#TW for noncon being mentioned somewhat | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderenightmare · 4 months

Text

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats

fem reader

Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.

It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.

Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.

That and not having to deal with the royal family.

You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.

You still remember the last one they’d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.

You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.

You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.

You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold.

None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.

Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.

You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.

You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.

Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.

Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.

Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.

He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.

You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.

But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”

Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.

“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your majesty?” You questioned.

“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”

You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together.

Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking.

You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.

You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.

He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.

You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.

You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.

You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.

He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.

He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.

He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.

He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.

You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.

You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.

“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.

Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.

“Take it off.” He interrupted.

You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.

“Your majesty?”

“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”

Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”

“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.

You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.

You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.

“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.

You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.

“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.

He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.

He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.

Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.

Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.

“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”

You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving.

“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”

Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.

“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.”

One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served.

“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”

You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”

You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.

Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.

“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”

He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.

Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.

“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.

You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.

“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”

He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.

Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.

You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.

He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.”

His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.

“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.”

Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist.

“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.

Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.

“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.

Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.

“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”

You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.

“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end.

Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips.

“Open wide, slave- here it comes-”

Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting.

“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”

With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.

“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.

Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.

“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa

BLLK – Reo

DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut #yandere csm #yandere aot

2K notes · View notes

squishablesunbeam · 11 months

Text

Consequence of Action Pt.2

Continuation of the first piece from Collins' perspective. It's a mellow reprieve before the next chapter... which will be a rough one so heads up!

TW: Aftermath of noncon, mentions of noncon, captive whumpee, caged whumpee, mentions of war

Prev - Next

Collins took his glasses off and set them down quietly, rubbing his eyes until the world blurred around him. He looked over at the bed and sighed wearily, idly grinding his teeth.

He'd felt Quinn's eyes on him for a lot longer than he himself would have lasted being as exhausted as he was. Eventually though, his breathing became less painfully rapid and had leveled out to a somewhat normal rhythm.

He was asleep.

Mercifully.

Collins pressed a hand against his own chest, frowning at the ache that had settled in ever since he'd said yes to the Captain's offer.

He didn't want anything to do with this mess.

The mutiny was foolish. Well-intentioned, sure, but foolish nonetheless. Collins held no delusions about the nature of the man that led this crew. The Captain was cruel and cunning. He was a man that won wars and the old generals loved him for it. But they hadn't been at war for many years now and that only made men like the Captain even more unpredictable.

Rumor has it, the Captain was given a ship after being quietly asked to leave the service for reasons he could only imagine. He had served with many of the crew already on board when he was looking for a new captain, so he'd signed up without much thought. He swore his loyalty to his captain and the crew and felt like he had a home again. Most of those good people were dead now.

It disturbed him deeply that he must have been considered to be a true follower of the Captain instead of one that stood slightly apart. He'd often wondered what it was about him, why Murphy and the others didn't come to him before they pulled the trigger on this foolishness.

He would have helped.

Well, he would have at least told him that his plan wouldn't succeed. Collins was loyal to a fault. He knew that. Still, this was- he wasn't like that. He took no pleasure in this.

Just the thought alone turned his stomach, seeing Quinn today, like he was...

He huffed out a frustrated breath and stood, pacing in the small space.

He remembered Quinn, from before. The few occasions he'd had to speak with the communications officer were swift and practical. He remembered the man being intelligent and quick to think on his feet. He knew his job and the jobs of his superiors, tailoring his tasks in such a way that made their work easier, more efficient. He was an asset to the crew, until he became a threat.

Collins stopped pacing, looking down at the curled up form beneath the blanket, only a tuft of brown hair peeking out from underneath.

He clenched his hands into fists thinking about what he would see if he pulled that blanket back, the many bruises and abrasions that littered the man's body. He couldn't unsee them. The shape of large hands on his hips and arms, of fingers around his neck, deep abrasions on his wrists and ankles from however the others choose to restrain him while they took their own pleasure. He'd heard the stories.

He couldn't stop this. It wasn't his place.

Collins turned away from him, dragging his fingers up into his hair.

Quinn made his choice. He knew the risks. The consequences.

Well, maybe not this. He probably thought he would be sent out the airlock with the rest of them. This fate was- excessive, to say the least. The Captain had already taken this beyond anything anyone would call justice, and he wasn't done yet, not even close.

He'll break him. The Captain will break Quinn into pliant little pieces. He'll use him until there was nothing left for him to be entertained by. And only then, will Quinn find any peace.

He turned back to the bed, chewing absently on his lip.

Peace.

He could do that. He couldn't save Quinn, but he could give him some measure of peace at least. A warm bed, like tonight. A proper meal and a shower when he could. Clean clothes even.

He turned to root through his small closet. Nothing would fit him, not even close. Quinn was already on the slight side before weeks of meager meals, all lean muscle and just a hint of softness to his middle.

Collins shook his head hard, shaking the thoughts out of his mind.

He refused to allow himself to think of Quinn that way, not anymore. Not now.

He'll admit to seeing him in the workout room a time or two. He was often on the treadmill when Collins arrived and was still running without losing a single step by the time Collins finished his routine. He remembers watching him from the corner of his eye sometimes, with those small earbuds nestled in his ears, listening to music and occasionally mouthing the words. He seemed to genuinely love to run.

That tiny spark flickered in his chest for a quick moment as he looked over at Quinn before he very intentionally smothered it out until it was nothing but dying embers.

His heart broke for what this man had been reduced to.

A slave. Nothing but a toy to be played with and stuffed back into a cage.

Collins drew in a deep breath and pulled out a pair of sweatpants with a draw string. Maybe these would work?

He gently laid them at the foot of the bed, along with a too large t-shirt.

He groaned as he moved to sit on the floor, leaning his back against the bed. He was exhausted after his 12 hours shift, and then all this, but he didn't want Quinn to wake up in the night to find a strange man sleeping in the bed next to him. Collins knew he'd had much worse over the many weeks he'd been held captive by his fellow crew members.

Still.

He didn't want to frighten him.

He leaned his head back against the mattress and closed his eyes, resolving to help Quinn where he was able. It was the very least he could do.

–

He woke with a start, his head coming up off the mattress far too fast and his vision struggled to keep up with the abrupt change. Collins blinked a few times, remembering why he was still propped against the mattress, sitting on the floor.

He glanced up to the bed.

Still there. Obviously.

It looked as if Quinn hadn't moved an inch in the few hours they must have slept.

Still. Something had woken him.

Collins stifled a groan as his knees popped, standing up stiffly.

He stood quietly over the curled up form on the bed, watching Quinn's breathing carefully. In and out. Slow and steady.

His eyebrows drew down, a frown creasing his face.

Collins leaned forward and gently pulled the blanket down, revealing a flash of two wide open eyes before Quinn dropped his gaze. His breathing starting to speed up exponentially now that he knew Collins knew he was awake.

“Morning.”

Collins let the blanket drop back to where it was, covering all of Quinn's face again. He'd allow the man to choose whether or not he wanted to be awake yet.

He went about brewing some coffee on the small counter by the sink, pulling down two mugs. He paused, his hands hovering over the mugs. Sugar? He took his coffee black but maybe Quinn liked sugar in his, or cream.

He didn't have cream.

He turned back to the bed. Three fingers had pulled the blanket down just enough to reveal two tired brown eyes, watching him silently.

“You're fine,” Collins grunted out. Damn it. He tried to soften his tone.

“What I mean to say is there's no rush. My shift isn't for another hour. Um,” why did he feel like he was trying to speak around rocks, “Do you take cream? In your coffee I mean?”

He watched two eyebrows found each other in between his eyes before smoothing out again.

Collins pointed to the clothes on the foot of the bed.

“Feel free to put those on and, yeah, I'll be right back.”

Collins rushed out of the room and closed the door, huffing out a long breath before heading to the mess hall.

–

10 minutes later and Collins had frozen with his fist paused an inch from the door. The door to his own quarters. Should he knock?

He made a sound deep in his throat that sounded like a growl. This was ridiculous.

He knocked lightly but didn't wait for an answer, opening the door and coming inside, his eyes immediately falling on Quinn.

Quinn was sitting back against the headboards with his knees up and his arms curled tight around himself. He was practically swimming the too big clothing but he looked more like himself at least. With the exception of the collar sitting at the base of his throat.

Collins lifted the tray he had in his hands.

“Eat whatever you like,” he placed the tray on the bed within reach and pointed to the coffee maker that was sputtering away, “Cream or sugar in your coffee?”

Quinn blinked silently but then nodded once.

Collins turned to get the coffee and smiled, making a mental note to keep cream in the small refrigerator under the counter, his shoulders starting to relax.

He sat at the table, Quinn still perched on the bed, and watched him take small, careful bites out of a bagel. He had to bury a smile every time Quinn took a sip of coffee, his eyes fluttering closed at the taste.

They sat in somewhat companionable silence. Collins honestly didn't know what to say and Quinn hadn't breathed a word.

He actually startled when suddenly, “Thank you,” Quinn breathed out on a whisper between bites.

Collins tilted his head down in a brief nod, “You're welcome, Quinn.”

Quinn's eyes flicked up sharply, meeting his own, before dropping back down again.

They walked back to below deck together, down the dark hall and through the heavy door. The room was dark save for the low blue light that ran along the floor of every wall on the ship. Collins hadn't been down here since the mutiny. He didn't know what to expect.

Quinn walked straight to the small cage, bolted to the floor in the center of the room. He never looked up or tried to shy away as he removed the shirt, and then the pants to Collins' surprise. He folded them neatly and turned towards Collins who had frozen in place.

“They wont let me keep these,” he said, placing the clothes in his hands, his eyes boldly meeting Collins' now, as if there was a measure of confidence necessary to strip naked in front of a man who, not 8 hours ago, saw him spread wide for all to see, “I don't know why you... just, thank you.”

With that, he turned and crawled gingerly into the cage. Collins clenched his jaw shut tight as he watched Quinn maneuver his body very carefully. He realized that the floor to the cage was made out of the grates they lay over the ramps in the winter. The ones with the teeth that grip the bottoms of your boots to keep you from slipping.

This was a torture in its own right; and explained the marks dug into his hips and shoulders that never seemed to quite fade.

He watched Quinn thread his fingers through the bars and close the door himself.

“You'll have to lock it.”

“Right,” Collins shook himself and knelt down, swallowing back the revulsion that was twisting up his throat as he secured the lock in place.

He stood and turned, walking out the door and immediately regretted not saying more. Not doing more.

He was a coward.

Taglist: @peachy-panic, @ladygwennn

#a little exposition from Collins side of things #whump #captive whump #captivity #reference to noncon #aftermath of noncon #caged whumpee #caged #torture #whumpee and caretaker #mentions of war

76 notes · View notes

inkblot22 · 5 months

Text

The Clasping Jaws Of Conjoinment

Well. It was bound to happen one day. I was bound to project my derangement onto my bae character. I am currently in Chapter 6 and while this does not have any spoilers it does confirm my previously held belief that Idia is not some sweet, soft boy, and is, in fact, a huge asshole. Anyway, onto the degeneracy. A certain concept in this fic was made by the author of ensorcelled. I absolutely love this fic please give it a read if you like pwp. Also! This is dedicated to @mermaidfan76. If you want me to untag you, I can do so, just let me know. This is part five of Pants on Fire.

This fic is aimed towards mostly afab readers or gender neutral readers. Although no explicit mention of body parts (other than Idia's) is made, there is still a certain implication that will be made if this ends up getting a part five. If you're okay with that, I hope you enjoy!

TW for heavy dubcon PLEASE don't read if you're upset by coercion, noncon, ignored request for contraception, captivity, abusive relationship dynamics, Idia being a huge pervert, fetishization of virginity, talk of virginity (it's very brief,) Virgin! Reader, allusions to electric shocks

Real talk, if anyone in your circle hits you with anything that Idia says in the last half of this fic, please register that as a HUGE red flag. It's fun and whatever here because you can click away from this fic, but you cannot click away from real life. Practice safe sex and self-respect folx.

The time has somewhat blended together. All you know is the present, and presently, you’re sitting in Idia’s lap, with Ortho out, again. It feels like he’s always out.

Ever since Idia knocked you out via triggering your collar, you have no choice but to admit that you’re far more inclined to “hang out” with him. It’s a safety thing. If you don’t hang out with him, he gets annoyed… and even though you’ve only really annoyed him to the point of doing something once, you’re smart enough not to put your hand in the dog’s mouth again.

So you’re sitting with him. Honestly it’s very benign, but your back is beginning to hurt and you’re kind of hungry, so you shift a bit and stand up.

“Do you want some cup noodles?” You ask. If you’re going to be stuck here, you may as well make the best of it… and you don’t want to hear Idia complain about you being cold-hearted.

“Nah, I ordered in some stuff. Come sit back down, it’ll be here in a moment.”

So you do. You take a seat on his lap and you are not deaf to the thrilled noise that escapes him. You don’t acknowledge it though.

“So… we’ve been together for a while.” He starts, “Did you know that today is our four month anniversary?”

You didn’t, but you do now. You nod, well aware that you look convincing either way.

“Ah, I’m so lucky that I have such a cute partner.”

Idia is kind of hard to read at the best of times, but right now, attempting to figure him out is the equivalent of reading someone’s Russian grandmother’s cursive handwriting. You give him a blank, wide-eyed stare, and he gives you a toothy smile.

“I’m lucky…” His thumbs slide under the hem of your shirt and he presses his lips against the corner of yours, “So, so lucky…”

“W-wait-” You begin.

Idia cuts you off. You hate it when he does this, “But… I think you could stand to be a bit more affectionate. I mean, I know I’ve got your affection at level three, at least. And I get that you’re like an ahodere character, so I’ll spell it out for you.”

“Aho-”

“Shhh, shh. We should do more couple stuff. I already got us matching pajamas, but we have time now, while Ortho isn’t around…”

You pause before talking, just in case he wasn’t finished, “Idia, I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“Seven, you’re slow. I’m telling you that we should fuck since my little brother won’t be back for a while.”

This time you pause because the air left your lungs when he said that. It’s okay. It gives you time to weigh your options.

If you go along with it, there’s a chance he’ll just leave you alone afterwards. If you don’t go along with it, you’re possibly going to get zapped. You don’t really want to let Idia see you naked, much less allow him inside of you, but… you also would prefer not getting shocked.

When you finally speak, it’s measured, “So… if I go along with this… do you think you’d be okay with taking the collar off of me?”

Idia’s face brightens. He obviously thought you’d outright decline, but he squeezes your waist and taps his nose against yours as he kisses you again, “That sounds sensible. Are you gonna stay put?”

You nod. Idia lets you go and you awkwardly sit on the bed as he stands up, motioning towards your legs. It takes you a second before you realize what he wants. You take off your pants and underwear, watching as he simply reaches a hand in the fly of his sleep pants and frees himself. You have to focus all your energy on not shrieking when he does so.

The head of his cock is a bright, cobalt blue, same as his lips and eyelids. It’s proportional to his height and you jump up to your feet when he wraps a hand around the base and a inky substance oozes from the tip.

“What is that?!” You can’t help yourself.

“Listen, you can’t act surprised that I’m riled up after you’ve been acting all cute and shit. Sit back down.” He snaps.

You obey immediately, for fear of getting shocked, and Idia grabs you. You find it funny, he isn’t exactly traditionally strong, but he still just will manhandle you sometimes. Is it because you actually don’t mind him treating you like a toy? You jump as he shifts you, his cock pressing against your inner thigh. It almost feels like a red-hot poker.

“N-no, wait, hold on. Do you have a condom?” You ask.

“Are you usually this picky when you have sex?”

“You’ve had sex before?”

“Have you?”

You don’t answer. The answer is that you really haven’t. You’ve never even tongue kissed someone. The most experience you’ve had is with toys and your fingers, but you’re not really sure how to explain this. His eyes stare into yours and you think he gets it when he smirks, wide and deranged.

“Wow… I knew I was lucky. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have a good first time with your senpai… whee hee hee…”

He uses his nimble fingers to adjust himself so he’s pressed against your entrance, ignoring your previous plea for a condom, and slowly, slowly eases his manhood into your walls. You have the sense to bite your tongue at the sting, the stretch causing a dull burn in your ring of muscle. Your body isn't used to this type of intrusion.

As he supports you with a hand in the small of your back, his hips begin to slowly pump. Cool air hits your neck where the collar once was, and Idia presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth again. When he pulls away, you can see the pink, peachy tone in his hair and on the apples of his cheeks.

“Ah, I’m so lucky…” He mumbles.

22 notes · View notes

aliveinacoffin · 11 months

Text

Master List

Of the .1 fics that I've written/posted on here

⋆｡°✩ Spider-Verse ⋆｡°✩

( ´ཀ` ) Miguel O'Hara

Lunch Date - PT1 PT2 - Fluff/Implied F!Reader, can be ignored if you squint

↓ All somewhat connected, neither have to be read to know context, though, I would rec to read top first↑

Come Back To bed - PT1 PT2 - Angst little comfort/GN!Raader

A Difference In Fate - F!Reader, angst no comfort,

Coffee for us - GN!Reader, fluff

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ My Hero Academia ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

✩࿐ General

Boyfriend Imagines - Gen!Reader/Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Shouta Aizawa, Denki Kaminari, & Hizashi Yamada - fluff, headcanons, just tooth-rotting fluff :>

ᓚᘏᗢ Aizawa Shouta/EraserHead Hospital - GN!Reader, angst/fluff comfort, TW suicidal talk, and dying) Strawberry Fanta - PT1 Introduction - (Rest On Ao3! Finished) - NSWF!F!Reader, TW yandere, stalking, violence (his name isn't spelled right I don't think? I'm so sorry) Orange Fanta - PT1 - Story and context on Ao3 - NSFW Fem!Reader, TW Yandere, violence, sexual content, dubious consent/noncon Silent Nights Exhibition - No reader, only zawa NSFW: public nudity, gremliness My own mirror - PT1 - PT2 - no reader, 3rd pov TW: Suicidal thoughts, smoking weed, implied abuse, parent death, brief mentions of ED With my whole heart- GN!Reader, angst/little comfort/none, TW: Yandere, violence, mentions of kidnapping, drugging, staking Hating you as well - PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 - F!Reader, little angst/mostly just the sillies - you just wanted to make friends, but one GUY keeps making that impossible for you, it was like he fucking hated you! And for what!!

❆Shoto Todoroki♨

Deja ya de llorar - GN!Reader, tiny angst/major comfort just cute all around

♬♪ Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada

You're Not Just Him - Pregnant!F!Reader - Fluff - You make your husband take a break from work and have a family day with you and the kids.

✰ ✰ ✰ All Might/Toshinori Yagi

Important To You - Toshinori & Daughter!Reader - angst/no comfort TW! Neglect, parental abuse, depressive episode, mentioned eating problems, bullying, and mjc death - Being the daughter of such an important man was already hard, but after he gets deathly ill and the death of his best advisor? Forget about it!

༺｡° .ᘛThe Last Of Us 1&2ᘚ. ° ｡༻

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ellie Williams

Ellie Band Au Headcanons - no reader- nsfw & sfw parts

☀︎ Grand Theft Auto V ☀︎

Wedding Ring - F!Reader- Smut, cursing, manipulation - Michael De Santa has ghosted you for moths, and now he shows up to your house unexpectedly.

My Ao3!

Unfortunately, I do have unfinished works, and new ones in progress, but it's okay because I guilt myself enough for the both of us.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Requests are OPEN! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Won't do: Scat, water sports, puke (in that way, if ya know what I mean lol). Thats kinda it :)

Will do: Pretty much everything else lmao Post dividers by @cafekitsune

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fandoms I can do!

MHA

Undertale

Across The SpiderVerse

Rick and Morty

Grand Theft Auto 5

SouthPark

The Last Of Us&1 (Games 2)

Harry Potter

Adventure Time

The disastrous Life of Saiki K

F is for Family

Mystic Messenger (Though, I will warn you I haven't completed the game 100%, so I'll go off what I know so far/what I've seen from the fandom.)

45 notes · View notes

eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Note

Is Santi even capable of experiencing shame?

TW: Mentions of noncon.

You mean sexual shame?

In specific circumstances, yes. Usually when the scenario goes sour, and he might start to get off on how hard you fight him, only to end up sobbing and cumming hard around him. He'll be somewhat ashamed of the thrill he gets from chasing you and frightening you into fucking him.

He tends to not lean into that feeling too much, for his own well-being, but it's there, lingering. Shame for what he's sunk to again.

#Santi oc

59 notes · View notes

novasdarling · 2 years

Text

Weekend Getaway

Valentine's Day Event

Summary: Romance was never something you associated with your kidnapper, Uvogin. His little weekend trip he had in mind for Valentine's day was defiantly not something you expected from him.

TW: Previous Kidnapping, Noncon Mentioned at the end, Female Reader in Mind, Mentioned Previous Punishments/Torture.

Things hadn’t gotten somewhat easier as Uvogin said they would. He promised that you would get used to being with him, being kept home. It was all supposed to get simpler, but not as much as he said it would. He left a lot, leaving you at home alone. For days, or even weeks at times. Always leaving you enough food. Even setting up suppliers to drop food off when he suspected you were going to run out of. You never saw anyone, yet the food would be there. Waiting for you. It was a mystery you could never figure out how he had everything planned so well. He never seemed like the planning type. Letting others take the reigns on that portion. But you were grateful he did this, especially when he was gone for long. Leaving you enough for a few weeks before the next drop off occurred. You were now mostly alone as the troupe was working more and more. It was nice at first, being alone and doing what you pleased within limits. Unfortunately, your ability to pick a lock didn't progress. Then the times you did get out Uvogin had you once again in his grasp. Not being able to get away from him for more than a day or two. Even when he was supposed to be out for a few more weeks. You stayed confused, oblivious to the cameras Uvo had installed before he moved you in. Courtesy of Shalnark, letting him keep an eye on you when he was out. Ultimately, he realized you tended to show signs before you ran, he noticed it after the first few failed attempts of lock picking. How you tended to analyze the locks more, getting more fidgety than normal. All these little things hinted you were going to run again. Meaning he needed to head home and get you before you got hurt.

You were stuck in the same place every day with no change in scenery. Only getting to see the outside when you ran, that was the only change in view you were permitted. Though after a while, you realized those short vacations weren’t worth the punishments that were waiting for you at home. Now you just sat and waited for him to come back. It got a bit easier as time went on in the sense, that you could live with him. Everytime you saw him you didn't want to yell and scream. And every time he climbed into bed at night with you, it didn't make you break down and cry. The only thing that wasn't easy was seeing the same thing every day. The same walls, the same furniture, the same movies. Nothing changed and it was driving you crazy. You begged him to even take you just outside the door, to let you get a few minutes of sun and fresh air. The answer was always no. The more you begged, the more irritated he seemed to get. Turning to sulking instead of begging. Which also annoyed him. It was clear, you weren’t going anywhere. Even with him, he wasn’t going to take the chance of you getting free and too far from him.

It was another day being locked up, being forced into the company of Uvogin. Luckily all he wished to do today was have you leaned up against him while watching some movies. His hands wandered every so often, yet tended to stay on top of your clothes. The movies were blurring together as you kept falling asleep. Being gently shaken awake by him. Pulling your attention back to the movie. It happened a few times, letting the images change until they bored you enough to go back to sleep. It wasn’t until images of the countryside flashed on the screen that your attention was pulled back fully. Sitting up more, watching the characters fix up an old cabin by a lake. It was so beautiful, reminded you of the one you occasionally went to as a child with your family in the summer. Swimming all day, spending the day running around with your siblings and cousins. It was always fun, something you looked forward to every year. Smiling at the screen must have gotten Uvogin’s attention as he was now staring at you. Watching as your eyes lit up.

“What is it? Like the movie?”

“Yeah, just uh, reminds me of a place I use to go to as a kid. It’s nice.”

“This is the most lively you've been all day.” He squeezed you harder against him in a teasing way.

He laughed then went back to the movie. Once the scene was done and the characters weren’t at the cabin anymore. You fell asleep again when the movie began to get boring. This time it seemed like he let you sleep as you woke up the next morning in bed. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you were met with him packing a bag he had placed on the bed. Confused as to why he was packing so much. He usually took very little for his missions.

“Uvo, you’re already being called back?”

“No, this is for you. That one is for me.” He pointed by the floor near the nightstand. There was another bag by it.

A bag for you? Getting up, making your way to him. Looking into the bag to see some of your clothes. That was confusing, was he taking you somewhere else? Did this place get compromised? You hadn’t run that much and it had been at least two months since your last attempt. Then the thoughts of what else could him packing your bag mean. Did this mean he was letting you go? No, he made it very clear he would never. Stating you were too precious to him. Too sweet to even let you get out of the apartment. Always dragging you right back to punish you for leaving him.

“Uvo, why?”

“We’re taking a trip.” He didn’t even look at you when he spoke. Seeming like he was too occupied packing your things and checking the room to see what he’s missed. “Get dressed and grab your face wash and whatever else you have there in the bathroom.”

Not wanting to press on as he seemed preoccupied with packing, going around the room as he checked to make sure he had everything he wanted. You did as he said, got dressed and grabbed what you needed. Some hair wash, deodorant, face wash and other hygiene items. You weren’t sure where you were going so you grabbed a bit of everything. Giving them to him to pack away. He didn’t let you help, or even hint of what he was doing and how you could help. Instead, sitting you on the bed and letting you watch him pack. Once he was done, he grabbed the bags and helped you up by your arm. Forcing you to follow him to the front door. He stopped before unlocking the numerous locks. Turning to face you. Staring you up and down before speaking.

“Before I open this door let’s go over some things.” You knew he was going to go over some rules. Always placing rules for you. “When I open this door and we step out, no leaving my side. If you get too far from me I will grab you and take you back. I will tie you to the bed and leave you there for days. Understand?”

The idea of being left there for days made you shiver. The days he had left you tied to that bed, in the beginning, was brutal. Mainly because he left you isolated. Let you wet yourself on the bed, embarrassed you about the mess you made the few times he did come in. It was hell, the memory of the embarrassment you felt all those days kept you in line. Nodding you let him know you understood and would comply.

“Good girl.”

He patted your head and began unlocking the door. Heading out with you right on his tail. Watching as he locked all the locks again before following him head off. You wanted to stay and enjoy the sun and fresh air for a bit. Just let your skin absorb the light. Feel the warmth of the sun, but he kept walking. Not giving you any time to stop and enjoy yourself.

Looking around you weren’t sure where he was leading you, not having been out in so long. The last time you got out, you weren’t sure which way you had gone. All you remembered was running straight out and into the deserted street. Following him around the house, to the other side where a gravel driveway was with a car on it. You had never heard Uvogin come home in a car. No screech for a stop, no engine sounds. It was odd, but perhaps he usually parks it farther. Probably to keep you from seeing it out the cracks in the windows and getting any ideas.

Uvogin unlocked the passenger side car door, allowing you to get in. Slamming it shut once you were seated. He was unnecessarily rough with everything. Breaking several plates by simply putting them down on the counter. Even cracking the bedroom door from slamming it too hard when was excited about you agreeing to sex. Seems like he didn’t know how to control his own strength. Obvious by the bruises on you and broken objects in the house. He finished throwing the bags into the trunk and got in the driver seat.

“Where are we even going?”

“Now, now you’re not going to make me ruin the surprise. If you do, we’re going right back inside.”

You had finally just gotten out and refused to go back so soon. You apologized, promising you'll stop prying. He always did enjoy teasing you. Enjoying you squirm and plead with him. To him, it was all a game.

Watching as the trees passed by as the car went down the path. All there were, were trees, a deserted road and empty buildings. It took a while till you saw something that had movement happening. It appeared to be farms. Seeing animals and a moving tractor way off from the road. It was beautiful, if only he let you out. Then you could actually enjoy that stupid place. Perhaps even have a garden to keep you busy while he was gone. Just the thought of it brought a smile to your face. The image of the garden, you tending to it. Then the ideas of what you would grow. Flowers or vegetables? You could always do a bit of both. Some wildflowers would be nice, attract some bees-

“What are you thinking about?” Uvogin was switching between watching the road and you. Looking over at him you couldn’t help, but smile. He looked funny in the car. Barely fitting, then again he was a large guy. Hardly fits anywhere.

“Just admiring the view. Didn’t know the house had such a pretty place nearby. I always liked cows, think they look a bit funny." Ut was true, the place you saw outside the window looked nice. Even the back of the house where the car was, was kind of pretty. "Would be nice to be able to go out more” You mumbled the last part to yourself.

He was silent, didn’t say anything back for a while. Just nodded and stared at the road. Your mind continued to think about the never to be garden.

“Well, maybe if you’re good on this little trip and a bit after. I’ll think about it.”

The smile on your face only grew, you couldn’t take what he said for certain as Uvogin tended to stretch his promises to get you to comply. You just nodded and thanked him. Promising him you would be good.

The ride went into the night, eventually, you just couldn’t fight sleep. Trying to find the most comfortable position you could in a car driving on mostly dirt roads. The image of your make-believe garden flooded your dreams. Gardens around the house. A nice big one for just vegetables. Tomatoes, potatoes, green beans and a lot more. Even a few fruit trees, an orange one. Even a nice tall cherry tree. Then there were scattered flower gardens. You always loved bleeding hearts. Your grandma had some in her garden when you were a kid. The new plants would look funny and out of place near a bunch of abandoned buildings, but the house was far enough back perhaps no one would see them. You know Uvogin won't allow you to do anything that attracted attention to the house.

The slam of the car door woke you from your dream. Your eyesight was blurry. Trying to wipe the sleep out of them, all you could make out was a figure walking in front of the car lights. It was so dark out now. Sitting up and looking out the window. Trying to see anything you could. Trees, a lot of them though these were different from the ones near the place you were staying at. These looked like pines, but it was too hard to be sure. If they were that meant you two were more up North. Looking towards the driver’s seat expecting to see Uvogin to ask him where you two were, but he wasn’t there. Seeing the figure again outside in the lights, it was huge and coming towards you. That must be him. An odd form of relief washed over you seeing him coming towards you. Knowing he was close by made you feel warm. A feeling you would never admit to him. He opened your door, sticking out his arm to help you out. Though instead of walking, you were swept up in his arms. You were still so sleepy that there was no use in fighting. Leaning against his chest and trying to keep your eyes open. Uvogin decided against keeping you awake, letting you fall asleep on him, and then placing you on the bed. Undressing you to change you to some pyjamas. He couldn’t help to let his hands roam about your naked form. Squeezing the plump skin under him. He decided to stop while he still had some self-control, he threw on one of his large shirts you slept in and placed you in bed. He still needed to finish checking the house and grounds. Locking what needs to in order to keep you safe and by him. He knew that you had lost track of time. He never told you what day or month it was unless it slipped out. You stopped asking a while ago. Meaning you didn’t notice what was this week was. Uvo was never a romantic, finding it useless and rather stupid. However, you seemed so bored and restless back home. Uvogin wasn’t an idiot, he watched on the cameras when he was away how your attitude changed when he was gone. Bored and antsy. This week was both a treat and a pick-me-up for you. Yet, also a little test to see if your running away was out of your system. He would lay in bed with you soon, once everything was up to his standard.

The next morning he got up before you, going over the grounds once again before making his way to the kitchen. Allowing you to wake up on your own. He was anxious to see how you would like the place. It was the only place he could find on such short notice. Searching around to find a place that had a cabin on a lake. One that was far enough from anyone else in case you didn’t have running away out of your system. Luckily Nobunaga had a job and his victim had a cabin on the lake. It was an easy cleanup.

It wasn’t long before you woke up. You sat up confused, looking around at a different room than the one you woke up to every day. The memories of what happened the night before came to your mind. Uvogin had taken you to a new place. It didn’t seem permanent as he only packed a bag for both of you. Speaking of which, where was he? Looking around, the room was empty, but for you and the bed. Along with a small dresser with a mirror. There was a closet door and one that had light shining out from under. Figuring that must be the one that leads to the hallway. Opening the door you proceeded out with caution. Still unsure where you were and why. The fear that he would be out there finishing up "work" crossed your mind.

The hallways were short, wood walls with a few pictures of landscapes. Just like the cabin you had a kid. Very classic cottage décor, it was nice to see it again. A few doors by the one you exited from. Probably a bathroom, a hallway closet, maybe another bedroom. You came to the kitchen. It was small with painted green cabinets and well lit with a huge window overlooking a body of water. It looked too small to be a lake, or at least not like the lakes that were around your old home town. Moving closer to the window to admire the view better. The light shimmered off the lake. There was a dock there, with a path attaching the cabin to it. The sun was out and the water look so appealing. There was no sign of Uvogin, you could just go out and sit on the dock. He would understand if he caught you. You wouldn’t run, that was useless. You’ve learned your lesson. You stood there staring out the window, wondering if the idea of going out was worth it, but before you could even decide Uvogin was behind you. Before you could turn around two large arms wrapped around your waist.

“Like it?” He paused, waiting for your answer. When you didn’t answer, he gestured out the window. “Like the view with the lake and trees and the other…stuff.”

You laughed and admitted that it was all so nice. Stating the view was perfect. It was obvious that nature wasn’t as appealing to him as it was to you. He didn’t get the beauty that was outside the window. The freedom that was sealed from you by a thin layer of glass. Uvogin could go out anytime he pleased. He could go swimming, feeling the water on his skin. Having the sun shining down on his face. The wind blowing through his hair. All these little things that made outside so amazing, he didn’t even care for. A waste on him. If you thought too much about it, it would only make you mad.

“It’s beautiful. Reminds me of my old cottage.” He hummed in response to your comment. Both of you still stared outside. “I miss the feeling of swimming or even laying out in the sun.” He stiffened against you before relaxing.

“Well then, how about we go out.”

You turned around shocked by his sudden change. You weren’t allowed out, he made that very clear. Being outside meant you were running away. Him letting you out to get into the car and then here was the first time you had been out with permission. His sudden shift with the rules was confusing. Your mind raced through the explanations. A test? A cruel joke? Why were you going outside abruptly an option?

“Please don’t-don’t joke about this.”

“I’m not. Let’s go out.” He leaned in and placed a kiss by your ear before whispering. “It’s just me and you for a lot of miles so don’t expect anyone to help.” He patted you on the shoulder before making his way towards the door. Opening the door and holding it for you. You wanted to be happy. The idea of being out somewhere so pretty, to run around, have fresh air. Things you longed for, for so long. Slowly making your way towards the door. Keeping your eyes on him. Trying to figure out what was going on. Once you got close to him you paused. Looking out at the yard and the lake. For some reason, you just couldn’t bring yourself to step out. The memory of all those punishments from before echoed in your mind. It took Uvogin to push you out the door. Keeping his hand on your lower back as you two walked out. The first step was odd, he didn’t let you put on shoes. The feeling of the deck on your bare feet was odd, the wood was warm from being in the sun at all times. The light was so harsh on your eyes. Sure you looked out the window and had some at the house, but you hadn’t been out indirect light since. As you continued to walk, mostly due to being pushed. Trying to enjoy every little thing you could. Though that was getting difficult as Uvogin was pushing you towards the lake.

“Where are we-”

“To the lake, I have something set up.”

Dragging you onto the grass, then to the path. The stones hurt your feet, he looked down and saw you wince. He picked you up bridal style caring you further. Past the path, onto the grass heading towards a tall weeping willow by the lake. You always loved those trees. Creating shade and a perfect view. As you got closer you could see a blanket spread out and a basket with something in it. Placing you down on the blanket while he took a seat next to you. Looking out onto the lake. He was right you couldn’t see any other cottages or docks on the lake. It was just you guys. The lake was small enough you could see from one end to the other clearly, but large enough that you were certain you couldn’t swim from one end to the other without getting tired or a cramp. And you hadn't survived with Uvogin all this time just to drown somewhere so pretty.

“It’s beautiful.” Your eyes were locked on the lake. Uvogin turned to look at you. “Why are we here? Are we staying here?”

“Just for a week or so. Thought you’d like to get away.”

“I like it, a lot.” This sudden trip still didn’t add up. “Why-why, uh take me here?”

Finally breaking your stare away from the lake. Now looking at him, waiting for an answer. He was looking awkward, sitting as if there wasn’t enough room even though you two were outside with no obstacles besides the tree to lean on.

“The movie. You said it reminded you of the place you went to as a kid.”

His words stunned you, eyebrows knitted in confusion. The idea that he would remember you paying a bit more attention to one of the stupid movies he put on. Usually, he kept your relationship with him on his terms. What he wanted, he typically got. If he decided to do something for you, it was generally small. Nothing like this. The idea that Uvogin was suddenly making romantic gestures. Making a note of what you liked. This all wasn't him.

“Is this place nice? Like the one from when you were a kid?”

His tone was different. Uvogin was always so sure of himself and his voice symbolized that. But now, he sounded so different. As if he was nervous, waiting for and wanting your approval. You couldn’t explain this feeling, he was being unnaturally thoughtful.

“Yes, it is.” You couldn’t help the smile that crept on your face.

“Good. Guess I’m pretty good with this romance crap.” Uvogin stretched out and leaned against the tree. “Looks like I won Valentine’s day.”

It was Valentine’s day? How? Had you been gone that long? The confusing part was that a man like him seemed to care about such a romantic holiday. Romance and Uvogin never struck you as something that could mix, or at least not like this. You could have never guessed that a man who had kidnapped you, kept you locked away and punished you when you ran. Would take you out to a cabin because you mentioned you had one as a child. You thought you knew everything about him, knew how he would react to things. How he would behave if you acted a certain way. Yet this, this proved that there was still more to him you didn’t know. That perhaps, he wasn’t just a cruel beast.

“Yes, yes you did.” Moving to lean against him. Cuddling into him. As much as you wanted to hate him, you just couldn’t right now. Not while the view was so beautiful and being outside was what you had wanted for so long.

Both of you just laid there for a while. Looking out at the lake and sharing small talk. You were in the arms of a man who had killed and enjoyed it. Who had kidnapped you, forced intimate moments on you, tortured you. Yet, you were here, laying in his arms and feeling content.

Ko-fi (tips if you wanna)

393 notes · View notes

father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

happy 200! i’m so glad to see your blog grow, it’s one of my favorites and i adore all your writing. i’ve never cried so much and i love the kind of unsettling feeling you write in your fics, it’s perfect in the category of yandere and dark content. in particular, i loved your drabble about shigaraki mourning over a dead reader and i’ve reread that one too many times to count haha! as for asks for headcannons and drabbles, it would be amazing to see that with bully!eren especially since he was such an awful person to the reader. i’d love to see him suffer honestly, but if you don’t want to write it, that’s completely fine! once again, i’m so proud of you for hitting 200! that’s such a huge milestone and hopefully, there will be many more in the future! :)

SYNOPSIS: bully!Eren has to navigate the world without you.

Pairing: Bully!Eren x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even explain in words how much I CHEESED at this message like my grin was ear to ear. can't explain how many times I read this. It singlehandedly made my day anon, and to repay you for my happiness....here is some angst. this is a slightly different route than the shiggy one but I hope it still suits you <3

TW: mentions of death, past dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, bullying, alcohol addiction, drunk driving, abusive behavior, revenge porn, nonconsensual photography/videography, mentions of infidelity, angst, so much of angst, violent behavior

WC: 2.5k

It's not like Eren had been doing a lot of soul-searching. He's not delusional enough to label his half-assed epiphany of "maybe I'm a shitty person" as soul searching.

It's just the conversation with his very sick mother burned holes through the back of his mind. Carla had asked about you and why you don't come by the house anymore. How she missed baking with you in the kitchen, and how you sweetly smiled whenever you would see soft creamy peaks form in the meringue.

Eren felt like he was swallowing needles as he assured his mother with false truths, that nothing was going on and distance between childhood friends is natural, and if it means so much--ok ok he'll bring you over.

He stays until he sees her chest slowly rising and falling into a gentle asleep. He touches the tip of his ears, unsurprised by how hot it was.

Eren, when you tell a lie, the tips of your ears turn red.

You're not at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Guilt is not an emotion he feels often but the events of the past weekend replay in his mind. It was just a dumb party that Floch threw, and he was surprised to find you cornered by a trio of thee dunderheads. Like a distorted fairytale, he swept you away from the bad guys like a knight in shining armor, to only shove you in an empty room and demand compensation for playing hero.

Fuck, with that big mouth, you would think that you'd know how to suck cock.

Use your tongue stupid slut. If you use teeth, I'll shove this dick in your ass without any prep.

No, I don't care, you're taking all of it.

There's a video on his camera roll. How could he not record it? You're sobbing, mascara running down your cheeks, looking so beautiful and ruined with jizz smeared at the corner of your mouth. He was brutally fucking your mouth, making you take all of his length.

Breathe through your nose dumb whore. Or else you're gonna run out of air.

You were pleading with whatever garbled sounds you were constricted into producing.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren is conflicted with muting the video because he can't stand to hear himself like that. But he didn't want to miss out on your pitiful whines.

He remembers the distraught expression on your face when he was finally done with you. He tucked himself inside, and sneered, "I've got a girl coming here. Get lost." You looked so fucking distraught. Why? All he did was make you suck his dick. He didn't even fuck you.

He should have. Eren thinks grimly when he stares at your empty desk on the first day you didn't show up to school. He's gotten off to the video more than enough times than he can count over the weekend, and he was aching to see your pretty face twisted into a terrorized expression when he flipped up your skirt to grope your ass.

Kindly, Eren decides he'd allow you to have a rest day. But the second day, Eren pays a visit to your house finding it dark and locked, like no one was home and hadn't been there for a while.

On the third day, you're declared missing.

Your incompetent workaholic mother who finally came home and decided to give a damn reported you missing to the authorities who had scratched their heads because as far as they knew, the pivotal 72 hours were up.

Paradis was surrounded by forests. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking it. If you got lost in there, chances are you wouldn't make it out.

Eren wasn't always this admired and fawned over. He had his fair share of behavioral issues that frightened people (not you though, not then at least, not when you were children, and you still came back every day to play).

But when he channeled that anger into sports, there was somewhat of a star in the making, especially for some small-town boy. He was becoming extremely popular, and that's nice and all, but at the end of the day, he has a mother whose health was taking a sharp decline. He was constantly under stress, stress that he took out on you.

Where did his favorite stress-ball go?

It's all fucking surreal. Having detectives in the school. Not that there were many students to question (because christ, did you even have any friends after Eren turned everyone against you?).

Eren was questioned. He can't help but mirthfully chuckle. Maybe this was your grand plan, maybe you were able to finally sort out a mountain of evidence against him. If you were going to fuck him over, didn't you want to see it happen with your own two eyes?

The dark-haired boy wishes that was true. If you had gotten your revenge, would you be here? No, revenge isn't the right word. If you got any justice for what he made you suffer, would you come back?

Hi, I'm Detective Hange. I would like to ask you some questions today. You're Eren Yeager, right?

Yes, that's me.

How do you know ___?

We were childhood friends. We're uh, we're not as close anymore.

When was the last time you saw her?

Friday night at Floch's party-

-Floch Forster right? There were a number of kids there from your school.

Yeah. It was a big party. She uh, doesn't usually come to parties but she was there that night.

You were the last person to be seen with her. Other kids have said that they saw you and her entering a room together, and then only her leaving the said room.

[Sigh] Yeah we sorta...hooked up.

I thought you said you guys weren't close anymore.

You can be not close to someone and still hook up with them.

But you guys were close once right?

Yeah. Once.

The dark-haired boy asks if he was under any suspicion. The detective waves their hand in a dismissive gesture, “If her diary tells us anything, it’s only that she really liked you.”

Were detectives even allowed to divulge that sort of information? Eren doesn’t know but the stray detail that they offered off-handedly made him feel like he was swallowing needles.

At that point, Eren honestly still doesn't believe you're gone. You had a habit of running away, even when you were little kids, but you always came back.

Still, he participates in the search parties with a renewed vigor, even going alone in the forest with a flashlight on most nights.

And he's just so fucking tired. The darkest crevice of his mind almost wishes you were dead because this ignorance was just agony. Almost. Because he still clings to the feeling that one day, he’ll stroll into class and find you in your seat in the back of the class, looking out the window like some cliche shojo manga protagonist.

There are folders and folders on his phone. Albums. The most recent one is dedicated to your crying face as you were choking on his dick. Earlier albums are composed of creepshots of your panties, of that obscene o-face, of your skirt flipped up and your ass cheeks, pictures of your cleavage, videos of you thrashing as he dunked your head into toilets like a villainous middle school bully.

Pictures of your neck covered in hickeys, your naked breasts, ass cheeks striped with red after getting spanked, your leaking cunt, just endless and endless media dedicated to pieces and pieces of your body like you were never a whole person.

The earliest ones though tell a different tale, from off-guards to your drooling face as you napped in the middle of the day.

He has a favorite picture. Your eyes are watery from the cold, snowflakes stuck between lashes, nose and cheeks flushed red, and you're smiling. Smiling right to the camera. Right at him.

"Eren, are you taking a picture?" You asked, bouncing in place, giddy that it was finally snowing.

"Not of you, shut up. Get out of the way." His voice is gruff but not harsh.

You laughed and jumped into frame anyway, and the bright streetlamp behind you made you seem like you were wearing a halo.

He wishes he had more pictures of you being...yourself. Because now your crying face displayed over countless pixels haunt him. But like a fucking degenerate, he still jerks off to all the nudes he coerced from you. Sometimes he cries when he's jerking off which is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done. This is what you've reduced him to.

He hates the sound of his own voice.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren goes through the motions of life without really feeling like he's in the moment. Seasons change and time flies. His mother dies, and his withdrawn father dies a year later. He proposes to Mikasa because it's something he was always supposed to do. She loves him unconditionally, so even when he doesn't put any effort into the relationship but proposes, she says yes hoping he'll change and be a good husband.

He doesn't go to his parents' funerals because they're already dead. What's the point. He doesn't visit the candlelight vigils in your honor either. After tearing his ACL again and a somewhat traumatic injury, he kisses his pro-football career goodbye. To be totally honest, he's relieved. Because he had gotten quite bored, and maybe he was looking for excuses to quit the entire time. It's not like you'd be cheering on the bleachers anyways.

Mikasa has an affair, more out of a desire to see her fiancé feel something for her as opposed to any burning lust. But when she asks him if he's ever cared at all, with tears springing out of her eyes, he's just calmly drinking his fifth of whisky.

The dark-haired man doesn't even look up, "Let's break up."

"Is this about her, huh? Fucking get over it already Eren. She's GONE. And you have some big fucking audacity moping about her death like you weren't making her cry in the bathroom stalls every fucking day you piece of shit."

"Get out."

"You know what, I bet she killed herse-"

SMASH

The dark-haired woman doesn't finish her rant because the whiskey bottle smashes on the wall next to her head, sending glass everywhere and staining the carpet amber. She's unharmed, knowing it wasn't Eren's intention to hit her but Jesus Christ, what a monster.

She packs her bags and leaves the town like she should have a long time ago. All her friends had left years before and she stayed behind because that's where Eren was. She thanks her lucky stars that they didn't marry.

It's funny because he had always imagined himself being the first to move out of their small town, but he's the one staying. He can't leave this place. feels too tethered to ever leave. Every diner and liquor store is saturated with memories of you. He remembers buying cigarettes and exhaling the smoke to your face to piss you off in empty parking lots.

Maybe he stays in case you'll come back.

Eren's days consist of alcohol-fueled hazes. He doesn't know how his liver is still functioning. He doesn't know he's still alive after crashing his car into a tree when he was drunk out of his mind. He was on his way to get some more vodka.

He barely recognizes himself in the mirror anymore, not that he looks at himself much. His hair is long, nestled around his shoulder because he couldn't be bothered to cut it, dark circles under viridian eyes, and a perpetual stubble on his jaw.

His parents had left quite a sizable inheritance so there's no need to work but he's good with his hands. Likes crafting up birdhouses and cabinets, and occasionally does odd jobs around the neighborhood, never charging the elderly.

He's under the sink, tinkering with a wrench against the pipes when he hears the old lady coo at him.

"We're so lucky to have you Eren. I'm surprised a handsome young man like yourself doesn't have a special lady. The girls must be lining up at your door!"

The dark-haired man winces, and offers no comment, knowing that that the older lady was susceptible to long tangents.

"You know, we're getting a new neighbor." Eren grunts as a response. "They're young, I've heard. Isn't that exciting? Oh my, Eren! I think they're gonna be living in the house right next to yours..."

He tunes out the rest of the conversation because doesn't really care. He just hopes his new neighbors are quiet.

It's Sunday noon when obnoxious noises of moving trucks and people wake him up from his deep slumber. Eren's annoyed to wake up despite the fact he's probably been sleeping over 15 hours. He oscillates between getting too much sleep and getting none, his sleeping habits completely dependent on his dreams.

His nightmares are too visceral, visions of your corpse asking him if he'd enjoyed hollowing your soul with his teeth.

His dreams are achingly sweet. You in your prom gown, shining so iridescently like diamonds were sewn into the silk. He's dancing with you, holding you close, and then after you guys go to your favorite diner and gorge on burgers and milkshakes.

There's a peal of distinctly feminine laughter that stirs up Eren's senses. He's so pathetic, was the mere sound of a woman laughing getting him excited?

He sighs. He thinks of the whore he's frequently visited because of her resemblance to you. Hair color, skin color, face shape--with enough alcohol, he could really convince the person beneath him, was you. Maybe it's time to give her a call, but she's gotten so fucking needy and he hated how her voice didn't match yours.

The green-eyed man peers from the lace curtains, irritated by the brats playing on his lawn. A full family next door? Great, just what he needs.

The friendly knock on his door breaks him out of his daze. He contemplates whether he should answer but on the second more muted knock, he lets his feet guide him.

He turns the knob.

And Eren Yeager completely shatters.

Because it's you isn't it? You're the person standing in front of him? He can hear what you're saying but he doesn't really register it, soaking in the cadence of a voice he had long forgotten because all he had were pleading whimpers and frenzied moans stored on his cell.

He's shaking. Is he dreaming? He's dreaming, right? He knows it's you. You're older, far more beautiful than he's ever seen you. You have a different hairstyle, wearing clothes he would have mocked you for, and there's this joyfulness within you that makes you glow.

There's a mess of emotions electrifying in the pits of his stomach from euphoria, anger, and dread. He could feel his skin growing clammy like he was about to vomit at any second.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Doe eyes full of concern peer up at him. He voices out the syllables of your name like a desperate prayer.

You tilt your head to the side, "How do you know my name?"

#eren yeager x reader #bully eren yeager #toxic eren #eren yeager x you #yandere eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #dubcon tw #tw noncon #tw abuse #tw drinking #tw drunk driving #eren yeager fanfiction #dark content #dark fic #tw trauma #tw depr

1K notes · View notes

seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Enceinte

(This is a Yandere Amajiki x Pregnant Female Reader story :)) Please proceed with caution!

TW: Stockholm syndrome!, mentions of abuse! (not you), mentions of dub/noncon! (not you), !mentions of unsafe abortion! (not you), pregnancy!, !!!mentions of a suicide attempt!!!! (not you), captivity!, !lactation kink!, !breast milk drinking!, no sex but NSFW themes!, etc..

I hope you guys like this!)

Tamaki’s large hand rubs your back soothingly, attempting to alleviate your current backache. He’s taken you on a ‘playdate’ with his friend’s darling, and the four of you are sitting in the jovial blond’s living room.

“Everytime we see her, she just keeps getting bigger and bigger!” Mirio cheers, “How far along is she now?” He talks about you as if you aren’t there, causing you and your previously unwanted husband to become uncomfortable. The blond is definitely not a Yandere anyone would want; he’s controlling, sadistic, misogynistic, entitled-all things you’re happy that your Amajiki isn’t. It’s just another reason why you gave into him a year ago.

“Mirio, pl-please don’t talk about (Your Name) like she isn’t here. You know it makes me uncomfortable,” The brawny man’s eyes flash with a dark emotion, causing you to lean in closer to the indigo haired man’s side. His friend scares you, and you can’t help but pray for his darling. The poor girl is always covered with bruises, littered with painful gashes, and just the thought of your friend being hurt by that monster brings a tear to your (colour) eyes.

“Ah, it seems I forgot. Sorry Ama,” Your husband freezes up with further discomfort at his best friend’s use of your nickname. His blue eyes land on your rigid form, a small smirk on his thin lips, “How far along are you, (Nickname)?”

Your left hand is on your round stomach, your son kicking lightly at your touch, “We’re about seven months! I’m set to give birth in a few months,” A small smile is on your lips at the thought of your future child. Amajiki’s free hand places itself on top of yours, causing you to look up and give him a full on grin. Seeing that he was smiling at you as well, you place your head on his shoulder. He always knows how to make you feel better.

“See, (Friend’s Name)? This could be us if you weren’t so stubborn,” Your husband interlaces your fingers together, squeezing reassuringly. He knows that his friend’s actions are somewhat triggering, especially because you know the things he’s done. Mirio lets out a wicked laugh, looking at the both of you with cruel eyes, “(Friend Name) here and I were pregnant a few months ago, after a long night of love-making,” Amajiki holds you even tighter, trying to stop your terror-filled shakes, “But someone was selfish. Someone decided to take a handful of pills, and now your mini Tamaki won’t have a friend. But don’t worry,” His large hands grip your friend’s thigh harshly, “We’ll try again. That’s the point of women, eh, Amajiki? Our own personal baby-makers?”

Your teary eyes find (Friend’s Name)’s, your hand covering your mouth. You hadn’t seen her for a month, and you now know why. You also now know why her hands are covered with mittens, why her throat is wrapped with a shock collar, why she-

Tamaki stands up quickly, his hands gently guiding you onto your swollen feet. He wraps a protective arm around your waist once you’re fully standing, and he starts to guide you to Mirio’s yellow front door, “Ah, I-I think it-it’s time we go home. (Your Name) i-is sleepy, so-”

“Don’t worry about it, buddy! I totally understand. After all, good Darlings get nice privileges, and (Your Name) is one of the best Darlings I’ve ever met. She knows her place,” He stands to his feet, standing a good five inches above your very tall husband, “Come on, (Friend’s Name), let’s walk them out.”

The (Hair colour) girl struggles to her feet, her broken foot in a boot. She hobbles to the door in her house-wife esque frock, drawing a laugh from the sunny man. The sight hurts your heart so bad, that you have to look away.

Once the other couple reach their front door, Mirio draws a large keyring filled to the brim with different coloured keys from his pocket, before inserting each one into the ten locks present on the painted wood. Once all are unclasped, he holds the door open with a boot clad foot.

“You two have a good day! I’m sorry for (Friend’s Name)’s behaviour, I’ll be sure to straighten her out once you leave,” You hear her barely muffle a sob, making your lip quiver with your own sobs. Once outside, you hear the door slam shut, and hear a series of locking mechanisms go into place.

“He’s gotten worse,” You hear Amajiki mutter, which is enough to send you into a breakdown. His muscular arms wrap you in a tight side hug, his own tears dripping onto your (hair/head).

You cry for your friend and the person she once was.

He cries at the monster his best friend has become.

Tamaki was right, you ended up taking a nap the moment you got home.

When you awoke, your back hurts even more than before, along with your milk filled tits. Massaging your sore chest, you sit up with a bit of trouble. At your last appointment, your doctor said your son was a big fella, and cautioned you against doing anything besides resting. This caused the already doting Amajiki to take up every chore and task you have.

Right now, you can hear and smell him cooking your favourite meal, causing you to stand onto your wobbly feet. With one hand on your tummy and one on your back, you waddle towards your personal chef of a husband.

He’s currently leaning against the grey granite counter across from the stove, and when he sees your form struggling towards him, he rushes into action. Tamaki quickly sweeps you off of your feet, and brings you to your kotatsu couch. Gently placing you onto your preferred spot, he helps you place a few pillows behind you to help give you better back support.

“Bunny, what are you doing out of bed? You could’ve hurt yourself,” He’s improved on his nervous stutter since you’ve fallen for him, warming your heart completely.

“I’m sorry, Ama. I woke up with a backache and wanted a massage, but then I got hungry-” He loves listening to you ramble, you’re the most precious person he’s ever known. Especially when you ‘talk’ to your son. Sometimes he’d listen in and hear you coo about the cute outfits you found for him, or how his Daddy is a super cool hero, or how you can’t wait for him to come out so you can pinch his chubby cheeks, or- “Are you even listening?” He glances up, taking in your adorable pout, causing his face to go red.

“Of course! I’ll give you a backrub after dinner, okay? Then we can take a shower,” You nod, allowing him to hurry to the kitchen to grab your food and utensils.

He comes back at a lightning fast pace, he uses a few tentacles to juggle the (bowls/plates) along with the (chopstick/spoons/forks), side dishes, and toppings.

“Go ahead and eat, okay? I’m sure you and (Son Name) are starving,” Giggling at his overeagerness, you give in to his demand.

“-Is this pressure good? Let me know if it’s not,” Amajiki’s massive hands knead your aching shoulders, and rub down your pained spine. His thumbs massage the area around your ribs, trying to loosen your muscles to allow you to relax. You’re currently shirtless, clad in only your bra and your comfortable joggers.

“Mhm, you always know how to make me feel better, Ama,” He practically preens at your words, smooching the bare skin of your upper back.

The massage continues, easing the pain in your back. Now, the only thing ailing you is your sore breasts.

“A-are you okay, Bunny? You tensed up quite a bit,” You turn your head enough for him to see your comforting smile.

“Yes, I’m okay. It’s just, uhm, oh man, this is so embarrassing,” Both of your hands cover your face to hide your flushing cheeks, sending Tamaki into a mini panic attack.

“What is it? Is the baby giving you trouble? Do I need to take you to the hospital?” Seeing his panic, you try to turn to face him, but require his assistance to do so. His clammy hands grip yours as he brings you toward him.

“No, Tama, it’s nothing serious, it’s just…” You look down in shame, “My, uhm, my breasts hurt,” Your voice trails off at the end, causing your husband not to hear you.

“Wha-what was that?” Small tears group in your eyes, as your shame overwhelms you.

“My boobs hurt! Please don’t make fun of me by making me ask again!” Seeing your distress, he quickly brings you into his embrace.

“No, no, it’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you the first time, I swear! I’ll help you, Bun, there’s no need to cry. Here,” The indigo haired man unclasps your bra, allowing your tits to fall out somewhat harshly. Yelping at the ache, Tamaki tries to soothe you by holding your larger breasts up, alleviating the pain, “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” You smooch his forehead, his entire face is bright red, “Please help me, I need you,” Your wet eyes and much larger breasts make your husband look away, trying not to become aroused.

“Oh-okay,” His warm hands gently squeeze your teats, testing to see if that was enough pressure. A small moan leaves your lips, telling him that what he’s doing is helping.

His hands knead your sensitive chest in a rhythmic fashion, slowly quelling the pain you were once suffering.

Just when you fully relaxed, disaster struck.

Two streams of thick milk spray from your teats, coating the front of his black shirt. You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands.

“I’m sorry Ama! I-I didn’t mean to! It just-” Without missing a beat, the indigo haired man suddenly latches on to your nipple. His lips suck vigorously, trying to drink all of your yummy milk in one go. A loud moan leaves your lips, as you try to detach him from your leaking tit, “Wha-what are you doing?” A keen escapes your throat when he tweaks your other nipple, dripping your milk onto your joggers. His own moans vibrate against you, sending a flash of arousal to your pussy.

Once he has his fill of your right breasts, he lets go with a small gasp, “Do-do you feel better Bun-Bun?” Now that you thought about it, yes, yes you do. So, you nod your head, mouth slightly agape.

“Please, ‘Jiki! Please milk my other titty too!” He doesn’t say anything, before he latches on to your left nipple. Whilst he sucks, he lets his tongue flick your leaky teat, triggering a little more milk to spray out. You both moan, one of you in absolute lust, and the other in relief. The heavy, aching feeling of your breasts slowly fades away, leaving you feeling light and happy.

Your hand runs through his soft locks, a sigh of pleasure going through your nose, “Thank you, Ama, you’re so good to me. I’m sorry if it doesn’t taste good-” He quickly releases your left nipple to kiss you on the lips.

“Your milk is delicious, Bunny. I don’t think I can ever go back to cow’s milk ever again!” He fondles your enlarged chest, playing with your sensitive nipples, “I love you so much, (Your Name). Is it okay if I nurse with our son?”

You flush at his words, “Bu-but my milk’s for (Son’s Name), won’t he go hungry?” He shakes his head no, kissing you on the lips once more.

“I asked your doctor for breast milk supplements, you’re going to have more milk than he’ll need! Please, Bunny! Please let me have more!” You can’t say no when he asks you so sweetly. Smiling at him, you nod.

You know you should be upset that those ‘extra vitamins’ weren’t truly vitamins, but you can’t bring yourself to care. After all, he loves you so much that he wants to drink from you!

So, when he reattaches himself to your right nipple, you pet him sweetly.

#yandere amajiki #yandere tamaki #suneater x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #yandere tamaki x reader #tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #tw lactation #tw: pregnancy

988 notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 1 year

Note

Reaaaally feeling the bully!Bakugou being sweet and redeeming himself to victim!darling!!! But could you make one where darling doesn’t accept him after all 😈 😈 😈 and he’s suddenly not so inclined to be sweet anymore???

Changed it up a bit from the last one cuz i didn’t wanna write the same-ish thing, but anyway check that one out too here

BNHA ! FIC

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon, mentions of minors/teens having sex (but no actual depictions of it), toxic relationship, possessiveness, angst WC: 3.5k

No One Else

She’s not sure why she'd ever let it drag out for so long.

In the beginning, it could be blamed on things outside their control. Where, between the tension that had always simmered within their strained dynamic as pretty girl and vile boy -plus the oncoming of puberty and its whirl of hormones- they were both left in a turmoil of strange pheromones making them panicked, embarrassed, confused, and most of all in dire need of an outlet for it all.

One of which they surprisingly found in each other.

They’d been but foolish teenagers at a silly house party at the time, their first-ever shots of alcohol buzzing through their system as they shared a kiss like none other.

They’d stumbled up the stairs and gotten frisky in the bedroom while family pictures of their shared friend and his family witnessed them tearing at each other until the skin of childhood had shed and left them both as grown-ups.

Waking up with a new special understanding of themselves and each other, one with a strange respect and newfound curiosity for the other’s body.

But why he hadn't grown bored of it since and why she'd never put her foot down and ended things was beyond her.

Katsuki had explained it once, one of those times he'd come stumbling into her apartment, drunk and in the midst of buckling up his pants while pawing at her. Kissing her sloppy, he’d mumbled out something along the lines of how no one else knows him like she does.

And she supposed that had mainly been the reason; that they just knew each other too well and had known each other too long, to which point everyone else just seemed alien; that there was a sort of comfort -if one could call it that- in the familiarity of each other that just couldn't be replicated or replaced by anyone else.

She’d been raised and groomed to sustain Katsuki and all his ugly tempers all her life. And -blinded by a sense of distorted credit she used to don herself- she couldn't quite imagine anyone being able to handle him but her. And -though she still can’t really put her finger on why- the thought had used to make her proud.

It had made her feel somewhat special...

And needed.

She thought it would go on forever then…

Not that she’d ever bothered to give it much thought.

That is… until she had that very flirty encounter at the café where she worked. Where, in between being sweet-talked into a stuttering blushed mess and being asked out for coffee someplace where she wouldn't have to serve it herself, she’d come to question her current relationship and started doubting her true obligations toward Katsuki as a partner.

They didn’t go on dates. They didn’t live together. They didn’t text or call one another. They didn’t eat dinner or plan things or visit each other’s parents.

She didn’t have anything in his apartment, nor him in hers. She’d never washed any of his clothes. She’d never worn any of his clothes. She’d never even driven his car.

They’d never given each other presents. They didn’t tell people about their relationship. They didn’t talk about work, their day, or their feelings. Actually -having given it a long thought- they didn’t really talk at all.

In fact, when it came down to it, the only thing she'd been able to think of that they'd ever done together… was sex.

Sex and nothing more…

She doesn’t know if things would have ever changed if he hadn’t asked her what the number scrawled in blue pen on her arm was...

But nevertheless, that’s when Katsuki started acting strange.

She'd never expected he’d get so upset by it, but she ended up apologizing that night while promising him that next time she wouldn’t be so silly, that next time she’d make it clear she already had a boyfriend.

She remembers thinking how the way he fucked her that night had been nothing short of desperate. Having given her nearly no room to breathe with how tightly he’d held her, his face nuzzling into her neck with lovebites, thrusting into her in such a way he was barely even pulling out, pounding her cervix more than her cunt to the point she’d feared it bruised, having had to pat his shoulder to tell him to calm down.

He’d held her face then, and she’d realized that they hadn’t really had too much eye contact before. She remembers that even then, she couldn’t really decide if she liked it or not. Or rather... she’s sure she’d found it unpleasant, though just hadn’t had the guts to give the feeling any influence.

She regrets it now that it’s too late. Maybe if she’d done or said something back then, she wouldn’t be in the situation she was trapped in now.

For lack of a better -more suitable- word, she’d have to say he’d become clingy if only it didn’t sound too sweet and childish for someone so much larger than her. But maybe she’d just feared calling it what it had been.

And what it had really been…

Was threatening.

Overbearing and possessive, and needlessly protective. He’d quickly become paranoid with jealousy. Portraying strange obsessive emotions she hadn't known he harbored for her at all until then.

She hadn’t really been able to put her finger on it at the time.

It started out small. Or, small in comparison to now. Small pleasantries he’d never bothered with before. Small niceties she’d never imagined the two of them would do together.

Thinking back, the first deviation -aside from the triggering night he’d initially seen the phone number and felt the threat of her slipping from his grasp- was the time he’d come and visited her at work when out on patrol. And though he hadn’t really asked, she’d come to realize -rather hesitantly- that he’d come there to eat lunch together with her.

Maybe she’d been too swept up in the embarrassing buzz to notice, caught in the paparazzi of hushed whispers and judgy stares -all of them asking whom the Plain Jane thought she was, eating lunch with the up-and-coming pro-hero Dynamight- she hadn’t really the time nor mind to pay attention to him and all his newly awoken instincts regarding her.

It seemed fucking silly now… How she’d foolishly thought the bizarre lunch was an isolated incident of which wouldn’t ever happen again, only to find herself quickly schooled the next day and the day after that, coming to understand she was to expect it as a regular thing. And soon, it wasn’t even the strangest thing anymore.

Soon he was driving her home every day, coming inside, eating dinner, watching the news until late, and staying the night. Soon she found herself waking up in his apartment alone, coming downstairs to find he’d made her breakfast before leaving, combined with a little note telling her when he’d be back. Soon she wasn’t spending a single week or weekend without him. Soon she couldn’t find anything to wear that didn’t either remind her of him or smell like him or that downright didn’t belong to him completely.

And he’d started taking her places too -on dates- broadcasting their relationship to anyone with a cameraphone who could snap a picture and send it to every gossip magazine in Japan. He’d introduced her to his colleagues -whom she knew to be “friends” from some rather upsetting stories he’d told her when he was in a less and less rare mood for talking- and they’d seemed to know whom she was just as intimately, giving her the sneaking suspicion that Katsuki’d been running his mouth and saying private things he ought not to.

But that had all been child’s play.

It got out of control when he’d ordered a delivery truck to pack down all her things and move them all to his apartment before she got home from work. Sure, he’d introduced the idea of living together in passing, but she couldn’t remember ever committing to it or being at all close to an understanding of where and when.

Thinking about it now, that was probably her last chance of escaping before things got ugly.

But then, it was already too late. She was living with him suddenly. Sharing all his space while unable to shake that awfully crippling feeling of just being another medal or trophy up on the mantle. Just a decorative doll he’d locked behind glass.

She’d felt as though her head was in a cloud. And not in a nice way, but in the utmost hollow way. As though she’d put herself on auto-pilot and just gone with the stream like jellyfish.

And now…

Now he was down on one knee.

Asking -no demanding- that she give him everything.

For life until due death.

Just the two of them.

Together.

Forever.

She swallowed thickly, feeling her head prickle as though it had fallen asleep without taking her with it.

Her lips dry, her eyes dry, feeling more sober than ever.

She took a breath and, on the next exhale, spoke.

“No.”

They both just stared at each other for a while as though neither could decide who was more shell-shocked and had the right reserved to remain still the longest. She left -deciding it was the person on the floor with the expensive ring weighing down his hand- and walked towards the mudroom.

“What are you doing?” He asked then, hesitantly at first. Shaken from his spot, he’d resumed his full height again, loudly stomping across the floor to reach her.

“I’m sorry- I- I can’t stay here- I need to go.” She rushed, head spinning, only able to understand how she wanted to put shoes on and leave. Maybe get a drink at a bar by herself and figure her shit out without being suffocated by him.

“Don’t do this.” He said then, sounding desperate and somewhat feeble if it weren’t for how he had her pushed against the wall in the same second.

She nearly decided against herself when seeing the look on his face. Warped into something truly fragile. Plead had his brows pinched together while his sharp red eyes -now doe-like- had glossed over and looked nothing short of hopeless and scared.

She’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her heart twist and ache and feel a little guilty.

But nevertheless.

“I can’t marry you, Katsuki….”

She couldn’t keep doing this.

“I’m sorry- I don’t love-”

She didn’t get to finish. The word taken, stifled, strangled in a fist closing around her throat.

“You do love me.” He refuted quickly, as though terrified to have let her finish. “You’ve always loved me.” Trembling while he said it, as though trying to force himself into believing it too.

Shaking her collar in unstable hands. Bearing down on her until she couldn’t be pushed flatter against the stone behind her, until his forehead rested against the wall and his lips brushed the shell of her ear in hot, heavy strained breaths.

“You’re just confused.” He rasped, voice light and breathy and nearly amounting to a giggle -or a sob- she wasn’t sure which.

But she couldn’t care much when she couldn’t breathe. Head burning into a numb wet cotton that was no longer able to tell her to push him off and instead let her hands go limp against his chest, knees going weak beneath her.

“Katsuki… Kat… su-”

She was convinced he’d kill her before the tiniest slither of air was allowed back in through her windpipe, gasping for it like a glutton until coughing it all up again when choking on her own desperate gulps.

Her hands held her throat in an act of soothing it from the forming bruises and shielding it from further attack. But Katsuki was ahead of her and had his sights on attacking something else.

He took her by the hair and started pulling, dragging her from the door and further into the apartment.

“Stop- stop it- Katsuki-” She begged between hiccups and coughs, her hands clawing at his in an effort to free his grasp from her scalp. Her shins dragged to burns against the cold marble as her legs kicked in the struggle, hitting the floor in a series of sporadic thuds until he stopped. “Katsuki-”

He’d crossed the threshold of their bedroom and was now throwing her down on the mattress, pinning her in the same second with a hand gripping her jaw and eyes a searing cold that seemed to lash out at her like unstable fire, glaring at her with a look so blank and empty she felt it like the chill of death creep throughout her bones.

“If you want me to be nice, you should shut up.”

She knew she ought to listen, but still, one last prayer slipped off her tongue against her better judgment before she could think twice about it. “Katsuki, please don’t do this-”

“Don’t do what!?” He barked -spit flying and teeth bared just like a rabid rottweiler- louder than she’d ever witnessed, loud enough to make her wince. “Break your heart!?” His voice cracked on the cry, and he paused, giving another gruesome and gut-wrenching chuckle. Head ducking between her breasts with spikey hair nipping at her throat like a million needles.

His hand tightened even more, clawing into her cheeks.

“I’m just making things even.”

She’d never realized just how hopeless she was if she’d ever needed to fend him off. But she’d never needed to before, never wanted to until now.

Now that he had her so helplessly beneath him, where the reality was slowly dawning on her and making her ever more hysteric, slowly settling upon her like dust after an explosion. The ensuing violation and her utter defeat in fighting it, her failure in doing much more than make it worse, where every time she landed anything that weakly resembled a slap or kick, he retaliated tenfold by crushing her in his strength.

Spreading her legs by positioning himself between them, he cared little for all her bleating where the former fight she’d tried to make match his diminished into desperate attempts to protect herself instead. She was sobbing now, gasping for breath with her chest rising and falling on beat with the deafening drums of her racing heart.

He tugged his tie loose and threw it off his head, wrapping her wrists in the loop and tightening it into restraints. Only now noticing just how brittle she was. So much smaller than him. So much so, he nearly abandoned his task of tying her hands to the bedpost in all. But -finding he might lose his cool and break her arm if she dared continue shoving at him- he pulled them over her head and fastened them anyway, if not for his than for her sake to avoid it.

And then she really was less than nothing beneath him. Just a defenseless pile of warm plush flesh soft against him and all his scarred muscles and callouses and years upon years of dedicated training.

She’d pulled her thighs shut, but it hardly mattered. His hands -buried in the fine plume of her cakey fat- had them both spread again with nearly no strength put into it at all.

It was all right there -taken with no effort- only a cute pink cotton panty stopping him.

His heart clenched at that, flickered and tugged with misery at the look of her crying into her own arm, trying to comfort herself while her chest heaved, already tired of screaming and bawling. Having resorted to soft sniffles and weak snivels while tiny quakes shook through her still, goosebumps adorning all her exposed flesh, which was every part of her sept for what her pretty silk dress kept hidden.

She was so beautiful…

Adorable.

Precious and just…

Too good.

He knew that. He knew that she was too good for him and had always been too good for him -part of the reason why he used to act as though he hated her- when, in reality… he actually…

“I love you.” He cried. “I’ve always loved you….”

Hot tears splashed in big droplets, staining the silk with splotches that seeped into large flecks on her stomach.

“I can’t live without you-” He continued, his hands shaking where he held her apart while his body sagged forward, bowing down, donning soft kisses to her neck and jaw, upon the tears staining her cheeks with streaks, whispering in a voice close to breaking. “I can’t- I won’t-” Choked and pitiful, raw from shouting only a moment earlier.

One of his hands detached from its bruising grip, whilst the other loosened and slid higher -pulling her dress up on its way- and started rubbing loving circles into her midriff. She heard his buckle go undone a second later and offered another whimpering sob, her own hands jostling in their bonds on beat with her shaky breaths while trying to angle her face further away with the aim of avoiding the attack of his wet teary kisses.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, but I can’t… I can’t let you go.”

She felt him press against her clothed cunt with the weight of his swollen thickness and let out another whimper. Nose stuffed full with the smell of his breath and the scent of his sweet nitro-like sweat and eyes full of unyielding tears.

His hand reached for her panty, hooking the trail and pulling it to the side, making her sink her teeth into the plump of her lip to suppress yet another whimper while she cringed with uncomfort and the unanswered wishes for him to stop as he nibbled on the corner of her mouth with more teary proposals.

His fingers soon prodded her slit like they’d done nearly every day for years since they were but teens. Touching her with a perfected skill he’d learned would have her shiver with arousal.

She yielded quickly, her sex turning puffy and wet sooner than she had the time to be embarrassed about it.

“No one knows you as well as I do. No one loves you as much as I do.” He chanted against her skin, entering her with both his longest digits, pumping them deep and scraping them in a cruel curl into that spot he knew had her toes doing the same. Smiling, once her hips made an involuntary jolt in response. “No one else but me.”

He pulled his hands to himself once she’d left three of his digits warm and soaking with slick, lathering his own arousal with it before nudging his cockhead against her opening in a sticky kiss and breaching it.

She stiffened, and he groaned into her neck at the feel of her clamping down even tighter as he bottomed out into her already taunt choke.

“No one else would know how to love you.” He hissed, setting a sweet tempo, lips still close, grazing on the peachfuzz of her cheek, ghosting her skin with hot breaths and even hotter words. “No one else would know the first thing to do with you once they had you.”

She shook her head, more so in askance of space than anything else. Needing air free of him. Needing to clear her head off the building warmth she felt spread from her core. Needing to shake the coil loose before it could knot itself further. But it seemed the more she tried fending it off, the faster it neared its end, like a spark aided by the wind in chasing the tail of a wic until exploding what dynamite found at its end.

She always shook so prettily when cumming -so preciously- when spilling over and moaning all flushed and cute for him with her hips riding it out against his until it left her panting, blushed, and adorned with a shiny sheen of dew, making her look golden in the glory of the after high.

He used to regard it as something sweet she’d give him, like a reward or devotion.

Only now did he realize how utterly at his mercy she was -unable to keep even this from him- just completely laid bare to accept what he gave and give what he decided to take.

She was his, and not even she herself could deny it.

She belonged to him.

“No one else.”

tip-jar: Kofi

256 notes · View notes

rjshepherd · 3 years

Text

Karl fics master post

Karl fics i have in the works. ill post links here and individually as i finish them . here is my ao3 account you can also find my searching for Ship-vigilante or RJShepherd

Edit.

It's a long post and scrolling is annoying so Im putting stuff under a readmore for now

Au fics

Main au-

spencer swap- a continuation of my spencer swap au with one of my ocs, Shepherd. I jump around a lot and have fics set in every game from re1 to re8 on the go as wips. Don't hold your breath for this one but you can read the first few chapters here.

Some sort of shitpost fic-

my friends and i have been making hella jokes about the lords. Idk if i'll post this one but it's still in my wips bin.

Chrysalis- inspired by my crystal post

This is just me bringing karl and the other lords back. Pure self serving indulgence right here and i'm not even REMOTELY sorry. Will probably feature shepherd at some point because I like to live vicariously through her. tw possible character death

Alcina sfw/nsfw alphabet/ daniel fabron sfw/nsfw alphabet

self explanatory, character stuff set in my au with alcina and daniel, similar to the karl one.

Karl specific fics- sfw

Titles are placeholders for now, might change when I post them.

Rescue- inspired by this ask

Reader is wandering around the village , lost, hungry, scared and alone. Karl finds them and fluffy softness ensues.

Rain- inspired by this ask

Hurt / comfort . The reader wakes up one day during a terrible storm in the village to find Karl missing. They venture out to find him.

Feral

Somewhat like rain but with more blood and gore. Karl is hurt protecting the reader from miranda.

Snow

Fluff. It's cold as balls outside and Karl doesn't want the reader to go.

Red riding hood

Reverse scenario of feral. Reader is injured protecting Karl from either the bsaa, ethan or the lycans. Karl spends most of the time beating himself up over it, panicking because he doesn't know shit about first aid. I want some soft karl in my life.

Collared- verging on nsfw but no sexual content. inspired by this ask

Reader gives karl his first collar. He’s not quite sure how to react.

Long night- inspired by these asks 1 2

Karl has been angrier than usual. He’s having a hard time coping since leaving the village. All the medicine and mold treatments have him stressed and he’s taking it out on the reader. Sickfic, tw for mentions of trauma

Karl specific fics- nsfw

Unless otherwise stated i'll do an afab and amab version of the reader. I can also do alt versions/ change pronouns/ readers genitals etc upon request.

Scars- inspired by this ask

tw for gore, self harm, injury. solo karl. Karl survives having his throat slit by alcina, self pitying and dark thoughts abound.

Mating season

Karl x lycans. If yall have read licker bait, lycanthrope or my kinktober fic collection then you know what you're in for. Monster fucking, breeding kink and whatever else i feel like throwing in there.

Punishment - tw noncon

Miranda finds out about karls plans. She comes up with a creative punishment involving the cadou. Breeding kink and teratophilia.

Good boy

Nsfw version or continuation of Collared. I just wanna write about some reader doing pet play with karl.

Scent- inspired by part 1 of this ask ftm reader/pegging

Karl keeps his heats a secret , tries his best to use the lycans to deal with it. One day, things get out of hand. The reader will have to show him how to look after himself .

Tension- inspired by part 2 of this ask ftm reader/pegging

Karl is being a grumpy shit during his heat. Reader has had enough and decides to put him in his place hint: it's under them.

Alpha- inspired by part 3 of this ask FTM reader/pegging

Karl wakes up in the worst heat of his life. He can't do anything but cry out for you, his alpha, to sort him out.

Rut- inspired by this ask

Karl goes into a rare rut. Reader isn't willing to give in to his demands so easily.

i think thats everything im working on or planning for the future. if you want to know more about anything feel free to send me an ask

#Karl heisenberg #karl x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #alcina dimitrescu #mother miranda #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #my stuff #my writing #asks

303 notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 3 years

Text

Yandere Profile - Scaramouche

Yes I’m finally posting it lol, I had this sitting around a while actually and was hoping we'd get more info or anything on my boy, but since it looks like that's not happening anytime soon and I’ve had it done, I'll just go ahead and post

That and I kept asking myself "Man is this it? Is this the limit of too gross and dark for it to be searchable?" but meh. I'm sure eventually we'll get more info and I'll have to edit or redo this but oh well, I felt like writing a super sadistic bastard so. For one thing I don't think it's confirmed? But I'm still going with the idea he's electro vision.

EDIT: this is circulating a lot again. Please note this was made prior to version 2.0.

------------------------------------------------

Tws: fem reader, sadism, ns/f/w themes/mentions, manipulation, derogatory offensive language, mutilation, psychological torture, a LOT of physical and emotional abuse, bone breaking, detailed branding, scarification/cutting, mentions of murder, referenced trying to hurt yourself, descriptions of torture to a third party, brief descriptions of violence and gore and very brief mentions of eye/decapitation related stuff on a third party. Scara's just.... very awful lol

Tws (ns//fw section): noncon, severe sadism, d/s content, nonconsensual masochistic conditioning, degradation, anal, public humiliation, cockwarming, petplay, it's just... bad

This is definitely the darkest/most brutal one I've done by a pretty good margin, so, I just feel like I should warn that in case dark yandere isn't your thing.

The whole thing is really long (longest one yet yay) so I'm putting the whole thing under a cut, with a ====== line to divide the sfw and ns//fw sections.

--------------------------------------

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7

Brutality: 10

Physical capability: 6

Mental/emotional instability: 3

Restrictiveness: 6

Sexual sadism: 11

Stubbornness: 9.5

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

Bastard.

Honestly? A lot of his bullshit is defensive, he's basically an extra-mean tsundere that will also happen to rip limbs off of people who look at you the wrong way. Quite literally a case of, "it's not like I like you or anything," which he tells both you and himself.

I mean, what were you expecting. The man is not regarded as a particularly nice person.

Nonetheless, liking you will inevitably come through in certain moments, the mask of apathy for you comes off when necessary, and what comes through instead is an insane degree of possessiveness and defensiveness. It most likely starts with someone else insulting you or getting mad at you, perhaps a Fatui darling that fucks up and some other superior starts yelling at you -- can't have that. Only he's allowed to yell at you, he's the only person that can make you cry and apologize and cower like that, and he has... low self-control. He'll absolutely get pissed and publicly blow up at the other person, making a scene that actually has some benefits, as it will deter everyone who witnesses it from ever being mean to you. Honestly, his meanness is somewhat made up by the fact that literally everyone else will be incredibly nice to you (when you are both given permission to interact), if for nothing else but fear of his wrath.

As far as who, it's likely one of two roles, first, an underling or direct subordinate as mentioned above, perhaps some kind of assistant. Second, more likely, someone who did meet him for a few moments, but in a rather... negative encounter. An enemy he was sent to deal with perhaps, someone he maybe almost got to fight but they ran away, like a coward. Someone who got in the way of him and a target. It's an instinct, really, like escaped prey, to chase after it.

Does he know your name? Because it's... questionable, given that he never calls you by it, instead opting for some rather derogatory, even offensive pet names with even more derogatory adjectives. Namely sexualized, y'know, things like that, the occasional "fucktoy" or "cumslut" later on. And it's wise not to get upset over it, because if you show any anger over it, he'll just intentionally get even worse and meaner. Again, it's all part of a defense mechanism, because God forbid you get the impression that he enjoys being around you. He'll also come up with a mean name based on a physical trait of yours. And... it's somewhat creative, at least. Something derogatory, but it's.... personalized, so, at least that's, well... affectionate? Examples include things such as four-eyes for a glasses-wearer, cow tits for the larger-chested, dumbass for a spacey, inattentive darling.

In a perpetual effort to degrade you as much as possible, he also expects you to respond to whistles and tongue-clicking, you know, the sound you make to call dogs and horses? Well, that sound is for you too, add in a "come here" finger motion sometimes -- all while not bothering to even look up from what he's doing. He could use words, but, that's more effort than he should have to put in, and you should be well-trained enough to know you're supposed to come when you hear that sound.

Another thing is that from the get-go, you get collared. It's degrading, it's possessive, it's humiliating, it's everything he likes inflicting on you. It's made for humans, so it has a lock and key, it's too tight to pull it over your head, and it's solid leather and can't be easily cut. So you're not getting out of it easily. It's not a sex thing, he insists, even though it clearly is and you will openly accuse him of it. He'll admit to it eventually. But it does have it's practical purposes as well. It can't be taken off, and it has his name and the Fatui's symbols on it, so even if you should get out and seek help from some kind of law enforcement or locals, the moment they see your collar they'll just drag you back.

And for someone who always insists you're bothering him, you will find he is actually rather... clingy. Before you know it, you're spending every second of your day with the man. Let's be real, given some of the shit going on within the Fatui, they're not gonna care that one of their highest ranking individuals has, well, more or less a slave. People will turn a blind eye. They don't care if he brings you with him. And like a good pet, you'll just sit quietly tethered to a desk. All day. He'd rather that than leave you at home. If you complain enough, he'll get you something to do, some kind of paper and pencil or a puzzle or the like, tells you to do that and not bother him. But he insists on you being with him. And likewise, the clinginess continues even in living quarters. If he's working on something, he expects you to stay in the same room. If you're in one room and try to run off to the kitchen or bedroom or whatever, you get a glare and a where the fuck do you think you're going?

You actually end up spending, unfortunately, almost more time with him than any other yan, because he insists on taking you to work every single day, whether that's in a headquarters or elsewhere, even on trips/missions, you can just hang around nearby within sight if there's any fighting. He has no need to hide you, since everyone knows about you, and he has enough power to not be challenged by bringing you wherever he wants, so he quite literally keeps you by his side, perpetually, 24/7. How... sweet.

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

For a subordinate darling, though, you're right there, so it's not hard. He just tells you you can't leave, and you're going to be changing your living quarters to his. In fact, he already had some other underlings go to your residence and move some of your things. If you should resist, well, you know your family information is on your employment records, right? Would be such a shame if anything happened to them. He doesn't try to hide it very much, makes the threat pretty obvious with no hint of subtleness.

for any other darling, well, kidnapping is for pathetic people, and he's not one, he thinks. He's too obsessive over self image -- if he kidnaps you, that would make it seem like he likes you, or, archons forbid, even needs you. Can't have that.

Thankfully, there is a useful alternative. It's called, "passive aggressively threatening financial ruin, great harm and even death upon your loved ones unless you do as you are told." See, he doesn't have to resort to pathetic measures like kidnapping. You come willingly. Nor does he get you himself, he's above that. Sure, he might... feel the urge to, but again, he has an image to maintain, you know. Going to fetch his new pet is a task delegated to underlings.

Which is something you honestly might want to thank your lucky stars for, because they're far too afraid of consequences to be rough about it. If you showed up with bruises or cuts, who knows what could happen to them if they marred and defiled his toy with their disgusting hands. So, they're very... gentle. Honestly, the poor things might get you with pity, that if you don't come back with them, it's their job, wellbeing, even life on the line, so hey, maybe you could do the right, empathetic thing and come with them? Maybe you can talk him out of it, and save both of you! (They know that's impossible, but they say so anyway).

For the one-time-encounter darling, at first you're not even sure who they're talking about or what's going on, you're confused and think maybe they have the wrong person? Unfortunately once you're there, once they shove you into a room and slam the doors behind you, you have the oh no, I remember this guy moment. Because, well, how could you forget him? Now you're actually nervous, because they're not very clear at first as to why you're there, only that you're being detained by their forces, so you might think the Fatui would like to kill you, but that doesn't make sense since they brought you all the way here. Maybe interrogation? No, that doesn't make sense either.

He feigns apathy. Again, can't make it seem like you're, you know, important. It's more of an oh, yeah, almost forgot that you were coming sort of attitude. Like you're wasting his time, as if you weren't the one practically dragged here. He's doing some kind of paperwork (not really, he's just holding a pen and pretending to read the paper), and doesn't bother looking up for more than a moment. You're already asking questions, perhaps angrily, perhaps meekly, depending on the personality. If it's the former, he might snap and glare at you and snarl about it, if it's the latter, he'll just shoot you a glare to get you to be quiet.

Says, simply, he's decided that you posed... an obstacle before. An annoyance. You're not worth the trouble you caused before, and he'll make sure you don't get in his way again. He's gracious enough to not kill you, since he thinks you have some potential for a different purpose. You'll be like... a slave. Pet. Toy. Whichever word you like best. You start today and it's indefinite, so get used to it.

He says it so matter-of-factly and calmly, apathetically, that you're almost not certain you heard right, so you blink and stare and ask sorry, what? And he groans and rolls his eyes and tells you to listen because in the future he's not going to be repeating things for you, and tells you again.

You protest? Ok, maybe he'll just actually kill you, then? Sound good? No? Then why bother saying anything? You should have known that was the alternative. Of course, he wouldn't actually kill you, but, you don't exactly know that, and this guy certainly looks and sounds like he wouldn't hesitate. So... have fun.

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

He's going to have you under constant, live surveillance every waking second of your life, so, it's not exactly easy. Given his position, he can easily persuade anyone to let him bring you with him to whatever work he has to do. He keeps you collared and tethered to the desk, most of the time. And he prefers you to be under his surveillance, but if he absolutely needs to leave he will leave you under the care of guards, and it's never a long window of time. Most of said guards value their lives and know the man well enough to know they had better keep a very good eye on you.

Your only real chance is when you get the newbie guard, the one who doesn't know better and might get distracted. If you're willing to throw said guard under the bus, you stand a slight chance of getting out into the main buildings, and even then, you have to make your way out of one of the most heavily guarded, likely walled-in buildings in Teyvat, out into the very difficult to survive wilderness. It's actually not a great idea. You'll most likely end up caught by guards even if you make it out of the initial room, and as you can imagine, your course of actions has not gone over well with your captor, who they drag you back to, likely kicking and screaming because you know you do not want to face his wrath.

It's not pretty. Escape attempts are a very high-ranking offense in his mind, and even worse, you've made a fool of yourself and reflected poorly on him. You'll most likely have a broken bone by the end of it. He doesn't really think out punishments for this very much, he just acts on angry impulse, which at the time might be snapping one or two of your fingers, or a kick to the stomach that cracks a rib. It won't be too severe of broken bones, thankfully, he won't break your legs or arms... not just yet, at least.

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

Ok actually... you'd be surprised that it's easier than you think. You see, you'll find that a lot of particularly cruel, mean-spirited people often don't have the best socialization skills, as people tend to fear them so much and dislike engaging with them that they don't get a lot of conversational exchanges beyond barking orders and dominating any exchanges, and consequently, as well as due to people's fear of them, have difficulty telling when someone is lying, being sarcastic, or reading subtle things like body language and facial expressions.

As a result, you can lie to him, and he's more easily fooled by acting than you'd expect, although it's still difficult, it's just no next-to-impossible. But I mean, really, the question is more... is it really worth the risk? Because you'll suffer if you get caught. Managing to trick him is kinda humiliating on his end, and he doesn't exactly take kindly to people making a fool out of him. It's an insult to his pride, so, consequences are more severe than just regular misbehavior. Basically the more an offense humiliates him or makes him insecure, the more he'll lash out at you as a result. Lying or any kind of deception is a very severe offense on his internal ranking. Basically, lying is only really worth it if you're planning an escape and are fairly confident you can pull it off.

Manipulation isn't really possible. What, you promise you'll behave better if you get this or that? And you think that'll persuade him? Hah. Don't try it. He actually gets mad if you try that sort of thing. Any exchange like that, you see, gives you a semblance of some sort of power, which is unacceptable. Why give you an inch of your way when he can just brutalize his way into getting you to do whatever he wants? That being said, he might come up with things on his own to pacify or appease you if you annoy him in general, but won't listen to your "deals" -- so really, if you want something, it's smarter to express interest in that thing at some point, then go and annoy him in general -- he's much more likely to think of that thing and get you what you want, whereas if you ask for it directly in exchange for not being such a brat, he'll say no.

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

Initially not a lot, he doesn't want to waste money on anything for you, but soon realizes you can be very, very annoying while he's trying to work, and you're so bored that you're willing to take the consequences of being annoying. He hates to give in to the "if you give me stuff to do I won't bother you" thing because it feels like giving in to you, but, eventually if you pester him enough he'll cave and get your something to do from his own idea, but as aforementioned, not a direct deal made with you.

So, eventually, you'll get things to do. Books, paper and pencils, anything that works if you give him some peace and quiet.

As far as roaming, though, absolutely not. You start off not leashed to anything, but if you try some shit once, you'll have your collar leashed up and tethered. During meetings, you obviously can't leave. And any roaming, really, would be breaking the "don't leave my line of sight" rule. Really, he gets upset even if you move around the room too much, prefers you stay still.

It's a stretch to call it lenience, but you go where he goes, so you do get some outings. Even if you don't want them, because again, you go where he goes.

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

Rules are simple actually, because a simple rule encompasses a lot. He tells you very plainly from the start: "Don't piss me off."

Of course, poor darling has to get some elaboration on that, so he sighs and groans but clarifies and it turns out there are, in fact, many rules. Do everything you are told, do it when he says it, and don't complain. Don't avoid him. Don't speak without permission. Don't backtalk him or give him an attitude. Stay within his sight at all times. Don't speak to anyone that's not him, and don't look them in the eye. Call him "Master." "Sir" will suffice occasionally. If he calls you over, don't take you time, you should move as fast as you can. ...He keeps going on for a while. This is, obviously, a much further extent than it initially seemed, but he doesn't seem to have much leniency, so you try to listen carefully.

Most importantly. You will take everything he has to give without fighting back, and at the end, you'll thank him. While saying this rule, he actually bothers to look up from his work and look you in the eye, and you know he's very serious about it.

For simple punishments, it's not so much that he intends to do horrible things, it's more that he gets into more or less a tantrum and gets so mad he lashes out on instinct without thinking it over. Expect a lot of simple beatings -- slapped in the face, some hair pulled out, a combination of both is common, where he just grabs you by the hair and smacks you around. Shoves you to the ground, kicks you while you're down there. Spits in your face. Chokes you on the collar, chokes you with his hand until you black out. He'll wait for you to recover on that last one, after all, you have to say your "thank you" at the end.

As aforementioned, escape attempts are a high-ranking offense, but not quite worth severely broken bones to him. However, this changes if they become repetitive. This is the fourth time now, so maybe you don't need that ankle too much.

However, the actual worst offense is trying to harm him or yourself. Hurt yourself, and you'll find yourself unable to. He'll make sure you come to appreciate life with him a little more, let's see how you like constant restraint, 24/7 bound and tied to a chair or the bed. This might also get a wrist or fingers broken, to prevent you from hurting yourself.

But raise a hand against the man and you'll genuinely, truly suffer. It's a combination, you get a little bit of everything, an all in one deal -- one offense, receive every type of punishment free! But if this happens again, he decides to do something a little more... permanent.

In order to reach this point, you'd have to be particularly bad for a pretty long streak of time. Repeated escapes, repeated attacks, repeated misbehavior, and you just don't seem to learn, so, he'll just have to remind you of your place, and he feels the best way to do that is leaving a mark. Oh, and probably the most physically traumatic experience of your life, that aspect will help it sink in.

He might not be able to do all of them with a respective vision, but that doesn't mean he can't just mark you in a few of the old-fashioned ways! In fact, you get the choice. That's part of the psychological torture of it all, having to pick and choose the details of your suffering, the way your heart pounds and the way you whimper and sob and the fact that you've never seen him look quite so giddy, as if high on the very notions of your pain. There's one he can do on his own, though. Have you ever seen the scars of someone who's been struck by lightning? They're pretty. He thinks something like that would look so nice etched out on your skin. Unfortunately you'd have to be shocked a couple of times for several seconds at a time to be permanent, but he'll give you something to bite down on if you'd like.

If you don't like that, he can brand you the old-fashioned way with a fire and iron. It would take a bit longer, and he'll very intentionally drag out the process. What kind of design do you want? There's a few. Do you want it on your front or your back? Left side or right? Chest, shoulders, hips? You should be grateful, he's here giving you options and you're just sitting there blubbering? If you don't hurry up and answer, he'll just have to give you more than one.

Or if both of those options aren't good enough, there's another alternative. Carving into you like a piece of meat. It could be his name, or a design, maybe. He could write it down your thigh. Across your stomach. On your chest. Don't worry, he's cut into enough people to know how to not to go too deep, just on the surface is enough to scar.

Speaking of not going to deep, notably, he will never actually do anything that puts your life at risk, or impacts your... health? Obviously the pain and scars aren't healthy, but to elaborate, he won't starve you, and he won't choke you beyond the point of blacking out. If he does cut you, it's with you so heavily restrained you cannot move in any capacity -- no chance of you thrashing and making it go too deep, gags you so you don't accidentally bite into your tongue and bleed out. He's actually... oddly vigilant about making sure he doesn't accidentally kill you.

He also won't isolate you, well, not physically. This is more for him than you, although he won't say so, he doesn't like you being physically out of his sight or away from him. Instead, he gives you... emotional isolation, tells you not to speak to him, pretends you're not there, won't respond to you calling out to him. It's actually a bit more hurtful in a way, but you'll never get the whole "locked alone in a room for a week without contact" punishment that some yanderes pull. He's too needy for that.

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

You see, it's your fault. Even if it isn't.

No, it really doesn't matter what you did or didn't do, it's still your fault that someone else shows you attention. You probably seduced them somehow, looked at them with those lustful eyes when he wasn't looking, or you held your body in a way that people would look at. So, it's ultimately your fault, and you will get punished for it, but although you are the root cause, you're not the worst offender -- the other party is still far, far worse.

Because by now anyone should know better. You'd have to be stupid or just have a death wish, because realistically everyone will look the other way if he quite literally kills a low-rank.

And to be fair, he might actually be wrong. He's actually really paranoid about this, and he takes the slightest of things and blows them out of proportion. Maybe that guy that he says looked at you the wrong way wasn't even looking at you at all. He imagines things and will definitely at some point accuse someone completely innocent of something they didn't do. Or he might be right, they did look at you, speak to you, but it was just a glance, just a simple question, but that doesn't matter. They still did it (and you, you probably encouraged it, didn't you?).

If you are the one saying it, though, complaining about sexual harassment from one of the guards or something, well, then he's more brutal, and doesn't hold anything back. He will, simply, kill them. No life-ruining, no framing for crimes, he's actually very direct and simple when it comes to rivalry because who needs indirect methods when you have enough status to just off the bastard?

Now, if it's someone from back home, a boyfriend or such that you keep whining about, because he doesn't know what happened to me! He's probably worried! Fine. He agrees to send people to inform him of what happened, he says, he promises he'll get them to tell him what happened to you, after all it's not like the guy could do anything about it. He feigns irritation at best, rolls his eyes, but inside it actually sets him off like nothing else. Eats him alive inside. He's right here and here you are droning on about some guy who doesn't matter? To his face?

Well, it's not as if he doesn't... understand why you're not exactly happy here. It's a dilemma that he has, which we'll touch on later, that he kinda does sometimes wish you were happy and did like him, but he also realizes that pretty much everything he does is counterproductive to that. Still, this is one of those times he wishes for it. Gets childishly pouty to anyone else interacting with him, in a bad mood all day because how dare you have someone else you care about. He wants you to show that kind of concern for him.

And, although it's even more counterproductive to the possibility of you ever liking him, he decides to do something very, very spiteful. He changes his mind and says actually, he'll arrange it so that you get to see the guy. Bites his tongue and twitches at how your face lights up, but then you you have the nerve to ask if he's joking. No, he says, he's serious, it'll take a while to fetch him though. It warms your heart. Maybe he has, you know, the capacity for empathy after all. When you get called over in a few days, because he says he has something for you, you think it's that, but no, it seems to be something else. You've been good, he says, so he got you something.

A gift, in a box and everything. Go on, open it. He got it just for you. It was hard to obtain, there's only one in the world. Oh, but sit down first. You might pass out from excitement.

You don't like the happy look on his face, the light-hearted tone in his voice, it's all too uncharacteristic, and you run through possibilities, none of them good. You pick it up and you're fairly certain you know, you shake a little bit and tears start to fill your eyes, and you really don't want to open the box, but at the same time, you have to know.

He's smart about it, and takes your well-being into account, because he cares, you know? That's why he got you to sit down, if you'd been standing, see, you would have passed out and fallen and maybe hurt yourself. This way you just slump over and drop the box when you black out. That was somewhat expected, most people pass out when they see the disembodied head of a loved one, and you're no exception. You got blood on the floor when you drop it, but it was worth seeing the look on your face. Alright, well, you got what you wanted, you got to see him. See? He wasn't lying, he followed through on the promise.

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

Very, very easy to piss off. You often do it so unintentionally, without even knowing that the action is something that will set him off, that the reactions catch you off-guard. The actual anger varies depending on his mood that day -- some days, it's just snarling and berating, looking at you with disgust and barking at you about how stupid you are, threatening you with this or that, ultimately forcing you to apologize just to get him to leave you alone and stop being mean. He likes to feel above you, so a lot of the time he'll say something isn't worth his time getting truly angry over, and wave his hand after a few minutes and tell you to not speak to him again until he says you can. Other times, if he's in an especially bad mood, he can get kinda physically violent, throwing things, grabbing you by the hair or clothes to get in your face, pulling your hair, kneeing you in the stomach.

He can be incredibly childish and immature about offenses -- even long after the loud and explosive angry tantrum is over, he'll be passive-aggressive for a while, and is incapable of just letting it go. He brings it up over, and over, and over, like an actual child that wants to wallow in bitterness and make you feel sorry for him. This is less of an active anger, it's more pouty, but still spoken with narrowed eyes and a disgusted glare.

Also, when he's exceptionally angry, it's one of the few times he might act... not so. When he gets furious, for a few moments he'll snap into the "fake" personality we've seen in him -- smiles and laughs a bit, begins his sentence with a light hearted, saccharine tone that, by now, you know means you have severely fucked up, and you tremble and step backwards. You cower, but he grabs you by the hair, shirt, chin, anything, and his voice gets lower and lower, the smile slowly drops, until he just explodes, furiously snarling at you and pulls your hair, backhands you a few times, shoves you to the ground, before dragging you away by the hair or the shirt to go over your real punishment.

Now, there's anger, and then there's rage. He gets mad easily. He blows up, he yells, he does his little transition from smiley to mad, but if he's at the absolute upper limit of anger, he gets surprisingly... quiet. Quiet and calm. It's actually unlikely that this anger will ever be directed towards darling, as there's not really anything you can do to make him this upset. If you witness it, it's likely in the form of someone else trying to hurt you, or the aforementioned rivals. And that's an insult to him, you know? You're his property. It makes him completely blind with rage. And, the unspoken aspect of it, is that if someone is genuinely after you, the idea of you being killed or taken away terrifies him because he needs you, deep down.

This rare rage, again, (seemingly) calm and quiet, is very straightforward. The offender is staked to the ground straight through, don't worry, he can do it without hitting internal organs. And then, well, tortured to death. He's an expert in the art of pushing the limits of keeping a human being alive as long as possible. Oh, don't go anywhere. He'd like you to watch. If it's someone trying to hurt you, well, they deserve to see the reason they're dying, and if it's someone you gave your attention or affection to, he wants you to see the consequences of your choices on others, remember, it's your fault this happened, you likely enticed them. If it's that, he'll make sure you're involved. Give you choices. What would you like to see go first, a finger or the tongue?

Another little quirk is that he always has to express anger physically, even when he knows not to -- which isn't too often, but sometimes he has to accept that subordinates will be stupid and that he can't always kick them in the face for it. So when he's just in a bad mood, he gets twitchy from the need to exert physical violence. Grabs at the edge of the table with trembly hands, breaks writing utensils in half, pulls at his hair and digs his fingernails into his arms. Once you're there, though, he can take out the anger on you, unfortunately, like a living stress ball. When it's anger at other people, though, he tends to take that anger out not by hurting you, but rather, finds... other rough ways to expend some energy and exert some physical force.

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

What do you think?

Yeah, there's not a whole lot to say here. He's a massive narcissist, everyone is beneath him. However... notably, although he wouldn't say it out loud, he still sees you as being above other people, even though that in and of itself is a narcissistic thought process -- you have value, because you have value to him. You are important because he has deemed you important. And other people, he has deemed unimportant, worthless. You have worth... because he's decided you do. Because he has the utmost worth, so, he's just bestowing some of his own worth on you -- it's an act of benevolence, really.

And, well, as you can imagine, this attitude is very much reflected in his behavior. And, one way or another, itwill be reflected in your behavior, too.

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

You might be surprised, but he actually... does try.

For someone who essentially makes your life hell, there are times where his mind starts thinking and drifting off because of some boring meeting or the like, or he's watching you go about whatever you're doing and thinks... you know, maybe it would be nice if you actually liked him. The first few times, he quickly shoves away the thought, but it starts popping into his head every now and then. Maybe the worship would be a lot better if you had adoration in your eyes instead of fear and tears. Honestly, it's still selfishly motivated, because he just thinks of how it would benefit him if you loved him, but he starts to like the idea nonetheless. And he can think of a way to make it happen. If he becomes determined to carry this out, it would be a little while into the "relationship," maybe a year or so.

He knows it won't come naturally. You need help. So, mindbreak it is.

It's not as if you're not already well on your way to mindbreak with the general way he already is, but there are certainly some things to be done that can speed up the process. Ultimately, the key to breaking you into loving him is making you need him, to make you think he's better than others, and to balance out the cruelties. The way to do this is to make you terrified of everything else, and present himself as a protection from that.

He'll arrange for accidents to occur that he can save you from -- gets an underling to pretend to break in and abduct you or the like so he can chase them off, sets a trap that nearly hurts you only to snatch you away from it.

The second tactic is to make himself seem better than your alternatives. He'll find a way -- it goes without saying he's not the only harbinger with a toy. He exaggerates how awful the others' are -- you know, that one's little toy has no arms or legs, they ripped them off. Bet you're glad he hasn't done that to you, huh? And that one only feeds their pet once a week, you get to eat normal meals every day. He finds ways to make it believable, maybe even get the others to support his claims (they gotta help each other out, you know?). You start to feel like maybe you should be a little more grateful.

And finally, it doesn't come easy but... he decides he can maybe (maybe! Don't you go getting used to this, you know) ...be nice. A word of praise here or there. The first time you hear a word of praise, you think you've gone insane, look up at him with wide eyes, and he just what, you want me to *not* say that? and you insist no no it's fine, it's fine! And as much as you wish it didn't, it makes you feel... warm inside. Good. You feel like you want more.

At the same time, you know what that means -- it's not hard to figure out that it's intentional, really, you know that, and he knows you know. You know why he's doing this. You know what the intended outcome is, and that you're falling for it perfectly. You know that your internal response means you're beginning to slip, to lose it, but... maybe that wouldn't be so bad. To put up a fight, to resist it? What good does that do, really? Your pride is already shattered and you're just going to make yourself more miserable.

Yes, if you let it happen, maybe you will finally be at ease. Resistance just makes things worse. So maybe acceptance will make things better. Maybe if you start working for the niceness and avoiding the meanness, trying to be good, trying to earn the niceness... maybe it would make you... happy. Maybe you really can love him. So eventually... you'll let go.

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

He does love you, in his own way, but it's impossible for you to understand. This is where we get into the idea of sadism as love. True sadistic love is a rare thing even in yandere, and it's difficult to describe - for him, the degree of cruelty bestowed unto you IS, in a way, his way of "love." He has no idea how to express affection any other way, but it is, genuinely, caused by affection, even though he himself doesn't quite realize it, doesn't quite understand the feeling that's making him want to hurt you. Sure, his cruelty is partially a defense mechanism, a little bit of that tsundere side, but it's also something innate, instinctive. The natural reaction to the feeling of fondness is to hurt the object of that fondness. When he becomes fond of a person, he wants to harm them. He can't say why, and he doesn't exactly care why. He thinks you look pretty when you cry. When your face twists up in pain and your lip trembles, that's your most beautiful. It makes him feel powerful. In the same way a lot of people feel powerful over making their beloved cum or feel pleasure, that's how he is with pain. Well, he likes to inflict both actually, preferably at the same time.

To truly, completely own you means to be your whole world -- responsible for every bit of pleasure, pain, happiness, misery, he wants to be the cause of all of those things. Other people hurting you and making you cry makes him just as mad as other people making you smile or feel happy. They're both the same offense -- they're both trying to take away some of that ownership, some of that power. While he might utilize others harming you to his benefit, it still makes his blood boil -- not just in a "you're hurting someone I love" way, but in a "I'm the only one supposed to hurt them" way.

============================

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

It changes gradually with time. At first, surprisingly somewhat reserved, and even more easily embarrassed, gets red in the face and shifts uncomfortably over certain topics. Doesn't mean he won't fuck you, but will be kind of cold and distant about it at first, not saying much, too embarrassed to call you nasty names and say degrading things.

(Un)fortunately for you, that changes pretty quickly, as the more confident and used to you he becomes, the more he's willing to indulge in the things that sound so nice in his head. Ok, so maybe the collar is a fetish thing, which you accused him of at the very beginning but he adamantly denied. So what? You clearly get off to it, so don't go around calling him a pervert for it.

He's in this odd middle ground where once he's actually horny and initiating it, he can get gross, and is very touchy almost all the time, but if sex comes up as a conversational topic when it's not actually occurring, he gets flustered about it, especially if you're the one to bring it up. Outside of specifically you, it's an absolute no. He's the kind of person to get outwardly disgusted at the slightest mention of the most vanilla and hand-hold-y of sexual things, or even just retch when seeing people get non-sexually romantic and loving, when hearing it from other people and tell them to shut up or get out of his sight, but at the same time is having you on a collar and leash in a workplace setting and forcing everyone around him to just tolerate that. Don't question it.

That being said, the "actually horny and initiating it" part is a frequent occurrence -- for someone who seems somewhat reserved, it's still incredibly often, almost always several times a day, and that's just actual intercourse, not counting all of the little degrading acts and words throughout the day. You'll be sore for sure.

And the touchiness is honestly partially neediness. He's touch-starved. Half the time, sure it's sexual, but it's also... nice. You're warm. Feeling your skin is comforting. He won't say that it's partially non-sexual, but sometimes will, without even consciously realize it, rest his head on your shoulder when you're sitting in his lap or the like.

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

It's better without, actually.

Of course, over time you'll learn better -- you'll learn you were just being stubborn at the time, that you should have been grateful, that it was what you wanted deep down -- but at the time, your fear is cute too.

That being said, once you reach the mindbroken state -- once you're enthusiastic, love in your eyes, bouncing up and down on his cock and thanking him for every second of it -- he has to admit that's pretty nice, too. He can enjoy it either way in the end -- whether you have that adoration and willingness, or if you don't.

The only thing he won't tolerate is if you pull the silent treatment -- trying to stay silent and now show anything on your face in an attempt to not give him the satisfaction of your reactions. Which is easily fixable. It's really not a good idea for you, because it will just make him worse in order to finally draw out some sounds.

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

Orgasm denial/control/ruining

It's humiliating and funny at the same time, nice. But seriously, he likes to make you beg. It's nice to see you accept your place and do what you're supposed to, to openly acknowledge how little control you have.

And denial is great too, especially combined with edging. After a few days of the torture of not getting to cum, you'll finally be willing to throw your pride away and truly, truly beg, offering to do anything, and words spilling out of your mouth unprompted that you think he'd like to hear, and that's the best part, seeing the filthy things your mind can come up with to appease him enough to let you cum -- and they will be brought up later. Hey, remember when you said you would do this or that when you were begging to cum? About time to follow through right?

But if you haven't been so great, there's one thing better. Getting your hopes up and just barely letting you reach the high before pulling away completely. Your little eyes widen and you spasm and you rock your body in a desperate attempt for friction and sensation, but you're held down as the orgasm dies before ever reaching a peak. Sometimes you get so miserable about it you cry, which isn't great as it just fuels the desire to ruin it again.

And if you're so desperate to get off at any time, once you've been edged a few days, you can earn permission to either ride his thigh or get on the floor and rut into his leg until you cum. No using your hands. If you can't get off to humping like that, you don't get off. And be sure to thank him for the graciousness of allowing you to do so.

Public Humiliation

Once he gets more confident, he tells you you're going to start coming to meetings with him. He hates leaving you alone with guards he doesn't fully trust, so you'll just go too. At first you're ecstatic. This means you can finally get out of the lingerie and into real clothes, right?

And then you see the look on his face and realize what's actually happening, and it makes your blood run cold. You can fight it, but in the end you're going to be dragged by a leash in front of a room full of people on your hands and knees. If you've been relatively bad, you'll just sit at his feet, but if you're good, you get to sit up on his lap, nice and pretty so that everyone can see. He's just too possessive enough that you won't go naked, but the clothing of choice will certainly not be something you would ever, ever want to be seen in.

Oh, they give out water at these meetings. He grabs your chin and tells you he'll let you have some if you open your mouth, and you're thirsty so you do -- so he takes a swig of it and spits it into your mouth. And if you want any more, you'll have to take it the same way.

People are watching -- and you know people are watching. He's still slightly too awkward to want to be the center of attention (let's be real, there's probably fucked up things going on all over these meetings, others probably bring theirs too), but people cast glances, people smirk and chuckle at your humiliation and misery. And people envy him. You're so cute. He knows that, and he loves the power rush that comes with that knowledge. And you? Well, you don't want to throw a fit or cry in front of people -- not only would it be humiliating, but you fear the consequences, so you sit and squirm and whimper.

He's not one to start talking to others so much, though. Some yans into publicly humiliating you will make a spectacle of it, talking to the others and verbally, loudly showing you off, jeering at you and talking about you like you can't understand them (example being a certain hydro likely in the same room), but, well, honestly he just doesn't like the others well enough to speak with them unless necessary to begin with, so he actually just kind of glares and snarls at anyone that tries to interact. Again, not the center of attention, he prefers to remain a little more in the background, talking to you, soaking up your misery and beaming with pride over the glances people cast.

D/S dynamic - master/slave + petplay + humiliation + worship

If we're being honest it's more of a "this is your life now" than a dynamic. It's not that you pretend to be or act as a slave, you are one. And it's better if you accept that, really. No matter what, you say thank you after everything you get, be it rewards, punishment, anything really. And he likes to go out of his way to test the limits of that. See how far he can break down your pride before you refuse to give your proper thanks, so that he knows the limit of where he needs to start breaking you down more.

And it's whenever, wherever -- you're free use, basically, but also just tests your obedience and submission by random acts of sadism. Calls you over and tells you to get on your hands and knees so he can use you as a footrest, and you'll stay that way for a while. Grabs your jaw and tells you to open your mouth at complete random to spit in your mouth and tells you to swallow. After you grind on his leg until you cum as aforementioned, you got gross slick all over his shoes and the floor, so lick it up. Smiles at you and tells you hey, come here a sec and gives you a good backhand across the face. And what do you say? You know the answer - thank you Master. Is any of it necessary? No. But he enjoys it. It reminds you of your place, and your thanks is a measure to prove your loyalty. And he's not heartless, he'll tell you you're good for it. You start to look forward to that.

But the leash is another thing -- it ties onto your collar and he uses it to make sure you can't go too far. More importantly, uses it to pull you around and tells you good pets don't walk on two legs, they walk on four -- so you'll do the same and crawl on your hands and knees whenever he feels like it.

But worship is the best thing, really. As much as he likes doing things to you, you should be eager to show your love and gratefulness, too, which in his mind comes mostly in the form of riding him until your legs give out and deepthroating cock until you nearly black out. It would be much appreciated.

Anal sex + throatfucking

If we're being honest, it's just cute to watch you squeal and squirm. You whimper because it hurts, it feels weird in a way you're not used to, and when he cums inside your poor ass you can physically feel it and it feels so, so gross, leaking out and running down your legs. But it's better if it's by surprise, switching holes when you're not expecting it and listening to you squeak and jolt and try to pull yourself off, to listen to you beg and plead. It's adorable, really. And it makes for a good punishment that will definitely get you to behave if getting your poor ass stretched out is the threat you're dealing with. It's all cute, how you can't stand up to walk after, how you twitch and cry, and it's better if you can cum while he's fucking you because then that means you clearly enjoy it.

And your throat, too, watching your eyes tear up and feeling your throat instinctively spasm as your gag reflex kicks in. It goes pretty far down your throat, you definitely can't breathe, so you grab at his thighs and desperately try to pull off, but to no avail. And he likes making threats out of that too - when he cums down your throat, if you spill so much as a single drop of it, you won't be able to sit right for a week.

It's also nice to combine the two -- telling you so make sure you suck good and get it coated in your spit, because it's the only lube you're going to get. You have the most adorable reaction, eyes widening with fear and immediately getting to work on making sure you follow through.

Cockwarming

Eventually, as he gets more used to your presence in his workspace, and you've proven you know how to sit still without being an obnoxious nuisance, he'll decide you can help him alleviate boredom on days where there's not much to be done other than papers and the occasional subordinate coming in to be spoken to. Good thing the desk you sit at has a front to it. You're either down on your knees with cock in your mouth, or more often just sitting on his lap. The thing is that if it's that, you're dealing with cock inside you the entire time. Don't think about squirming around, it earns you a slap to the thigh and being told to stop moving so much. Are you really such an insatiable slut that you can't hold still just because you're that desperate to get off? Maybe if there's no one around you can get railed into the desk, but that doesn't mean you get to take it out -- you'll go right back so sitting the way you were before.

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

Eh, he kinda goes both ways, back and forth. The issue is that the side that thinks he might want a kid is entirely delusional, he has absolutely no idea how difficult or involved having a kid actually is, he just thinks of some... creature he thinks he can copy+paste his ideals and values and worldview onto, like a protege, an heir. Another thing is he somehow does not realize why combining himself and a child with a copy+paste personality is a recipe for disaster. Honestly, he would NOT be a good father, you would be doing 99.99% of the work while he just occasionally trains them and other stuff that he actually likes doing... the rest would be your job. So, realistically, you should hope and pray he doesn't decide he wants one.

Which is unlikely, because he also realizes that kids are a distraction, time consumption, they take up your time and attention and energy. Your time and attention and energy are essentially his property, because you are, so why would he willingly give that up? No, he's not about to watch you tire yourself out over some stupid kid and have none for him, you'd probably use tiredness as an excuse to not fuck or something, can't have that. It's... not like he likes your attention or anything... it's just that he deserves all of it and no one else does.

That being said, he is a key member of the "what the fuck is protection" club, so, it might happen anyway.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

A better question would be what kind does he NOT use. The full spectrum of ideas is there, he mockingly kinda takes pride in the creativity. He prefers some to others, though. Less frequent ones include overstimulation and sexualization of electro torture -- light shocks to the most sensitive parts of your body, it's more fun the second time and onwards, because you tremble in fearful anticipation, desperately try to squirm away.

More frequently is just, well, the classic way, beating your ass. It's easy, quick, humiliating, and it proves a point. Spankings are incredibly common for the slightest of offenses, beating you red and raw for a defiant look or a word out of place. If you whine that it's unfair because what you did wasn't that bad, well, that just adds on more. He's the type to keep something laying around, invest in a rubber paddle or a leather strap and keep it somewhere visible, somewhere you can see it, as just a constant reminder, a threat looming over your head.

And as aforementioned, another frequent one is the threat of fucking your throat or ass or both. It leaves you sore for a long time, the taste of cum down your throat, the feeling of cum leaking out of your holes, not to mention the discomfort of the sensations themselves, potentially pain, if done roughly -- and you do not want him to be rough about it, so, be on your best behavior.

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

Tits, but more specifically nipples. They're so sensitive. If he touches or sucks on them you squirm and moan, but if he pinches and pulls them or bites down on them hard enough, it makes you jolt and squeal, and that's a very nice reaction, really.

Also, nipple clamps. He makes heavy use of them and will also tug on it pretty harshly to get your attention.

===========================

#atml #yandere genshin impact

727 notes · View notes

derryqueenx · 2 years

Note

strangling, dan/jones.

jones has some past trauma from getting strangled (leaving the details up to you) and dan, unaware of this, puts his hand around jones' throat (either in a heated moment during an argument or maybe he's trying to be a bit 'rough' in bed without properly discussing it first - let's face it dan is not the best in either impulse control or communication). jones naturally freaks out as soon as dan touches his throat.

Strangling.

Word Count: 2286

TW: Swearing, mentions/light descriptions of sex, mention of past light noncon - hey fam this one is probably NSFW as there is a BRIEF sex scene. BRIEF.

There’s only 3 prompts left for submission!! Send them in and let’s finish this bad boy!!

Send through your prompts and any Noel/Julian related characters (if you have one in mind! If not I’ll just write whatever I feel works best for said prompt)! The Free Prompt square is if you want me to write a fic based on something that’s not already written! You can send them in and just say it’s for the ‘free prompt’ bingo. Let’s cause our favourite characters some hurt (with small comfort. I’m not a monster.) blue = already submitted

“Get the fuck out!”

“Jones, come on, don’t be like that – I said I was sorry..”

“Out!”

“It was an accident! I didn’t realize how rough I was being..”

“I don’t want shit to do with you anymore, you got that?”

“Baby, come on… You don’t mean that.”

“Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Hey.” Jones appeared in the doorway to Dan’s room, headphones pulled down to around his neck as he leant against the doorframe in a casual manner, but his eyes showing he had a real intent for being here beside boredom.

“Hey.” Dan responded back, glancing up from his laptop and his article as he leant back in his chair, studying Jones and waiting for the other man to give in and explain his purpose.

Shouldn’t be much longer now. Jones only ever has patience for one thing, and that’s Dan’s bullshit. But Dan wasn’t on his bullshit right now, so he’d break any second..

“Wanna fuck?” Jones asked simply, expression never faltering from one as if speaking to a mate he’d seen crossing the street.

Dan chuckled lightheartedly to himself, shocked in himself somewhat that he didn’t guess what Jones wanted in advance. “Can you wait 10 minutes?”

Jones pouted for a moment, never good at being told ‘no’ or to ‘wait’, before a small smirk appeared. He bit down into his bottom lip in a way he knew Dan very much appreciated, eyeing him off as he looked him up and down. “Can you?” He retorted, his hand coming down to palm at his own crotch as he teased Dan with the silent possibilities of what they could be getting up to right now instead of talking. And he had a point… Just that action alone was enough for shockwaves to travel down to Dan’s own crotch, lighting a fire within him that would have been non-existent only mere seconds ago, and when he gets like this there is no chance in hell that Dan can wait 10 minutes.

“You’re a tart, you know that?” Dan shot at him, already standing from his chair as he shut his laptop urgently, adjusting the ever-shrinking sensation in his pants as Jones only looked back at him with a very pleased and proud expression, nearly chuckling with enthusiasm like a child at a theme park.

“Yeah yeah, you can tell me all about it when you’re fucking my brains out.” Jones dismissed, skipping into the room and towards the bed, his shirt already disposed of at some point along the way as he began fiddling with his zipper.

Dan met him there immediately, wasting no time in assisting Jones in the removal of his clothes. This wasn’t rare for them, if anything it was becoming more of the norm. They weren’t dating, but they weren’t ‘just friends’ either. They were in a weird limbo where they didn’t have a label, but neither of them would also never dare hooking up with anyone else as that would be considered cheating by this stage. But the one thing they were certain with, was they had great sex.

“I said to stop!”

“ I just got carried away is all, It wasn’t even that bad!”

“I couldn’t breathe!”

“I already apologized for it, what else do you want?!”

“I want you to get out!”

Dan and Jones had done this enough times to know what the other liked, and luckily enough for them, they both liked it rough. Dan loved being in charge – he spent most of his days being bossed around by idiots and generally had a lot of built up anger and frustration that he needed some way to dispose of it without punching holes in the wall, and Jones was so jittery and distracted that he needed a moment to be reminded to clear his mind and just let someone else take over. It worked well.

What also worked well was what they got up to in bed.

A bedside table filled with toys and gadgets they rotated through, some scarves under the bed for emergencies, and markings on the wall from when they got a bit carried away – they blended well together.

However, of all the things that they love to do together, the discovered by way of communication – Jones told Dan what he’d done with previous boyfriends that he’d liked, and Dan told Jones thing he saw on porn that he wanted to try.

Now in comes the main problem with that method. Dan’s never been great with communication.

On the rare occasions that Dan got a bit carried away and attempted something they had previously discussed, he’d been very lucky in the fact that Jones was also very into it and had no problems with Dan’s sudden kink for the night, but Dan knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped up and ruined everything.

“Fuck Jones- so tight, baby.”

“Harder!”

“Harder?” Dan questioned with purpose, his brain ticking over with ideas already.

“Yes! Please!” Jones was already a mess underneath him. They’d been going at it for close to an hour by this point and both of them were ready for release.

Unfortunately, Dan always finds the best way to reach his release is complete and utter dominance, so without thinking with his brain and allowing his lower region to take over instead, his hand shot up to Jones throat, squeezing and applying enough pressure to vaguely cut off the other man’s oxygen in an attempt to do exactly what Jones had asked and got rougher. But as soon as his hand clamped around the smaller man’s neck, Jones eyes shot open, his body tensing for only a split second before suddenly jerked his entire body in one motion, his elbow shooting up and colliding into the underside of Dan’s jaw in the process as he began scrambling and pushing Dan away like he’d just been burned.

“Oof!” Dan cried out when Jones connected with him.

“No! No no no no no-“ he rambled, scurrying himself away from under Dan’s body until they were no longer entwined, and Dan barely even had a moment to think or register what was happening before Jones shot off the bed, sprinting into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him, leaving a startled, shocked, confused, naked and still very much aroused Dan in his wake, unmoved.

“Uh… Jones?” He spoke out the empty room, looking around in confusion as if he were being pranked and waiting for the big reveal. When no Jones or cameraman came out laughing at him, he finally got his body to move, overcoming the shock just enough to make his way to the bathroom door, rubbing his jaw in the process.. “Jones? What the hell?” He questioned a little bitterly at the fact he’d just been left in the heat of the moment, unfulfilled. He knocked a few times to get the man’s attention when he didn’t answer. “Dude! You asked me for a fuck, remember? Are you seriously just going to up and leave like that?” When he yet again didn’t receive a response, he banged the door a little harder for emphasis. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped a line or somethi-“

Suddenly the door swung open once again, revealing a sheepish and concerned looking Jones in the door way, who was just as naked as Dan was which was rather distracting for the other man. “Is your face okay?” He asked instantaneously, much to Dans surprise.

“What?” He questioned, taken aback by the sudden reemergence of his flat mate. He was honestly expecting a bit more of a fight, or more of the silence treatment. “Oh. Yeah, nothing some frozen peas won’t fix.” He noticed the way Jones looked ashamed by that. “Wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

Jones let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat like a huge secret had been exposed. “I just-I have a thing with… choking, I guess.”

Dan scoffed. “Yeah no shit.” He spat out before he had a moment to contemplate what he was saying, immediately biting back the rest of his statement before making the situation worse a she noticed how small Jones was trying to make himself right now – the exact opposite of his usual sunshine behavior. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. Even though he and Jones had been… something for a while now, and living together even longer than that, they still hardly, if ever, had serious conversations. Especially one in the midst of sex.

Dan glanced around the room for something to help ease the tension, his eyes settling on the bed however shockingly, even more so to him, he didn’t think about just ignoring the outburst and carrying on as they were. He was thinking about the best way to make Jones feel more comfortable.

Oh god this is definitely more than friends concerns. He thought to himself, before looking back at his ‘friend’. “Uh, wanna tell me about it?” He tried again, this time opening up his body to motion towards the bed, signaling that if Jones wanted to he was happy to talk about this more with him.

Jones flashed him a small yet grateful smile, walking past Dan and sitting himself down on the edge of the bed where Dan met him not long after. “Remember Nicky?”

“The guy who lived here before me? Your ex?”

Jones nodded. “Yeah, well, you know how I told you it didn’t end well?”

“Mhmm. You kicked him out.” Dan clarified.

“Yeah. I kicked him out cause we had an… incident.”

Dan raised an eyebrow at him curiously, a little bit of concern and caution starting to creep in. “What kind of incident?”

Jones let out a loud sigh, preparing himself. “Me and him didn’t talk like we do about what we like and shit. We just did whatever we felt like doing at the time and I was totally fine with most things – still am, clearly.” He added for good measure, implicating to all the ‘adventures’ that he and Dan had gotten up to themselves. “But one day he was just in a mood, I guess, some shit from work, I don’t know- but when we were together that night having fun, I was tied up as usual, but then he just grabbed my throat in the moment and at first it was fine, but then he gripped too hard and I couldn’t breathe. I said our safe word, but he didn’t stop. I tried to get him to but he wasn’t listening.. just keep fucking and squeezing until eventually I nearly passed out. The only reason I didn’t was cause he finished just in time. Lucky timing and all.” He ended with an attempt at a chuckle to lighten the mood, but when he looked over at Dan’s face it showed it obviously didn’t work.

Dan looked just about ready to murder someone. He had all the tell-tale signs of Dan when he’s spent too long having to deal with the morons on a daily basis, except upped tenfold. “He fucking what?”

“Like, it’s in the past and all, and when I say it out loud it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, but it just really messed with me, you know? It was pretty scary for a moment, and I just don’t think I’m ready for that again…” Jones bit into his lip nervously, like he was waiting for Dan to argue with him or say he was over-reacting.

But Dan quickly shut that down. “Hey, your Jones, yeah? You never have to apologize for anything. I’m the screwup in this relationship, not you, so don’t be trying to take my role, okay?” Jones let out a breathy laugh – a genuine one this time. “As for what happened tonight, I fucked up. I should have asked beforehand, and I swear I won’t do it again. Ever.” He placed a hand on Jones knee comfortingly, locking eyes with the smaller man. “I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

“I’m sorry I elbowed you in the jaw.” Jones replied lightheartedly. “And ran away from you while you were bottoming out.”

“Well, that’s an easy fix.” Dan responded simply with a shrug. “As for Nicky though – do I need to send Ned and Rufus to his house to annoy him to death? Me beating him up is always an option too, I just feel that one might not be as effective. Although, definitely more rewarding.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to find him to be honest, but if I do I’ll let you know.” Jones joked back, nudging his shoulder into Dan’s playfully. “Now, where were we?” Jones started crawling back onto the bed, never breaking his gaze from Dan as he did so until he was resting up against the back wall, legs spread and welcome for Dan to devour.

“You might be worse than I am with your horniness levels, Jones.” Dan retorted, however if he actions of crawling slowly back up Jones’ body was anything to go by, he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Well can you blame me? Dan Ashcroft just said we were in a relationship.” Jones teased with a smirk.

Dan immediately felt the redness spread across his face at being caught out. He did say that… It had accidently just slipped out, it wasn’t intentional. But… he didn’t hate it.

Jones didn’t seem to hate it.

Something about it just felt right.

“Hmmm, seems you’re stuck with me now.” He replied with the same playful manner, planting soft kisses up Jones’ neck as the other man hummed out beneath him.

“That’s perfectly fine by me.”

YO anon this prompt was so much fun to write! I think i love writing dan/jones now??? I get to swear more which is great my aussie-ness. we replace every second word with a profanity so woo for more swearing!

#hurt bingo #fic bingo #noel fielding #julian barratt #aooo #fanfic #the mighty boosh #boosh #angst #whump #nathan barley #jones #dan ashcroft #archive of our own #fanfiction #britcom

12 notes · View notes