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oliversrarebooks · 9 months

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lay down on the operating table

TW: forced sedation, experimentation, restraints, struggling

Lay down on the operating table for us. I know you're upset about being experimented on and brainwashed, but it's for the greater good. You'll feel much better about it once we've sedated you. These restraints are for your own safety. Just put your arm down, and -- there we go, all secured. Just relax. There's no point in fighting. You should know that by now.

That's right, soon you'll be trapped inside a body that's too heavy and too drowsy to move, completely relaxed, unable to focus on anything but how much you want to sleep. Every fiber of your body will be relaxed. Your eyelids will become too heavy to keep open. The sedation will slowly overwhelm you until you can't fight it any more.

And once you're asleep, no matter what is done to you, you will not resist. You won't even be aware of what is happening. You'll be completely at our mercy, sleeping so peacefully. Once the sedative starts to kick in, you won't even remember a thing.

Here, let me put the mask on you and secure it. It's only oxygen. Now breath in deeply. One deep relaxing breath for me. In and out. That's it. Another deep breath. In and out. Good.

Now I am going to start the drug that will put you to sleep. It'll take a few minutes to work, but soon it's going to make you very, very relaxed, and very, very sleepy. No use holding your breath. Just breath normally. There you go.

That's it. Relax and let the sedative work its magic on you. You'll start to feel drowsy and floaty as the drug enters your system. Your eyes will become heavy, and you'll let them drift shut. Your mind will blank, leaving you so relaxed. Do you feel it yet?

You're starting to look a bit dazed. The sedation is beginning to work, I think. You're feeling nice and relaxed, aren't you? And so sleepy. I can see your eyes blinking so slowly. No, no, it's no use to struggle against the restraints. Eventually, you'll stop fighting it and go to sleep.

Your body is becoming heavy and your mind is growing hazy. Just lie back on the table, yes, that's good. Take another deep breath. Is that a yawn? Is the gas making you drowsy? You're starting to feel it affecting you, aren't you? Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, fighting those heavy eyelids.

I bet you feel so calm and peaceful. Like you want to let yourself drift off to sleep, right?

Your body and mind are relaxing and becoming more sedated, and there's so little you can do about it. Your eyelids want to drift shut. That tiredness is spreading all throughout your body. Is it starting to get hard to keep your eyes open? Is your head starting to feel heavy? Do you feel like you could fall asleep at any moment if you wanted to?

Yes, that's how the sedative is supposed to make you feel -- calm, relaxed, heavy, sleepy. You're fighting your body's natural urges to go to sleep. You'll lose that battle. You are going to go to sleep.

Did you realize that you've stopped struggling against the restraints? It looks like you can barely keep your eyes open. Slowly and surely, the sedative is putting you to sleep, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's no use fighting those heavy, tired eyelids. They're shutting all on their own.

That's right, you're completely unable to fight the sedation. It's strong and powerful. It will make you feel floaty and drowsy and oh so blissful. It will override your desire to stay awake. It was all over the second we started the drug, and you knew that.

The sedation is conquering your body and soon it will conquer your mind. Your body will fall asleep soon. Let yourself stop fighting, let sleep claim your helpless body. Let sleep take you. Let the sedation claim you. Let your eyelids close.

You're becoming drowsy, drowsier and sleepier. Soon your eyelids will close, and you will give in to the sedation, and you will be so docile and pliant and entirely at my mercy. Are you ready for that? The moment when your eyelids close will be the point of no return. A fleeting moment when you are not yet asleep and not quite awake. A moment where you know you've lost the fight, where you feel utterly helpless.

There we go. Shut those sleepy eyes for me. Don't open them again. Let the sedative put you fast asleep. There we go, fall asleep. Go to sleep, deep asleep. So deeply asleep. It feels so good to stop fighting and go to sleep. And now that you've fallen asleep, we can do whatever experiments we please.

Now, we can get to work.

#whump #whump writing #whumpee #medical whump #drug whump #sedation #experiment whump #tw restraints #sleep

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fern-writes-whump · 9 months

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Whumpee who was always kept chained up, except for when whumper wanted to play with them. So used to being hurt while they are "free" that even when they get rescued they keep begging to be restrained <3

#whump #whump prompt #whumpee #whumper #whump scenario #whump trope #captive whumpee #rescue #queue #tw restraints #conditioning #fern whumps

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whumpy-bi · 11 months

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Whumpee in an enemy hospital. Forced into medical treatment after being captured.

Always restrained to their bed, always under supervision by someone—a nurse, a guard, a doctor. All part of the enemy forces, all regarding them with a detached coldness.

They don’t know where they’ll be taken after they’re healed, they’re afraid to ask. Maybe, if you’re into it, Whumpee fights like hell for the first few days because they were still captured and finally stop after days of drug induced sleep. Hoping for rescue, because there’s absolutely no chance at escape with their current condition.

They try to plead with doctors, asking for any small mercy—to let them go, to take the restraints off, anything!—but to no avail.

Just…captured in an enemy hospital.

#whump #whumpee #writing #whump writing #whumper #whump thoughts #captured #kidnapping #hospital #medical whump #tw hospital #tw restraints

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

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Tag Team

Warnings: dub-con with JB & JJ, restraints, orgasm denial, over stimulation, use of toys 🔥

I read the text again from John B, telling me to meet him at the Chateau well past midnight. We'd been messing around for a while and my body was excited. The anticipation was killing me. We'd done everything except fuck and I don't think I can wait any longer. I knew what he was packing and I was desperate to feel it inside me. My pussy pulses as I step inside the dark house. That was weird. He always left a light on for me.

"John B?" I call out his name just as he emerges from the hallway, his expression blank. A small smirk plays at my lips as I stop in front of him, resting my hands on his chest.

"Why is it dark in here?" I whisper, leaning up to kiss him. He lets me, not kissing me back.

"Are you scared?" John B murmurs, his hands finding my waist and pulling me closer. I kiss him again and he licks his lips.

"What's going on? Why won't you kiss me?" I scoff, my body suddenly on high alert. He gives a small smile before cupping my face and kissing me softly. I reach down and palm his cock through his shorts as he backs me up towards the kitchen table.

"Strip." John B says in a husky voice, his cock growing in my hand. I quickly kick my sandals off and bare myself for him. He spins me around and pushes me to bend over the table. My legs shake in anticipation as his warm hands slide down my back and over the swell of my ass, squeezing as he goes.

"John B." I moan his name as his fingers glide over my pussy in a light teasing touch.

"Such a pretty pussy." I hear him murmur. "I want to tie you up so you can't escape me. Is that okay?" He asks, using two fingers to circle my clit. I buck and moan as I nod desperately.

"Please, John B. Please touch me." I moan as he ties my legs open with soft rope to the legs of the table. He moves in front of me with more rope in his hands.

"Keep begging. I love hearing you beg for me." John B murmurs, carefully tying my wrists together then securing them to another leg of the table. I was stretched tightly, unable to move or escape him. He could use me anyway he wanted like this. I was so wet.

"John B, please, use me. I need you." I gasp, hunger running through my veins. He slowly unbuttons his colorful button up, revealing delicious abs and light chest hair.

"Is this what you want?" John B whispers, dropping his shirt to the floor as he teases me.

"More." I plead, watching as he strokes himself through his shorts. He was so hard.

"Are you my good little slut? Do you want me to fuck your pussy or your mouth?" John B rasps, that voice making me shudder.

"Both." I cry, licking my lips as he unzips his shorts and pulls himself free. His cock was beautiful and hard with a slight curve. Begging for attention.

"You need all your pretty holes filled?" John B whispers, stroking himself just inches from my mouth. My mouth was practically watering with the need to taste him. I nod. A wicked grin forms across his face as he bends at the waist so we're eye level.

"Did you think we wouldn't find out?" His voice is low, eyes ablaze as I try to wrap my mind around what he just said. We?

I yelp in surprise when another set of hands grab my ass, digging in their fingers as another clothed cock is pressed against my pussy.

"Did you think you could play us both?" My eyes widen at the sound of JJ's voice, his hands sliding up and down my body. Panic started to set in as I yank on my restraints. I was trapped and exposed to them. Both of them. They were both here. They figured it out.

"You tricked me." I say breathlessly as I glare up at John B. They both laugh.

"Tricked you? We're going to give you what you want, slut. We're going to fill all your little holes with our cum. We're going to use you how you've been using us." John B smiles as JJ molds himself to my back, kissing and biting my skin. My body was buzzing. I was so turned on I could hardly breathe.

"But we're going to have a little fun first." JJ growls, retreating back down my body and I hear him drop to the floor. A second later his mouth is on my pussy. I cry out as he devours me, thrusting his tongue inside me then sucking on my clit.

"We're going to leave you like this for a while. Leaving you wanting and desperate for release." John B says but I can't focus on his words. My body is trembling uncontrollably as JJ eats my pussy. The man could use his tongue. My orgasm was so close. So close. My toes start to curl, my body growing taunt when he stops. I cry out in frustration as JJ laughs, getting to his feet.

"Poor little slut. So desperate to be filled." I gasp when JJ's thick cock presses against my pussy, coating himself in my arousal.

"We will fill you. Eventually." John B swipes his thumb over my parted lips then shoves two fingers to the back of my throat. "Suck." He demands. I close my mouth around his digits as JJ thrusts against my slit, letting his head catch but never going inside. I'm becoming a wet, blubbering mess as they tease me. I use my eyes to silently beg but John B doesn't care as he keeps making me gag on his fingers.

"God, she's so wet." JJ growls behind me, the head suddenly catching my entrance and I moan loudly.

"Don't fuck her. Not yet." John B snaps, making JJ growl in frustration. I wiggle my ass in a desperate plea but JJ laughs, slapping my ass hard.

"Just the tip, then I'll stop."

"JJ." John B warns, removing his fingers from my mouth like he'll have to physically stop JJ. I could feel JJ's cock pulsing against my pussy. His restraint was wavering. I wiggle my hips again and JJ slaps my ass, pulling his cock away with a curse. Tears start to fall from my eyes when I hear him spit between my cheeks and his finger is pressing against my asshole. I tense but I can't pull away.

"What's wrong, slut? You didn't think this hole was off the table did you?" JJ taunts, pushing a thick finger in without much warning. I cry out. God, it hurts. It burns. But as soon as he starts to pump it slowly, I'm on the brink of cumming again.

"She likes that."

"I know she does." JJ stops again and I sob, my body starting to hurt from the restraints. John B lowers himself in front of me so we're eye level, wiping my tears while JJ rummages around behind me. What was he doing?

"What was your goal? Ruin our friendship? Did you think we'd fight over pussy?" John B says, swiping his thumb over my bottom lip.

"It is a nice pussy." I hear JJ say as something small and oblong suddenly ran through my slit. I jump, panic setting in again. I open my mouth to make a smart comment when the toys comes to life, vibrating me to my core. I scream and my panties are suddenly shoved in my mouth at the same time the toy is pushed inside me. It's curved and a piece on the outside is pressed directly against my clit. I cum hard and fast from the sudden stimulation, my whole body convulsing despite their taunting laughter. If this is how I die, I'll take it.

JJ moves in front of me, letting me see them both as tears flow freely. One orgasm turns into two and my body convulses violently, my muscles screaming against the restraints.

"Do you think it's too much?" John B looks at JJ with fake remorse. JJ pursues his bottom lip and shrugs like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Nah." My eyes fall closed as they both stare at me with wicked grins. "We can always turn it up from your phone though. Or down." JJ says, smirking back at John B.

"Oh, we forgot something." John B steps away and I don't even bother trying to plead with JJ. I knew he liked shit like this. I hear John B rummaging like JJ was earlier and I know something is coming. JJ looks to his best friend like he's trying to avoid getting caught while quickly freeing himself from his shorts. My eyes widen as the glistening tip of his cock is brought to my cheek and he smears it from one side of my face to the other. I grunt through my gag, glaring at him as he smears his precum all over my face.

"Might want to relax." JJ's condescending voice says, smirking down at me. A moment later something cool and metal is being pressed inside my ass. I scream into my gag as I cum just from being filled. I hear their laughter as I jerk against my restraints, my body threatening to give out. John B appears again with a satisfied smile just as JJ tucks himself away.

"Be good for us. We'll be back.. eventually." John B jerks his head at JJ, signaling their departure but JJ hesitates, his hungry gaze washing over my naked and exposed body.

"Oh, we're going to have so much fun." JJ murmurs under his breath, licking his lips, before following after his best friend.

It was going to be a long, wet night.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow #john b smut #john b routledge #john b obx #obx3 #tw restraints #tw overstimulation

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 4 months

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31st Story

Part 2

TW: Captivity, implied past torture, blood mention, restraints, mistrust, starvation mention, defiant whumpee, corrupt system, knife

Heyyy! Long-time no see. I blame college 100% because it takes up all my time, seriously. Happy New Year tho 💙

Villain could tell himself he was already used to the cold, hard embrace of the dull rock of his cell, to the claustrophobia-inducing lack of windows, to the fact that the only times he ever got to see the light was when someone walked in to beat him senseless, a feat made incredibly easy with the help of the chains that shackled his wrists and ankles, not allowing for much movement.

He could pretend that being covered in blood and filth, dazed and starving, was nothing to him, that the maddening urge to find out what time it was wasn't gnawing at him torturously.

"In here, wishful thinking is all you are capable of," a sunken-faced, old prisoner had told him before he was thrown into his personal hellhole. He hadn't said anything, but he'd believed the old hag to be weak and hopeless, and thus so was her sentiment.

Right now, all he wondered was if he'd break even faster than that woman might have. The villain screwed his eyes shut, hoping it would stop the chain of thoughts poisoning his mind, but all that did was make him think clearer, every disturbing image he tried so desperately to expel growing clearer and more vivid by the moment.

It was bad enough handling the physical pain, where every time he so much as shifted his form slightly, the tormented muscles in his back would scream in protest. But the physical side was tolerable, compared to being left at the mercy of his mind; a cruel, sinister thing.

So consumed he was in his own reverie, he hadn't even noticed as the door to his cell was unlocked, at least not until the light skirting around the corner had him snapping his eyes open and sitting up.

"This doesn't look good on you," a silky, almost serpentine voice called out.

"Superhero?" he asked, despising the note of trepidation in his voice.

"No. Just her lacklustre twin," she scoffed.

"Vigilante," he deduced with a slight fall of his shoulders in relief. It's not that he believed Vigilante would treat him well, it's just that no one could rival Superhero in cruelty.

"Still ever the genius," she responded dryly.

"What do you want?" he asked, almost desperate. If she was here to torment him, he wanted her to get over with it. It was becoming progressively more difficult to bear the state in which he was in, the one chock-full of waiting and thinning patience, of hoping the pain would start so it could end, that this time would pass faster.

Except it never did.

"It's strange seeing someone normally so high and mighty like this," she attested, dodging his question.

The older version of him would have let out a frustrated snarl and cussed her out for annoying him, but now all he could do was bite his tongue and stare at her with his new resting face, broken and defeated.

"Well, I'm not here to hurt you," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

That was a response, albeit an indirect one. And of course, she wasn't here to hurt him. She was here to make sure he was comfortable, that he was enjoying his five-star stay in this resort in hell.

Sucks to have an army of enemies and not a single semblance of a friend.

He and Vigilante hadn't really had any direct bad blood, but he was a villain locked up in here, so by default, he was supposed to be her enemy, right? It didn't matter who walked in here or whether they knew him or not. They just loved to see him break, to see him, once so relentlessly powerful, reduced to less than nothing. Perhaps it brought them a sort of sick satisfaction, but he didn't know much about satisfaction anymore to judge.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she said casually, like promising him the impossible was some sort of small punishment, nothing to tear himself up about. Maybe she could rival her sister in cruelty.

Without warning, a hysterical laugh escaped his throat, only for him to bite his lip and stop abruptly, trying to clamp a hand over his mouth only for him to remember he was chained up.

Vigilante's face fell, and his own had silent tears streaming down it. He felt as though he couldn't breathe, as though bricks were raining down on his shoulders and crushing his bones into nothing. His whole being seemed to itch with dread.

"Villain?" Vigilante called out, looking a mixture of confused and horrified.

"Just get over with it! Torture me until the floor runs red with my blood, tell me how death is a mercy above vermin like myself, and tell me to take it with a smile. Hit me harder when I can't bring myself to do it. Hit me until I feel all the pain of death but never attain it. Remember my current words as defiance, as another crime I've committed. I think watching me be humbled to the nothing I truly am will entertain you as any show would," he spat, only for regret to colour his features just as fast.

"Damn it. Villain, I don't want to do. . .any of this to you," Vigilante started, careful, trying for a semblance of gentle, something she was never particularly good at. "Like I said, I'm going to get you out of here," she continued again, hoping the stern tone indicated she was serious and not somehow going to torture him.

She'd never particularly liked him, mainly because he'd always been ice-cold, calculated to a point he seemed inhuman at times, no emotion whatsoever showing up on his face, besides a cool smugness. And by virtue of all the terrible things he'd done, all the blood on his hands. And yet, he was far from the worst thing out there, and most definitely not the villain in her story.

"And let's pretend you're telling the truth, which is completely fine by me because any mercy I've ever had here has always been a pretence, a figment of my imagination, you know. What could you possibly gain from this?" He raised an eyebrow, bearing a small resemblance to his usual self. Well, at least there was a slight amount of fight left in him, even if he was clearly holding back tears now.

But the villain's question wasn't completely outlandish. Vigilante did want something from him, but it wasn't a favour he would ever come to hate. "I need your help. My sister may seem like the goddamn tooth fairy to those who don't know better, but we know what her regime is really doing. This isn't about fighting crime, it's about her insatiable addiction to power."

"And where do I belong here?" The villain's voice still held the same disbelieving tone, his shoulders managing to tense even further.

"You're one of the few people who challenged her, Villain. And as much as it pains me to say it, you're a good strategist," she explained, even though she knew she'd barely convinced him in the slightest.

"I can't be the only one fitting that description, but I can be the only one owing you a favour too," he answered. Even if he didn't look half as confident, half as untouchable as before, the criminal was still just as clever. But it also meant he wasn't believing her anytime soon. Still, he wasn't wrong. The villain may not have smelled like roses all the time, but he'd be loyal to make sure they were even; a man of his word.

"What's it gonna be, Villain? Come with me or stay here?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest, growing impatient.

Well, it didn't make sense for her to give him a choice if she was going to torture him, but sense no longer governed things in his mind, letting a fearful apprehension replace it, no matter how humiliating. The choice could easily be an illusion, another cruel joke in this comedy skit from the filthiest parts of hell.

But it could be a chance, and he was desperate. So desperate he'd risk feeling even further degraded when she laughed in his face and put him through whatever torment she'd have planned.

"Fine," he answered, looking up at her with trepidation in his eyes. He could already feel the regret tasting like salt on his tongue and the burn of acid at the back of his throat he recognised as shame.

So when the sound of his chains being unlocked rang in his ears, and the vigilante helped him up, the feeling of surprise was palpable.

"I just need to handcuff you while they can see us," she explained, noticing how slowly the villain nodded, mistrust still burning in his eyes.

She didn't like how weightless he seemed against her, barely able to walk. She hadn't fought him much, but she clearly remembered that while his frame was somewhat slender, the villain's build still used to be athletic. It was no surprise he'd deteriorated, but that didn't make his fate any less cruel.

"I'm moving him to the other facility," she announced, practically dragging the half-starved villain with her, the only response being curt nods from the guards.

They were lucky that no one here would dare question Superhero and by default, her sister, if they could even tell the difference between both.

And sure enough, there was an entry documented into the other facility, done with the help of a few handsomely paid workers. And while Superhero wouldn't buy into the lie for long, it would at least make sure she didn’t notice immediately that something was up.

✨️Break✨️

The drive to Vigilante's house was almost torturously long and reeking of the tension of two people who weren't used to each other. The villain ran his fingers over his wrists, now free of handcuffs, but they still hurt. All of him hurt, a constant, dull pain that he was almost used to, but that didn't mean he didn't miss the times where he could remember moments without aches all over his body.

That was only the least of it anyway.

"I think you'd want to clean up," the vigilante had suggested when they'd got to her house.

Instead of an off-hand "yeah" like he'd meant to, the first words that foolishly came tumbling out of his mouth were: "I can?"

This wasn't an option they gave him back there, and soon enough he'd stopped caring entirely.

"Oh," Vigilante had responded, giving him a solemn look. "I mean, yes, of course you can," she corrected hastily.

He nodded, quite literally shoving himself into the bathroom and swallowing down the awkward shame in his throat.

He'd grown so accustomed to pain that he'd barely even noticed the sting of the hot water on his open, practically fresh wounds, or how the shower water underneath him turned a dull pink. He was a lot more focused on how his sore muscles relaxed with the heat, how he seemed to get lighter with all the dirt off him, good sensations having become foreign to him in the time of his captivity.

He walked out to find a change of clothes (his clothes) on the bed in the room outside, catching his reflection in the mirror, bruises lining his cheekbones and jaw and heavy, dark circles underneath his eyes. The villain simply ignored the old memories of himself taking the time to style his hair and care for his skin, his mind hardwired for survival, looking around the room for anything he could use in case he had to defend himself.

Not that Vigilante was stupid enough for that.

Still, if she wished to hurt him, she could've done it faster, could've done it earlier. Maybe the villain wouldn't trust her blindly, but so far, he hated her less bitterly than he hated everyone else.

"How'd you get these?" he asked, walking out, looking down at the black zip-up hoodie and black sweats.

Vigilante shrugged. "From your place."

"You broke into my- whatever." It wasn't the strangest part about the situation now. "What are we supposed to do?"

"I think you need to rest," she suggested.

And she was entirely correct, given his exhaustion and how the shower had made him somewhat sleepy, so he nodded his head, walking into "his" room and waiting until she walked up to her room, waiting until he could walk out and check if she'd slept, and once he was sure, he walked into the kitchen, picking up a knife and bringing it to his room.

The villain knew it was scummy, but he wasn't about to risk being hurt again, and if the vigilante truly had good intentions, the knife would never be put to use. Still, the villain had managed to fall into a fitful sleep, still better than any night he spent curled up on a cold, hard floor.

Trust is never easy, especially for those who have been hurt one too many times. But people were not made to live forever encased in solitude, a safe option to the blind and foolish, but never a permanent solution. And while taking a risk in times of suffering might seem like a wretched fate, sometimes it is the lifeline you need to breathe again.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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forged-in-kaoss · 4 months

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The arrows represent the days I spent alone since the night of that storm. The number of times I mourned for my beloved friends that I suddenly lost. Now do you understand how I feel?

#monkey d luffy #luffy #mugiwara no luffy #one piece #baron omatsuri and the secret island #baron omatsuri #gif #angst #whump #fast moving gif #body horror #god this took some work but i'm sooooo happy with how these gifs came out #literally the first gif i started with 2800 frames and cut out all the shots in between to bring it down to like 230 #just the 4 limbs getting pinned is about a 2 minute sequence #lily chewing is so cute but also awful in context #tw restraints

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fulcrumwrites · 2 months

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Prompt #10: Locks

Locks are so incredibly underutilized in whump writing. They are, of course, alluded to, but almost never described. Some examples:

• Whumpee’s heart drops as they hear the heavy, final click of their captor turning the key in the lock to their cell/cage/coffin/closet/etc. Trapped, they listen as the footsteps fade away, leaving them in the cold, dark, and loneliness.

• From the other side, whumpee can hear whumper sealing the door with layers of chains before padlocking it. They throw themselves against the door, screaming for help. But the chains and lock don’t give.

• Locking the padlock on chains, tugging it to make sure it won’t snap. Stepping back and smirking as whumpee tries to move. Then whumper draping the string of the key over their neck to taunt their captive or slipping it into their pocket out of sight.

• Handcuffs, collars, and shackles that lock automatically once snapped shut. Too quickly restrained to struggle, no chance to fight back.

• Alternatively, restraints that require to be locked manually. Whumpee fights as long as they can. Eventually, whumper gets the restraints around them and soon after jams the key in the hole. Whumpee sags in defeat once they feel the twist and hear the click. They’re stuck now.

• Sci-fi locks that require a fingerprint, passcode, or a keycard.

• New objective: find key/keycard/fingerprint/passcode/etc. in order to escape.

• Locked in a room with a bomb, a monster, poison gas, filling with water, an interrogator, etc.

• Metal gags, muzzles, and masks that lock. Even if their hands are free, whumpee can’t remove the gag to speak. If they escape, they’re mute until they can find a way to get it off.

• Locking whumpee in a room, cell, tower, etc. to prevent them from completing their mission, delivering information, or stoping a crisis.

• Whumper dangles the key in front of their captive’s face before throwing it away or swallowing it. “You’re never leaving this place.”

• Trapped in a lockdown protocol.

• Connecting restraints with padlocks to make whumpee even more immobile: connecting two cuffs around the wrists and/or ankles with a padlock instead of a short chain; lock the chain between cuffs to the chain tethering their neck to the floor, padlock a loose chain to a loop in the floor, wall, or pillar; padlock two people together, etc.

• Smashing a lock with a brick or stone or the butt of a gun. Shooting out the lock (I play Uncharted). Even kicking the door and breaking a weak lock.

• Captive has lock-picks hidden in their hair, mouth, or clothing. They quietly and skillfully pick the lock and escape. Maybe they are caught in the act and there are consequences.

• Magic locks. Only the person who enchanted the lock or the right counter-spell can unlock it.

• Emotions of panic and desperation as a whumpee who hasn’t given up yet pulls at the chains in hopes of finding a weak point. Or defeated acceptance once they hear the final click, knowing they’re stuck.

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womanofwords · 4 months

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Bedroom in a Bird Cage

Darling woke up in a different bedroom to the one that he fell asleep in. He woke up to find his older sibling watching him from the other side of their room.

"Wakey, wakey, precious!" Yandere cooed.

"Wha?" Darling tried to get out of bed, but something was pulling on his ankles. It rattled in protest.

"Just a little something to keep you safe," Yandere explained.

"I'm chained to the bed! And where am I?" Darling panicked, and Yandere rushed to soothe him.

"It's OK, I promise! I'm going to look after you properly now," Yandere cooed. "Obviously, I can't just let other people look after you like that. So I'll have to do it. None of these people know how to look after you."

"What?! No, I was fine." Darling shook his head, but Yandere knew better.

"Nuh-uh. I have to take care of you. Nobody else will be looking after you ever again, just me." Darling tried to remove the restraints, but Yandere stopped him. "Uh-uh! That keeps you safe, precious!" Yandere giggled, tightening the restraints with an eerie smile. "No getting hurt with this on you!"

"But you hurt me!" Darling screamed. "You're the one that hurt me! I should be protected from you!"

Yandere stiffened. Darling was right. Yandere wasn't always so loving and protective. They used to be the exact opposite.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

FLASHBACK

"Little brat!" Yandere snarled. They beat Darling black and blue as Darling sobbed.

"I'm sorry! I won't talk to you in-" Darling's words were cut off as Yandere punched him in their mouth hard. Yandere was in a frenzy, driven by a desire to see Darling's blood.

"Who's the boss of you, you little waste of space? Tell me who - oh no. No, no, no, no!"

Darling looked like he was dead. Blood leaked out of his mouth. A twitching hand was his only sign of life.

"HELP! SOMEBODY!" Yandere screamed, sobbing as they scooped Darling up and carried him to the nearest house. He needed an ambulance. And if Darling survived, Yandere would dedicate their life to looking after them.

They would be the most gentle and loving sibling Darling would ever know.

And that would have to be Yandere.

END FLASHBACK

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

"Precious, that won't happen to you again. Never again." Yandere scooped up Darling and rocked them back and forth in their arms. "How about we go downstairs and eat breakfast now? You must be hungry."

Breakfast for Yandere and breakfast for Darling was very different. For Yandere, breakfast consisted of chocolatey cereal and some orange juice. For Darling, Yandere prepared a strawberry-flavoured meal replacement shake that was poured into a bottle for him.

"I don't want that! I want something that I can chew!" Darling whined.

"No, precious, your jaw isn't healed enough. You can only have liquids. Here you go, precious," Yandere cooed. "Look, it's like a rocket ship!"

Darling let a silent tear escape his eye as he was bottle fed by his adoring older sibling. There was no escape from this fresh hell.

#creative writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers #my writing #writing #writerscommunity #platonic yandere #yandere caretaker #tw restraints

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silvrash-797 · 24 days

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A new WIP emerges!

Glassbound

A Febuwhump fic based off of the amazing art by @hyah-lian

Read next

Read on ao3

Chapter 1: Prologue

Hyrule fought: against the awful chains binding him hand and foot, against the hunger and anxiety churning in his stomach, against the terrible fear that nobody would find him.

Best he could tell, he’d been hanging here, alone, for the better part of two days. No food, no water, no company…he should have been used to this.

He used to be used to this, but then he’d met his brothers, the other heroes across time, and they’d brought light and life and warmth to his existence.

He shivered, causing his body to sway, then winced at the pain that flared in his shoulders. He sighed, head hung low, and tried to blink back tears. One escaped regardless, dripping down onto his bare foot.

I miss my brothers.

Fatigue slipped over him like a shroud, like Warriors' scarf or Sky's sailcloth, and he allowed the imagined comfort to usher him into dreams.

#febuwhump 2024 #first multi-chap fic that isn't a pov swap let's gooooo!#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu hyrule #tw restraints #lu fanfiction

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fuwushiguro · 2 years

Text

Turning Diamonds Into Snow

Tetta Kisaki x f!reader Genre: Smut Notes: I know a lot of people hate Kisaki (me included lmao) and he isn't very popular but I hope some of you guys enjoy this Warnings: 18+, dubcon/noncon, smoking, age gap, adultery, model!reader, sir!kink, cocaine use, substance abuse, stockholm syndrome, coercion, degradation, restraints, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, daddy kink, dumbification, slapping, breeding, creampie. Words: 3k

3am.

It’s 3am and you’re alone in a random diner, little hands clutching onto a steaming cup of coffee. You’re dying for it to cool. Not so much that it tastes disgusting, but enough that you can drink it and stop the tremors wracking through your body. People are staring, though it’s nothing new. You suspect they are likely glances of pity.

Because, truly, you look pathetic.

There are a group of boys from another booth looking over at you. Not boys, actually… men. They’re all in suits. They’ve been asking the waitress for coffee refills since you got here two hours ago.

One man is staring more intently than the others. He’s wearing round glasses. His hair combed over to one side, black and blonde streaking through unevenly. You can’t help but notice the tattoo on his hand.

Sin.

You think he might notice you staring when he puts his coffee cup down. Quickly you look away, but soon enough he’s picking it up again. This time with the other hand.

Punishment.

A bolt of fear strikes through you as you realise this group of men may not be ones you should be stuck in a diner with at this ungodly hour.

“I recognise her.” Hanma states, earning a scoff from the group he’s with.

“No shit. You’ve been staring at her since she walked in.” Kisaki explains, shaking his head and fishing around for a cigarette in the pocket of his expensive looking coat. The waitress approaches with the intention of forbidding him from smoking inside. However a deathly glare from the three men in front of her soon deters her. “Who is she?”

“Dunno. I just feel like I’ve seen her somewhere.” Hanma adds, lighting a flame for Kisaki to ignite his cigarette with.

“Probably a hooker,” Mikey chimes in, too busy focusing on his phone to be fully engaged with the conversation. Hanma rolls his eyes and returns to focus on figuring out who you are.

“That sounds right. World class hooker, hah?” Kisaki joins in with the teasing.

World class.

The words unlock something in Shuuji’s mind. World class…

“Oh fuck. She’s famous, boys.” Hanma states. It’s enough to fully steal Mikey’s attention as he raises a sceptical brow and looks in your direction. Kisaki can’t help but do the same, all three of them staring at you as they wonder if there is any truth to what he’s saying. “Give me your phone, I’ll show you.” Hanma asks.

“Huh? Use your own.”

“It’s dead. Hand it over.”

Kisaki sighs and hands his phone over to his friend. Soon enough he’s on the Instagram app and typing in your username. He places the phone down flat on the table to let mikey and Kisaki look through your profile.

“Cute.” Mikey speaks, weakly.

“She’s a model? Very cute.” Kisaki adds.

“See, look, magazine covers and runway stuff too. Not just an Instagram model, she’s a real one.” he tells them, almost as if he’s defending your honour and life choices.

Kisaki stubs out his cigarette on the table, shuffling out of the booth and standing to his feet. He folds his coat over himself. “Thanks for the tip.” he winks as he walks towards you. Hanma groans, furious he didn’t act first when he had the upper hand.

You stiffen when you notice this terrifying man is actually walking towards you. He smiles, you think he might be trying to ease your nerves. But his smile isn’t sincere, that much is clear. You feel even more scared, if anything.

“Need a refill, sweetheart?” he asks you.

“U-Um…” you can’t answer before he’s signalling the waitress to come over. “Thank you, sir.” you smile, hoping it doesn’t look too forced.

Sir, huh? Oh… he loves the sound of that.

“What are you doing out so late? Been partying… or fall out with your boyfriend?” he wonders, attempting to figure out your situation. He wants to know why you’re alone. If anyone will be asking where you went or if anyone will actually care if you don’t go home tonight.

“Y-Yeah… uh, my… boyfriend.” you stutter, flailing over your own words as you try and get them out as quickly as possible. Kisaki waits for the waitress to top up your coffee, tipping her and winking his thanks as he watches her walk away. He’d rather not have any prying ears, if possible.

“You’re not a very good liar.”

“What?”

“There’s no boyfriend, is there?” he tells you. He takes note of how uncomfortable you look and snickers, trusting it will be enough to lower your high guard. “Don’t worry, I know we look shady but I promise we aren’t.”

“I didn’t say that…” you object, feebly. It’s clear you’ve made a judgement about him before even speaking to him. And if he’s being honest, you’ve likely read him like a book.

But he’s not going to tell you that.

“We’re just off a late flight from a business trip. Trying to get some down time before we go home to our families.” he explains.

That should settle your nerves. Hearing that he’s a businessman with a family. Family will most likely translate to a wife and a few kids in your mind. And you’re not wrong about that. You can see the wedding ring on his finger. He’s even willing to show you his brood of brats if you feel the need to question him about it.

“Where was the trip?” you ask him, curiously. Travel is a weakness of yours. It’s something you’ve always planned to do and would still love to do, if circumstances were different.

“Germany.” he answers, plainly. “See how easy it is to answer questions? Don’t be shy… tell me why you’re here.” he insists. You look around, wondering if it’s the right thing to do. But, really, what’s the harm? It’s not like he can use it against you.

“I had a fight with my family… so… I just wanted some space.”

“Families are tough, babe, I understand.” he nods in agreement. He’s a master manipulator, unbeknownst to you. Offering faux sympathy and mimicking your body language to set your mind at ease. And, Christ, wouldn’t you know it? It’s working. “What was the fight about?”

“I— I’d rather not say…” you tell him. Ah. This should be good.

“C’mon.” he encourages you. He leans over the table, hoping you’ll do the same. “It can’t be that bad.” he whispers.

“W-Well…” you start, quietly, doing as he wished and leaning your face closer to his. “I like to party… but they don’t like the way I party.” you tell him in hushed tones.

“Ahhh, drugs, right?”

“Mhmmn, I like coke.” you smile, almost shyly. Would you look at that. A bona fide cokewhore. “S’not a big deal… y’know? They just don’t get it. They like to overreact, my parents are dumb strict.” you tell him.

“How old are you? You could get your own place.” he suggests, but you shake your head in response.”

“I’m twenty-five. And, yeah, I make a bunch of my own money so I should be able to move out, right? Nope… my psycho fucking parents have control of my bank account.” you explain. This is the most you’ve talked to anyone about this, and he’s a complete stranger. You have no idea why you’re telling him all of this. But it’s simple, really. You’re under his spell.

“I mean… c’mon, kiddo. Probably ‘cause of the coke habit.” he laughs. You sigh in response. “Don’t be like that, baby. I get it.”

“What do you know about it? You’re old enough to be my dad, your partying days are long over.” you respond, rudely.

“Ouch, princess has a bite, hah?” he laughs. He reaches into his coat pocket, his eyes fixated on yours. “I suppose you won’t be interested in this, then.” he grins, showing off a small bag of coke to you as discretely as he can.

“Hah, no way. What does your family think about that?”

“My family can have an opinion when they pay the bills.” he laughs, almost like he’s joking despite being deathly serious. “Interested?” he wonders. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to take his hand off at the generous honour.

“What’s the catch?” you query. With guys like this; offers like this, there’s always a catch.

“Come home with me.”

“Hah. That’s low. What about your wife?” you ask, genuinely curious how he plans to explain this away.

“Baby, I’ve got all the coke either of us could want and I’m taking business trips all over the world just for the fun of it. You think I don’t own more than one home?”

All the coke you could ever want.

It’s an enticing offer. And the more he dangles the bag in front of your face, you know you’re too weak willed to decline. It might be the worst decision you’ll ever make. But… you just can’t say no to the siren call of white powder.

And then, you’re nodding.

He smiles. An entirely evil toothy smile. But you’re already grabbing your jacket and your bag before standing up. He holds out his arm to you, offering you to link with him. He escorts you out. But not before winking at his friends with pride.

“Do you love me?”

It’s a question he’s asked every single day since you met so many months ago. He didn’t need a real answer.

Not at first.

You’d respond with a giggle. Or a boisterous laugh. Sometimes you’d answer his question with a kiss which always created a pathway into you fucking each other until the sun would rise.

Truthfully, you don’t think you’ve ever been so happy.

It’s unconventional, sure, but still you find yourself smiling every day without fail. It’s easy being with Kisaki. It’s easy being his little secret. No one knows where you are, except him. He doesn’t like it when you leave the house. He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t know where you are.

You can’t leave.

You can’t leave him.

He takes you out sometimes. He’ll blindfold you and make you lie down in the backseat of the car so no one can see you and you have no sense of direction. He always takes you to sweet yet secluded places.

The beach.

The mountains.

Eerily beautiful places that you know could be your last destination on earth. Places where he could push you to your demise or drown you so that your body gets lost at sea.

No one would know, just him.

But so far, it hasn’t come to that. He’s good to you, he is. Kisaki knows how much you love coke, so he gets it for you. He keeps you coked up to the eyeballs and sometimes you feel like a whore.

Maybe because that’s exactly what you are.

You fuck him as thanks for your coke.

You’re a coke whore.

“I love you.” you whisper, feebly, with an award winning smile after snorting a line. He grabs your face in one hand, puckering your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. Kisaki looks so serious, always. His eyebrows and constantly at a scowl and you think he has to force himself to rectify that about himself.

But he doesn’t while he looks at you.

At your lips.

He looks between your eyes and your plump, inviting lips until he can’t resist you anymore. He tilts his head and his lips meet with yours.

“I love you when you’re high.” he smiles, muttering words between kisses.

And you laugh, kissing him back so sweetly.

“I love you when I’m high.”

And just like that, you’re weightless. He picks you up by your thighs, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He drops you down roughly onto the dining table. His body weight on top of your is intoxicating. The way he kisses and alternates to nibbling your lower lip while he tries to undress all at once is dizzying.

You watch him as he throws his shirt across the room and he starts to work at his belt.

“Arms up.” he instructs, and you obey. You hold your arms above your head together, knowing full well what he’s about to do. “Such a good little whore, aren’t you? Do anything for me and your habit.” he laughs.

You giggle at him, he likes it when you entertain how mean he can be to you. You’ll accept anything he wants to do to you, because if you don’t you know he can cut you off.

So of course you don’t mind that he wants to bind you with his belt, your wrists restricted and trapped by the leg of the dining table.

You watch him carefully as he circles back around you, climbing on top of you and studying your body beneath him. He grabs two fistfuls of your little vest and rips it apart with ease. Your breasts exposed to the chill in the air and bouncing freely. He cups one, fondling the nipple and almost salivating at your bare flesh.

It seems he wants to suck them, but for whatever reason he’s holding himself back.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” he demands.

“Mmpf, Tetta I’m— ‘m so wet. Please, I need you. M-My panties are—”

“What?” he smirks, “Your panties are what?”

You look away, feeling shy. A rush of heat flocks to your face and you can’t help but squirm under his stare. He hooks his fingers into your shorts and yanks them down in one fell swoop. He can’t stop smiling at the way your legs are wriggling and writhing against the table.

It’s him.

What he does to you is unspeakable.

You can’t decide if you want your legs open or closed. So he just watches in fascination as you try to decide. Though eventually it grows tiresome for him. When your legs are open, he keeps them open. Slapping your inner thighs near your pussy and strictly instructing that you keep them open. He runs a line over the fabric between your pussy lips from your sopping hole up to your clit.

“Oh you little slut. You are fuckin’ soaked.” he speaks, his eyes filled with lustrous malice. He puts his head between your thighs after moving your panties into the crease of your thigh. He repeats what he had done with his finger but with his tongue, and you can’t help but shudder and moan, clamping your thighs around his head. “Oh, no, babe. Your treat was the coke. This pussy is for me. You’re gonna give me a treat now.” he reminds you.

He frees his thick cock and lines it up with your dripping slot. Fresh tears roll down your eyes as he slowly plunges inside of you. It’s good…

It’s good.

It’s so fucking good.

“Dirty coke whore aren’t ya?” he laughs, thrusting in and out of you at a hurried pace. “Say thank you, right fuckin’ now, say ‘thank you, daddy.’”

“Mmpf, thank you! T-Thank you, daddy!” you wail, biting your lip over and over between moans as he ploughs inside of you. Your head is moved quickly to the side. It takes you a moment to register what happened until you feel the familiar sting of his striking palm.

“Stupid cock drunk girl,” he grins, “What are you even thankin’ me for? Do you know, baby? Use that cute li’l head of yours to think about it.”

“I— I— f-for letting me stay here… w-with you!” you tell him. He smiles, raising his eyebrows as if he’s looking for more. “Thank you for the coke, daddy! I love you! I l-love you s’much!” you sob, almost screaming through how perfectly he’s ruining your precious cunt.

“What else? C’mon, gorgeous, you’re happy right now because of daddy, yeah? So say thank you.” he commands. His cock throbs aggressively and the sight of the little gulp you just took slithering down your tiny throat.

“Thank you for fucking me! I love your cock, daddy, I do! T-Thank you for giving it to me!” you explain.

He grunts at that, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he humps into you, moving you further and further up the dining table. You can see a prominent vein bulging in his forehead as he fucks you with a vengeance.

“So tight, so fuckin’ tight baby.” he tells you. “Cumming soon, yeah? Can feel how close you are.”

“Can I, daddy? Can I p-please cum f-for you?” you groan, desperately.

“Yes, baby,” he nods, “Cum on daddy’s cock.”

You only wish you could cling onto him while you unfurl around him. You wish that you could rake your fingers down his back and break the skin. It’s a desperate need as you keep cumming and cumming for him. There’s no way to steel yourself. You have nothing to grab onto to ground yourself and keep you on earth with him. You are in ecstasy, moaning and clamping around him as you get through your high.

And once you finally finish, he can’t help but watch you in awe. The way the aftershocks wrack through your body and you’re spasming on his cock. He pounds you with every single bit of body weight he has behind it, flooding your walls with his white and creamy cum.

He kisses between your breasts and sucks on your tits while he spurts load after load of himself into you, not wanting to waste a drop of his essence. It belongs inside of you.

He belongs inside of you.

When he eventually pulls out, his cum can’t help but throb out of you. With each pulse of your aching pussy, his sperm is forced out. He fingers it back inside, lovingly, rubbing his thumb over your clit at the same time.

“Mine.” he tells you, eyes focused on yours.

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

“I cum in this whenever I want, so it’s mine. And you are mine.”

“Yours, daddy, always.”

“Do you love me?” he queries.

“I love you.”

“Do you want to leave me?”

“No, daddy, I’ll never leave you.”

He smirks at that.

You say it like you have a choice.

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serickswrites · 3 months

Text

"I'm Fine."

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, bloody nose, bruises, rescue

Caretaker quickly made their way through the abandoned warehouse. Whumper had said that they taken Whumpee here. That they tortured Whumpee here. And that they left Whumpee to die here.

Caretaker prayed they weren't too late.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker called, hoping beyond hope that Whumpee could hear them. No sound came. "Come on, Whumpee. I'm here. I'm here. Please, say something."

Caretaker rounded the corner and gave a gasp. "Whumpee!"

Whumpee was slumped over in the chair they were bound to. Blood coated their shirt, parts of the chair, and had dripped onto the floor in places. Whumpee moaned at the sound of Caretaker rushing forward.

"Whumpee! Say something. Talk to me, Whumpee."

"Caretakerrrr," Whumpee croaked. They lifted their head weakly and blinked up at Caretaker. Their face was swollen and bruised, blood dripping in a steady stream from their nose. "'m finnnnnne."

"You are definitely not fine. But I'm here. I've got you. Let's get you out of here."

Whumpee nodded and let their head drop. "'ump'r?"

"Handled." Caretaker quickly began to saw through the thick coils of rope at Whumpee's ankles. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you, Whumpee."

"'s'kay," Whumpee's voice was barely audible.

Caretaker looked up at Whumpee. Whumpee's face was ghostly pale, and they blinked slowly, their eyes beginning to roll back as they stared down at Caretaker. "None of that, Whumpee," Caretaker tapped Whumpee's cheek as they rose up and began to saw at the ropes on Whumpee's wrists. "None of that. You stay awake and with me, you here? Whumpee!"

"'m 'wakkkkke," Whumpee hissed as they gritted their teeth, fighting unconsciousness. "So.....so tireddddd."

"I know you are, Whumpee. But you have to stay awake. You have to stay awake until I can get you to help. Ok?"

Whumpee nodded, as they swallowed hard. "Stay'ng."

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw restraints #tw torture #tw blood #tw bloody nose #tw bruises #rescue #whumpuary #whumpuary2024 #day 25/26 #prompt: barely conscious #prompt: left for dead #prompt: “I'm fine”#queue

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anlian-aishang · 9 months

Text

[sub!levi x reader, smut, restraints, choking // 700 words]

Levi whines so weakly - it puts his title of humanity's strongest to shame.

Levi moans so miserably - neighbors temporarily mistake which one of you is making all that noise.

Levi curses so consistently - his day-to-day language is a lullaby in contrast.

Levi screams so sharply - you question if this sex is more pain than pleasure.

Even as his spouse of so many years, you were shocked at the sight - the sound - of him tonight. Your heart was overwhelmed by the adrenaline rush of witnessing Levi the way he was now: compassionate concern with his strained outbursts, sadistic annoyance at his bitchy mewls, a surging confidence knowing that your sex could bring him to this end. With each pitch and acceleration in his voice, Levi forced a contradictory cocktail of arousal and aggravation down your throat - culminating in its tightening. An internal struggle between a-are you okay and shut up slut - you know you love it rendered you ultimately speechless, the perfect opposite to him.

"Fuck... F-huh-ck me!!" Slender fingers curled around your satin ropes and threatened to rip your ties, but this was not your first time working with bondage.

It was the first time, though, that you cupped your hand around his throat. Watching the veins rise in his neck, you longed to feel their movements under you. Seeing shadows of his tendons make love with moonlight, you longed to project their scene onto your skin. Adam's apple bobbed, pulse fast against your palm - Levi's life in your hands - there was no greater power trip.

At least, you believed that for a few seconds until his voice rose again, "Oh god, oh shit!" Levi writhed in sweat-soaked sheets. Legs stretched. Muscles flexed. Bruises began to bud where your fingertips pressed, but he did not seem to mind. In fact, given the buck of his hips and curve of his cock, he appeared to ascend in your grasp.

His incoherence played evidence to a sky-high headspace. "C'Cum... want to... I can't...!"

Your brows narrowed in total focus, all senses honed in trying to read him: feeling his heat radiate into you, listening to each of his sighs and syllables, seeing his struggle. Come on. Spit it out, Levi. What do you want, baby?

And despite how noisy he had been all night, it was his eye contact that communicated most in the end. Steel irises endeavored to peek past his eyelids squeezed shut. In them, an ounce of calm in meeting your gaze, glazed over by the climax of pre-orgasmic strife. Trembling lips and vulnerability's look worked together to convey, Please - Please let me cum!

It was admittedly inadvertent then - how your motions quickly morphed into the ones that would get him there. Your generosity - merciful or accidental - beckoned immediate thanks from the man below you. A white-knuckle grip of your curves, crescent fingernails dug into them. As his eyes rolled back, he likewise released his reins: succumbing into pleasure - screaming with the waves of it.

He never did arrive at an adjective, but your ego swelled at the thought: you were beyond words.

"Oh fuck! Shit... Shit!" Levi's hips begin to spasm, nearly throwing you off of him. In that way, the orgasm itself continued to test him, as breaking from your contact was the last thing he wanted. Fists clenched in ironed bedding, leaving sinful folds, as he attempted to subdue his spasms. Teeth grit, swears snuck through, "F'Fuck... Feels so - you feel so - !!"

As his breaths slowed to standard, as his tone came back to earth, and as his skin dimmed from bright red to pink blush to warm white, the Levi Ackerman that everyone knows reinhabited the figure beneath you - so recently fucked out beyond words, now too humiliated for them. Atoning for his shameless other side, he gazed up to you - pleading once again. This time, not for his release, but for your restraint. In response, your reassurance rained down with a silent smile: his secrets were safe with you.

// masterlist //

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #smut #headcanon #2023 #anlian writes #my writing #alias's #salt and pepper #choking tw #tw choking #jesus christ anlian take a suppressant #restraints tw #tw restraints

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