#noncon touching

[missbunnybunny]

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗

▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊.

╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝

𝕿𝖜: ☞ 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝙽𝚘𝚗-𝚌𝚘𝚗, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 thoughts, 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢, 𝙱reeding, 𝙼ind break, 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖, 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃! «🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» ☜

Note: This is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader.  pet names such as Darlin, Love, and Good Girl, etc. are used.

If I forgot something plz tell me. Like and re-blog, it helps getting these stories to new people!

🫧𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖓', 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓' ❣️💌💌 part 1

Y/n was startled awake and panicked. Holding the sheets over her naked body, she found herself in an unfamiliar room. 

Silent tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. He tricked you and took advantage of your kindness. 

You mourned your lost innocence for a short time when a knock on the door interrupted you. 

“ I apologize for waking you up, miss Y/n.” a handsome man wearing a suit and carrying a tablet said. 

The scared woman clenched the sheets tightly, “ My name is Ray. Mister Blackwell has asked for you to join him for breakfast.” the man expressed. 

“n-No! I want to go home…let me go!” Y/n cried, face red from crying. “ I'm afraid I can not let you do that.” he shakes his head, “The maids will come and help you dress,” Ray commented before turning and leaving the room.

You cried until your lungs burned and hurt. Until your body could no longer produce tears, the maids shortly came. They helped you bathe and dress in a beautiful gown. They tried to cheer you up, but it was to no avail. 

Soon, Y/n sat next to James at a large binning table. He kissed your cheek and caressed your skin. His touch was sweet and caring if it didn’t disgust you. Food was served, but you didn’t want to eat. You don’t trust that it’s not drugged again.

“ Say ah~ my dear,” he says, pressing a fork to your mouth. When you don’t respond, he squeezes your inner thigh. When your lips parted in a yelp, he fed you. He continued to feed you. If you didn’t open your lips fast enough, he would swirl your sensitive pearl. 

The food was finished, and tears dripped down your soft skin. “ Come on, smile for me, sweetheart,” he asked, cupping your face and whipping your tears. “ I just want to go home.” You tearfully repeated. 

“ We can’t have that, dear. This is your new home.” James informed her as he stole a kiss from her. “ I want to go to my store,” Y/n pleaded. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

“ I already told your employees to take a weeks-long paid break.” James, shut your request down. He wasn’t going to tell you that, but Ray hacked your email and made such arrangements.  

Your face dropped all hope of escaping, where shattered. 

It had been a few days, and James made sure that all doors were locked, and Ray informed you that you could go anywhere. But strongly warned that you couldn’t be outside without supervision. 

James never left your side for your entire time locked in the large mansion. Sleeping, bathing, or even walking, he was there touching any sliver of skin he could. If he couldn’t find you for a moment or have his hands on you, he would lose his shit. 

James knocked on the door to his room, smiling when he found your sleeping figure under the covers. 

He kissed your lips, his tongue intruding your mouth. Lifting the covers from your naked body, his fingers began to caress your sensitive bundle of nerves. He thanked himself for prohibiting you from wearing clothes to bed. 

Your back arched as you woke up with a moan. He knew you were still sensitive from last night. His fingers began to pump into your flower, while his thumb still caressed your clit. Y/n hit his toned chest, but that only fueled his passion even more. 

Your lips parted as he gave you a dreamy sign. “ I have to go into the office, honey,” James spoke, latching his mouth to your chest. Your hand pulled on his hair, making the man moan. 

James curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot, over and over. The tight coil in your stomach made you whine, walls clamping on his fingers. 

With one more firm thrust, the coil in your tummy snapped. Honey gushed over his hand, withdrawing his hand, and licked it clean.

“ I have a meeting today, so unfortunately I won't be with you for a few hours. Be a good girl and behave.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, taking his leave and leaving you tired. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Y/n walked towards the side door, hoping, begging that she would get lucky. And it seemed that her prayers were answered. The maids forgot to close the door.

Her hand trembled and twisted the doorknob, slowly opening it. The wind blew, signaling she was one step closer to freedom. The door was left ajar as the woman ran to the street, with no phone and no way to contact her family and friends.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, ending up in the station. One she couldn’t enter because she had no money. An old lady exiting the station called out to her, asking if she was okay. 

Y/n said she was, but her eyes betrayed her. The kind old lady offered her help, to which she took it. “ I…I just need help to run away,” she admitted, desperate to leave. She didn’t know when they would have already noticed her absence.

The kind lady smiled and accompanied her to buy a ticket. When she handed the ticket to Y/n, the girl cried, thanking her. 

Y/n gave the lady all the jewelry she had, as a thanks and wanting to part with them in fear of recognition.

The train had arrived, and she left. Free, she was free. 

She planned to return home, take all her valuables, and disappear. She would be sad to close her store, but it was needed. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James sat in the meeting, bored, his assistant as always trying to get his attention with skimpy clothes. She would never be like Y/n. She was dirt under his goddess's feet. 

Ray came into the meeting room, whispering something into the CEO's ear. James looked like a deer caught in headlights, “ You sure?” he asked, looking at Ray. The man only nodded. 

“ I apologize, but something important has come up.” he expressed, standing up and abruptly ending the meeting.  

“ Ray, get the helicopter. I’m bringing my little darlin’ wife home.” James expressed, loosening his tie. 

The train ride was an hour and a half, so she could get some well-needed rest. But her mind raced, what ifs consumed your every thought.

 “ Ladies and gentlemen, we inform you that the train will have a small delay. We shall be on standby for some time.”  the conductor announced, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard. 

Dread filled your stomach, making it sink. 

“ Miss, please come with us.” a man in a suit said, “ You have the wrong person,” Y/n said, hoping it would work. 

“ My sweetheart, don’t make me punish you. Not in front of everyone here.” James said in a low voice.  His threat made you shake, trembling, hand taking his extended one. 

There was no hope of escaping the lion's den once you had stepped inside.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James held Y/n’s hand tightly, making sure she wouldn’t escape as he took her to his room. He thrusts her towards the bed, “ If you love me, you’ll never do that again. Understand?” he warns, removing his tie. 

Y/n backed away until her back hit the headboard. The muscular man graded her leg and pulled her under him. 

She began to beg him to let her go, that she would stay and not run away. He shoves his tie in your pretty plump lips. 

Only allowing for moans and whines to filter through. 

He has you caged in between his meaty arms, his gaze held a lustful and hungry glint to them. 

Tears fell as if rain from your eyes, “ Don’t cry, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” he kisses your tears.

Your tears felt like acid to his skin. He much rather you cry from pleasure. With his free hand, he removed his belt, tying your hands with them as if they were handcuffs. 

He rose and looked at your posed figure, his legs trapped by your hips, so you couldn’t escape from his embrace. 

He was going to make you feel better, make you see the high heavens. He began to worship your being kissing every scar, stretch mark, and so on. Any imperfection to you was perfection, a divine perfection to him.

Created by a higher being to be held, kissed, bitten, and claimed. 

He hiked your leg over his shoulder as he caressed your skin. Leaving kisses and hickeys over the skin. 

His hungry eyes looked at your teary ones, as he bit your leg.

His gaze lowered to your panties as he stared at them in hate like the small piece of clothing was holding your honey captive. 

The small piece of clothing became shredded into pieces when he ripped them. His rightful treasure was now on full display to him and only him.

 His large hand that once held your hip moved to your sex. With his index and middle finger, he spread your fold, groaning at the glittering sight of your slick.

His painfully hard member twitched upon seeing your dripping, aroused flower.

He groans, “ All this honey just for me?” he cups your cunt, feeling how it clenched around nothing.

Without warning, two larger fingers impale you, thrusting at an unforgiving pace. A long whine spills from your lips as you arch at the feeling.

He's hitting every sweet spot and curve inside you. His bulge grows even more at the sound of your watery juices. 

His thumb connects with your sensitive, neglected pearl, making you squirm and try to close your leg.

He slaps your pussy at the defiance, making electric pleasures shot throughout your body and brain. 

Y/n can feel the coil in her stomach tighten. Her hips met his thrust in chase of her own high. 

James speeds up his movements, watching as your eyes cross when he hits that spot.

Your walls begin to constrict his fingers, telling him that you're close. He bites the meat of your leg, his finger hitting deep inside you. 

Y/n came undone, eyes rolled to the back of her skull, drooling, back arch, and a pornographic moan of pleasure.

Cum covered his veiny fingers and his toned stomach. 

The sight almost made him cum in his pants. But, that milk was saved for his darlin's womb.

James pulled his pants down, allowing his hardened member to slap your sex. Thick and veiny. 

With your cum he gave himself a few pumps. The big man leans forward, his tip kissing your inviting honeyed entrance. 

“ See, you're so wet and sweet for me. You wanted this didn’t you?” he asks, his face flushed. 

His cock began to enter your wet, gummy walls, inch by inch. 

His hips stutter a little, and his body trembles with pleasure. The feeling of your lips sucking him in. 

With one hard thrust, he bottoms out in you. You moan, feeling so full, he begins to hump his manhood against your entrance. 

His almost in a trance, the sound of slick and moans adding to his resolve.

Each furious thrust thrusted her forward in the bed. His tip kissing her womb over and over, you’re moaning and pleas falling on deaf ears.

The makeshift gag swallowed all any sound that was not your monas, the sweet sounds of pleasure he wanted to hear from you. 

Y/n’s leg was still hooked over his shoulder. With his hands, he held her hips in a boa-constricting grip. 

Your overstimulated wall pulsed and twitched, “ Oh, you like that, huh?” he says, still drilling into her like a jackhammer. His hand pressed on the bulge in your small tummy. 

This made your walls tighten and pulse. His words and actions manipulated your dizzy pleasure-filled mind.

“ My pretty darlin’ going to look so beautiful, all swelled up with my child.” he groaned at the thought. Each thrust made your vision sparkle as if stars. 

The all-too-familiar feeling of the tight coil forming in your belly told you that you were close. James's thrust became uncoordinated as he chased that mind-numbing high he was looking for.

“You’ll make a cute mommy.” he moans. He removes your gag, as you beg and cry for him not to, but he crashes his lips against yours. 

He was going to snap you in half with the way he was bending your leg and fucking you at the same time.

The kiss was stymie, adding to the many pleasures you were feeling. Your mind was becoming blank, and you could only think of his dick inside you.

With a final harsh thrust, the coil in your gut snapped like a water gun. squirting over the man's abdomen and your inner thigh. 

James began to convulse, spilling his large fertile load at the feeling of your womb milking him dry. 

You felt so stuffed full and overstimulated. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become a mommy, a slave to his man's cock. James’s load pulsed inside you, making his cum spill from your spent hole.

You will be the perfect cock-sleeve darlin’ for him, your eyes closed as sleep takes over you. a content smile on your face. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Tag list:

@tremendousdinosaurpizza @violetvase

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

©𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢! 𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎. - 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢🩻!

#yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #dark content #cw somnophilia #cw noncon #tw noncon #yandere x reader lemon #x reader #yandere oc #yandere smut #original yandere #pretty yandere #noncon touching #female reader #male yandere #💌james #💌yan #like or reblog #tw somno #tw.breeding #mind break #smutty #smut fanfiction #darlingcore #obsessive love #pretty yan #yandere x y/n #roughfuck #tw overstim

[skumhuu]

✨👑 Throne 👑✨ pages 17-18

Beginning

< • >

#Sku art #throne comic #utmv #dreammare #noncon touching #fear #horror #soft bad end #tasty bad end #suggestive #unsympathetic nightmare #unsympathetic killer #HE’S BACK #KILLER (and Cross) IS BACK!!! #here comes the boooooy hello boy welcome #at long last we get Dream crying his little apple heart out while Cross gets stepped on #I am very happy with this outcome 😌

[whumpshaped]

UR REBLOG INSPIRED ME

Winged pet whumpee, right? Except the whumper knows how birds work, as they have many exotic ones from their travels. Whumper isn’t cruel per se, they’d never hurt their pets. Just clip their wings.

Thing is, pet bird etiquette is to never pet their wings. Petting down the back or under the wings can lead to a sexually frustrated bird or a bird who perceives you as a mate rather than a companion. A mated bonded bird can be hostile to others in your home, becoming jealous or possessive of you

So. Whumpee gets their wings pet and has to deal with the strong innate instincts that come with it.

tw noncon touching, captivity, nonhuman whumpee, winged whumpee, intimate whumper

It was embarrassing. Whumpee couldn’t believe that with all this experience and knowledge on winged creatures, this was the one thing Whumper… forgot, or was misinformed on. They sat rigidly still as their owner petted their wings, mind reeling with all the emotions that came with it. 

There was no way Whumper didn’t know. There was no way. This had to be intentional, and if it was, it was either to humiliate them or—

No. It was definitely to humiliate them. There was no fucking way Whumper wanted anything from them, or if they did, well, Whumpee definitely wanted nothing from their captor. They didn’t. They really didn’t, even as heat rose to their face and their heart began to beat a little faster.

“My pretty little bird,” Whumper cooed, seemingly lost in the sensation of running their fingers along Whumpee’s soft feathers. “My perfect little dove. Aren’t you so lucky that I decided to take you in?”

Whumpee took a shuddering breath, unable to answer without risking some unwanted sounds to escape as well. They didn’t want anything to do with Whumper. They didn’t.

“I’m so happy I found you. There’s truly no greater joy than waking up to this sight every morning.”

They gasped as Whumper made another pass, dragging their hand down their wing while putting a bit more pressure on it. It felt so good, it felt just right, and Whumpee couldn’t help but wonder how this human was so skillful with every one of their movements. They weren’t Whumper’s first pet harpy, were they? Oh, the thought was absolutely revolting. And annoying. They wished they’d been the first.

No, what were they thinking?

“Stop,” they whimpered, closing their eyes in shame at how their voice sounded. It was weak and breathy, not at all firm and demanding like they had been going for.

“Stop?” Whumper leaned a little closer, that sickening grin still plastered on their face. “Why would I, when you’re enjoying yourself so much?”

#asks #whump #whump drabble #noncon touching #captivity #nonhuman whumpee #winged whumpee #intimate whumper

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

In march, you wrote a snippet of a love potion thingy with villain and hero. What happens to them next

(Oops I'm very late to respond to this. I didn't forget! I'm just slow and in college)

This is a sequel to THIS. It is recommended you read for context, but it can be summed up as "Superhero drugs Villain with a love potion, then offers them Hero in exchange for Villain not causing trouble."

Content warning: mutual noncon, non consensual touching (nonsexual), noncon drugging, maybe vaguely spicy but not at all NSFW.

Hero had never felt more helpless in their life.

The cuffs on their limbs were unyielding, keeping them locked into the metal chair beneath them. They were trapped in Villain’s hideout, no chances of reaching the outside world, no hope of reasoning with their captor. If anyone noticed their absence, they’d surely be too late to save them.

Villain remained perched on Hero’s lap, legs possessively straddling their waist. Their face was flush, eyes glassy and skin unnaturally warm. Their dazed, blissful grin was uncanny on their face. They looked sick.

The love potion was still clutched in their fingers. Hero knew that once they were forced to drink it, they’d end up with the same blissful, clueless smile painted on Villain’s face.

“Baby, don’t be stubborn,” Villain’s words were clear despite the haze in their eyes. They gave Hero a pleading look. “Just open your mouth for me. I don’t want to force you…”

“P-please, you don’t want this. Superhero drugged you; you’re not in your right mind,” they knew it was pointless, that Villain was far beyond reasoning. But they couldn’t stop themselves from trying.

Their pleas fell on deaf ears. Villain only chuckled, dragging a thumb over Hero’s lips. “Of course I want this. I want you, I always have. Superhero just helped me realize that.”

Villains’s touch felt like sandpaper against their skin. It wasn’t that they disliked Villain, nor that the criminal was unattractive. They were charming at times, quick witted and cunning. They were gorgeous. But Hero didn’t want this. Not when Villain didn’t have a choice, not when it was part of some sick scheme to remove Villain by stripping them of free will. It was sick, and Hero felt dirty for their unwilling part in it.

Their eyes stung. “I don’t want this.”

For a moment, Villain’s grin faltered. That didn’t stop them from popping the vial in their hand open. “I know. I didn’t want it either, until I learned better,” without hesitation, Villain brought the potion to their own mouth, swallowing a mouthful. Hero knew what was coming the moment Villain leaned forward, but they felt paralyzed when Villain’s lips touched their own. For a brief moment, they could only think of how soft Villain’s lips were.

They could taste the potion on Villain’s tongue. It was sickly sweet, like a cake that’d begun to sour. It was viscous, slimey. They tried to pull away on instinct, but Villain’s possessive grip on the back of their head didn’t allow for it. Hero shivered as they felt Villain's tongue brush against their own.

Distantly, Hero hoped that the tainted kiss wouldn’t be enough to affect them. A sudden wave of unnatural dizziness quickly proved them wrong. They squeezed their eyes shut against the disorientation, breathing deeply to steady themselves. They tried to ignore how their senses suddenly latched onto the smell of Villain’s hair.

Villain eventually released them. “There. Now was that so bad?” Villain cooed, breath brushing against Hero’s cheek. They shifted their position, moving themselves to rest their head against Hero’s shoulder. Hero had no room to pull away.

“Villain, please,” It felt like the potion was coating every surface of their mouth, making their teeth ache. They needed to get out. “You got what you wanted, so just let me–,” They paused as a sudden pain pulsed through their body, causing them to grimace. Felt like their every muscle had gone suddenly, painfully taught. Like every heartbeat was fueling a rising pain. Like every inch of skin was being rubbed raw.

They inhaled sharply, taken aback. They’d never heard about love potions hurting.

Villain seemed to read their mind. “It’s a little precaution from your…friend,” something hard entered Villain’s voice, something nearly recognizable as their normal self. “You can’t will it away, Hero. It’s agonizing, I can promise you that. And it’ll only get worse if you insist on being stubborn. So please,” and just like that, the sharpness of their tone dissolved back into a lovesick whine. “Just open your eyes. I can’t stand seeing you suffer.”

Hero didn’t respond, too focused on taking slow, deep breaths in hopes of abating the pain. It hurt, it hurt everywhere, building with each moment. They clenched tightly at the chair beneath them, flinching with each growing pulse of pain.

Their only comfort was the warm weight on their lap. Villain’s touch chased away the growing pain, a reprieve Hero found themselves increasingly desperate for. But every cell in Hero’s body knew that it wouldn’t be enough. It was like dipping a foot into cool water while the rest of their body burned.

They didn’t need Villain to tell them how to stop it. Relief was a blink away. Hero squeezed their eyes shut.

They could feel Villain’s eyes on them. “What point is there in this stubbornness? Darling, you’re only hurting yourself.”

“I have to!” Hero spat through gritted teeth. Their breath hitched, and Hero didn’t know if it was sweat or tears running down their face. “This is wrong, Superhero’s wrong,” They leaned into Villain’s touch, desperate for relief. It wasn’t nearly enough. “And I-, I need to help you. You have to let me go.”

Villain only laughed, and Hero’s heart soared at the melodic noise. “You truly are something. So earnest, all for someone like me…” Villain leaned forward once more, and Hero’s breath caught in their throat. Villain’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I’ll compromise then, yes? Kiss me, and I’ll let you go.”

They could feel Villain’s face near theirs, mere inches away. But Villain didn’t move closer. Hero shivered.

It was a bad idea, a horrible idea. Hero knew that. They were disgusted with how tempted they were to lean in regardless. Their heart pounded at the thought, quieting the morals screaming for them to stop.

They needed to get out. They could escape Villain, wait for the potion to leave their system, and try again. If saving Villain meant a single kiss, then that was alright, wasn’t it?

They desperately wanted it to be alright. The pain rose another octave, and Hero was leaning forward before they could reconsider.

Relief flowed through their body at the contact, quieting their mind. Villain gave a low, satisfied hum, and Hero swallowed the noise greedily. They felt a blush rising to their cheeks, their heart fluttering with joy. They tugged at their restraints, wishing they could wrap their arms around Villain and pull them in.

They felt like they were losing themselves, and it was becoming harder to understand why that was a bad thing. But it was fine. As long as they didn’t let things go too far. As long as they didn’t open their–

Villain pulled away suddenly, and it felt like the floor had fallen from underneath Hero. The loss of their touch hurt more than anything they’d ever felt.

“No!” Their body lurched forward on instinct, chasing after the contact. They didn’t realize they’d been freed until they’d unwittingly launched themselves from their chair. With a startled gasp, Hero tumbled forward, sending themselves and Villain to the ground. Villain yelped in pain underneath them.

Hero didn’t realize they’d opened their eyes until they’d already started diligently searching Villain’s body for injuries. They only found a beautiful, triumphant grin, and found that they couldn’t tear their eyes away. Pain drained away, replaced so swiftly with a pleasant, warm buzz that Hero could scarcely remember it. Their reservations were smothered by all consuming, contented joy.

“You’re too easy, darling,” Villain purred, a mischievous twinkle in their eye. Their hair laid like a halo around their head, framing their flushed face in an utterly hypnotic way. Hero couldn’t remember why they’d ever want to look away.

Hero couldn’t find the words to respond. They could only smile.

#whump #whumpee #whumper #my stuff #hero x villain #intimate whumper #noncon touching #whumpee turned whumper #villain whumper #villain whumpee #(get you a man who can do both) #hero whumpee #superhero whumper #drugged whumpee #noncon drugging #love potion

[whumpbump]

Immersion Therapy

Cw: noncon (nonsexual) touching, noncon drugging, mentions of PTSD, control by a big organization, forced immersion therapy, forced ABA, forced conversion therapy

Whumpee was diagnosed with PTSD and under the Caretaking Organization’s decision, Whumpee was to go through immersion therapy with their assigned Caretaker.

Whumpee’s immersion therapy was to sit on Caretaker’s lap for an hour, three times a week while being hugged to overcome their aversion to being touched and held.

Caretaker was given their orders and uncomfortable with the decision made, tried to gently explain to Whumpee what would be happening from the doorway of Whumpee’s room. Caretaker received an “Absolutely NOT” from the lump of blankets on the bed and with that, closed the door and reported back.

An injectable sedative was delivered to Caretaker’s doorstep within three hours.

Caretaker took a deep breath and called to Whumpee from the doorway.

“Whumpee? It’s time for immersion therapy. The sooner we do it, the sooner it’s over.”

The lump of blankets was silent. This was generally Whumpee’s way of saying no without having to verbalize. Typical avoidance behaviors like pretending they can’t hear or looking away so they can’t acknowledge by looking in Caretaker’s eyes that they’ve been told something.

Caretaker swallowed uncomfortably, knowing what was likely coming next.

“Whumpee, I’m giving you the chance to try it out before we move on to next steps.”

The lump was silent and seemed to become quieter if that was even possible.

Caretaker walked over to the blankets, pulled them back and quickly sunk the needle into exposed flesh. Whumpee looked up in surprise and horror as Caretaker pulled the needle away and clicked the safety cap on.

In an instant, Whumpee bolted for the door. Caretaker followed, concerned they would fall down the steps. Fortunately Caretaker was able to pass Whumpee on the stairs as they slowed significantly, cursing up a storm in slurred speech. When they did end up sliding towards the floor, Caretaker was there to catch them and scoop them up. Like a small child restrained by a parent during a tantrum, Whumpee huffed and cried as they tried to wiggle away from the offending arms.

Caretaker calmly sat them both on the couch and curled Whumpee into their body as their hour together started. Whumpee cried and cried. Caretaker cried too, knowing this was not therapeutic in any sense of the word and would only cause Whumpee to lose trust in them but they had their orders and would lose their job if they refused.

As they sat, Caretaker apologized profusely through their tears and explained they had to do this lest they lose their job and Whumpee end up with someone not as caring, only in it for the money. Whumpee understood this but was so overwhelmed by the touch and shock of being drugged that all they could do was make big ugly sobs into Caretaker’s shirt.

Caretaker wiped Whumpee’s tears and nose with a tissue and shushed them while rubbing small circles on their back, patting them, and rocking them intermittently. They felt Whumpee’s heart rate slow and Whumpee allowed the drugs to lull them to sleep. As they slept, Caretaker thought deeply about the events that had unfolded, leading them to this moment. Was it worth it to stay in the Organization if this was how they treated their patients?

#whumpee #whumpblr #whump blog #whump ideas #whump #whump inspiration #whump tropes #caretaker x whumpee #noncon drugging #noncon touching #aba tw #conversion

[montammil]

CW: Recapturing, creepy Whumper, drugging, noncon touching

...

Whumpee has been alone in the house for a few days, and slowly their paranoia has gone down. They always felt nervous being away from Caretaker for too long, but it’s been almost two months since their return, so they understand Caretaker isn’t willing to risk their job and not go on that business trip.

As Whumpee takes another sip of their water, however, they begin to feel dizzy. They feel sick at the familiar feeling, remembering how Whumper used to drug them and they’d... 

...feel exactly like this.

They try to stand and grab their phone on their bed, but only make it two steps before falling to the floor. They open their eyes to see expensive shoes striding their way, they don’t even need to look up to know who it is.

“I’m offended, in all honesty. Did you really think you could get away from me? Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

“Please, don’t do this,” Whumpee begs. “Please.”

A smirk rises to Whumper’s lips. “Poor thing. You’ve grown so spoiled, you forgot your place. That’s okay, because you know what? I’m here now, and I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Whumpee goes deadweight when their captor picks them up, cradling them like Caretaker would. They cry and try to keep pleading, but each plead comes out as a pained moan.

As Whumper carries them out, they notice a framed picture on the wall. They stare at it, saying amusedly, “You look so happy in this picture, darling.” They snatch the picture and throw it to the ground, crushing it beneath their shoe. “Happiness isn’t a pretty look on you. I think I like these more.” They thumb away their tears.

“Pl-- pleas--”

“Shh...” Whumper drags their thumb from their cheek to their lips. “Save those pretty pleads for later. You’ll need them.”

#whump #whump writing #whumper x whumpee #whumpee x whumper #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #creepy/intimate whumper #whumpee #whumper #recapture whump #drugged whumpee #drugging whump #noncon touching #tw drugging #tw noncon touching

[izalemon]

Yandere Red Room Host x f!Reader | SMUT/NSFW/18+⚠️

Halloween, Horror Special (PLEASE READ WARNINGS AND AUTHORS’ NOTE)

A Tortured Love Story

Warnings: non-con, smut, bondage, torture, filming, killing, gore, reader is not killed or harmed badly, the dark/deep web, double life, blood, violence, death, recorded sex, fucking in front of a corpse, pet play, ownership kink, drugging, bdsm, rape, oral (fem!receiving) Let me know if I need to add anything

Summary: After a year married to your husband, you start to notice strange noises coming from downstairs at night from your basement, but being unable to go to the basement since it’s your husband’s work space, you decided to sneak in to investigate the noises on your own, only to find something out of your worst nightmares.

Author’s note: THIS IS ONE OF THE DARKEST ONES I’VE WRITTEN YET! Like holy shit this is bad. Seriously, none of this is right and should NOT be romanticized in real life. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Fantasy is fantasy and it should stay that way. Sexual assault is a real thing and shouldn’t be romanticized outside of things that are strictly fantasy. It’s completely normal to have rape fantasies but should NEVER happen in real life. Stay safe loves, especially on the internet ❤️

You and your husband had been married for the better part of a year now. You couldn’t ask for more in life. He was your perfect match. The wedding was glamorous and the two of you barley had any issues moving in together. The only boundary he was adamant on was that the basement to you new house was for his work and you were not allowed in, unless he said so.

You found it strange but this was the only thing he was asking for so you complied. You knew he was a photographer of some kind, but he never really talked to much about his job with you so you didn’t really know the details. All you knew was that his job paid well, to the point you didn’t have to work if you didn’t want to. But you didn’t want to be useless so you found a relatively nice office job to help with the bills.

Your husband often sent flowers to your work, which, you’ll admit, was somewhat embarrassing, but it warmed your heart knowing he was thinking about you while he did whatever it was for his work.

It was bliss at first. You were so happy you barley noticed anything out of place. But…once you started to settle yourself, you began to hear strange noises at night when your husband was gone.

One night, while you slept alone while he was out for his job, you heard rustling downstairs. It sounded like two people fighting almost and ended with a sudden thud. You ran downstairs, grabbing a knife from the kitchen on your way, assuming there was an intruder, but was only met with your husband, looking rather out of breath and annoyed, standing in the hall in front of the basement door.

“Baby? What happened? Are you okay? I heard a noise, it’s sounded like someone broke in!”

“What? No, nobody’s in here. It’s just me, don’t worry yourself.” He said.

“But…there’s blood!” You pointed out the bloodstains on his hand.

“Oh yeah, that’s probably what you heard. I tripped and cut myself. It’s nothing too bad, here,” he said, gently taking the knife from your hands. “You go back to bed baby, I’ll clean myself up and join you in a bit.” He told you, planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off.

You were confused. That shuffling you heard downstairs definitely didn’t sound like someone tripped. And you knew he wasn’t being honest with you. You didn’t see any cut on him at all. The blood wasn’t his own.

You grew more suspicious about what was going on in the basement after that. Asking him if you could go in and see what he does, only to be met with a “No” and a “I’m sorry honey, my work is very important and private to me. You understand don’t you?”

You didn’t want to pester him so you just accepted his answer.

One night, you got home from your work early only to be met with, what sounded like, screams coming from the basement. It was screams of a man and you worried your husband was hurt. You frantically began knocking on the door.

“Baby?! Honey are you in there!?!” You yelled followed by a series of knocks that progressively got louder.

The screaming was suddenly cut off and you attempted to open the door only to find it was locked shut. And just as you did it opened revealing your husband in the other side.

“What was that?!” You asked, worry coating your voice.

“Why are you here! I thought you were working till 9 tonight?!” He yelled.

“Wha-I finished up early. Why are you so angry? And what were those screams?! And since when did you install a lock on the door?!” You demanded, getting more and more heated as you questioned him.

“I don’t have time for this, it…it was just a film. Sometimes…I…I like backgrounds noise while I work! And the lock is to keep my work private. You know how I am about this!”

“Yeah! But don’t you trust me enough to know I’m not going to invade on your personal space?!” You asked him.

“If you’re not going to come in, in the first place then why do you care if I put a lock on the door or not?! And you were just trying to get it now!” He argued back.

“I thought you were hurt! I heard screaming! I-I thought something happened to you!” You we’re on the verge of tears now. Him yelling mixed with your initial panic did not make for a good combination.

“Yeah, we’ll I’m fine. Thank you. Just-don’t…don’t even attempt to come down here. Even if you hear something strange. Just know I’m fine okay?!”

“But-“

And then he slammed the door in your face and locked it again.

That was the first major fight the two of you had since moving in together. You’d never really done well with conflict and this fight just shot your stress meter through the roof.

That night, when he came to bed, he held you close. After some time cooling off and having some time to think, he regretted the way he spoke to you and he whispered apologies into your ear and the two of you made love that night.

Of course him on top. He was always on top when you two were being sexual. He had a thing about control and you didn’t mind, you were just happy to be with him.

But even though he apologized you still couldn’t get the screams out of your head. You couldn’t get everything that’s been happening out of your head. So you decided you would investigate. All you wanted was to know what he did in the basement, you promised yourself you wouldn’t bring it up to him or freak out. All you needed was closure. So when he was out running errands one day, you came home from your job early to do some investigating.

The door was still locked, you attempted to find the key, looking in the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, but couldn’t find anything. You assumed he took it with him. So instead you looked up a video on lock picking, quickly being able to open up the door after that.

It was strange walking down the steps to the basement for the first time. You felt guilty but knew you had to do this or otherwise the curiosity would eat you alive.

The basement was dark and smelled funny. You eventually were able to find a light switch and the room completely lit up, nearly blinding you, almost as if they were hospital lights. The first thing that caught your eye was the translucent sheet of plastic that separated one area of the room from the other. You couldn’t make out exactly what was behind it, but you heard groaning and saw a figure shift.

Reluctantly, you approached the sheet and looked behind it. You were met with the most horrific sight you had ever seen. A man, a man you had never seen in your life, was laying on a table, his limbs bound and his stomach completely cut open. He was on the brink of death and was just laying there suffering. A camera was recording everything. A nearby monitor showed the recording and that it was being live streamed. Money, lots of money, was being donated every second.

Your breath got caught in you throat. Your husband…this is what he was doing? Surly not. Surly you were dreaming. Having a nightmare. Any minute you would wake up next to your husband who would hold you and comfort you until you fell back to sleep. Right?

You didn’t even scream. Just ran. Ran in the opposite direction, with the full intention to grab your phone and call the cops. But you were stopped. Half way up the stairs you were met with the face of your husband. But he didn’t look like your husband anymore. He wasn’t. He was a psychopath, a murderer. And he looked pissed.

“I told you not to go down here. How many damn times did I say it?” He sounded disappointed, sad even.

“What the fuck?!?” You cried out, calling him sternly by his name. “Who that fuck was that? Who are you?!?”

“I told you my work was private, and now look what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done?! Look at what you’ve done! How many people have you killed before him?! How-were…are you…I-” You we’re losing your words quickly, unable to fully grasp the situation.

He began to walk down the stairs towards you, you backing up in response, down back into hell. “Baby…you shouldn’t have gone in here. Now you can’t go back.”

“Back? What…what do you mean?”

The two of you were on level ground now, just a few feet away from the man slowly dying.

He suddenly grabbed you and pulled you against his chest. He was strong, you were unable to get out no matter how hard you fought. “This is what happens when you break my rules. And there are going to be a lot more from here on out.” He whispered in your ear, before poking your neck with something sharp. You quickly began to go limp in his arms, and finally fell unconscious, but never hitting the floor.

You prayed you weren’t next.

~~~

When you woke the first thing you noticed was how heavy you felt. It took all of your strength just to wiggle your fingers, and about half an hour before you managed to get up.

You were still in the basement, directly across the room from the stairs on a mattress, your mattress. Your ankle was in a leather strap chained to the wall. The chain wasn’t that long, it barely allowing you to go past the mattress. Your tried prying your ankle from the restraint before noticing only a key could unlock it.

Panic surged through your veins when you heard the basement door open and heard your husbands steps as he made his way down the stairs towards you. In his hands was a glass of water and some food.

He silently walked over to you and placed them in front of you. There was a long silence. You didn’t know what to say, you had never been so scared in your life.

“I’m sorry you had to find out.” He simply put. “I never intended for you to ever find out about what I do, I wanted to protect you from this side of me.” He said as he looked over to the plastic sheet hung from the wall, hiding the horrors that lay behind it.

“…what’s going on?”

“I…” he sighed. “You just HAD to be nosey didn’t you?!” He suddenly yelled, making you flinch. “Everything was fine. Perfect even! And now look what you’ve done!”

“WHAT I’VE DONE?!? I just found someone in our basement being recorded as he died!” You snapped back.

Your husband stood up abruptly and looked down at you, a look in his eye that could kill.

“Eat your food. I’ll explain everything when I cool off.” And with that he stormed out, closing and locking the door behind him.

A few hours later he came back and sat next to you on the mattress and explained everything.

He had gotten into some shady business when he was younger and his job got progressively more violent until he was being paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to torture people. He had always had a bloodlust since he was a kid, hurting and sometimes killing animals, so this was perfect for him.

The people watching his livestream were mostly others who had found their way onto the dark web and had the same urges he did, but the ones actually sending in money were his clients. People would apparently pay him hundreds to carry out a certain form of torture. Many of his regular clients were rich, business men who abused their power and were usually the ones who asked for the most vulgar forms of torture to be carried out.

You cringed as he explained all of this to you. Had you really married this man? We’re you really in love with him? How could you be anymore now that his true colors were revealed?

“And you…you were all part of the plan too…at first.”

“…what does that mean?”

“Well, I usually can’t stand people. They annoy me and honestly I’d rather see their head on a stick than converse with them. But when I met you, strangely enough, I didn’t get that feeling. So I decided to court you as a cover, to make me seem more normal and fit in. I though that that would be the best option since if I lived with someone I could actually stand being around there’d be less of a risk of me snapping and killing my spouse.” You flinched when he said that. “But…by the time of our wedding…I found myself meaning it when I said ‘I do.’ I don’t think I ever faked it when I was with you. You just…bring out something in me that’s…normal.”

You felt like you should be flattered but all you were was terrified. “So…you’re not going to kill me?”

“No. No! NO! I could never. I…baby I love you.” He expressed, cupping your face in his hands whilst you desperately tried to get away from him. “I don’t want you down here my love. Really I don’t. But I’m willing to keep you down here for the rest of our lives if it means you stay with me.”

“You’re sick.” You spat at him.

He chuckled. “Maybe. But soon you will be too.”

From that day forward you didn’t leave the basement once. He would unchain you at times so you could stretch your legs, and he had a bathroom down there for you to wash up in, but other than that, you didn’t leave the mattress.

He started doing his work in front of you now. He brought down unconscious people and would lay them out on the table—before putting on a mask to hide his identity and start streaming.

It was sick. The screams that left those peoples mouths haunted your dreams. There was so much blood. The sound of their skin being cut through and torn off repeated in your mind over and over again. He would make you watch it all. You were just out of frame of the camera, and when he would bark at you too keep looking, it naturally got the people watching curious.

He told you about how they all wanted to see his ‘special victim’ and why he was keeping them all to himself. This naturally made you fearful of what he would do next. Would he be swayed by the viewers requests and show you on camera? He said he wouldn’t kill you but he never said anything about not torturing you.

He would bring one person down a week. They’d last anywhere between a day to four. At first you would talk to them, try and come up with a plan for escape, but you were too far away to reach them and help them break free of their bonds. Eventually you stopped trying.

Sometimes they would try to talk to you, and you’d ignore them. Others would sometimes ignore you as well. But one time, one of them got pissed. They started shouting at you. Calling you horrible names for not even trying to help them or yourself.

“YOU SELFISH ENTITLED BITCH! I hope you rot in hell along with that fucker who did this to me! The only reason you’re still alive is probably because he keeps you as his personal COCK SLEEVE! Once you’re all used up you’re just gonna end up on this table like the rest of his victims!” You knew he was just scared and projecting it on to you, not to mention he was restrained at every limb so he didn’t pose any threat, but that didn’t stop you from being scared. His words hurt and you feared they may be true.

What if your husband got bored of you eventually? What if you ended up on that table too?

Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when you heard the door open and your husband marching down the stairs. When he came into your line of sight you saw just how pissed off he was.

He walked over to the man and punched him square in the nose. “You want to say that to her again.” You heard him just barely as he whispered it to the man.

You heard as he cried out in pain while blood poured out of his, now broken, nose. This just seemed to piss off your husband more. He grabbed a nearby scalpel and plunged it into the man’s hand, warranting and even louder screech of pain.

You turned your head away and covered your face with your hands while tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Even after all this time, it was still so much.

“You ever call my wife such degrading names like a bitch or a cock sleeve again…and I’ll be sure this process last far longer than a week. You’ll be here months if I hear another damn word come out of your mouth. Got it?”

Only whimpers came from the man’s lips, but it seemed to be enough for your husband for now.

Once he was finished with him he came over to you and brought you in a tight embrace. You were shaking by now. “Shhh, my pretty little thing. Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just a mere pawn in our game.”

And that’s how he saw it. A game. His game. He enjoyed doing this. He enjoyed torturing these people. Hell, despite his words, you felt he even enjoyed having you down here. Having you all to himself, him being the only form of human contact that wouldn’t die in less than a week.

And it wasn’t like he just came down here to torture people either. Oh no. Often times, when there wasn’t anyone else in the room, he would spend hours with you. He’d make you lay your head in his lap as he played with your hair and he’d rub out the knots in your back from staying in one place for so long. When you refused to eat what he gave you he’d spoon feed you.

You only tried to deny his affections once and that didn’t go well for you. The first few days you were enraged and took it out, rightfully, on him. Whenever he got close you scratch and bite at him, try to kick and hit him. Eventually he got tired of this and brought you over to his work area. You thought he was going to do to you what he did to the others. He strapped your wrists to chains coming from the ceiling so that you were hanging there like a piece of meat. He blindfolded and gagged you and left you there over night.

The next day he brought to back to your original spot and rubbed your sore shoulders and wrists. “I’m sorry baby but it had to be done. You’re going to follow my rules from here on out, and if you don’t you’ll continue to spend nights up there.” He said these things in such a sweet way despite his words being far from sweet.

From then on you stopped fighting back as much when he showed you affection, fearful that he might do something worse next time.

He wanted to hold you? You’d let it happen but you wouldn’t hold him. He kissed you? You’d accept but would not kiss him back.

This cycle lasted, for what felt like, forever. He brought a new person down, torture them for a few days until they died, get rid of the body, spend some quality time with you, and then the cycle would repeat. And he wouldn’t shy from coddling you in front of his victims. They watched as he kissed and handled you with such care, and right after having just been so brutally violent with them too. You started to think that he didn’t see them as human.

This was the ninth one now, or was it tenth? You honestly didn’t know anymore. You did what you usually did, stayed bundled up in your corner and watched as your husband went away at the poor woman.

Anytime you dare look away he’d order your eyes back up to watch as fingernails were pulled out, skin was torn right off the body, toes and fingers were being chopped off, and hair and eyelashes being pulled out in chunks. Eventually he finished, leaving the woman broken and humiliated. He walked over to you, you saw the familiar look in the woman’s eyes, she feared what he would do to you next, and you then saw her puzzled expression as he stroked your hair, whispered something in your ear, kissed you and left. It was the same confused and shocked look everyone gave.

Hours had passed, and the woman had been silent the whole time. You didn’t look at her, but you could feel her gaze on you.

“So…how long have you been here?” She suddenly asked.

You didn’t reply.

“What? Not talkative?” She let out a light chuckle. “C’mon, you could at least spare me a conversation before I die.”

You didn’t respond.

“Hey. You mute or something? C’mon speak up.”

You looked up at her now, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Has he hurt you?”

“…not as much as he’s hurt all of you.” You whispered back.

“Hmm…you must be the special one.”

“What?”

“The special one. I’m a detective honey, in situations like these there’s always one that the sicko grows attached to. Usually kept locked away like a pet or somthin’, treated like an animal.” She explained to you.

You rested your head on top of your knees that you held close to your chest. “…I’m his wife.” You said plainly.

You didn’t have to look at her to know what her face looked like.

You heard her chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

It was silent for a bit again.

“So, how long have you been down here? And how long do I have?”

You looked up at her reluctantly. “I…around two months…I’ve been down here. You…you likely have a day or two left.”

“Jesus.”

She was surprisingly calm for knowing she was going to die, painfully at that.

“Listen here sweetie, I don’t have a lot of time but you do. I imagine one day that psycho is going to snap and you’ll find yourself up here too, but you have an advantage unlike me. So listen to me very carefully.”

She told you her plan. Was this why she’d been so quiet before? Was she thinking up all of this the whole time? She pointed out things to you that you hadn’t even noticed despite being here so long.

The plan was: the next time he came in to torture her, you would cause a scene and distract him. While he was distracted she would grab the edge of the table that held his tools that was closer to her when he was working and get hold of the scalpel and pair of surgical scissors. She had noticed the scalpel and scissors were closest to her, and that after he was done with a tool he’d always put it back where it went. It would be difficult with her bound wrists but she reassured to you that she would manage.

It was amazing what she was able to pick up on even while she was being tortured.

After he left again, she would toss the tools as close to you as she could, before you slid it the rest of the way and into your grasp. Then she explained to you how to pick a lock with the the given tools incase she wouldn’t be able to explain it to you after the next round.

Then she instructed you to do the same with the lock on the basement and leave when you knew he was asleep.

“What about you?”

“I likely won’t be able to walk by tomorrow. I doubt I can already. Just worry about getting away and getting to the cops so they can get this psycho and give him the fuckin death penalty, although he deserves worse.”

And the next day…you did as she said. You distracted him, standing up and yelling at him that you’ve had enough and threatened him with whatever you could. He stormed over to you, stuffing a gag into your mouth and whispered, “Don’t fuckin speak idiot. They’ll hear you, your identity could be at risk.” As he gripped your jaw dangerously tight. But it worked. After he left she tossed the tools to you with what little strength she had left. You just barely managed to slid them over to you and begin to pick at the locks. Thankfully she explained it to you before hand since her mouth was sewed shut now.

You got out. The first time out of your restraints by your own terms. You walked over to her and nearly threw up at the sight. Her hair was shaved off, every nail was torn out, cuts, bruises, and burns scattered her body. Her eyes were just barely swollen shut and her nose…was completely gone. Just two bloody holes.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered to her. “I’ll be as fast as I can.” And you took off. There was no clock in the room so you had no idea what time it was, you knew he usually came down in the night or evening so it had to be dark out.

You picked the lock as silently as you could. Being sure to follow the instructions she had told you earlier. You were getting nervous. What if this lock was different? What if it didn’t open? What would your husband do if he came down and found you out of your-*click*

You breathed out deeply but made sure to keep it quiet, and slowly began to open up the door. Freedom. Freedom at last. You made your way as quietly and quickly to the front door as possible. You had been right, it was night, around 11pm. You could feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you began to turn the knob and open the door.

“Armed system stay—you have one minute to turn off the alarm”

Your heart got caught in your throat when the blaring sirens began to go off. You never had an alarm system before, did he get it incase you escaped? Apparently so because you heard his footsteps making their way down the stairs.

You bolted.

You ran out the door as fast as you could and made your way down the street. You were too scared to slow down and get help from a neighbor. It was late and all of them would be asleep and would give him enough time to catch up to you again.

You ran and ran and ran but it wasn’t enough. You heard his footsteps behind you, getting closer by the second.

“No, no, no, no-NO! Please someone help!!!” You cried out before feeling him jump on top of you and push you to the ground, hitting your head on the hard concrete and blacking out.

~~~

When you woke the first thing you noticed was your throbbing head. You groaned, audibly, at the feeling. You vision was blurred when you opened your eyes, and you could barely hear anything. You saw the blurry figure of your husband working on something in front of him. It was only the sounds of skin being cut and torn that you realized what he was doing.

You nearly threw up.

“Oh! Looks like our special guest is finally awake.” You heard him say.

Panic surged through your body. This was it wasn’t it? This was his breaking point. You were next in that table now.

As your senses became clearer you felt the tug on your arms and wrists. You realized you were being hung from the chains attached to the ceiling like you had been before. You tried to stand so that there wasn’t as much tension on your arms but you couldn’t seem to get your legs to move.

“Aww~” His voice was closer now. You looked up at him and saw he was wearing nothing but his boxers, a translucent, plastic apron and the usual mask he wore when he did his work. You saw behind him that three cameras were recording all of this. You, your husband, and the woman who was barely alive on the table, gurgling on her own blood.

“What’s the matter darling? Tired?” He mocked you in a sickeningly sweet voice.

You tried to respond to him. To cuss him out, damn him to hell, but you couldn’t manage to get any words out.

“Not to worry everybody! I have just the thing!” He said as he broke a small bag of strange, white power underneath your nose. You jumped at the sudden chemicals. Suddenly your vision was clearer and you were standing on your feet instead of being hung by your wrists. The first thing you noticed now that your consciousness was clearer was the mask. You saw in the monitor you were wearing a small, black, masquerade mask and were only in your bra and underwear. The second thing was the woman, who looked much worse than you had left her. She was laying in the table in front of the cameras, her feet had been cut off and her hands smashed to the point you were sure that the bones inside were dust at this point. That must have been the cutting you heard when you first came to conscious.

“Now! I’m sure you’re all wondering why she’s here.” He was referring to the camera again, to the sick people watching all of this. “If you’ve been watching me for the past couple of months you’ll know that I’ve been speaking to someone from time to time on the side. And I know you were all just dying to know who it was, so let me introduce you to my pet!” He exclaimed, motioning behind him, towards you.

‘Pet?’ You wondered.

“Now,” he clapped his hands. “My special little plaything has crossed some boundaries recently. She almost managed to escape me!” He was acting as if he were a host on a reality tv show. He was never this vocal during his work. “Now, wouldn’t you all agree that such an act would warrant a punishment?” He asked them but looked at you. You saw behind the mask that, despite his cheery voice, his eyes were glaring at you with the anger of a thousand men.

You saw as comments began pouring in from the onlookers.

========

Yess!

Kill her!

Make her bleed

pull out her nails

Skin the bitch

Pull out her teeth and make her suck you offf!!!

========

You turned your head to look away. You couldn’t bare to watch all of these comments hoping for your suffering. But your head was suddenly jolted back after he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at all the disgusting things people were saying.

He whispered to you, too low for anyone other than the two of you to hear, “Look at that baby, all the things they want me to do to you. You have no idea how lucky you truly are. If I wasn’t for me…someone else would have found you…and I’m sure they wouldn’t have been so kind. There are a lot of sick bastards out there that would like to see a pretty thing like you suffer.” He was one to talk.

He turned back to the cameras sharply. “Now now…we can’t be too cruel to her. If I hurt her too badly then I will be left without my pet anymore.” He stroked the side of your cheek with the back of his hand. “Instead of damaging her pretty body…how about her mind?”

“Please…” You called out unexpectedly. You were crying. “Please…please don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want. Just not this…” Your voice became weaker and weaker as you continued to beg him.

“Aww~ you poor little thing.” He knelt down slightly so that he was at your level. He gently took hold of both sides of your face and leaned his mask’s forehead against yours.

He sighed blissfully. “You should have thought of that before trying to leave me.” With that, he abruptly let you go and walked towards the woman. “However, before we can get started on her, let’s finish this one off first!”

You watched as he grabbed a knife and plunged it into her chest, dragging it down her body as blood spilled all over the table and floor. You cried out for him to stop, begged for him to let her live, but by the time your vision cleared from the tears spilling down your cheeks, you were staring at a corpse, and the psycho who killed her.

“Now~ bunny.” He dropped the knife on the floor and began to approach you. “Aw, you’re shaking like a leaf, are you cold?” He took your throat in his hand. “I know a way to warm you up.”

“Please.” Was all you could muster up. You knew you were helpless, you knew he could do what he wanted to you. All you could do was beg for him to stop, but that would never happen.

He kissed you harshly, you felt your teeth clash against his and how his tongue pressed into and against your teeth in an attempt to get into your mouth. You tried to get away but he was far too strong. When he finally did break the kiss you had to take a minute to catch your breath. By the time you did, you realized he had let go of your throat and was behind you now.

He looped his arms around your waist and rested his bead against yours, swaying the two of you side to side. “Oh my sweet darling…things are going to change from now on.” He told you.

“Please…please don’t kill me…” You begged him.

He took hold of the underside of your jaw and made you look at him. “I could never kill you honey, but you do need to be taught a lesson. After this, you will be featured in all of my videos. On display for all of them to see. I’ll make you watch every minute of the ‘show’ before I move on to you~”

“Move…move on to me?”

“Hmm, yes darling, but not to worry, it won’t be painful. If anything you might find yourself enjoying it.” And that’s when you felt it. You had been so occupied with the cameras, the dead woman, and his words that you hadn’t noticed his growing erection until now.

“No…wait…no-NO!!” You cried, struggling as much as you could against the restraints. Ever since he locked you down here he hadn’t touched you sexually at all, much to your relief, but now you didn’t know what would happen. You had been married to someone you didn’t even know this whole time, sleeping with someone who was hiding who they were. Who knew what he would be like now. He was always gentle and nice to you in bed before, but you doubted he would be now, now that his true nature was revealed.

And the cameras. So many people were watching, cheering for you to be tortured, cheering for you to be defiled in front of them by your own husband. “No! No please no! Not in front of the cameras! I’ll be good! I won’t try to run again! Please! Please, anything but this.”

“You should have thought of that before you tried to escape.” He told you in sudden, harsh tone.

Your bottoms were abruptly torn off and he thrusted into you without any prep. You yelped at the intrusion and pain that came from being stretched without any help from lubricants. He began to bounce you on his dick. In and out, it felt like you were being burned from the inside.

“Sorry about this love, but you understand I have to put on a show for them.” You assumed he was talking about him forcing his way inside you with no foreplay. It didn’t feel good. Even when the pain did eventually stop you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy what was happening. He didn’t even touch your clit.

You started crying, crying out and hoping, by some miracle somebody would hear you. Praying that somebody would help you. Hoping to whatever god there was that this was all a bad dream, that you would wake up next to the man that you married in the morning. Not this monster. Not this cold hearted psychopath that was defiling you in front of others who were all just as sick as him.

Finally, he finished inside of you, letting out a groan in your ear as he did so. He let you go and you were left hanging there again, deprived of any energy you had before to stand. Your tears had dried up a while ago, and left you dry heaving.

“And…that will be all for this week.” He said as he walked over to the monitors to end the stream.

The room was silent. The only thing that could be heard was the squeaking of the chains that held you up as you lightly swayed back and forth.

“It didn’t have to be this way.” He said. “I was planning on slowly making you participate. But you just had to go and run away.” He was in front of you again, taking off both of your masks now that you were alone and reaching up to undo your restraints.

You collapsed, the only thing preventing you from falling to the floor being your husband, who caught you and began carrying you over to the mattress again.

You didn’t fight. How could you? There was no hope anymore. You had tried to escape, it failed, and now he would never let you leave his sight.

He laid you down in the mattress and chained your ankle to the chain attached to the wall as he always did. You prayed he would just leave and let you sleep. Let you forget what he did to you.

But your thoughts were interrupted when you felt something wet in between your thighs. You jolted up and tried to get away, but two hands took hold of your thighs and brought you closer, making you yelp.

You looked down to find your husbands face buried between your legs, lapping and your abused heat.

“No…no please.” You sighed, having lost your voice from earlier.

“Lay back and relax baby. Your punishment’s over, let me fix it.” He said to you as he peppered kissed on your thighs and lower lips.

You felt him lick gingerly at your clit, gently rubbing your thighs and whispering sweet nothings to you as he did so. It was so different to how he was beforehand.

“I’m sorry I had to do that to you. But now you know. And now we can indulge in one another properly.” He whispered in between licks.

You felt two fingers penetrate you gently. You let it happen. How could you not? You were far too terrified of him to do anything other than just lay there and take it. But you did so much more than take it. Despite everything that’s happened he made sure you enjoyed it.

He ate you out for, what felt like, hours. Being so nice as to prep you, make sure you were ready for him. Having his fingers pump in and out of your hole while he sucked on your clit eagerly, before switching to pumping you with his tongue while he fingers worked your clit.

You unconsciously tightened you thighs around his head as he continued. Doing everything in you power to stop yourself from letting out a little “please~” as you had done in the past.

He made you cum twice around his lips. “You did so well baby, look how much you came.” He whispered in your ear, leaning overtop of you now while his fingers danced over your cunt.

He flipped you over gently, into the two of yours favorite position, and angled your ass in the air. “I don’t want this.” You whispered.

“This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need.” He said. “You need me baby. If you didn’t have me some other maniac would have gotten to you and killed you like all of those other people. I don’t want to kill you. I want to protect you. And until you can understand that you’re going to stay down here and watch every single session until you’re just like me.” He whispered to you, pinching your ass.

A single tear fell down your cheek before he pushed into you again, much more gentle this time. Instead of harsh, mindless thrusts, he moved his hips in a certain rhythm now. He made sure to focus more on how you were feeling unlike before.

You hated how good it felt. He always did know just how to make you feel the best in bed. Always showering you with praises even if all you were doing was laying back and taking what he was giving you.

It was hard to think that during all that time he was secretly torturing and killing people in your basement. You didn’t want to believe he still loved you, if anything you’d rather be on that table getting tortured like the rest of them, cause then you wouldn’t have to admit you still loved him.

Which you did.

You couldn’t deny the fact you still loved your husband, even if it was in a different way now.

Those feelings don’t just disappear. Maybe if he admitted he never loved you in the first place they would. But because he still loves you makes you unable to deny your feelings for him.

Even now. While he’s thrusting into you even though you’d rather be left alone.

Even now. While he leans his stomach onto your back and whispered sweet little nothings into your ear.

Even now. While he wiped your tears away from your cheeks to get a better view of your face.

And when he does finish, inside of you again, he flips you back onto your back to finish you off with his mouth once more.

You wailed this time. It felt good. Too good to truly be against your will. “That’s my girl.” He whispered, giving your cunt one last kiss before moving up to you again, pulling the covers over the two of you and falling into the sweet escape of sleep, knowing full well that this was just the beginning.

#cw: gore #tw noncon #yandere noncon #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #noncon touching #forcedsex #tw blo0d #abduction #kidnap tw #kidnap fantasy #tw torture #dark web #deep web #killing #tw dubcon #yandere smut #x you smut #reader smut #dark writing #tw dead body #tw death #tw violence #tw violent death #horrific #horror

[black-aurora-nora]

Warm Embrace | Yandere!Mirio x Reader

“(Y/N),” You shivered at the use of your name, clutching the blanket wrapped around you closer to your body, “You know you can’t sleep like that forever.”

Yes the hell you could, you thought from within your thin cocoon.

Ever since you’d been permanently moved in with Mirio, you’d refused to willingly touch him in any way.

To avoid touching him when you both went to bed, you feverishly wrapped yourself in your small blanket that you’d bought years ago.

And though Mirio was patient with you, it was obvious that his patience was beginning to run thin.

All he wanted to do was cuddle with you in the bed! It broke his heart whenever he watched you tightly wrap yourself in that blanket of yours.

He could tell that you weren’t getting any good sleep either. You’d tremble throughout the night, anxiety ridden and unable to fully fall asleep.

But Mirio knew that some cuddles would help you relax. He was bigger than you so he could engulf you and keep you way warmer than that old blanket could. He just needed to show you.

You felt Mirio scooch closer to your balled form.

Quickly deciding that you didn't like this level of closeness, you nearly sprung from your blanket and out the bed.

Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough and Mirio hooked a muscular arm around your waist to snatch you back onto the bed with a hearty chuckle.

"Where ya goin?" He asked smoothly, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

Now you were trapped in his hold, back to his chest.

You could feel his warm breath on the back of your head and shivered.

This new development was not to you liking.

"M-...Mirio, let me go." You demanded shakily, sitting awkwardly on your side of the bed.

Instead of doing as you'd said, he held you tighter, sliding you into his lap.

You stilled.

Now you were even closer. You didn't think it was possible to be so close to someone. You never imagined that you'd allow yourself to get this close to him.

You could smell him. He smelled like patchouli. The scent of his new body wash that'd he'd gotten for himself recently.

If he held you for too long, his scent would rub off onto you.

If he held you any closer to him, you'd probably meld into each other and become one.

You wanted anything but that.

"Slow your breathing down, baby." He whispered into your shoulder. His lips grazed over the skin of your neck, you could feel the hairs sticking up at the stimulation, "You know I'd never hurt you."

He says that but then keeps you in his house locked away from the world and your family.

That was hurting you.

Your eyes warm with tears. Had the circumstances not been what they were, you would've melted at the way Mirio was holding you right now. How he was softly whispering into your ear that you were safe and keeping you warm with his body heat.

But that was a fantasy. A fantasy that Mirio was having no trouble acting out.

Maybe you should play along too. Gaslight yourself into being happy like Mirio was.

There was no way you'd be able to escape. Mirio had too many connections, too much money, too much influence.

With a choked sob, you allowed Mirio's suffocating light to completely engulf you. You sank into his embrace despite the way your chest bounced unevenly from the anxiety and allowed him to take deep breaths into your head, taking in your scent.

As he sunk you both into the mattress offering whispers of sweet nothings, you prayed that one day his embrace would grow warmer to keep you from descending any further.

#yandere blog #yandere anime #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere mirio togata #yandere mirio x reader #tw touch starved #touching #affection #intimacy #tw implied kidnapping #tw manipulation #stockholm syndrome #tw crying #noncon touching #tw anxiety

[livingforthewhump]

Whumper let out a long sigh as he stretched back on the couch, back cracking against the cushions. Whumpee was curled in the corner, his own back aching, but the protective instinct to make himself as small as possible won over any kind of pain he felt.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Whumper from looking over at him. Nothing he did ever seemed to stop Whumper. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his long legs, and surveyed Whumpee.

Then he reached out a hand. “Come here.”

Whumpee hesitated, but the decision had already been made for him. Whenever Whumper spoke, Whumpee never had any choice but to obey, never mind his feelings on the matter. Shakily, he peeled himself up from the floor and walked over to Whumper. It felt weird to be standing over him. Whumper was so much bigger, so much taller, and Whumpee wasn’t usually on his feet a lot anyway. Still, Whumper’s gaze was as much a prison as anything else, and there was no question as to who had the power there.

Whumper looked Whumpee over, humming in thought. “You don’t have your collar on right now. But I don’t particularly want to go get it…” Whumpee’s heart jolted and he took a half step back. The collar was never a good sign. Whumper’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back in with an iron grip. “See, that’s exactly why you need it, dumb thing,” he chided.

After a moment’s pause, he reached up and slid his tie off over his head, keeping it knotted. Using the hand holding Whumpee’s wrist, he tugged Whumpee down, successfully pulling the tie over the other man’s head and securing it at his neck.

“There we go,” Whumper murmured, using the tie to tug Whumpee in closer. Whumpee's throat bobbed in a swallow. The tie was pulled too tight by Whumper’s hand, digging into his adam’s apple and all but choking him. The tension tugged him into an odd angle, leaning over Whumper on the edge of his balance, centimeters away from collapsing on top of him, leaving his shaky core to work overtime to keep him upright.

It certainly didn’t help when Whumper’s hand left his wrist and started moving up his side, ridiculously warm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Stop—” Whumpee tried, but it ended in a grunting cough when Whumper jerked the tie, sending Whumpee toppling forward.

His arms flew out to catch him, landing on the back of the couch on either side of Whumper’s head, caging him in in an odd imitation of the pose Whumper was so fond of taking with Whumpee. Still so obvious to them both that an imitation was all it was. All the power lay with Whumper—not in the circumstances Whumper had forced them into or the resources Whumper had, as Whumpee had tried to convince himself at first. It lay within who Whumper was, and who Whumpee was before him. Nothing more than clay to be molded. A game to be played.

Whumper’s arm was looped around Whumpee’s waist now, stopping him from pulling away. His arms were shaking from the effort of holding himself up like this.

“You look scared, Whumpee…are you?” Whumper murmured, eyes sparkling. His voice dipped down low. “Answer me, boy.”

Whumpee swallowed thickly. “Y-yes.”

“Yes…?” The word was a warning, as was the slight tightening of the hand around his waist.

“Yes sir.” His eyes screwed shut as he spoke. A mistake. Whumper tugged him forward further, bending his elbows more and making him tremor from the strain.

“You think you don’t deserve this. Is that right? You think you deserve to be free of me?” There wasn’t any of the anger Whumpee expected in his voice, mere curiosity and amusement.

Whumpee opened and closed his mouth, entirely unsure how to respond. Whether to be honest and give the wrong answer or to face the punishment for lying.

Whumper seemed to take his hesitation as its own answer. “That’s okay, I’m not mad.” His hand left his waist—other still firmly grabbing the tie—and slid up his chest to take hold of his chin while Whumpee arched away from the touch. “I understand where you’re at. Up until now I’ve only ever hurt you, haven’t I? And you can’t understand why, so you assumed I was being unjust. Does that sound right?”

Whumpee’s heart clambered in his chest. Nothing Whumper had just said was wrong, exactly…but it also didn’t sound right.

“Whumpee?”

“Mm—yes sir,” he whispered.

“Good.” His voice was silky and gentle and it terrified Whumpee more than anything else he’d done. “Relax, now, boy, I’m just talking to you. You can let go, I’m not going to let you fall.” His arms wrapped around Whumpee’s middle, bracing around him as he obeyed and let his arms fall limp under his weight. Whumper supported him, maneuvering him to sit on the couch beside him with his knees tucked underneath him.

Then he grabbed onto the tie again, making Whumpee to lean over his lap, shoulder pressed against Whumper’s chest.

“You fought me so much in the beginning. Do you remember? It wasn’t that you were afraid of being hurt—that’s only natural. Your defiance was against me. You didn’t want me anywhere near you, no matter what I was going to do.” As he spoke, Whumper traced his hand across Whumpee’s curved back, his shoulders, slipping into his hair. Whumpee held back his very breath for fear of attracting even more attention.

He leaned forward suddenly, lips brushing up against Whumpee’s ear as he murmured, “You were very bad to me, Whumpee.” And then he relaxed again, and eyes roving over Whumpee’s half-cowering form. “But I’m sure we’ll make up for that later. In the meantime, I’ve had to give you a form of exposure therapy, if you will.”

Whumpee shuddered at the term, sucking a breath in through his teeth when Whumper’s hand found his face, cupping his cheek and turning it up to look at him. From the way he was leaning against Whumper, they were very, very close together.

“I had to hand-feed you the worst possible scenario, little thing. You were rebellious no matter what I planned to do, so I worked with you until you were okay with whatever I wanted to do by helping you not fight against the most scary things. And just look at you now.” His thumb stroked over Whumpee’s face for emphasis, then he wrapped both arms around the poor boy’s shoulders and pulled him fully into his chest. “You still don’t understand yet, all the way. But it’s helped. Hasn’t it helped you feel better, Whumpee?”

His throat burned. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry. More than anything he just wanted to not be here anymore. “…yes sir.”

Whumper’s arms squeezed tight for a moment before relaxing, sinking Whumpee into his lap to lay down. “It has, I can tell. And we’re not done yet. We’ll keep working until you’re willing to let me do anything, so long as it’s me who wants it.”

Whumpee’s bottom lip wobbled. He hated the way Whumper looked down at him, like he was a sacrificial lamb on an altar, just waiting to be destroyed for the sake of his own sins. Whumper’s hand pet over him absently before grabbing ahold of the tie and wrenching it tight, cutting off Whumpee’s air completely.

“Don’t worry, boy. I’ll make sure to keep you needy in the meantime. After all, what’s the real joy of receiving something if you don’t want for it first?”

—

General Whump Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @utopian819 @whumpkitty @journey-the-panda @freefallingup13 @prettyboysinpain @1becky1 @temporary-whump-sideblog @chartreusephoenix @thelazywitchphotographer @mylifeisonthebookshelf @badluck990 @lockedupuniverse @luna-rein @broadwaybabe18 @pinescales-whumps @silverwhisperer1 @embersalive @the-bloody-sadist @batfacedliar-yetagain @nicolepascaline @whump-angst-fluff-repeat @susanshinning @didieatyourdog @corvid-voidbur @insane-writing-things @thebaffledtiewriter @morning-star-whump

#whump drabble #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #noncon touching #nonsexual noncon touch #scared whumpee #whumper #whumpee

[whumpitisthen]

Perfect Present

Small little cw: this one has a pretty long noncon undressing scene! I never write nsfw, but this one can definitely be interpreted as suggestive, so just a heads up!

“I never expected to be blessed with such a sweet little present.”

He is numb. The air burns as he is carried past the thick, decorated wooden door. His shivering does not ebb from the sudden warmth, only worsens at the stranger’s words.

It's hard to concentrate on anything but the daunting prominence of approaching death squeezing his heart. Though he lacks the energy to act upon his fear in any meaningful way, he understands that he is in more than a little danger. The snowstorm that had caught him out in the middle of the woods could not have come at a more inopportune time; in a place where the nearest sign of civilisation was kilometres away. The distance would have been no issue if the skies remained clear, but the freezing winds cut through his coat so efficiently that he can only pray his fingers will thaw out in one piece.

“God knows how much longer you would have survived if I hadn't found you when I did.” — They found him collapsed in the snow, too exhausted to keep stumbling on towards what he hoped was the edge of the forest. His skin blue, his boots drenched, his hair frozen stiff from his own sweat; it's a miracle he hadn't fallen unconscious. — “But there is no need to worry now. I will take good care of you.”

It smells like pine and sugar. The walls are alight in colour, reflecting in the pond of his own glassy eyes. Classical music floats from the left as they pass by. He floats along in the arms of the stranger bringing him deeper into his home. In front of the fireplace, he is laid under a marvelous silver pine standing proud and fearless of the flames licking at its leaves from afar. The rug under him is soft, heavenly so.

“There you are. That feels nice, doesn't it? Those frozen little fingers will melt in no time.” — The stranger covers him in thick blankets, providing pillows to lean on as he coos these reassurances to him. — “I will go look for replacement clothes. We can't have you stay in that drenched, muddy coat, now can we?”

He does not wonder why the stranger seems to linger beside him before turning to leave. He does not mind the hand that cards through his hair affectionately, only happy for the heat that passes onto his scalp for a moment. He doesn't see the fond expression on his face, the way those eyes rake over his body slowly, as if taking in a wonderful, serene landscape. He sees no wrong just yet, focused only on his one goal of keeping his own heart beating.

The stranger returns with clean clothing not three minutes later, setting it aside onto the couch for now. With his blanket covered back to him, he shivers incessantly, gasping. Staring into the flames becomes painful, the heat forcing his eyelids closed against his will.

Removing the soaked through boots and pants should be priority in this situation, but the stranger finds himself enamoured by the weakness and vulnerability he shows as he lies there helplessly, curling tighter and tighter into himself. It is awfully difficult to tear his eyes away from those quivering blue lips. One thought comes and passes, offering to keep his clothes on for a while longer, just to prolong his beautiful suffering. Then another, more devilish one supplies him with a darker idea upon witnessing his fragile neck peeking out from under all that fabric — perhaps undressing him would be more satisfying in the end. The urge to peel back every layer coating his divine skin slowly, meticulously revealing flesh to be explored in earnest nests inside him and refuses to leave. Truly, unwrapping a present is half the fun after all.

Perhaps there will be no need for replacement clothes either way.

Wordlessly, he kneels by the bundle of trembling cloth, pulling him closer lightly. With a hand on his shoulder, he turns him onto his back, taking hold of those icy hands grasping the cover like it is trying to escape them. His present looks up at him with wide, terrified eyes; soon that fear will be converted to a more special, deeper kind of fear. He will not be nearly as afraid of the cold as he will be of the stranger.

Those eyes become a little wider when pulls away the blanket, even wider when he straddles him and starts unbuttoning his coat with an eager expression. It takes a couple buttons for his present to understand that this is not right, wriggling and whimpering quietly, confused. He becomes nervous when the buttons run out and his coat is pulled away to reveal nothing but a flimsy dress shirt underneath. It isn't even fully buttoned up, leaving a prominent collarbone exposed under the dishevelled, wrinkled material.

The stranger tuts at him disapprovingly. — “So careless...”

The pause is a little too long for comfort, passed by as the man takes in his form before he returns to unwrapping his gift, a warm knuckle caressing the naked skin as his hands move to the next button. Even through the exhaustion, confusion, terror and pain, the cold mess of limbs understands how dangerous it is to be undressed in such a way in a stranger's home.

“S-S-Stop, p-, stop, no…” — Those blue fingertips come into view as they try to push numbly at the stranger's hands, squirming uncomfortably. He cannot feel if their hands meet at all, but he can hear the slaps as he jerks his hands into the other’s arms and chest frantically, kicking out and twisting.

The man looks at him a while, not bothered in the least. He just smiles at his desperate, yet pathetic efforts at fighting him, fighting back just as weakly by repositioning his head and wrists faster than he could comprehend with his dizzy mind, but letting up right after to watch those limbs fly around like useless flesh worms. Once the struggle becomes more annoying than entertaining however, he simply takes those wild arms and pins them under his knees, securing them in place so he can continue unboxing in peace.

At the miserable grunt that he makes once he realises how trapped he really is, the stranger only hushes him, — “be good. I am only trying to help you, can't you see? You are soaked.”

He had to use so much energy just to force his useless, heavy limbs to do something, but it only amused the man. He feels the shirt open button by button, powerless to do absolutely anything about it. The violent shivering only worsens once his naked skin touches the air, goosebumps rising at the feeling. It's warm, but cold at the same time, burning all the same.

The stranger’s fingers running down his torso bring tears of frustration and humiliation to his eyes, his face contorting into the very definition of misery. His struggles renew when that hand reaches under the shirt, circling around to feel his now swiftly beating heart, while the other cups the side of his stomach bouncing up and down with each of his panicked gasps for air. He cannot bear it any longer once the hand lifts from his chest up all the way under his chin, taking hold of his neck.

“Don’t, d-d-d-don’t, pl-ease, please, I-I-I-I, I c-can’t, I can't —”

“You don't need to. I will take care of you.”

That only makes him sob in earnest. A broken no is all that makes it out before he devolves into fearful whimpers and cries, thoroughly overwhelmed from going through multiple life-threatening crises at the same time. The grip tightens ever so slowly, experiencing the way his neck twitches and pulses, the frigid, pale blue skin stretching over an artery pumping dangerously cool blood hysterically under cruel fingertips caressing it. It's hard to tell through the tears covering his vision in confusing sparkles, but he can definitely feel the intense attention of the man glaring down at him in morbid fascination.

His hand never grows tight enough to strangle him, but it gets very close. Laboured, wheezing breaths already coming out forced now turn even smaller, just a little harsher, thinner, just enough to start hurting from the warm pressure. Once it reaches that point however, it returns to simply lying on top of his neck, an almost pleasant coat over him to slowly warm him through.

The stranger pauses for a moment, considering his thoughts. He makes a decision unbeknownst to his present, and moves to continue removing his clothes instead. His hand slips from feeling up his neck towards his shoulder, helping him out of the coat and the shirt at the same time, revealing even more damp, icy flesh underneath. Skin contact between the two of them brings goosebumps in its wake, as if the lost man's very body itself was flaring up to stretch into the warmth of the other. Scary, dangerous, uncomfortable and wrong, yet so pleasant, necessary, and enchanting at the same time. He needs that warmth to stay alive, but that hand will never let him go once it truly latches onto him.

The fire crackles too loud to hear his thoughts over. Focusing on anything but what is being done to him is a herculean task, only overpowered by the endless ice encircling his lungs. The more naked he feels, the less he fights, with his shoulders now bare and free, and his arms slender and fragile and useless all the same. His boots are pulled off him with little issue, soaked through socks following behind. It feels equally awful, yet relieving to be rid of the heavy, water clogged clothes. A towel is given to him then, the man noticing his shamefully weak arms hugging himself desperately, which then hold onto the towel even more fiercely, laying it over as much of his body as he can. It provides minimal warmth and privacy, but is more than welcome.

His pants are being unbuttoned then, and he kicks out in horror instinctively. He doesn't like this, he doesn't like this! — “P-P-Please, I can, I c-can —”

“No,” — he is swiftly cut off by the stranger, a tone not unkind.

He curses his heavy, frozen tongue for stuttering and failing so miserably, just like the rest of his body. He curses the weather that caught up to him so suddenly, that caused the hypothermia and weakness, the insistent winds that thirsted him into submission, sucking all power out of him. He curses the man most of all, for finding him, for taking him without so much as a question, for bringing him to a warm log cabin, to a lovely little home dressed in glimmer and blown through by an aroma hard to resist, for laying him in front of the fireplace, telling him all the while that he will help, that he is saved, and that he is such a lucky man to be found by him. He curses the stranger for lying to him, and taking advantage of him, and pulling unbothered on his trousers until he is fully naked, in a stranger's home, in the middle of a quiet, snowy nowhere, frozen to near death and sobbing in petrifying fear, forced to endure powerlessness and lay under the stranger as he does as he pleases with him.

The towel quickly shoves downward as his only shield against peering, curious eyes. He begs, though he can barely manage to utter out a single word understandable through his unfeeling lips. He keeps begging, he keeps resisting, he keeps squirming and whining and crying and clawing, but he is simply not a threat. It would not take more than a gentle pair of large, soft hands to peel away his own from his body, bringing the towel with. The stranger pauses again, letting his gaze and touch wander his body, touching just over his navel with such gentleness and hunger that he can barely hold himself from screaming as loud as he can.

Luckily, he stops soon enough, mercifully not dipping any lower to feel him up any more. The unnerving silence — or lack of conversation, to be precise, as the stranger's present is more than vocal about how much he hates this — is finally broken, the man leaning over him rousing himself free from this terrifying, lustful, obsessive mood he put himself into with a couple blinks. His eyes return to focusing on him as a person; as opposed to drinking in his body as a gift. — “There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?”

He takes the dry, heavenly soft towel and bundles him in it with care, lifting and manhandling him into a sitting position looking towards the fire. Another towel comes soon after, massaging his scalp as the stranger begins rubbing his hair dry. It is uncomfortable, but at the moment, he is only glad he is no longer being straddled on the ground, now keeping his knees high up under his chin and his body well hidden under the layers of cover.

The change in mood is not lost on the stranger. — “This feels good, doesn't it? Much better, without all that fighting. You are safe with me.”

“N-N-N-No, I-I’m, I-I-I’m not, I'm not…”

“Shhhh…” — the man shushes him again, sitting down behind him to hug him close, — “it's hard to speak, I know. The shivering will die down soon enough. No need to force it. I know.”

In a sudden all-consuming anger that flares up in his chest at the condescending tone, he jerks backwards to headbutt the stranger holding him hostage in his embrace, in his house, getting way, way too comfortable with his helplessness. It's infuriating; not only his pathetic state of vulnerability making it impossible to even do anything on his own, but that the stranger thinks he can just do anything he wants, that he can just take him and touch him and mock him and talk over him like this, while knowing fully well that the only reason he is still unharmed is because his ‘gift’, as he so creepily put it, is still thawing out from a snowstorm. If they were on equal footing, he would already be unconscious from how hard he'd have pummelled him as soon as he started taking his clothes off.

Unfortunately, even through the fury that takes hold of him, his movements are sluggish at best, and the man easily dodges him both times he tries to fight back this way. Even worse, he laughs, and only holds him closer, squeezing the breath out of him with one arm, and holding his head snapped back over his shoulder with the other, effectively pinning him arched over himself. — “Simmer down, sweetness. You'll hurt yourself.”

He only struggles for a small few seconds, then swiftly runs out of energy. His anger remains, slowly melting like a candle, eating itself alive. — “Wh-Why won't, w-won’t you let me go? Please, just, j-j-just sto-pp t-touching me!”

The list of the stranger's creepy, condescending mannerisms just keeps growing ever longer. This time, he pets his hair affectionately, humming a sympathetic, yet disapproving sound. — “I am not letting you go because you need help. You are shivering like a leaf, poor thing. You can barely move. Barely talk. You cannot take care of yourself.”

“I can, I c-can!”

“No, you can not.” — The facade of gentle kindness slips just a tad, his voice, while still pleasant, cuts with an edge that wasn't there before. There is a finality to his words, almost parental; however, the danger feels much more intimidating than just a usual scolding. The rumble of the stranger's tone right next to his ear doesn't help either. — “Be patient. I will show you how well I can take care of you, you'll see. I am very generous. It's the least I can do, after all.”

It takes an indescribable amount of will to force himself to even understand the extent of his situation, much less fight and argue with a mad man, so he just weeps in silence, going limp once again. He is slowly, excruciatingly warming by the fire, at least. One of his worries will be solved, and he is still alive. That is definitely a good thing. Now if only he wasn't basically kidnapped for that to have happened.

He holds out hope for when he feels better. Once he can move and speak like normal again, and stand his ground — or even just stand, period — he will fight him off, or look for an exit.

For now, he is exhausted. The warmth surroundings him, however unpleasant, relaxes him further into the arms of his captor. His still damp hair is becoming room temperature. His quivering is fading, bit by bit. He still twitches, his lungs still feel less than adequate, and he is just so incredibly tired. The stranger stands up at some point, leaving him for a while. Says he will return with some warm soup — must have gotten bored of waiting in silence. Without the support of the other man, he leans to the side and ends up curled up on the floor, dozing off.

By the time the man returns, steaming hot soup in his hands, he finds his gift passed out, cocooned up in the middle of his living room, right under the christmas tree. It's a delightful sight, even more so once he notices his rough wheezes as he sleeps, a perfect background noise in tandem with the quiet Händel playing in the hallway. It's so peaceful — the snow has covered everything outside with a thick coat, the sun has gone down, the fireplace has warmed up the whole cabin and the food is ready. It is the most perfect Christmas evening, made flawless by having such a pretty little present sleeping soundly under the tree. Vulnerable, gorgeous, far from home and with the sweetest little tears still glistening on his cheeks rose red from the cold.

Nothing could ruin this, least of all an unruly present.

The stranger sits down on his couch, watching intently the delicious sight, sipping on the delicious vegetable soup. He looks so defenceless like that. Naked, bundled up, unconscious. So many awful ideas spawn in the stranger's mind as he fantasises about all the things they will do together. All the fun they will have.

He could keep him in the shed, but not just yet, it's much too cold. He can keep him in his house, but then he will not have his own room. Then again, his gift doesn't need his own room. He could stay in the stranger's bedroom, locked up nice and safe. They could sleep in the same bed… maybe he could even chain him to the bedpost. Have a sweet thing like him always be right where he belongs. He does not need to leave, all he needs to do is let himself be taken care of. Yes, that sounds just delightful.

He will have to make sure to keep him in check. He can already tell this boy will be trouble if left to his own devices. He will need to be tamed. Carefully. He will need to be taught his place. He will need to be punished harshly for every wrong thought that crosses his mind. That's how he will be good enough to keep. Good enough to spoil with all the attention and care he could ever imagine. A good boy, who will keep him company out here, all on his own. The stranger will make him perfect.

No one will hear him scream. He can yell and fight all he wants. He cannot leave here. Not now that he was given to the stranger like this. The best Christmas present he could have ever asked for.

Hopefully by the time next year's Christmas comes around, he will have learned to be thankful for all his owner had done for him on this day, and will have had plenty of reminders carved into his skin, marking him as property, that he will be able to admire from the sofa like he does today. He will watch him wheeze in his sleep, and curl up bare in front of the crackling fire, and he will go up to him then and remind him of the day he was given to him as the most perfect little present.

<3

Masterlist I Ko-fi

#whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #my writing #whump writing #fear #sadistic whumper #hypothermia #captivity #noncon touching #noncon stripping #nsft #suggestive #crying #this came out a bit late but eho cares its still Christmas in my heart #it is not massive tho! i have defeated my curse! i can write shorter things!

[missbunnybunny]

❣💌[ I'm stravin' , Darlin' ]💌❣

Tw: non-con, dubcon, yandere, stalking, Somnophilia, Drugging, breeding, cockwarming.

A/n: this is my first detailed smut. It was going well at the start until I took a wrong turn and fell off a cliff. Possessive music got influence. I don't know what I wrote, am going to hell, his more delusional; than me. smh. ENJOY!

Note: this is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader. Based on the songs Eat Your Young by Hozier and An Unhealthy Obsession by Blake Robinson, helped write this song. pet names such as Darlin, Love, and good girl. If I forgot something plz tell me.

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗ ▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊. ╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝ Part 2 ↥

You were exhausted. Who could blame you for being tired? You enjoyed your job as the owner of a small coffee shop, but you were drained and your staff adored you. When they had an emergency, you were incredibly nice to them and understanding. You didn't inquire, you just told them not to worry because you trusted them and they trusted you.

You didn't hesitate to assist your staff when an aggressive customer screamed and yelled at them. You listened to all sides of the story and kept your eyes on the cameras. When they realized they didn't have a foothold, you politely requested them to go. But if they weren't kind enough to go, you merely called the cops. You would never let them get away with it; you had patience, but not that much.

So, after the day was done, you secured your doors and walked upstairs to your house. You double-checked that all the doors and windows were secured and that the security system was turned on and operational. Taking a soothing bubble bath, dressing, and preparing for some much-needed rest. Closing your eyes and basking in the warm embrace of sleep. Your eyes slowly opened, and you attempted to move your fingers, but they wouldn't budge. You had been under a lot of stress recently due to overwork, and sleep paralysis was now typical for you.

You could hear your door opening and the floors squeaking. The ebony form of a guy appeared. He was tall, and the broadness of his shoulders suggested that he worked out. As you felt the bed drop at your feet, he sat at the end of it. His hand began to go up and down your leg gently. Coming to a halt at your thigh. He hummed to himself while pinching your inner thigh.

You uttered a grunt. He came to a halt and gazed up at you. As he peered down at your face, his face slowly entered the frame. "Oh, how pretty," he said, lovingly cupping your face. "I don't think I could hold myself back." His breath lightly fanning your face, he murmured. He kissed you, and you let out a frightened moan and screwed your eyes shut. He took advantage of the situation by inserting his tongue inside your mouth. While squeezing your inner thigh, he hummed to himself. His hand creeps up and beneath your shirt from your thigh. He pulled your nipple and squeezed your breast. He linked his mouth to yours with a thin string of saliva. He licked his lower lip. "You taste amazing," he replied with a smile.

He kissed your lips once more, and you felt him get out of bed. You sprang awake and took a glance around. Your clothing was in good condition and not flung around. You raced to your restroom and looked in the mirror; there were no handprints anywhere on you. You rushed to your front door, terrified, and examined your alarm system; nothing was amiss. You were befuddled, and your thinking was jumbled. You summarized it up to well: an odd wet dream, stress, and being punted up may all lead to unusual nightmares, especially when combined with sleep paralysis.

You sipped your favorite comfort drink, rubbed your temples, and took a few deep breaths. Exhale a sigh of relief as you feel your tension wash away. You put on your business attire and prepare to open your shop. The business opens at 8 a.m., so you were there by 6:30, and by 7 a.m., staff began to arrive. Everyone was having a fantastic time in the shop, which was filled with laughter and music. When the clock struck eight, you laughed, "It's eight, you know what to do. Hit it!" Everyone queued up got into place, and you opened the store. Customers arrived quickly after that.

When a well-dressed man entered and approached the counter, your staff was busy. As you finished serving one of your usual clients, you noticed him and called, "I'll be with you in a minute." "Thank you, hun." The kind old lady stated. You smiled at her and walked over to the counter to assist the man. "I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting too long?" you said as you set up the ordering machine. "No, not at all." He informed you in hushed tones, he was attractive, you had to admit it. His voice seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't place it. But you shrugged it off and smiled as you asked him what he needed.

"A coffee with a cake," he answered politely. "Ah, what cake would you like sir, we have many options." you beam up at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Oh, what would you recommend, my dear?" he asks, quietly tapping the counter. "Would red velvet cake be acceptable?" "It's one of my favorites," you inquired. He nodded, and you concluded his order with a small 'mm'. " Would that be all, sir?" "If so, this is your total," you say, pointing to the sum on the side of the register. " Yes." He responded and paid.

As soon as the order appears on the screen, one of your staff takes it while you assist with the other tasks and clients. Since the front of the store was fully filled, the man was directed to the back. He could see the counter and you from where he was seated. The manager patted you on the shoulder and smiled at you as they spoke to you. You chuckle and smile as you remove your apron. "I'm taking a break, everyone," you say. 'Okay, ma'am,' they respond. You step away from the counter and take a seat on one of the unoccupied stools close to his table. While on the phone with someone, you smile and giggle.

He can't stop staring at you. It was fortunate that he instructed his assistant to investigate you. He even postponed a lunch date with the daughter of a well-known corporation. He didn't mind because he could tell she was attempting to catch his attention. He couldn't care less about how much her clothing cost or how it 'accidentally' revealed her chest. He'd rather be here, staring at your face and grin. It was a coincidence that he first spotted you; one of his clients requested to meet at this cafe since they genuinely enjoyed your coffee and sweets. He couldn't get your face out of his mind and thoughts after that.

Your phone call had finished, and you turned to meet his gaze. You froze as you studied his face. He saw the fact and grinned. You realized he hadn't touched his cake and sighed in despair. "Do you not like the cake, Sir?" You questioned him quietly, your gaze fixed on the plate. "Oh, no, it's not like that. "I was saving the cake for last because it was so delicious." He let you know quietly. "Oh, okay," you said as you stood up and turned around. "Would you like to join me?" he offered, and you graciously accepted his invitation.

You spoke till your break ended. He became a regular client after that and frequently asked about your favorite treats to try. It had been months since then, yet you still felt tired whenever you saw him. He was the final customer in the shop on one such occasion. You sent your employees early, not wanting to keep them waiting so they didn't miss their bus or train. "It's closing time, Mister Blackwell; you should go home," you said. "I told you to call me James, Darling." He told you firmly. " However, I agree. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you." While drinking his drink, he informed you.

"Would you mind joining me before I leave?" He remarked this while pointing to the seat next to him. you exclaimed, "You are extremely persistent." You shook your head and set your favorite drink on the table. turning around and laying a little slice of cake next to your drink. You had no idea what he had placed into your drink by the time you sat next to him. He grinned as you took a sip of your drink, seeing your expression shift.

He watched as your eyes gradually closed and you collapsed on the table, spilling your cup on the floor. "What…did you do?" You questioned him carefully, feeling yourself nodding off. "Don't worry, my love, I'll take care of you." As you eventually slid away, you heard him declare. You wake up with him twirling his tongue at your clit, then cat licking your entrance, going back and up to your clit, before his tongue went into your pussy, tasting every inch of it. You eventually let out a whimper as the knot in your gut finally split and you filled his mouth with your cum. "You're awake, I hope you don't mind," he whipped his mouth with his palm. "I was dying to taste you." He stated. His gaze moved up and down your body, forming an image of you in his mind. You attempted to speak, but all you got was a broken wail. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you were entirely bare to him. Your eyes began to water, and silent tears streamed down your cheeks. " Why are you crying, Darlin?" He stated this as he licked your tears away before giving you a ravenous kiss, His tongue quickly claiming your mouth.

He released your lips as he stated, "It will take a while until you can move again, but don't worry, I'll make you feel good." He gently graded your hand before bringing it to the bulge on his pants. "This is what you did to me." He talked as he stroked your palm up and down his bulge, letting out a groan as he began to accelerate. He stared down at you, hungry, and proceeded to remove his outfit. He was now entirely exposed for you to see. " Oh, very lovely. I'm curious how you'll look after I slit you in half on my dick." He murmured this as he sank his thick fingers into your pussy, causing your back to arch. When he noticed your body jerked up and your jaw fell open, he smiled even more.

He discovered your sweet spot! He curled his fingers in the same place over and over. You felt that familiar tight knot in your gut emerges, prompting you to tighten your walls around his fingers. "That's it, cum on my fingers like the good girl you are," he said. Your walls flutter subconsciously at his words, "Oh, you like being called a good girl?" he questioned, advancing faster. Your moans and whimpers sounded like music to his ears. He was itching to sink his dick into you. You came undone under him with one more stroke, cumming on his fingers and hand. He took his hand away and brought it up to his mouth, licking your juices. "You taste divine." He exhaled.

He positioned himself at your entrance, tapping his dick on your assaulted lips. He graded your legs and pushed them on your chest in a typical mating press position, and you could plainly see his pink tip and how enormous he was. Once he got you the way he wanted you, you felt the swelling tip of his cock press against your tight entrance and buckle his hip. He bottoms out in one push, his pelvis colliding with your entrance. He took your breath away since he was so large. And, as he claimed, he was splitting you in half with his dick. "Don't pass out on me, Darlin," he remarked, softly patting your cheek with his palm." The fun is just getting started," he remarked as he kissed you on the lips. Allowing you to get used to his size before proceeding. You were so tight! And you are his and his alone.

His cock began to slide in and out of your tight pussy, as if you were nothing more than a fleshlight at his disposal. "Y/n I'm going to make you only mine," your desperate cries mixed with groans as you sought to stop him. The sound of skin smacking against skin got louder as he thrust harder and harder. Your muscles were absolutely spasming, and your eyes could hardly fixate or focus on his sweat-splattered face above you.

So this was how it felt to be with a man like him, putting you precisely where you should have always been. BELOW HIM, you were groaning, saliva flowing from the corners of your lips, and your eyes rolled up every time his cock brushed your cervix and his pelvic bone stroked against your swollen clit. Your eyes met his and he kissed you passionately; the longer the two of you kissed, the more his hips appeared to press into yours. The headboard of the bed was crashing fiercely into the wall, adding yet another obscene sound to the symphony.

You could feel his dick pounding against your walls; it was clear he was nearing his climax, which was going to totally fill you up to the point of leaking, and then fuck a baby into your womb. As he furiously pounded into you, his hands came to your waist and had a tight grasp on you. You felt James base expand and get even bigger only seconds before his hot sperm was spurting into your womb and the veins surrounding his dick were pulsating against your walls, making you gasp for the nth time. The sensation of being totally filled was so intense that you almost ended up cumming again.

He lay down next to you, panting and allowing you to collect your breath. As your body was extremely sore, he began spooning you from behind his cock, still inside you. "Sleep, Love, you must be tired," he kissed your neck. I'll prepare something for you in the morning." You were exhausted, and your half-lined eyelids eventually closed as you slept off. James grabbed up his phone and called over your sleeping figure. The phone rang till someone answered, "Ray?" "Did you do what I asked?" he inquired calmly. "Yes, I made sure to delete the footage of you breaking into the home months ago, as well as the alarm system," Ray stated gently. "Perfect" James smiled, hanging up the call as he fell asleep next to you.

After so long of only admiring you from afar and secretly stroking you as you slept, he was overjoyed to finally hold you in his arms. Don't worry, you can have a better life because He will take excellent care of you. "It'll take some getting used to, but we'll make it work." were his final thoughts as he fell asleep affectionately sound asleep with you in his arms.

Am gonna dig a hole and hide. bye....👩🏽‍🦯

Update there’s a new hole to hide now 🕳️ 👩🏽‍🦯

#yandere #yandere x reader #dark content #cw noncon #tw noncon #x reader #yandere oc #Yandere x reader lemon #yandere noncon #yandere smut #noncon touching #female reader #male yandere #💌yan #like or reblog #cw stalking #cw somnophilia #tw somno #cw drugs #tw drugging #pretty yandere #original oc #oc character #tw.breeding

[feverdreamsanddelusions]

for the mind/body control ask game

scenario 4 + scenario 9 or 10 + dialogue 2

4. whumpee is fully aware of what's happening and what they're being forced to do, but their body won't respond to them at all + 9. whumpee is forced to be affectionate and sweet + 2. "my little puppet/doll/pet."

mind/body control ask game

[tw noncon touching, noncon kissing, body control, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, possessive whumper]

“My little doll,” Whumper crooned, motioning Whumpee even closer; Whumpee leaned in, of course, entirely against his will.

They were way too close to him. He was way too close to them, and they were way too good at pretending this was all real, and that he wanted to be all up in their personal space. He strained against the steel-grip Whumper had on his body, trying to pull away, or at least tell them to knock it off, to scream, to cry, to plead… But all he could do was smile adoringly, and enthusiastically reciprocate when his captor leaned forward to press their lips against his.

He wanted to throw up.

“Always so sweet for me,” they murmured, and Whumpee felt his body shift, made to throw one leg over Whumper’s hips and settle in their lap. “Only for me.”

Stop, get away from me, stop this, I fucking hate you, you’re disgusting, stop touching me—

Whumpee wished the control Whumper had on him would numb his body too, but he was all too aware of the hands sliding across his skin and down his sides. They settled on the back of his thighs, pulling him yet closer, and he could feel himself break out in goosebumps. 

“I’ll never share you with anyone, pet.” Whumper let him pull back a little, only to keep him rigidly still as they started trailing sloppy kisses down his neck. “I’d never betray that sweetness like that.”

#ask res #whumpsday #whump #whump drabble #noncon touching #noncon kissing #body control #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #possessive whumper #res writes

[cold1dead1eyes]

11. intimate whumper

whumpee wakes up to a heavy weight against their back. the blankets covering them are stifling, the room warm with sleep. whumper’s palm rests like an iron weight against their chest. badum badum badum. the fevered beat of whumpee’s heart slams against their ribcage.

“mmm… whumpee…” whumper mutters against the back of their neck and goosebumps break out across their skin. warm, wet breaths wash over them. whumpee stays sweaty and tense in whumper’s grip as they shuffle around in the bed, spooning whumpee to their chest.

“are you scared, sweetheart?” whumper’s voice is rough with sleep. their hand swipes over whumpee’s chest, dipping down to their stomach and sliding under their shirt. it’s innocuous; just a gentle stroking of their skin, but whumpee unconsciously cringes back from the touch. it only pushes them further into whumper’s arms.

“don’t worry, i’m going to take good care of you.” whumpee gasps when whumper’s other hand slips under their body to hug them closer. warm skin sticks to warm skin under the heat of the blankets. it would be comforting, if whumpee didn’t have proof on their body of just how dangerous whumper could be.

“i’ll always be there to stitch you back up.” whumper’s finger traces up to a half-healed, stitched scar under their ribs. whumpee freezes up. they stay exceptionally still as whumper plays with the frayed ends of the stitches, a dull pain emanating from their wound.

stroke, stroke, stroke. whumpee holds their breath. the intimacy of it worms under their skin and prickles at their bones. this is all wrong. all wrong. just a few hours ago, whumper was towering over whumpee, knife in hand, taking them apart—

“shh, you’re fine. you’re fine. go back to bed, baby.” whumper’s fingers keep drifting over the stitches. whumpee is too scared to put up a fight, and too tired to care. they stay still and wait for the gentle stroking on their abdomen to go still.

whumper sleeps like the dead. whumpee doesn’t so much as close their eyes, hyperaware of the monster pressed up against their skin.

prompt from @whumpay

#intimate whumper #whump #whump drabble #whump writing #whump prompt #noncon touching #whumpee #carewhumper #bed sharing #whumpay2023 #whumpay

[montammil]

A soft noise escapes from Whumpee as they open their eyes, looking back to see Whumper leaning over them and grinning. 

“Good morning,” they speak, voice soft as silk as they trail a hand along their split lip. “And might I say, you look beautiful while you sleep.” 

Whumpee is so tired that they forget to be afraid for a moment, letting their eyes go half lidded as they feel the heat of Whumper’s breath on their face.

Their hand snakes up to caress Whumpee’s cheek, finger tips dancing over their jaw before moving down their throat. “You know what, Whumpee? I think I love you.”

The sleep fades in Whumpee’s eyes. “What?” 

Whumper chuckles. “Maybe that’s the wrong word. I love everything about you, rather. This hair, this skin, these eyes...” They pause. “However I don’t care much for your personality.”

Whumpee tries jerking their head away, but it’s impossible, as Whumper grips them by their jaw.

“Which is why I decided I’m going to train you into exactly how I want you to be.”

#whump #whump prompt #whump idea #whump ideas #whump scenario #whumper x whumpee #whumpee x whumper #whumper #whumpee #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #creepy/intimate whumper #noncon touching #tw noncon touching

[izalemon]

Yandere m!Jock x f!Reader | SMUT/NSFW/⚠️18+

Lucky Charm

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, possessiveness, obsessiveness, abusive relationship(no hitting), slight gore(not on reader), alcohol, oral sex, degradation, praise, mirror sex, fingering, forced relationship, manipulation, blackmail, slight homophobia(f-slur is used once), public sex,

Summary: from the outside all you seem to be is the quarterback’s sweet, supportive girlfriend, but anyone who took a closer look could see otherwise. unfortunately for you, anybody who notices would rather keep it to themselves than help you in favor of saving their own skin, just what you get for getting the attention of the most influential player on the team.

🔞NO MINOR ZONE🔞

Author’s note: this work was partially inspired by this one by yandermis, and by one other that I, unfortunately, cannot find. Also, AAAHHH! DON’T DO THIS! This is one of the most realistic non-cons I’ve done yet! If you find yourself in a situation even REMOTELY similar to this one please seek help! There are people out there who can help you! Remember loves❤️, the only good sex is consensual sex. There is a difference between fantasy and reality, it is okay to fantasize about non-con but actually experiencing it is straight up RAPE. Non-con is just a nicer way to say rape on Tumblr. Stay save loves❤️ ALSO NO PICTURES ABOVE BELONG TO ME!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowed roared as your boyfriend’s team scored another point. The players cheered with them, celebrating.

Under any normal circumstances you would be cheering along with them. But no, all you could do was watch in anticipation, anxiety coursing through your veins.

Despite the small victory, the scores were still close, making you nervous.

Usually you wouldn’t care who won. You’ve never been a big sports fan in the first place, but when you met your boyfriend everything changed.

When the two of you had first met he teased you often, taking things from you and holding them high above your head to the point that even if you were standing on your toes you couldn’t reach it. He’d tell you that the only way he would return it is if you kissed him on the cheek. Seeing no other option and already being late to where you had to go, you did it, and then scurried off.

This was just one of the many inappropriate things he did.

When walking by you in the halls with his friend group he would grab your ass, making you jump. He would drape his arm around you for no other reason than, “wanting to be close to his girl” as he called it.

The two of you weren’t even dating by this time, not to mention you had made it blatantly obvious that you were not interested. Sure he was attractive, hot even, but you personally just did not vibe with who he was.

The day he decided that the two of you were dating was the day when he caught you off guard and alone. He pushed you up against the wall and kissed you deeply. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but the man was BUILT and refused to let you go.

Afterwards, when you attempted to tell someone about this, he stopped you before you could even get a word out. He pulled you to the side in an undisclosed area and gave you one of the most terrifying looks you’ve ever seen in a man.

“You’re mine. Mine, y’hear? You try and leave me and there will be consequences.” He told you.

When you challenged him and asked what kind of consequences there would be, he showed you what he had on you.

How did he even find out about that? Nobody knew about that, how could he have found out?!

He threatened to tell everyone if you tried to leave him, and with that little bit of blackmail…you were his.

Ever since then he referred to you as his “lucky charm.”

The first time he called you this, it was just a few minutes before his first game of the season. He lead you back to the empty sports locker rooms where he laid you down on one of the benches and went down on you.

It was the first time anyone had given you oral like that. He sucked gently on your clit and used his fingers to play with your opening. You couldn’t help the cries that left your lips as he mercilessly toyed with you.

He worked you through your orgasm swiftly and left you there a blushing, sweaty mess.

Before he left, he told you to “Pray I win princess because of I don’t, I won’t be as forgiving.”

And that was the start of your little routine as his lucky charm. He did this before every game as if it would grant him good fortune. You learned quickly that he expected you to meet him in the lockers ten minutes before his game where he would eat you out as a ‘warmup’ for what was to come later.

After his games he would always fuck you. The first time he did, you were so scared. You were a mess and you couldn’t stop yourself from shaking even when he was barley touching you. Your heart was pounding in your ears and he noticed this. Thankfully he had won that first game and was more gentle than he would have been if he hadn’t.

In fact, he was very gentle, took you back to his place and everything. He wouldn’t admit it but he wanted you to feel good too, he took things slowly for your first time. Whispering praises in your ear as he slowly thrusted his hips against yours

“You’re doing so well. Just a little longer baby. Just keep whining for me. Ah~ you make me feel so good. You’re taking me so well princess. Ugh…yes, just like that. Oh…oh don’t move, I…I’m…Ah~” and as much as you begged him through teary eyes not to, he finished deep inside of you.

Ever since then, after every game he would do the same. You prayed he would win them each time, because if he did, you learned he was much more gentle than if he didn’t. If he won he was very gentle, granted still rough, but it was definitely better than if he lost a game.

And god help you if he lost.

He would be pissed. He was a very competitive man and would march over to you and not let you leave his side for the rest of the night. Of course he was always like that, but his grip around your waist or on your wrists was far harsher than usual.

The thing is, if he won a game he would wait till the two of you got back to his place before he had his way with you. He’d drive you there and use one of his hands to play and stimulate you so that you’d be ready as soon as the two of you got back.

But when he lost the two of you wouldn’t even be out of the parking lot before he was pounding into you from behind. He wouldn’t even prepare you, he’s just slam you down, face first into the back seat of his car, pull down your pants or lift your skirt and just go to town.

In those moments, you were thankful for his ‘warmups’ he insisted on carrying out before every game.

He was far crueler too, instead of his usual praises he would degrade you as if you were a common whore.

“Yeah, you like that slut?! Fuck! You’re so fucking tight! I bet you secretly like this don’t you?! Ugh-fucking whore. Pretending like you don’t want this just so I’ll fuck you harder. Ugh! Are you really that much of a slut for my dick?! Heh…f…fucking pathetic-Ah! Shit!” He would talk nonstop throughout the round up until the moment he came where his voice would begin to tremble and he’d go completely silent. All while you’d be practically screaming at the top of your lungs.

You’d always end up a sobbing mess from the emotional turmoil, in which case he would be sure to cuddle you until your crying stopped and would drive the two of you back to his place before fucking you more gently this time. His twisted way of an ‘apology.’

You were either his reward for winning, or a way for him to let off steam.

There was really no in between when it came to him. He’d either fuck you dumb and degrade you, or make love to you, rather roughly but still sweetly, and praise you.

However, tonight was different, because tonight, some common drunk didn’t quite understand who exactly you belonged to.

~~~

You sighed in relief as the game ended, his team being three points ahead. A very close call.

His team cheered and all got together with their friends and significant others.

Your boyfriend ran up to you and kissed you deeply in celebration. You had learned over the past few months of being his little lucky charm that he expected you to kiss back, and you did.

He wrapped his arm around you possessively and took you with him to converse with his friends.

You stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, only giving the awkward smile here or there. You missed your own friends, but he isolated you from them. He couldn’t handle the idea of you hanging out, or even talking with, other people other than him. And if you did hang out with someone it had better be while he was there to make sure they didn’t try anything.

He didn’t care if they were male or female, in his eyes, everyone was a threat, which was part of the reason why he would always be touching you in some way. No matter where the two of you were or who you were with, he’d always have his arm slung around your shoulders or waist, or simply holding your hand was enough for him, so long as it was clear to everyone one that you were his.

As you stood obediently by his side, you got his attention to let him know you were going to use the restroom.

“Be quick about it.” He ordered, before kissing the top of your hair and reluctantly letting you go.

You made your way to the public bathroom building and saw a couple making out on the side of it. You paid them no mind, just ignoring them and making your way inside of the dirty building. Once you were finished you began making your way back and noticed the girl from earlier was alone.

She looked pissed and seemed to be angrily tapping away at her phone, most likely texting someone. Complaining to her friend perhaps?

You wondered how badly the dude must have screwed up to go from making out with the girl to have her venting about him in under five minutes. But you didn’t have time to come up with theories before your path was blocked by the same guy.

“Um…hello.” You awkwardly greeted.

“Hey babes, what’s a pretty thing like you doing over here?” He was drunk, really drunk.

“Um…just minding my business.” You stated bluntly trying to walk around him, be blocked your path again “Excuse me.” You said whilst attempting to get around him. He kept on getting in your way.

“Oh c’mon baby, I don’t bite. Listen, my girl was being a bitch and I’m lonely.” He whined.

This guy didn’t seem dangerous to you, just desperate. The only thing you were afraid of was his alcohol levels which could make him more violent than usual. You did recognize him. He’s been at the games before and he seemed like a pretty decent dude, that still didn’t excuse this behavior though.

“Sorry, I have to get back to my boyfriend, he’s waiting for me.” You told him, managing to slip by and begin walking back to the field.

You were suddenly stopped when your wrist was harshly grabbed. “Boyfriend? Aw, don’t tease me like that bunny.”

“Let go of me!” You firmly warned, pulling your wrist back.

He just rolled his eyes and threw your wrist back at you. “Whatever, fuckin’ bitch.” He uttered, before taking another sip from the beer in his hand.

“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice said from behind you.

You turned around and saw your boyfriend standing over the two of you.

“Nothing.” You told him before trying to walk off. He just caught you in his arms and spun you so your back was against his chest while he held you close.

“No, no obviously something is going on. Who the fuck is this guy?”

“Listen man, I didn’t mean no harm. My girl was being a bitch and I just wanted to see if yours could give a guy the time of day.” The man explained. He seemed bored, as if he hadn’t’ve just tried to get with the girl of the most temperamental man you have ever met.

“So what you’re saying is is that you tried to fuck my girlfriend?” He asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Heh, why you offering?” The rando jokingly asked.

You were suddenly let go of and witnessed your boyfriend begin to beat the ever living shit out of this guy. It was a secluded area, dark and there wasn’t anyone around, otherwise he probably would have waited to knock the guy out.

All you could do was watch. You were far to frightened to stop him. Your hands were shaking and your knees felt weak. Once word hand gotten out that the two of you were together, nobody tried to mess with you. This was the first time a guy flirted with you since your boyfriend entered your life and you were terrified of what he’d do to you.

Would he get angry? Blame you? Finally give into his anger and hit you? He’d never done it before but you felt like he was close to it sometimes.

You worried if he was too delusional to think properly, to see how this wasn’t your fault.

Once he had finished you didn’t dare look at the bloodied body. Was he dead? Knocked out? Still conscious and feeling everything your boyfriend had inflicted on him?

You didn’t have time to find out before your boyfriend violently tugged on your wrist and lead you back towards the stadium.

He was walking in a different direction than you expected, he was taking you underneath the bleachers where who knows what goes on.

He was mumbling to himself, you didn’t hear much of it but what you did hear was along the lines of, “trying to have his way……unbelievable……like a piece of meat……my girl…….like some common whore…….dead by tomorrow……god damn faggot.”

You were terrified.

“Hey…I…I didn’t try to-I wasn’t. I tried to get away from him.” You explained.

The two of you were underneath the bleachers now, be pushed you against one of the metal posts. There were scattered cigarettes and joints everywhere, the floor was slightly muddy and a broken mirror laid a few feet from the two of you.

“Did I ever say I blamed you?! God you really are dense huh?!” He raged. “God I should go back there now and finish him while he’s down.” He was squeezing your arms so tightly, you knew they would be bruised.

He quickly shot his hand inside of your underwear and shoved two fingers in your pussy, not bothering to prep you. That was what your little warm ups before the game were for anyways.

You yelped at the sudden intrusion but was quickly silenced when he smashed his lips onto yours. He moved his fingers in and out of you while his tongue played with yours.

He managed to shake off his pants, leaving him in his boxers. He still had his football jersey on, you didn’t think he’d bother to take it off. When he fucked you out of rage he never usually took off all of your cloths, just to desperate to get to your pussy.

He practically ripped you away from where he had you pinned and turned you around. The two of you were facing the mirror now.

“Look away and I won’t hold back.” He threatened in your ear before continuing to fondle you.

‘Like he wasn’t going to already,’ you thought.

“Wait…wait not here!” You pleaded. “Someone might see.”

“If they do they won’t live to tell the tale.” He muttered, taking your shirt from your body and discarding it to the ground.

God, this man was capable of killing. You didn’t want to think about what he could do to you, how much he was holding back even while fucking you roughly. You were too scared to defy him. Too terrified to do anything other than what he demanded.

Would he get fed up with you one day and end up killing you? You didn’t know. You didn’t want to think about it. All you could do was take what he put out like an obedient slave.

He tore your jeans and underwear off, leaving you in only a bra. Be grabbed you by your hips which caused you to lean over slightly, the two of you still standing up.

He took a fistful of your hair and thrusted into you.

“AAH-” you yelp, squeezing your eyes shut.

He began to thrust into you at a rapid pace, his grunts and groans filling your ears while you desperately tried to keep your voice as quiet as possible.

He took hold of the underside of your jaw and leaned his lips to the lobe of your ear. “Eyes. Up.” He told you.

You quickly did as he said, looking up to the mirror where you saw him relentlessly fucking into you.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you took it.

“God, look at you, my fucking angel.” He whispered before placing a kiss to your cheek and peppering your shoulder with love bites.

He abruptly stopped his movements and moved the two of you two your knees, you kept a firm gaze on the mirror while he held you up against his chest where he began to thrust into you again. He reached his hand around and began to circle your clit with his middle finger.

The feeling was euphoric. He wasn’t speaking as much as he usually did, he wasn’t even degrading you which was different. Usually when the two of you would have rough sex he’d degrade you until you were crying, but he wasn’t this time despite his rough actions.

“Oh…oh god!” You whined.

“Yeah, yeah just keep whining for me. Keep looking beautiful like that.” His eyes seemed to be staring into your soul through the mirror.

Eventually he got bored with the position and flipped you over and slammed you onto the dirt ground.

“Goddamnit! You see what you do to me?!” And he thrusted back into you. He held your legs open for him while his pace only seemed to grow rougher.

“Wait! Wait you’re…ah~ you’re going too-too fast!”

“Am I? To bad baby, you’re gonna take it. I know you like it. Stop trying to convince me that you don’t like our little sessions before and after my games. Your body betrays your mind love.”

A stray tear began to fall down your cheek but the man above you bent down and quickly licked it up before it could get far. He let out a moan and uttered your name into your ear.

You couldn’t help but clench around him when you heard that, only making him more eager.

“Look at me.” He ordered, not giving you a choice since he just grabbed your face and turned you to look at him directly in the eye.

“You belong to me. Nobody else. You only talk to me, only look at me, only touch me, only think of me. Everything you do from here on out will only involve me.” He went on and on about how he wanted to be the only person, only thing in your life.

You felt trapped, and not just by his arms that caged your body, this man had practically took you prisoner. And nobody noticed.

If this was his reaction to someone else trying to take you away from him…you seriously didn’t want to see what he was willing to do if you, yourself tried to get away. All you could do was take it…like he said.

Unfortunately for you he made it so easy to take. The way he thrusted. The way he connected his body to yours. You wished he was more selfish, you wished he was more concerned with his own pleasure, at least then it would make it easier to hate when he fucked you like this.

But he was just so good at it. Giving you attention. Making sure you felt good to, even if it was a little painful at times.

He was even, I guess you could say ‘considerate’ when he was pissed off. If he was just fucking you to let off some steam he never left you unsatisfied, even if he came first. If he came first and was all fucked out but you still had yet to finish, he’d go down on you until you were shivering underneath him.

This time was no different. As he thrusted into you, waves of pleasure washed over your body. It almost felt as if the ocean water was crashing down on you.

“I love you.”

And that sent you over the edge. You didn’t expect to react that way. Those three words, he had never said them to you before. You never expected him to. You thought you were just some toy.

You wrapped your arms around him tightly as your body shook violently from the intense orgasm those words caused you to have.

It was humiliating.

He continued to fuck himself into you for only a few more seconds before he finished himself, your own orgasm sending him over the edge.

“Ah~ Ah-oh fuck! Oh shit! Ah…baby…aah….hmmm.” He groaned.

The two of you stayed still for a minute, simply enjoying each other’s warmth. He was at least.

This man…this man who took you, took your innocents, took your body, stole you away from your friends and family, isolating you from them. This greedy greedy man whom you hated, and now look at you. Desperately cling on to him like he was your life line. As if you’d fall if you let go of him.

Pathetic.

Truly pathetic.

But in his eyes, it was beautiful. He had won. He caught you, and now you were his. Only his.

His little lucky charm.

#yandere x darling #yandere smut #yandere x you #yandere noncon #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #smutty #noncon touching #tw noncon #trigger words #football jock #reader smut #x reader #x you smut

[suspensefulpen]

No Rescue

TW: Restraints, Defiant Whumpee, Noncon Touching, Creepy/Intimate Whumper

Whumper laughed, making Team Leader raise his head. With his arms already raised above his head by a chain hanging from the ceiling while being forced to stand on his tiptoes, his vision briefly clouded. 

“I guess your little team doesn’t care about you after all.” Whumper’s wicked grin widened. “They haven’t attempted to come to your rescue yet.” 

Team Leader grunted, almost dropping his head. “I told them not to…” 

“Did you really?” Whumper stepped up to him. “Or are you saying that to make yourself feel better?” 

Team Leader glared at him, his vision clouding again. “So did you kidnap me to taunt me to death or are you actually going to torture me?” 

“Oh are you asking for it? Because I will provide.” The grin turned into a smirk as Whumper stepped ever closer, his hand coming up to his captive’s chin. “Just ask and you shall receive, you don’t have to worry about that part.” 

“Then do it already.” 

Whumper stepped away, turning his back. “Oh I am. I just haven’t decided what I’m going to do first.” 

“Are you saying that to make yourself feel better?” 

He instantly whipped back around, striking Team Leader’s cheek. For a brief moment, Team Leader wasn’t able to register the action, his dizziness growing stronger. “Don’t you mock me Leader! I don’t need to make myself feel better and justified by spouting out delusional nonsense! Unlike you who needs it for every little thing you do.” 

With a scoff, Whumper left the room in a furious march.

#creative writing #writeblr #writer things #writers on tumblr #whump #whump writing #suspense #restrained #defiant whumpee #noncon tw #noncon touching #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #team whump