#Tw implied noncon

[cheesecakethots]

You’re tucked in the furthest side of the bed, facing away from the door when Shigaraki enters the room. You hear something soft drop, his coat, maybe, and then he starts approaching you.

The main benefit of him and the others joining the PLF is that he’s busier, and you have more time to be alone. Sure, there’s more security here, more people and less chance for you to run away, but you gave up on that a while ago.

The last time you’d tried escaping, he’d put a hand around your throat, and used the other to disintegrate the already torn clothing you had on your body. Then, he-

He calls your name. His voice is quiet, cautious.

You silently wish the sheets would eat you alive, and sit up, meeting his gaze. You don’t think the redness of his eyes matches the softness of the look he gives you, nor the small smile on his chapped lips.

Tomura can’t help but think you look cute, but you always look cute. His fingers twitch, and he thinks about holding you close and kissing the sleepiness from your face.

Instead he seats himself on the edge of the bed, slowly, as though approaching a startled animal. “Are you alright? How has your day been?”

You shrug, eyes drifting to stare down at your lap. He hates it when you’re like this.

“Hey, can you say something to me?”

“… Like what?” Your voice is hoarse and your throat is dry. You wish he’d leave you alone, wish he’d let you go back to sleep. Wish you wouldn’t wake up from it.

He recalls a time where you were the one who was chatty, having a nervous habit of talking about anything you could. He’s not sure if you did it to distract him or yourself. It didn’t take long for you to grow quiet.

He smiles at you, but he doesn’t look very happy. “Anything.”

You stare at him, and the smile falls a little.

“Is- Is there anything you want me to get for you? Anything on your mind? Anything you want to eat for dinner later?”

You shake your head, and he leans in a little closer to you, causing your body to shift uncomfortably.

“We can go out, if you’d like,” he suggests, tone low and almost soothing. “You used to ask about going to a dessert place, we can do that now. Or, if you want to stay in I’ll have someone bring us desserts. If not dessert, savoury food… I’ll have the chef make us your favourite- or, you your favourite. I won’t sit and eat with you if you don’t want me to. I don’t mind what, just- just tell me what you want.”

You eat less and less every day, and it scares him. You scare him. He knows it’s his own fault, though, that your silence and sadness and fear is something he himself moulded into you.

He used to find it funny when you cried, or worse, found your tears and protests would make his pants tighten around him, and his hands twitch with need. Tomura’s not sure when that stopped, but now the sight of your tears makes him feel sick, makes him wish to tear his own skin off, to claw his eyes out, to crawl into a ball and wither away.

He hopes the idea of dessert or whatever else will put some sort of spark back in your eyes, maybe it’ll make you look less lifeless and defeated.

“I’m… not hungry,” you say, slowly.

He’s getting frustrated, but not at you. Never at you, not anymore.

“We don’t have to eat. Do you want to go out? You used to ask to go out to the park, there’s a park nearby, it shouldn’t be too far of a walk.”

You don’t seem to like that suggestion, as you bury your head in your arms, bringing your knees up to your chest and shaking your head.

Tomura understands why. You used to get punished a lot for asking to go outside. The last time you had properly gone out, aside from when everyone was all on the run, had been when you’d ran away. He doesn’t want to remember what he did that day, and he’s sure you don’t either.

You had reassured him as he was dragging you back that you were going to come back, that you just wanted to go out for a bit to sit in the park. You were probably telling the truth, but it didn’t save you.

“… Cry, if you want to. You can scream at me. Hit… Hit me. It’s alright. I won’t be upset.”

You don’t want to do that. You don’t really want to do anything. You wish he’d leave you alone, though. Wish you’d keep shrinking and shrinking until he stopped noticing you at all.

He reaches a hand towards your face, and you flinch, eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“I’m not going to hurt you. It’s… It’s alright. Please don’t be afraid.”

He knows it’s stupid to say. You’re always afraid when he’s around.

[angelyuji]

…you can see i have a favorite twin

tw // kidnapping, power imbalance, implied noncon in stan’s part, yandere themes

18+ :)

yandere ford where hes hyper paranoid and freaked out about bill coming back, so he kidnaps you and keeps you trapped in the shack/basement of the shack. the kids and stan know hes being crazy, but “grunkle ford is just worried and scared for u and he really really needs you” so they let him keep you. ☹️☹️

yandere stan who abuses his role as boss at the mystery shack to make u do whatever he asks. especially since wendys in college and the kids are in california, no ones around to stop him or help you. soos thinks the world of stan, so he’s not going to believe you. buying you a tight, short uniform, making you come in early and close late, he’ll call you into his office just to tell you to pick something up of the floor for him, slowly leading up to him bending you over on his desk and teaching you exactly how to treat your oh-so-kind boss☺️☺️

[prettybabybaby]

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: dubcon, stepbrother!regulus, fem!reader, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, alludes to a noncon gangbang, featuring barty and evan because do what i want

¡ marauders masterlist !

regulus' hand moves from your throat to your chin, shaking your head until you blink, pushing out a clear droplet from the corner of your eye. your mouth is parted and saliva pools within it, threatening to spill before regulus turns your head towards him, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your lips. the kiss is wet and loud, louder than the slapping of skin on skin and the squelching of your cunt as it was filled with your stepbrothers cock.

your chest concaves as he angles his hips just right, sending a shock up your spine and pushing the air from your lungs and into his mouth. his hips stutter but he doesn't stop, holding you up as your knees begin to shake.

"look," he grumbles, using the grip on your chin to make you face the boys in front of you.

the blue eyes of evan rosier stare back at you, even more intimidating with the lust swimming in his irises. his pink lips darken where his teeth gnaw on the flesh.

barty palm himself shamelessly, gripping the bulge that became more and more prominent with every strangled noise that force itself out of you. his own eyes look as crazed as ever, each depraved thought involving you, you are sure of it.

the way they watch you is degrading, gazes drinking you in and hands aching to relieve themselves. you think you even saw barty's hand slide beneath evan's waistband at one point.

but you could hardly focus on the sight in front of you with the waves of pleasure that ripple through your body. regulus' warmth pulses inside you, the throb of his hot cock soothing the jerks of his aggressive ruts.

his face is drenched and burning almost as badly as yours. the grunts and groans hold an undertone that tell you he is enjoying the extra eyes.

"regulus," evan murmurs, posh hand sliding across his own thigh.

regulus' hips stutter at his friends voice, the hand on your throat tightening enough that you dug your nails into the flesh involuntarily. he huffs in your ear, sloppily kissing your cheek as a wordless apology. you turn your head, catching his swollen lips before he can move away.

this wasn't what you had expected. when regulus' voice sung your name, you had rushed over like a loyal puppy, eyes bright and heart thumping. nerves and hesitance lingered behind the excitement as you remembered that his dearest friends were paying him a visit this week. you hadn't liked the way they looked at you as they introduced themselves, suggestive comments leaving their lips that left you thinking they knew a little too much of your relationship with your stepbrother.

you had protested, shoving regulus off as much as you could manage before his lips enveloped yours, ridding you of the thoughts of ever letting him go until he bid you away. your begging whispers in his ear had gone ignored, mumbles telling you to "just ignore them," growing more firm as he thrusted into you.

"mmm," regulus hums, mouth vibrating yours.

"you gonna let us have a go anytime soon?"

[digital-domain]

slip

Feitan x Reader drabble // word count 1.5k

In which you dream about someone you shouldn’t, and talk in your sleep.

Tags/Warnings: yandere, kidnapped reader, mention of blood and gore (past and imagined), knives, implied noncon, implied threat of death (to reader), implied murder (not reader), reader is gonna be fucked up over this forever

A/N: first time writing this man, not sure how I feel about it but it’s either post or stare at it forever

As always - 18+, read the tags, if you don’t like the tags then don’t go below the cut. Thank you and enjoy.

There is a knife against your throat, and you barely know how it got there, much less why. You didn’t do anything. Didn’t run, didn’t try to shove your tormentor away, didn’t tell him that you wished he was dead, or worse. You wouldn’t have had the time to do these things, even if you wanted to. You hadn't been awake for a second before his hand stirred from where it had lain on your waist. And now - the blade twitches, slightly. It doesn’t press quite hard enough to make you bleed, but certainly enough to make you picture what would happen if it did. If it kept going, long past the point where red rivulets stained the threadbare sheets beneath you.

A small noise escapes your mouth. You get nothing in response. It takes time for Feitan to speak, when there’s something on his mind.

It’s taking too long, even for him.

Last night, you thought you were safe. He kissed you, after meticulously washing a stranger’s blood out from beneath his nails. He watched you fall asleep, kept a hand on you until exhaustion finally forced you to nod off in the early hours of the morning. The strange affection he gives you is worse than any cruelty you could imagine, but not nearly as bad as the thought that somehow, you’ve managed to lose it. There are no words in your mind, now, only scattered images of what might happen, what you might become, the barely-recognizable thing strewn out across the floor -

“What were you dreaming about?” Feitan’s voice is dull and quiet, as always. Like he’s asking you this over breakfast, and not on what could be your deathbed.

You don’t remember, and you don’t answer. There is no air left for you to speak. 

“What were you dreaming about?” he repeats. It’s almost the same voice, but there’s a hint of urgency, now. The barest hint - but you’ve grown used to interpreting the faint indications he gives you. “Talk.”

“I don’t”- You gasp, but seem to take in nothing. “-don’t remember”-

“You were talking when you were sleeping.” 

Statements like these are dangerous. He expects you to understand what he means, always. He does not like to elaborate.

“I…” You screw your eyes shut, try to forget where you are just enough to remember where you were. “It was night. In the dream. And I was…” Oh. No. You can’t say that part out loud. Never, ever, ever. When you open your eyes, your vision is blurry. They close once more, of their own accord. “I was sitting with someone. Talking.” Someone. Someone has no face, no name - you pray that he’ll let you leave it at that. That he won’t ask for more.

“You said…” His face is close to the back of your neck, and yet, you cannot feel his breath on your skin. “When you were sleeping, you said I love you.”

Your stomach threatens to infringe upon your throat. You curse your sleeping mind for giving you something beautiful to dream of, and for letting it slip out of your mouth. Beautiful things do not survive here, and your mouth is always better kept shut. 

“Who?” 

You’d think, in your present situation, that you wouldn’t have enough room in your head to feel terrified for anyone else. But you do. Terrified enough to try something stupid. 

You’re sure Feitan can feel the tension in your body, the instinctual way it readies itself for a fight (you would lose instantly) or an attempt at escape (you wouldn’t make it an inch). “It wasn’t about”- you choke on your own breath, try again. “It wasn’t about anyone real. Just a dream-person.”

“Bad liar,” he accuses. You do not protest. It was pointless to try. 

And yet, you try again. You know that your answer matters. Enough for you to force more lies across the blade that still presses against your skin. “Someone I used to date. A long time ago.” Really, it was only a few weeks before Feitan….found you that things ended. But time is subjective - it certainly feels like a long time has passed since then. 

“Oh.” If he suspects that you’re lying again, he doesn’t say it. But he does tend to leave a lot of things unsaid. 

“He”- You suck in a breath as the knife twitches again. The movement is not an accident. It’s never an accident - his hands are unnaturally steady, when he wants them to be. “He ended things. I don’t think he thinks about me anymore.” This needs to be true. He needs to believe that it’s true, or-

“But you still think about him.” 

Your stomach churns. “It was just a dream.” Technically not a lie, either. You’d have to say no for it to be a lie.

Feitan pauses for a moment. You’d have expected him to be furious, to take this out on you in some unimaginably awful way. Instead you hear a single sigh, feel it soft against your skin. “He let you go.” He sounds almost confused, his muted voice drawn out just enough to make his resentment clear. The knife turns slightly, and this time, you’re not sure if it was on purpose. “He must be stupid.”

You bite down on the inside of your lip, sharp and hard enough to tear a bit of the lining away. It’s awful when he says these things. Words that could be sweet, if you removed everything around them.

“I can’t control what I dream about,” you whisper, almost too quiet to be heard. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” He withdraws the blade, swings his feet off the bed - the floor, decrepit as it is, should creak when he stands, but it never does. “You don’t need to tell me anything else.”

You know better than to be relieved, so you turn over, to your other side, and fix your gaze on the floor. Watch him carefully, indirectly. You listen, your breath almost as silent as his, as he picks up his jacket from the end of your bed, puts it on. 

And he smiles. His face is covered, but you see it in his eyes. “I can figure out the rest.” 

The rest. 

Your heart hammers, but your blood stands still. Frozen in your veins. You know why he’s put on his jacket. Why he’s leaving. Where he’s going.

The knife still dangling from Feitan’s hand catches a shard of your reflection, a smudged picture of a terrified eye that disappears before you can look any closer.

The rest. Name, face, address - all too easy. There are clues in your confiscated possessions, in the place where you used to live. 

It’s as if the knife is still held to your throat. No. It’s as if your skin has already broken beneath it. You do not think in words. You think in gory pictures, infinitely clearer than the haze you see before forcing your eyes shut. Your blood, mixing with what you’re sure will be on that blade by day’s end. Skin-gushing-red-bones-out-something being buried, dirty hands returning to you, staining your face, your clothes, the things underneath, silent breath coming alive, painfully soft in your ear -

You open your eyes. You want to scream at him to stop, to stay. But your mouth stays shut.

“I won’t draw it out.” For a moment, he looks down, and you swear you see his face color. Like he’s said something overly sweet, and can barely stand it. “I promise.”

It’s enough to make it real. Enough to unseal your lips. “Don’t…” You should be yelling. But it’s all you can do, finding enough strength to make a near-silent, desperate appeal. “Please. You don’t have to. I’m not going to - to run. To him or anyone else. I’m not gonna do anything. I don’t - it was just a dream…”

“Stop.” His smile drops, eyes narrow. Voice even quieter than usual, deathly calm.

You go silent. Perfectly still.

“If you keep trying to save him, I’ll break my word. I already want to.” 

You forget how to breathe. 

This can’t be a choice you have to make. This can’t be in your hands. There are words in your head, finally, and you can’t say them. 

You have to say them.

“I’m sorry.” 

"Okay." He stares at you for far too long, unblinking. For seconds, or maybe hours, or maybe days - they’re all the same, to you, now. “It’s okay.”

No. He is unforgivably wrong. Nothing will ever be okay again. You’re in some other world, in your mind, and it’s going to take more than you have to yank you out of it. 

You can barely see him in front of you. His voice reverberates strangely in your head. But when he moves, it’s like your senses pull themselves together. You realize that your eyes are wet, that a tear is rolling down the bridge of your nose, that you can breathe after all, but only in ragged gasps…

“You look…nice…when you cry.” He drops his gaze once more, tugs up on the cloth that covers his face. His smile is back, creasing the corners of his eyes, and it is the ugliest thing you have ever seen. “Wonder if he thought that, too.”

[serickswrites]

Edge

Warnings: captivity, restraints, drugging, implied noncon

Whumpee was on the edge of unconsciousness. Whumper always kept them that way with whatever drug Whumper kept injecting. Every time Whumpee felt like they were regaining their faculties, Whumper cooed in their ear, kissed down their neck, and stabbed a needle into their arm.

"Oh darling, you are such a fighter," Whumper said one day as they stroked Whumpee's cheek. "I do so love that about you."

Whumpee wished they could fight back. Or they wished Whumper would just knock them out. They hated being awake for what Whumper did after the kissing. After the touching. They hated being awake and aware of every thrust of Whumper's body, every move Whumper made with them. They just wanted to disappear in those moments.

Tears leaked from the corner of Whumpee's eyes as Whumper kissed down their neck. They had been thinking about someone else's kisses. Someone else's touch. Caretaker. They loved when Caretaker kissed them, held the, and was with them. They couldn't help but think of Caretaker as Whumper touched them. If they had to be awake, maybe they could disappear somewhere in their mind. "C-Caretaker," they whispered as they screwed their eyes shut. They couldn't help themself.

"Oh darling," Whumper smiled down at Whumpee, "forget about them. They've certainly forgotten about you."

Whumpee screwed their eyes shut. "N-No." Caretaker would never forget them.

"It's only you and me now, darling. And I'm going to enjoy every moment of it." Whumper leaned down and whispered the last in Whumpee's ear, nipping at the shell of Whumpee's ear. "And maybe you will, too."

[amostnobleyandere]

A Team Effort (Yandere! Diluc × GN! Reader) (Suggestive !!!)

*not quite nsfw, nothing happens except for a make-out session, but there is a huge implication at the end.

A/N: diluc and reader are both “nobles” bc I am eating these historical manwhas UP man. this is a little cringe but I needed an outlet

warning(s) 🚨: !!! yandere !!!, possessive behavior, non-consensual touching, non-consensual kissing,🚨 !!!! implied non-con at the end !!!!🚨, reader has a bad family but it’s not described in detail, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsessive behavior, betrayal, captivity, slight exhibitionism?? (Diluc is making out w reader and Kaeya’s just chilling there, watching)

*is suggestive but only bc diluc is getting friendly w reader’s neck and lips and leaving a bunch of hickies and the last line is !!VERY!! suggestive (it’s a tad bit steamy and very implicative), Kaeya is there too and he’s also *creepy* (they’re both morally questionable in this), Kaeya is in on Diluc’s yandere behavior, reader is an innocent bystander in all this bs, !!! Reader has a Shit Family (TM) !!!

summary: Feeling that the distance between your worlds was too wide, you never acted on the feelings you had for Diluc Ragnvindr. When Diluc proposes, you reject him. His brother decides to take matters into his own hands by delivering you to Diluc himself. Diluc doesn’t oppose the new arrangement, as long as you’re with him.

—————————

Soft lips trailed eagerly up your neck, across your collar bone, over any skin they could reach that had been previously covered by the light night shirt you wore. You felt an insane amount of heat seep through your skin at the contact. For hours your neck and lips had been receiving his attention; biting, bruising, worshipping to no end.

You tried not to squirm as his hands—his hot, hot hands—held you firmly in place; both of them settled on your hips, his unnatural warmth bleeding through the thin fabric and into your skin. Your back was pressed up against the headboard of the luxurious bed you had been sat upon. The man you were holding onto for dear life buried his head into the crook of your neck, using his tongue and teeth to suck and lick blooming marks into the sensitive skin. The deep scent of firewood, ink, and a strong cologne surrounded you, suffocating your senses and putting you into a delirious haze.

Your shirt had been tugged down and rested just above your chest. The man laying passionate kisses across your upper body had not dared to pull it any further. How gentlemanly he was, being considerate enough to allow you to cover up from his wandering eyes, and yet everything else he was doing was still highly inappropriate. He had pulled it down just enough to allow himself a taste, to run his fingers over the smooth expanse of skin that was once hidden to him by layers of clothing, and perhaps to make you look just the slightest bit debauched as his mouth marked anywhere it could reach.

—————————

You had been brought to the Ragnvindr Manor against your will. It was more like a quiet ambush than a kidnapping and, as you found out when it was was too late, it had been planned by your family without your knowledge.

It started when maids swiftly funneled into your room and started packing up your belongings; then those maids plus additional servants hurried you into an unfamiliar carriage, ushering you in. You found yourself sitting across from Kaeya Alberich, a man you had only exchanged a few polite words with in your entire life. He was grinning from ear to ear.

When you tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. Anxiety rose in your chest as Kaeya watched you struggle with a satisfied smile. That was when you had started to panic. No matter how much you insistently pressed the man for answers, he danced around your questions and was unmoved by the nervous waiver in your voice, saying that a surprise was waiting for you at the end of the carriage ride. He never spoke a sentence that gave you a clue as to where you were going.

You peeked out of the window after seeing the carriage pass through a large gate and were met with the impressive sight of Ragnvindr Manor. Kaeya, who had remained irritatingly calm for the entirety of the ride, languidly got up from his seat across from you and reached for the previously locked handle. You heard a click from the outside. He pushed down. With a sly smile, he turned to you and gestured to the now open door.

You couldn’t help the resentful glare that settled in your features at the borderline mocking gesture. After shooting him a dirty look, you hesitantly stepped out of the carriage. You jumped when you felt Kaeya’s hand settle on your lower back, who seemed amused by your startled reaction. He grinned down at you; that and his arm around your waist was anything but comforting, as the weight felt like it was trapping you, shackling you from running away.

You were ushered through the large, yawning doorway and led into the dim front hall. You stared in awe at the luxurious wood interior that was bathed in a warm glow from the candlelight reflecting, flickering off the high walls and shadowed ceiling. Your mind was momentarily distracted from the anxiety thrumming in your chest, with Kaeya’s hand still resting lightly on your back as he pushed you forward.

He led you through the initial archways and up the stairs, his pace annoyingly (and yet eerily) slow, which you were forced to match. He stopped in front of a door that blended in with the rest of the dark wood that was characteristic of the architecture. There was nothing special about it. It only made you more nervous.

“Well,” Kaeya finally spoke, voice smooth and suave as it always was. “This is it.”

As you processed that you had basically just let a stranger pull you into someone else’s house and isolate you from any form of safety, your frazzled feelings formed a heavy weight in your chest, a raging combination of panic and fear.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “Why am I here?”

His grip curved against the side of your waist and tightened, keen on not letting you bolt.

You were seconds away from running into the maze of hallways and hoping you could find your out when Kaeya gingerly knocked on the door. He shot you a glance, seemingly reading your thoughts as his other hand, the hand tensely holding your waist, idly played with the fabric underneath his fingers. His demeanor was infuriatingly casual as you stressed over every decision that could have possibly led you here. Despite his feckless expression, you felt that he understood the weight of what he was doing. He wasn’t oblivious to your fear or your anxiety, and there was a serious expression in his eyes that looked like determination. Whatever he brought you here for, he was planning to see it through, unmoving and stubborn.

You wondered what could make a man such as Kaeya, who had always seemed so removed from any conflict in society, so motivated. You wondered what role you had in him achieving his goal.

The door opened, revealing a very surprised Diluc, dressed down more than you had every seen him. His usual heavy outer coat had been removed, leaving him in a white undershirt and vest. Long crimson hair was thrown up in a high ponytail. The candlelight from inside the room reflected off of it, making a shining halo form around his head. From what you could tell, he was in the middle of getting ready for bed, with a few stray buttons undone at the top of his shirt. You felt your face heat up at the sight.

“Kaeya? What….”

His gaze first landed on his brother, sending him a confused look, before it landed on you and stayed, a wide eyed stare that told you he was not expecting your visit. You squirmed awkwardly under his stare, too bewildered by the situation to say a proper greeting. You pressed down the urge to cover your now burning face with a hand as you were pinned under both his and Kaeya’s full attention.

“Diluc,” Kaeya spoke, unbothered by the obvious tension in the air. He fully encircled his arm around your side, a happy smile forming on his face. He pulled you towards him. Stumbling gracelessly, you were pulled closer into Kaeya and the doorway where Diluc stood stiffly, still staring at you.

“An early birthday gift.”

….What? You felt a cold dread immediately begin to pool in your stomach, the words freezing and repeating in your head. You had been nervous before, but now your body was going into survival mode as fear took over. What the hell was he talking about?

Your mind ran at the implication. You were a person. Not an item to be passed around. Was this some kind of sick revenge for rejecting someone so much higher than you in status and power? Was your family in on it? Were you suppose to be some kind of offering for Diluc?

You nearly flinched when you heard Diluc make an affronted and angry noise in response, almost something like a growl, as he glared at his brother with burning red eyes.

After that, you found yourself sitting on a plush couch inside of what could only be Diluc’s chambers. Across the room, Diluc and Kaeya spoke in harsh whispers, sparing furtive glances towards you every few seconds. You pointedly tried not to look at the very large four post bed in the middle of the room, feeling much too awkward and uncomfortable in what was obviously the personal room of a man you were not married to. The taboos of society all began to rise to the forefront of your mind, and you realized how inappropriate this all was; if it got out, there would be a terrible scandal, and your family would drag you through the mud for dirtying the reputation of both theirs and the Ragnvindr names.

Your damp hands clamped down on the fabric of your clothes, clenching into tense fists as the only other people in the room left you to stew in your anxiety.

Suddenly, there was a shout.

You nearly jumped five feet into the air. You had to tense every muscle in your body to keep yourself from rising off the small couch, though you could not stop your head whipping around to the source of the noise. You heart rate, after finally calming down, sped up again as the dread in your stomach churned. You had a bad feeling that this odd situation was coming to its climax.

The sound had came from Diluc. In Kaeya’s hand was an outstretched piece of paper, too far away for you to make out whatever was written on it. Diluc swiftly took the sheet from Kaeya, scanning over it with wide eyes.

“We’re….?” Diluc breathed, suddenly looking at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, his lips parted in surprise.

“Officially.” Kaeya said, a laugh in his merry voice, clearly amused by Diluc’s reverent expression. The calvary captain titled his head towards you, his eyes barely glancing your way, signaling to Diluc to go over to you. Your chest tightened.

Diluc looked at Kaeya, then turned fully to face you, taking slow steps as if approaching a startled animal. He walked over to you, expression nervous, seeming almost shy as he came to stand in front of the couch you sat on. He looked down at you from above, not speaking. Opening his mouth, then closing it, he balled his fist onto his knees as lowered himself down to sit beside you.

He was close. Too close. To close to be normal, for two people who were in such an odd situation. You were paralyzed by dread and didn’t try to move away from the startling, sudden heat that came with Diluc sitting next to you.

He looked away from you, his head facing the ground in front of you, then turned his body to angle himself towards you. For a moment, he stared ahead, right past the edge of the sofa. He opened his mouth to speak and a breathy, light voice came out, so different from his usual deep timber.

“Your family….,” He started. Your heart stopped. “has agreed for us to be wed without a ceremony. My brother,” he shot Kaeya an accusing look, turning away for a second before returning his gaze to the ground at your feet, “has taken it upon himself to take care of the all the details and bring you here. I’m sure you weren’t aware of this, and this all must be very confusing, but we are now legally…..” He stopped on the last word, finally looking up into your eyes, his own burning with a passion so bright it scared you.

You could do nothing but stare in horror as he opened his mouth and tied you to him forever.

“Married.” Ah. There it was. His usual voice, deep and pleasant. He grabbed your clenched hand, gently but insistently pressing it open and laying his much larger palm flat atop your own before intertwining his fingers with yours. Your joined hands rested atop your knee, which is where Diluc’s gaze stayed, entranced by the point of contact between his skin and yours.

In any other situation, the action would’ve been incredibly romantic and sweet; a tender moment that would’ve set your weak heart aflame and stirred butterflies in your stomach. Your crush, holding your hand, looking at you with all the adoration in the world? It sounded like a dream. Yet, this was possibly the worst situation you had ever found yourself in; dragged to the house of someone you barely knew and finding them infatuated with you. Knowing that you’d been given to them like a wrapped gift.

He had confirmed all your fears. You knew that your family had gone behind your back and lied to you, betrayed you, despite how much you had insisted that you not be engaged to Diluc. It would be too painful when he eventually, inevitably broke it off to marry someone else. Your romantic feelings for him were only the beginnings of a fervent admiration. Still, you knew it would come to nothing, and that your feelings could not change the nature of the world. The two of you lived in different worlds, different circles, and he had better marriage prospects from people that could give him more than you ever could: power, wealth, and all the things that you would always have to look at but never be able to touch.

The emotions you were seeing in his eyes when he stared into yours could never be described as a shallow admiration. No, now you wish you had discouraged being engaged to him for a different reason; his feelings went far beyond the bounds of admiration. They burned in his eyes; they burned you with their intensity.

You had seen a side of Diluc today that scared you. You knew your simple crush couldn’t hold a candle to his raging inferno, something wild and uncontrollable. It would consume you. You now knew that he would consume you, if you allowed him to.

It must’ve shown on your face. The confusion, the bewilderment, one of the many emotions you were feeling must’ve seeped into your expression.

Diluc began to attempt to comfort you. His hand slipped onto your face, shocking you out of your raging thoughts and back to the present as his eyes scanned over you. He looked like he was savoring touching you, perhaps happy to finally have you in his arms, under his hands, after so much longing. (How much longing? How long did his feelings go unnoticed by you?)

“You need not worry, dearest. I’ll take care of you and treat you well. I’ll be a proper husband to you and more, I swear it. You have my word.” A man once nervous and flustered was now scarily serious as he spoke, maintaining eye contact as his binding words promised you a lifetime by his side.

Diluc leaned into you, his hand still pressed to your face as he glanced down at your lips, his own parting. You saw his tongue dart out to wet them, too distracted by the movement to see that his gaze now rested on only your lips.

“I will try each and every day to make you love me as much as I love you.” He spoke softly.

You gasped as Diluc pressed his lips against yours much more harshly than you were expecting him to, and he chased after you as you leaned back into the couch.

—————————

As shocking as it was to find out, you couldn’t do much to ignore Diluc’s now obvious feelings for you. With his words, he ruthlessly broke down every mental barrier you had put up to convince yourself this was all just a bad dream. He loved you, he told you. He was going to protect you, he vowed. He was going to give you everything your heart could ever desire.

The words were meant to bring you comfort, and you had never felt more terrified in your life.

You could feel his hands wandering over your body, curiously mapping out every dip and crevice like they had been waiting for the chance to touch you. Diluc curved his body over yours, hovering above you, not quite on top, not quite upright, just crowding into your space as if he could only breathe the air near you. You winced as you felt his teeth latch onto your lower lip and pull, a soft groan escaping from his chest as he took in the sight of you; you could only imagine what you looked like right now, and the thought that Diluc was looking at you, admiring you like this, made your face burn and your body tremble. Unwillingly, a fire lit in your stomach.

And then, a raspy and low laugh brought you out of your thoughts.

"Looks like their mind is wandering, 'Luc."

Your eyes immediately flew to the owner of the voice, who was standing against the doorway with his arms crossed, an amused smirk painted on his lips. He was watching Diluc fervently push his lips to your neck, face, lips, with the same affection and bemusement one would have after getting pushed into the snow by a sibling. His look of ease, and slight surprise, betrayed no discomfort toward the sight in front of him.

You distantly thought that these two brothers had a lot more love for each other than what they let on.

After all, Kaeya was the one who had paved the path to you being in Diluc’s ever tightening embrace. Kaeya was the one who brought you here and practically threw you into Diluc's arms. From what you could guess, and from what you knew about Kaeya, he had most likely learned of Diluc’s puppy love and had seen no problem with pulling a few strings to help his brother along with his “courting.”

Never mind the fact that you had already said no; you had rejected Diluc months before. The proposal had came as a big surprise, especially when Diluc requested a private audience and asked for your hand in person. And still, you rejected him. At the time, you thought that if he wasn’t already engaged to someone other than you, someone who met his status, he would be soon, and you weren’t going to risk being the fiancé of a man who belonged to someone else; you were protecting yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that would come with letting Diluc court you. And what were you meant to do when he was forced, or worse, willingly began to court someone else? Pine after him from the sidelines, hopelessly adoring and praying he’ll come back? The thought was comical. Laughable.

Kaeya, however, clearly didn’t seem to think so.

If you knew that Kaeya had been plotting to serve you to Diluc on a silver platter, he would’ve dragged you here kicking and screaming. And if you could get past what a conniving and manipulative bastard he was, you would think it was sweet and endearing that he would do so much for his estranged brother, if only to make him happy. Even if it was at your expense.

And to make matters worse, it had been incredibly easy for him to trap you under his palm; you had pieced together how he managed to pull it off fairly quickly.

When Kaeya had visited your family’s estate under the guise of delivering a marriage proposal on behalf of the Ragnvindr household, your family had signed you over without a second thought. Even if they had taken the time to think about the fact that Diluc and Kaeya were rumored to never talk or even exchange pleasantries with one another, that they constantly acted like they were strangers, that it was incredibly odd that Kaeya, of all the people Diluc could have asked, would be delivering the news, it was still too much to ask for them to bat an eye at the proposal.

You weren’t naive; your family wasn’t keen to hang on to you. The only reason you hadn’t been married off already was because of how strongly you had batted your eyes and schemed your way out of wedlock. But now? They wouldn’t dare reject Diluc’s proposal after they found out about it, even if they had noticed every glaring red flag that came along with it. Any suspicion they may have felt was swiftly overcome by Kaeya’s relentless charm and the naturally powerful influence of the Ragnvindr name.

You were doomed the moment Diluc proposed.

You were doomed the moment Kaeya found out you had rejected his brother.

You had practically been held captive inside the manor since you had arrived a few hours ago, and Diluc didn’t seem keen on letting you out of his sight.

Kaeya, who had walked close enough to relax against the post at the end of the bed, leaned towards you and smiled.

"Oh, don’t give me that look. I wasn’t originally planning on taking you here,” he smiled at you like he was sharing a joke, the corner of his eye crinkling with mirth. “I only found out just recently about Diluc’s little infatuation with you. And here I always thought my dear brother would end up with someone like Jean. You were quite the surprise, you know?”

You resisted the urge to throw the nearest object at his handsome face after that comment.

That was who Diluc was meant to be engaged to right now, if the rumors of their long awaited marriage finally being planned held any truth to them. It would be a good marriage; a classic case of childhood friends to lovers, and their personalities fit well together, their friendship naturally wholesome. And most importantly, Jean held one of the most influential positions anyone could have; she was above many and bowed to few. Her status matched Diluc’s; her mere existence made the chance of your betrothal to the young Ragnvindr heir practically nonexistent. It was a key contributing factor in you giving up on confessing your feelings for Diluc.

You had assumed that he had Jean and could never reciprocate what you felt for him. How wrong you were.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up into your throat, one that you pressed back into your chest before it could escape. Kaeya wasn't that far off the mark; Diluc was practically destined to be with Jean. If you were a little bit more romantic, you would even call them star-crossed lovers.

So why were you here now, helplessly holding on to the back of the man’s waist coat while he suckled and bruised your neck to no end?

You gasped as Diluc seemed to get a little bolder at the sound of his brother’s voice, feeling his teeth nip harshly against your skin as he finally pulled away. You could see that his lips were kiss-swollen from his efforts, full and pink, something that unfairly added to his already devastating good looks, which were only enhanced by the glow of the candlelight. He angled his face away from you to look at his brother, something akin to jealously swirling in his eyes.

“Kaeya,” he warned, a growl in his voice. Kaeya chuckled and shook his head before holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave the two lovebirds alone.”

He shot you one last wink before he sauntered towards the door, opening it before pausing with his hand on the handle. You watched him lean back to make eye contact with the red haired man on top of you, a smirk spreading across his lips:

“Oh, and Diluc?” He cooed.

“Be gentle.”

[suncaptor]

You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison // Sam Winchester

wary of triggers in the show / song and to note that it focuses on issues of abuse / violence / consent / addiction, some of which the show handles poorly || captions in youtube

[dabisqueen]

Dabi, after he pulled you into the alley and fucked you...

[absolute-flaming-trash]

I'm a bit rusty rn, but I cannot get this out of my mind, so...

Mahito has no need for sleep.

He has his hammock, yes, but that's just there for relaxing. Reading. Talking to you about whatever topic is on his mind.

He does so with a smile on his face the entire time because while he has no need for sleep, you certainly do.

You try so hard to listen despite the exhaustion that weighs in everything you do, and you can hear the laughter in his voice as he keeps talking - watching as your eyelids flutter and struggle to stay open.

He can practically smell it on you... the fear that lingers underneath. The anxiety that makes you want to stay awake for as long as possible.

Amazing, really. Such a strong reaction from you in response to a simple passing comment.

"You're so pliant when you sleep."

The initial horror on your face was enough to sate him for days, but this?

Fighting off the inevitable is by far his favorite reaction from you.

So go on. Do your best.

He'll be right there when you wake up.

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[cheesecakethots]

“Whore.”

You could’ve sworn the teacup in your hands cracked a little from how hard you’re gripping it. If you were Illumi, it would’ve shattered into a fine powder by now. But you’re not, which makes you susceptible to being called such things.

They’re at it again. You’re unsure as to what you’ve done to upset some of the butlers and maids, but god do they not like you. No matter. You hate everyone in this stupid boring ugly manor anyway. Huh. Maybe that’s why they hate you, too.

It must’ve been a shock to see Illumi of all people one day bring home his future wife. One he never cared to mention to anyone else beforehand, and one that was still kicking and screaming over his shoulder.

You’re not really sure how long you’ve been here. Months? A year now? However long it’s been, it didn’t take anytime at all to realise that maybe you’re not as safe here as Illumi swears you to be. His mother most definitely hates you, but, oh well, she’s never really tried anything, as far as you know.

The help started muttering things when Illumi wasn’t around, things that hurt more than you wanted to admit. When you didn’t go running off to Illumi at the first few instances of it, it got worse, as though they knew you would never tell him about it.

First off, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of being your saviour when someone says mean things to you. Secondly, you may hate these assholes, but you have a conscience.

Only last week Illumi came into your shared bedroom, absolutely drenched in blood, asking if you could shower together. You quickly found out that whoever he had been torturing wasn’t dead yet, and he still had more to do.

Thinking about what Illumi does to people he doesn’t care about, those he’s only hurting for a job, makes you shiver at the thought of him actually harming someone who did him, or you, wrong. But, despite your mercy on them, this time you’re considering just telling him. Only a little.

You’ve had a notably stressful day, being pranced around by his mother who’s insistent on ‘training’ you to be the perfect wife for her son. Her explaining to you that the family expects at least six children from you both had you rushing to the bathroom to vomit.

Then you ran into his father, on your way back to your room. He doesn’t seem to actively dislike you, but he scares the absolute shit out of you. The man seems to think you’re some house pet rather than an actual person with thoughts and feelings, but you suppose that’s a modicum better than wanting you dead.

You also bumped into Illumi’s grandfather. You’re not sure if you can bring yourself to hate him, but you do hate the look of pity in his eyes whenever he sees you. Sometimes he’ll save you from a lecture Illumi’s mother is giving you, so he’s nice in that regard. He’d never free you, though, so he’s just another kidnapper you can’t become friendly with.

You eventually got back to your room, expecting a nice nap before being forced to attend family dinner, only to find Illumi had gotten back earlier than expected. You cringed at how hungry he was, and not for food, but just allowed him to do as he wished. You were too tired to argue. After he was done, he seemed to take note of how quiet and exhausted you were. Too bad, dinner time. You hated dinner times more than anything else.

You ate the admittedly lovely food in pure silence, but quickly became sick to your stomach at hearing Illumi and his mother discuss the prospects of you becoming pregnant. You didn’t eat anymore after that. You’re pretty sure his brother, Milluki, made some comment about you that Illumi didn’t like, which explains why his wrist was snapped in half a few seconds later.

Illumi tried spoon feeding you when noticing how full your plate was, but you managed to convince him that you weren’t hungry. That got you another lecture from his mother about how you’ll soon be eating for two. You were tempted to tell her that if you ever got pregnant you’d throw yourself into Mike’s jaws, but managed to refrain.

After that, you finally got to go to bed. It wasn’t something you were looking forward to anymore; you struggled to sleep when Illumi was home because he’d spend the majority of the night just staring at you.

“Can I go outside?”

You don’t remember why you blurted it or where the thought came from, but you remember the confused blink Illumi gave in response.

“Um.. just for.. ten minutes? O-Or five..? I just want to sit in the garden by myself for a bit… If not, it’s alright..”

You hated how pathetic you sounded, unsure as to what Illumi was thinking when he stared at you with that expressionless face.

“Alright.”

“What?”

“Would you like me to ask a maid to bring you out a cup of tea?”

You didn’t really think about his words too much, just happy you got something your way for once, and nodded rather enthusiastically. You should’ve said no.

The first few minutes of being in the garden, sat on the bench and allowing the cool nights breeze to settle on your skin had you relaxing for the first time in a while.

“Your tea, mistress.”

Oh. It was one of the ones you were sure hated you, and behind him was another. Oh, well. You took the tea from his hands, thanking them nonetheless.

It was much more bitter than you liked it, but you didn’t complain. You didn’t really want tea in the first place. They didn’t leave, but you didn’t complain. Illumi probably asked them to watch over you, maybe to make sure you didn’t try to run. It’s alright, you still have a nice view to relax with.

“Whore.”

Your eyes widen a little, and your grip on the cup increases. They continue muttering amongst themselves, but you catch small, demeaning phrases that you’re certain are aimed at you.

Why are you a whore? You’d never even had sex before you met Illumi, and if you had, it wouldn’t be their business. You’re hardly allowed to interact with anyone other than who Illumi allows you to. Where would you have the chance to sleep around? The insult doesn’t make much sense.

That’s what you tell yourself, despite the fact that your shoulders and hands are shaking and you feel something cold and wet running down your cheeks.

Shit.

You put the cup on the floor, hands moving to cover your face and wipe away any evidence of tears. Illumi hated when you cried.

Why are you still crying? What they said doesn’t make any sense. Stop crying, enjoy the view. You don’t have long left before you have to go back inside.

You’re still crying. You don’t notice that it’s gone eerily silent aside from your own muffled sobs, too busy working on shutting yourself up.

“[Name].”

Shit. Shit!

He’s been sat next to you for god knows how long now, and you didn’t even realise. God, this sucks.

“Why are you crying?” Illumi asks, and you can feel him move closer to you on the bench.

“I-I’m not,” you say, a hand still covering your eyes. What excuse do you give? If you say hay fever will he never let you out in the garden again? If you say you have a cold, will he keep you inside your bedroom for a few weeks? Months?

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him staring at you.

“Would you like to stay outside for a bit longer?”

Oh.

“Ye-Yeah. Y-Yes please,” you eventually reply, gulping down another sob.

He doesn’t leave, but you’re less bothered by his presence than usual. Despite it being… him, it’s not horrible to have some company, even though you’d never admit it out loud.

You’re not sure how long you sit outside before he stands, prompting you to do the same. Neither of you say anything, not until you reach your bedroom and Illumi tells you in a tone softer than you’d usually hear from him that he has something he must do, so you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.

You turn to go to bed, but he grabs your wrist. He doesn’t look at you for a moment, seemingly considering something. Then, he stiffly leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead rather robotically. Sometimes you wonder if he is a robot, it really would explain a lot.

The kiss ends soon after it begins.

“Get some rest. You look bad.”

You huff a little, but can’t bring yourself to actually be offended due to the thinly veiled concern in his tone.

The sleep you get is better than you expected. Maybe not having a mass murderer eyeing you up while you try and rest is a reason for that.

Illumi doesn’t show up for the entirety of the next day, which is a little strange. He likes seeing you off in the morning, giving you a kiss before he departs - you’re certain he copied it from a romance movie you used to enjoy watching from time to time. You don’t question his absence too much, you don’t exactly enjoy his company, after all.

The day you have is better than the last. Illumi’s mother seems to be a bit less of a bitch than usual. That’s a win in your book.

It doesn’t take long for you to be back in your warm bed, wrapped up in covers and drifting off to sleep.

You wake up to the feeling of something wet hitting the tip of your nose, and quiet breathing above you.

“Are you awake?”

You are now. It’s pitch black in the room, but you can make out Illumi looming over, his hair framing around you like some makeshift cage.

Still sleepy, you groan a little, “Illumi? What… time is it?”

Something wet hits the bed.

“2:57 AM.”

Huh. You breathe in through your nose. Illumi absolutely reeks. Metallic, is it? You’re not sure it’s the best idea to comment on it.

“Oh. Okay.”

Another drip of something onto the blanket. He doesn’t seem to be in the talking mood.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“… Yes.”

Another.

You gulp. “Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t think so.”

Another drip, this time it hits your arm.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes narrow in the darkness.

“No.”

The silence is deafening. Your hands clutch onto the end of the blanket. He leans impossibly closer, and the stench of whatever is on him becomes all too familiar. He’s smelt like it before, but never this strong.

“How long were the help bothering you?”

“Since I got here.” There’s little point in trying to lie about it now.

“If you hide something from me again I’ll break three of your fingers.”

A little specific, but the threat certainly does the job.

“Okay. I’m… sorry.” You’re not.

Finally, he pulls away, eyes still trained on your face.

“Go to sleep.”

You don’t. You’re certain that you can’t, at least not for tonight. Especially not after hearing him turn the shower on, and after he’s done leave the room once more.

Instead, you sit and stare at the ceiling, and wonder if any of those in the basement will even have three fingers left of them, by the time he’s done.

[searenbound]

Alpha prince Bakugou who’s never been told no, not understanding why the one Omega he actually wants won’t lay with him and becomes dangerously obsessed with claiming her. To the point where he doesn’t think he cares about the how as long as he can say they’re his future bride and mother of his pups

He doesn’t really care if it means he has to sully her honor, he’s the one who’ll have her in the end anyway.

[fueioekjfisks]

Im so sorry im losing my absolute mind but please hear me out for a second.

Mild tw for implied SA - NOTHING ACTUALLY HAPPENED PEOPLE JUST THINK IT HAPPENED

You know the common misunderstanding au in the danny phandom rn about vlad being a creep and people thinking hes like a CREEPY CREEP and not just a supervillain creep?

Well imagine danny is going on break or something and his dad wants to bring the whole family up to vlads castle for whatever reason.

Danny, obviously, does not want to waste his ONE FREAKING CHANCE of getting some god damn sleep being tormented by vlad and his stupid birds. Plus, vlad will probably plan some big murder plot for his dad and danny CAN. NOT. HANDLE. THAT. RIGHT. NOW.

So danny decides to make a PowerPoint presentation about why he doesnt want to go.

Obviously he cant reveal vlad or his own halfa status so its mostly just really jumbled information about vlad being creepy.

He gets backup from sam, tucker, jazz, and even val. He also knows his mom already dislikes vlad and knows hes a total creep so all he really needs to do is convince his dad.

But??? As hes compiling evidence??? And rehearsing his presentation with hes friends??? He realizes that it sounds super fucked up???

And like, it’s mostly just bad without all the context. But he realizes that Vlad is actually kinda sick in the head. Danny knows he would never actually do something that terrible, but its supper concering how similar his actions are to like, actual bad people.

Danny isnt mad about it or anything, he’s actually just worried about it Vlad.

Danny is not perfect by any means. But Vlad is the only other member of his species besides, like, his fucking clone (which holy shit Vlad what the fuck) or maybe dan who is also fucked up.

Danny knew that Vlads death definitely messed him up, but he never really thought about Vlads actions beyond “obsessive fruitloop, at it again :/“ and is just now realizing that vlad might need psychological help. Which he feels pretty (REALLY) bad about.

Danny has no idea what to do, and no idea who to go to.

So he sneaks out, doesnt even go ghost as he takes the powerpoint to vlad who obviously freaks tf out because holy shit thats SO MUCH WORSE THAN ANYTHING HE COULD HAVE POSSIBLY IMAGINED. What if he had actually hurt daniel? What if he had hurt his precious Madeline?? He needs help like yesterday! How did he ever get so bad???!

So Vlad freaks, trashes his own house, apologizes to danny, and books it through the portal to find the far frozen or somewhere else he can get help.

Danny is somewhat shellshocked about the whole situation. It doesnt get better when people start investigating Vlads disappearance.

The state of the manor indicates foul play and the police look into it further. Find security tapes. They see danny, frazzled and paranoid, enter Vlads property, everything goes to static, and only danny leaves.

Hes arrested of course, and he and his friends/family are interrogated.

Everybody vehemently denies that Danny would ever do such a thing, but when they are asked if danny has potential motives everyone (except for jack) gets all squeamish.

Its practically common knowledge in Amity Park that the mayor and the weird Fenton child had beef. People just were unsure why.

I think it would be really cool to focus a story around the polices pov of the investigation/ random Amity Parkers interpretation of the events.

Danny being kinda creepy after the accident (because death) could totally make people assume he did it and that would be awesome.

We can also add in de-aged Dani/Ellie and or Dan for that extra spice.

Imagine the fentons finding out about Dannys supposed kids in the context that they are MOTIVES FOR THEIR SON TO MURDER THEIR COLLAGE FRIEND ( AND DANNYS OWN GODFATHER) WHO APPARENTLY GROOMED HIM???!? AND THEY DIDNT EVEN NOTICE??!?

This could totally be a crossover too. Lucifer tv show. Batman. Supernatural. All are good.

Anyway, thought this could be kinda interesting

Please continue if you want

[whumpcereal]

the kennel, part twenty

part of the the kennel (masterlist here). long time, no write! a follow-up to this ask. the taglist isn’t working for whatever reason, so please keep this visible if you are so inclined.

content warnings for: extreme dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, heavily implied noncon, human trafficking, cages, brief references to mouth whump, cold exposure and related maladies

part twenty, two by four

Will’s cage is still empty when the evening feeding is over. The others are in the recreation yard, relieving themselves before they return to the kennel for the evening. Annie doesn’t watch them the way Doc does. She knows that it embarrasses them, and she knows just as well as they do that there is nowhere they can run. Pets get spooked sometimes, she knows. Sometimes, they take off without knowing where they are going. But they never get far, so Annie doesn’t need to worry. 

Instead, she stands at the deep stainless steel sink in the grooming annex, rinsing the dinner bowls of the rescues who aren’t on rations. She made a big pot of mashed potatoes tonight. Frozen peas and carrots. Things that are easy to gum or swallow as they might need to; some of their training makes soft food a necessity. 

She knows the rescues are grateful for her care, but she doesn’t watch them eat either. They drop their faces into their dinner bowls and they eat like the good pets her father has trained them to be, but there is something about it that makes Annie feel uneasy. She knows Doc is helping them, that he’s saved them from whatever was waiting for them beyond the kennel, but none of them seem happy. Doc says that it’s hard for them to leave their old lives behind, even if those old lives had already come to an end. 

Will doesn’t have a dinner bowl. He’s not even on rations. Doc handles all of his feeding, what little of it there is. Doc says that it is because Will is a naughty mutt; he needs to be taught discipline to make sure that he will be able to find his forever home. But it makes Annie’s chest tight to look at him. Will was soft when he was first rescued. There was something about him that made Annie think of a big teddy bear. He isn’t soft anymore. He isn’t himself anymore–at least as much as Annie can tell. Things changed when Doc began taking him to the doghouse. 

Annie knows the doghouse is for the rescues Doc considers the most special. Doc knew when he rescued Will and Champ–Annie can’t remember what his name was before–that Champ was meant for the doghouse. Her father says that Champ is a natural, that he’ll have his forever home in no time, just like Justin’s Tony–Fido, Doc called him. But her father doesn’t think Will is special. Whatever happens to Will out there, it’s part of his training–and Annie knows he doesn’t like it. He isn’t a natural. It isn’t easy. 

It happens that way. Like with Justin. Doc’s training him to be an attack dog, and the training isn’t gentle, even though Justin is. But Doc can always see what a rescue’s real purpose is, even if Annie can’t. 

Doc took Will out to the doghouse this morning, but he isn’t back yet. It doesn’t normally take so long. Doc likes to finish work early enough to enjoy his own dinner in the big house, which means everyone needs to be bedded down and locked up at a reasonable hour. If he’s running late–

Annie tries to ignore the pit in her stomach. Everything is fine. Doc knows best, and if they are running late, it must be because he is giving Will some kind of extra attention. Not that Doc’s attention has done Will many favors since he’s arrived. 

The others crawl in from the yard, bare skin chapped red from the cold, and Annie shakes off her anxiety. She moves from cage to cage, propping wire doors open and resituating blankets and pillows for those who have earned them. She offers a gentle touch to each of them as they get settled, and a few of them try to smile back at her. She runs back to the grooming annex for their nighttime treats: a flimsy foam toothbrush on a cardboard stick and a tray of sedatives in little paper cups. Most of them can handle their own bedtime routine, but Annie helps those who cannot use their hands. When their treats are gone, the rescues close their own cages, and Annie locks up behind them. 

“Good night,” she whispers to each of them, using their old names. She isn’t supposed to, but what Doc doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Training doesn’t have to be painful. Annie thinks it would be better if it was never painful, but she isn’t the expert. 

When she comes to lock Justin’s cage, he peeks up at her from the pillow of his wrists. “You okay, Annie?” he whispers, his words slightly garbled thanks to his missing teeth. Doc is going to implant the metal set he had made sometime in the next few weeks. 

Annie gently closes the padlock. “Mmhmm.”

“You’re worried about the kid, huh?” 

Annie doesn’t answer. 

“Yeah. Well. You should be,” Justin murmurs, and then he turns his face away. 

Annie’s stomach sinks. 

Within a quarter-hour, the room is heavy with sleep. Her father and Will still haven’t come back. Annie shuts off the fluorescent overheads and starts her evening rounds. She clicks on a few strategically placed space heaters, hoping it will be enough for those who don’t have blankets tonight. She should go back to the big house, make sure that the pot roast she put in the crockpot hasn’t overcooked, but she can’t make herself leave. Not before she knows what’s happened to Will. 

It’s another twenty minutes before the door creaks open. Annie is in the grooming annex, sitting inside one of the big metal tubs. She springs to her feet. 

“Annie Marie?” Doc’s whisper is terse. “Where are you?” 

Annie scrambles over the edge of the tub and into the kennel. Her hand flies to her throat when she sees the body at the end of the lead in Doc’s hand. 

“Daddy–” 

Will is barely conscious, his bare skin almost blue in the dim light. His dark hair, thinning and past his shoulders now, is heavy with ribbons of ice. The marks of today’s training–blood and shiny smears on his chin, his chest, between his legs–look hard as resin. He should be shivering, but he doesn’t move. 

Annie forgets herself and drops to her knees beside him. Will. She touches his forehead; he is a block of ice. Annie bends closer to him, hoping that he knows she’s there. His brown eyes are glassy and unmoving. 

Doc drops the leash and pulls off his own fleece-lined gloves, letting them fall to the floor. He crouches down beside her. The door is still open, and Annie can see his breath. 

“I left him out longer than I meant to,” he says easily. “Thought the fresh air might do him good while I had a little heart to heart with my Champ.” 

“Close the door!” Annie begs. Doc complies, but Annie doesn’t look away from Will. 

Her chest surges with heat. She knows she shouldn’t be angry. Doc didn’t mean to do it. He just forgot. This was an accident. But how could he forget? He’s supposed to take care of the rescues. He’s supposed to know better. He’s supposed to be better. At least, Annie thought he was.

Annie can barely see through her tears. She grabs Will’s frozen wrist. She can feel a pulse, just barely.  

“He’ll be fine,” Doc scoffs from above her. “I’m sure he’s just caught a chill.” 

Will is barely breathing. When Annie looks down, she sees that his naked toes are waxy and blue-gray. Her gorge rises, but she forces it back down. 

“I need to get him warm,” Annie says, more to herself than to Doc. She takes off her flannel and drapes it over Will’s trunk. She wants to wrap it closer around him, but something stops her. 

Doc nods. “I’ll help you get him in the back. I figured you wouldn’t mind taking care of him. But I’m beat. It was tough in there today, and I think I’ll head in for dinner once we get him settled.” 

One of Annie’s tears breaks loose, but she thumbs it away. “He can’t sleep in the cage tonight.”

“That’s fine. It was my mistake, I guess.” 

“And he’ll need clothes. And more than just water.” 

Doc waves his hand in assent. “Sure. Whatever gets him ready for training.” 

Annie feels like her chest might explode. She forces breath through her nose. “He’ll need a few days.” 

“Just so long as you don’t let any of the others suffer on his account. He might be making some progress, but this little mutt isn’t worth too much fuss.” 

“I won’t,” Annie says shortly.

“Annie Marie, you know I’m just doing my job.” 

There is something strange in Doc’s tone, and Annie knows she’s flirting with some kind of line. She doesn’t disobey. She doesn’t challenge him. She knows better. 

She makes herself look up from Will’s slack face. “I know, Daddy.” 

Doc smiles and bends down to scoop Will’s body against his barrel chest. Annie knows she would never have been able to move Will on her own, but something about seeing Will’s head lolling against her father’s chest makes her belly feel hard. She follows Doc between the cages and into the grooming annex. 

“Why don’t you spread one of those old horse blankets on the floor, baby?” 

Annie rushes to the cabinet. Will should have a bed. He should have a quilt and pillows. He shouldn’t be here at all. 

She  snaps up the blanket, suddenly frightened that her father may have heard what she was thinking. She drops it on the floor and smooths it out just before Doc unceremoniously dumps Will’s body on top of it. There is a hollow thunk as Will’s head hits the floor.

“You’re a sweet girl, baby. But you don’t have to worry. I know he’ll be just fine. And do you know I know?”

Will whimpers a little, and it takes everything Annie has to keep her eyes on her father. “How?”

“Because you’re taking care of him, and I taught you everything I know.” 

Doc leans forward to press a kiss to Annie’s forehead, but for the first time in her life, Annie doesn’t find it even remotely comforting. 

“Is there dinner up at the house?” 

“Pot roast. And I made potatoes and veggies too.” 

“That’s my girl,” Doc says, giving Annie a final squeeze. He doesn’t even look at Will. “Should I fix you a plate?” 

Annie shakes her head. “I already ate.” She hasn’t, but she doesn’t care; her stomach is in knots. 

“Well, don’t stay up too late now. The mutt will be just fine.” 

“I just want to make sure,” she says softly. Will’s mittened hands twitch against the blanket. Doc doesn’t notice. Of course he doesn’t. 

“My sweet girl,” he says again. He shoves his hands in his pockets and moves toward the door. “Alright then.” 

“Good night, Daddy.” Annie hopes that her voice sounds normal, but the words almost curdle in her mouth. Her father has never felt less familiar to her. 

“Good night, baby.” 

Doc leaves without a backward glance. He will go home to the big house, and he will sit at their table, and he will eat his pot roast with a knife and fork. He will take a warm shower to wash off his day before he climbs into his big four-poster bed and wraps up warm in a down comforter. When he wakes tomorrow, he will wear clothes that he can button with his own two hands, and he will walk on two legs, and he will not think about the people who live on his property that cannot do the same. Because he doesn’t think of them as people. Annie’s just never realized it before. 

She feels like she’s been struck in the chest by a two-by-four, but she doesn’t have time to collapse. Will is only just stirring on the floor; he needs her now.  

taglist: @darkthingshappen, @oddsconvert, @sparrowsage, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @mylifeisonthebookshelf,

@highwaywhump, @squishablesunbeam, @hold-him-down, @whumpsday,

@sowhumpful, @termsnconditions-apply, @irishwhiskeygrl, @deltaxxk, @d-cs,

@whumpinggrounds, @canislycaon24, @considerablecolors, @starlit-darkness, @scp-1296,

@flowersarefreetherapy, @morning-star-whump, @whumpwhittler, @susiequaz12, @whump-world,

@hiding-in-the-shadows, @tasteywhumpee, @whumplr-reader, @sad-boys-anonymous, @whumpzone

NOTE: Pretty sure this taglist is out of date, so please let me know if I've missed adding you. I've been so absent that I'm fairly certain I did not update appropriately.

[serickswrites]

Little Thing

Warnings: captivity, chemical restraints, drugging, implied noncon, creepy/intimate whumper

"Oh you sweet, precious, little thing," Whumper cooed as they cupped Whumpee's cheek. "I am going to enjoy taking my time with you." They kissed Whumpee on the lips.

Whumpee couldn't move. They could barely breathe. It took everything in them to keep their eyes open, and even then, they could feel their grip on the consciousness slipping. They weren't sure what Whumper had injected them with. All they knew was that they could barely move and the moment their world began to grow hazy, Whumper began to touch them.

"You are such a lovely, little thing," Whumper kissed down Whumpee's neck. "I just had to make you mine. So lovely, so perfect."

Whumpee blinked back tears as Whumper kissed down their exposed chest. This was unspeakably evil. This was something they did not want to be awake for. This was the worst thing Whumpee had experienced.

"Don't worry, little thing," Whumper looked up at Whumpee across their body, "I'll be gentle with you. I want you to last longer than some of the others."

Whumpee closed their eyes, allowing themself to drift closer to unconsciousness. They didn't want to be awake for the next part. Mercifully, the waiting dark consumed them.

[bloodstainedembrace]

this hits me SO hard emotionally she is an excellent actress. the realistic emotion she displays speaking of it. good god

[suncaptor]

is there really a difference? or is wanting it just how you're damned?