eatery for dinner. Your eyes found the darkened shop nestled in the corner; a red sign flashing above XXX. No way.

“Out,” He turned off the car as he reached for the door handle. “Stop dragging your ass. I’d like to be out of this shit before it’s past my ankle.”

You climbed out of the car but forgot your bag on the floor. You tucked your hands in your pockets as the flakes gathered in your hair. He rounded the front of the car and whistled to you like a dog as he marched to the tinted windows of the sex shop. You shook your head and trailed after him.

You caught the door behind him and let it close heavily. You looked around at the mannequins in lingerie, the silicon and rubber toys lined along the shelves, and the explicit covers of porno DVDs. A woman with bright red hair greeted you from behind the counter and Bucky returned her cheerful hello. You stayed quiet and followed him.

You weren’t a prude but the last time you’d been to place like this was with your ex-husband. Nothing special, some lube and a cockring for him. You had mulled over a leather garter with studs but left empty-handed. A pathetic attempt to revive a dead relationship.

Bucky grabbed a mesh basket from the stack next to the counter and led you to the wall, though he seemed to have forgotten about you. He tilted his head at the vibes and narrowed his eyes. 

“I doubt you need anymore,” He scoffed.

He moved on and stopped sharply at the next display. He unhooked a leather crop and waved it through the air. He dropped it in the basket and you stared at its handle sticking out. He grabbed another item; a leather collar and matching leash, and added some straps to slip beneath a mattress.

“Bucky…” You said quietly as you grabbed the basket. “You don’t want to do this.”

He grinned and licked his bottom lip as he turned to you. “You don’t know what I want but I can show you.” His blue eyes bore into you. “You want me to deal with my control issues, this is how I deal, doc. And beneath all your repression, I know you want it. Your top drawer can’t hide it.”

You cringed and threw your hands up. “Call it therapy but it’s not that. This isn’t coping, this isn’t addressing the issue, this is feeding it. It won’t help.”

“You’re off the clock, doc,” He carried on along the shelf. “Give it up.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. You tried to avoid looking at the toys, instead focusing on the price tags; pretended it was a grocery store or anywhere else. You looked up as he grab a set of plugs and quickly lowered your gaze again. He stopped and turned back to you.

“You wanna pick out some lube,” He still had the plugs in his hand; a kit, smallest to largest. “You’ll thank me for it later.”

He dropped them in the basket with the rest and spun back to the merchandise. You took a deep breath and glanced around. You crossed to the pyramid display of lubes; hot and cold, flavoured, scented, sensitive skin… The red-haired woman grinned at you as you peeked over at you and you smiled shyly and turned back to the oils.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” She asked as she neared.

“No, I… I have a sensitive ecosystem,” You offered. “Don’t really know what to pick.”

“Something water-based,” She advised as she reached to the rack. “This stuff’s good. It’s flavoured but shouldn’t cause any issues.” She smirked and looked over as Bucky scratched his head before a shelf of dildos. “Does he prefer sweets?”

“I guess,” You answered softly. “I’ll just take the strawberry. Everyone likes strawberry, right?”

“He seems open to a lot,” She commented. “You get half-off this brand with the plugs anyways.”

“Oh, thanks,” You grabbed the strawberry lube and smiled. 

You parted from the nosy cashier and crossed to Bucky as he moved onto the back corner. He turned and caught your hand before you could drop the bottle in the basket. He wrestled it from your grip and read the label. 

“Mmm, strawberry.” He remarked as he let it fall with the rest of his haul.

You wanted to cover your face and curl into a ball. You were mortified. He stopped before the mannequin in a strappy leather number with no real coverage. Tits out and everything else; ass framed by the thick straps. He raised his brows as he admired it.

“Find your size,” He pointed to it. “I know you’re probably more a lace woman but I think this will be...fun.”

He didn’t wait for a response. You sifted through the stack of plastic wrapped lingerie and fished out your size. You caught up to him again and he took it from you without a glance. He led you to the counter and plopped the basket on it.

The red-head began to scan each item at a time and filled a big black bag with them. Bucky tapped his gloved fingers on the counter as he waited. She smiled between you. “Special occasion?”

“You could say that,” Bucky answered. 

The woman giggled and hit total. Bucky reached for his wallet and swiped his card. He seemed unfazed by the exorbitant amount he’d just spent on sex toys. He took his receipt and his bag with a smile and a thanks. He grabbed your arm and pulled you close as he led you to the door.

“Now,” He said as he pulled open the door. “We’re ready.”

-

Bucky grabbed your keys from you as you walked up to your door. He unlocked it with one hand and ushered you inside with a point of his finger. You entered and he was close behind. You unzipped your coat as he set the bag aside and kicked off his boots. He hung his jacket over yours and you struggled to wiggle free of your own boots. 

He grabbed the bag again and urged you onward. When you reached your bedroom, his patience had worn thin. He shoved you in and closed the door with his foot. He placed the bag on your dresser and stirred through the contents. He tossed the lingerie at you and looked to the bathroom door.

“Go on, I’ll get it all ready.” He said. You didn’t wait for him to tell you twice.

You hid behind the door and stripped yourself slowly. You could hear him moving around on the other side. It took you several tries to untangle the straps and when you were certain it was correct, you stared down at your body. The straps were set in triangles around your tits and crisscrossed down to your crotch; another exposed vee. Your ass was propped up by the leather and you twisted as you tried to see it.

A rap of knuckles on the door and you swallowed. You opened it and Bucky raised a brow as he nodded over his shoulder.

“Go on.” He ordered and you stepped past him.

He grabbed the bag of toys and as you stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. He went into the bathroom and the sink cranked on. The straps had been secured, the leash was laid out, and only your bottom sheet remained on the mattress. Your head spun.

“Your ass looks great in that,” Bucky said. “Turn around.”

You turned and he looked you up and down. He neared and set his handful of toys on the night table. He stepped back and slipped his fingers beneath the straps along your shoulder. He rubbed them with his thumbs.

“Look at you, doc,” He purred. “You should start wearing this for our sessions.”

Your jaw tensed and you said nothing. He seemed amused by your visible irritation. He let go and reached for the leash strewn on the bed. He unbuckled the collar and spun back to you. You braced yourself as he wrapped it around your neck and secured it there. He tugged on the leash and you winced.

“Even better.” He let the leash hang limp and backed away as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Go on and get on your knees.”

You did as he said. You almost fell over as you did and stared at the carpet as he unzipped his fly. You listened to the rustle of his clothing. When he neared, he was entirely naked and it took all your strength to look up at him. He bent and grabbed the leashed again.

“Come on,” He pulled and you fell forward onto your hands. He snickered and led you around the room. You moved stiffly; thoroughly embarrassed. A literal dog. “It was like Pavlov. I know you’ve heard of him. They had words that they conditioned me with. Like sit.” He motioned and you lowered your ass. “Good girl.”

You trembled in anger. He wrapped the leash around his hand and pulled you closer. “Up. On your knees.” He yanked until you were almost against him. His cock bobbed before you. “Go on and get your bone, doggy.”

You glared at him and he thrust so that his cock poked you in the face. You flinched and lowered your eyes. You parted your lips and poked your tongue out to drag it along his length. You swirled around his tip and he twitched. You covered the head of his cock with your lips. His other hand went to your head and pushed you further.

He hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You barely fought it back as he forced himself deeper until your lips were against his pelvis. You reached to grip his thighs as you struggled to breathe. He relented but quickly crashed back into you. You slapped at him and clawed at his thick muscles. Your loud gulps filled your ears and added to the churning of your stomach.

He moved his hips in time with your head. He fucked your mouth steadily as his groans floated from him. He was like an animal, rutting into you faster and faster. He was fed by the noises of your distress; his power over you. Your body was his to use as they had his.

He sank as deep as he could as his thrusts slowed. He spasmed and grunted. A carnal growl. He came down your throat as your head swelled from lack of air. He held himself at his limit until he was done. He tore you off of him, your leash taut as he kept you from slumping over. His cum dripped from your lips with your spit.

He yanked you up to your feet and dragged his thumb through the mess along your chin. His hand slipped down and stretched over the collar. He unhooked the leash and let it fall to the floor. He backed you up until your knees met the bed.

He shoved you and you fell onto the bed with a bounce. He climbed up after you and pulled on you until you moved. He shoved your wrist into a restraint and secured it tightly. He did the other and then your ankles. He knelt between your legs and tweaked your nipples roughly. You whimpered and he snarled in delight.

He reached to the night stand and grabbed the bottle of lube. He squirted the cool oil between your legs and shoved his fingers down to spread it along your folds. He lifted a brow as he found you wet. He chuckled.

“Oh, doc, you can’t hide it. Not from me.” He continued to rub you and you tried not to squirm. “Maybe that’s the problem, hmm? Did you hold back with the husband? That why he left?”

You bit your lip and looked away from him.

“All you wanted to do was talk but you sure are quiet now,” He taunted and dipped his fingers inside of you.

“He held back,” You snapped. “I left him, okay?” You tried to close your legs but couldn’t move against the restraints. “Cause he didn’t wanna fuck me anymore.”

“Good riddance, then.” 

He pulled his hand away and leaned over to grab the dildo he’d chosen from the bunch. It was big and thicker than any you owned. He placed it against you and slowly pushed inside. You gritted your teeth as it stretched you. He stopped as it filled you entirely and you gasped.

Slowly, he began to work it in and out of you. You gripped the straps as your body tensed and your breath hitched. He sped up as he sensed your pleasure mount. As you desperately fought against it. As the moans escaped you and betrayed you to him. Soon, he was slamming the dildo into you as your voice rose without thought.

You came with a curse. You squeezed your eyes shut but could sense his satisfaction. He gloated as he continued to fuck you with the toy. The squelching filled the room and your head. He stopped and let the toy slip out on its own.

“When you did fuck,” The bed shifted as he spoke. “Was it boring? Did he even try?”

“I… Early on, he did. And then, I guess he just didn’t care so long as he came.” You said quietly. 

You’d never told anyone the true troubles of your marriage. You’d fed them all the excuse of too much time apart for work and too many differences. It was all true but the lack of intimacy was the worst of it.

“And did you ever…” He paused and you opened your eyes. He held up a plug and your mouth fell open. “Try anything… new?”

“No,” You said as you eyed the toy. “No, please, I never…”

“We’re starting small,” He coaxed. “Tell me you didn’t divorce that moron to fuck yourself with that pathetic bullet every night.”

You stayed quiet as he undid your binds one at a time. He turned you over and you didn’t offer much resistance. Couldn’t. He was too strong. As he strapped you down on your stomach, you raised your head.

“Are you… recording this too?” You asked as you tried to look at him behind you.

“If I am, it’ll be for my own pleasure,” He assured you. “But I already have more than enough footage, doc.”

Your dropped your head back to the mattress and huffed. His knees pressed against you thighs and a cool trickle seeped between your cheeks. He spread it with his metal fingers and circle your tight ring. It tickled and you flinched. He pushed against your hole and slowly his finger stretched you.

He drew his finger in and out several times as you hissed. It hurt but it wasn’t an unbearable pain. Something about it was delicious and you hungered for more. He shoved another finger inside and you dug your nails into the sheet. You grunted as he played with you.

He pulled out and for a moment, silence. The cap of the lube flicked and you felt a new pressure against your ring. Harder, colder. He pushed the plug in little by little. You whined until he had it in entirely and your ring closed around the stem. You head lolled back and forth as you moaned.

“I always knew you were a tight ass, doc,” He slapped your ass with his metal hand and you yelped. 

You felt the straps slacken around your ankles and he lifted your hips. He pushed his thighs under yours and his cock poked along your vee. He reached between your legs and rubbed his tip against your folds. He entered you easily. Your walls welcomed him as he sank into you completely.

“Doc, my god,” He groaned. “Shit. He missed out, didn’t he?”

He thrust and you moaned. He did it again and you moaned. Again. Each time he did it, you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t stifle the sheer pleasure of being so full. And then he wiggled the plug as he fucked you. You’d never felt anything so intense. 

The sparks began to spit from your core and seared along your flesh. With each rock of his hips, you grew louder and his hips moved faster. Your back arched as he continued to toy with the plug inside you and his other hand slid down your back. He spread his fingers across your back and held you down.

He pulled the plug out and you gasped. He was quick to fumble around and grab another. He pushed inside and you let out a series of pathetic mewls. It was bigger than the last. You slowly adjusted to it though it hurt all the same.

He grunted with each plunge. Your panting mingled with his and your bodies sang a carnal tune. You could hear it all; the friction, the wetness, the sheer animalism. You came again but couldn’t even cry out as your eyes rolled back. You drooled onto the sheet as the bed jolted below you.

He came too. And he didn’t pull out. You didn’t care as the ripples washed over you. He slowed and exhaled loudly as he leaned back on his heels. He slapped your ass again as he pulled out. His cum leaked from you.

He backed up and dropped your hips back to the bed. He took the dildo and lined it up with your entrance. He slammed it into you and you yiped. He held it there and grabbed the end of the plug with his other hand. Slowly, he slipped it out of you as your ring stretched around it. The emptiness was both a relief and a disappointment.

And then he pulled the dildo out too. He lined himself up with your hole and you tugged at your binds. “No, no…” You whispered. “Please. It’s too much.” 

He stretched you around his tip as he ignored your pleas. He pulled back and pushed back in. He repeated the motion several times, each time, pushing further in. He sank down entirely as he spread his body over yours and you exclaimed. Your eyes were singed by sudden tears.

“Bucky!” You cried. “Jesus fuck, get off of me.”

“Shhh.” He covered your mouth with his hand as he reached out with his other arm. “We both know you want this. You want to be controlled.”

He thrust and you squealed into his hand. His other snaked beneath you and you heard a click. The bullet buzzed against your stomach as he slid it lower. He pressed it to your bud as he ground against you. The vibrations flowed through you. His groans trickled through your veins like venom.

He held the vibe to you with his hand, his other clasped over your lips. You breathed frantically as he sped up. You closed your eyes as you body shook against your will. You came violently. The pure pleasure intertwined with an agony so sweet. You shuddered beneath him and it fed his fervour.

He removed his hand from your mouth and pulled his arm from beneath you. He left the bullet to roll beneath you, still buzzing. He planted his hands on either side of you and lifted his pelvis and slammed back into you. He did it over and over again, his flesh slapping loudly against yours. The pain reverberated through you.

He snarled and hissed. He balled the sheet up in his fist as his other went to your head. He pulled your head up and whispered in your ear. “This is what it felt like. I hated it and loved it all the same.” 

He grabbed the back of your collar and curled your back as he dropped his hips. He fucked you into the mattress as the leather grew tighter and you gasped for breath. And you felt him cum. The current of warmth within was soothing. He slowed and rested his weight over you. He exhaled in your ear as he unhooked his fingers from the collar and stayed inside of you.

“Gee, doc,” He breathed. “I feel a lot better now.” He rolled his hips and you murmured. “A lot lighter.”

END