#implied drugging
Note
ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol
i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.
Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-
Part one
(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))
Top of the Food Chain pt2
Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader
Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.
You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.
Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.
It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.
The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.
That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.
Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.
"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."
At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.
"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"
At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.
Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.
You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.
There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.
"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."
"Hurt?" he asks.
To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.
A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.
He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.
"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.
"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.
When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.
"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.
Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.
"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.
"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.
He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?
For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.
And then, you feel weightless.
It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.
When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.
"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.
You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.
When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.
Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.
"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."
If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.
"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.
Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.
Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.
You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.
"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.
Blue, almost glowing.
"But no more leave."
You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.
The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.
"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."
#yandere#yandere jjk#dark content#dark gojo satoru#dark jjk#non con touching#implied drugging#yandere gojo satoru#yandere geto suguru#dark geto suguru#naga au#naga gojo satoru#naga geto suguru#language barriers#polygamous relationship#yandere satosugu
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cw pet whump, implied drugging, intimate whumper, conditioned whumpee, slightly suggestive
"What did you wish for this Christmas, kitten?" Whumper asked, loosening their tie. They were still fully dressed in their work clothes, while their pet was wearing soft, holiday themed pajamas.
They gave Whumper a sweet smile from their place on the couch, holding a mug of hot chocolate. "Snow."
Whumper chuckled, pulling off their tie and kicking off their shoes before joining Whumpee on the couch. "That's precious, honey. Well, it might not get that cold, but—" They pulled a small bag from their jacket pocket and held it up for their pet to see. "Close enough."
Whumpee made a soft noise of disagreement, holding their hot chocolate closer as though it would keep them safe. "Please, Master, you know I don't like that."
"You said you wanted snow, hm?" Whumper teased, reaching out to stroke Whumpee's hair. "Besides, I like how it makes you. I like seeing you all spacey, not worrying like you do all the time. I like when you're easy."
Whumpee looked up at them through their lashes. "Can we watch a Christmas movie first? And cuddle?"
The smirk on Whumper's face was replaced with a more earnest smile, and they kissed Whumpee's cheek. "Of course, kitten. We can make some cookies, too, if you want."
"Yes, please," Whumpee said, face lighting up. "And more hot chocolate?"
"Sure, honey," Whumper agreed. "It is Christmas Eve, after all."
#whump#whumpblr#whump writing#pet whump#christmas whump#intimate whumper#implied drugging#conditioned whumpee#soft whump#noncon drugging#suggestive#whumper x whumpee#requests open#snippet
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Just sleeping pills and some of my extra "love" <3
#yandere#lovesick#yancore#yanderecore#manga cap#yandere aesthetic#yandere boy#yandere male#male yandere#welcome to the yandere cafe#implied drugging#your yandere#manga#manga screencap
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Insomniac!Darling: hey what are these pills for
Yandere, eyeing your drink:
#implied drugging#drugging tw#forced drugging#tw drugging#drugging mention#noncon drugging#drugging cw#yandere x reader
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Didn’t Mind It
Cw: isolation, starvation, restraints, dehydration, vague implications of drugging
Whumpee didn’t actually mind the first few days alone.
The first eighty-something hours were quiet. Still. Not necessarily peaceful, but almost serene, in the same sense one might strike as they are faced with an inescapable death. The foreboding of tranquility during the fall as the ground rushes closer.
Eventually the gnarling twists of hunger in their gut turned to soft, occasional aches. The throbbing behind their eyes eased into a slow pulse. There was a point where they became so used to the dryness in their throat, the metallic taste that coated their tongue like sandpaper where they stopped noticing it. At some time they had gotten so used to the cold, the damp air that they stopped shivering. Grown used to the heavy weights of cuffs shackles around each wrist, ankle, they were almost able to lift their arms.
They’d gotten used to it. To the quiet so thick the only thing they could hear was the occasional creak of a pipe in the ceiling above, the frigid air that leaked slowly from the vent in the corner, the sound of their own thoughts spiraling until eventually falling silent. They had never heard the quiet so loud. It pressed against them, a weight draped around their entire body, once that once had made their skin crawl in its confining suffocation, but now was almost comforting. In a sense.
For a while they’d begged to be let out. Maybe the first hour or two. They had longed for freedom for the first day, tugged at the shackles until their wrists were raw and bleeding. Then they had settled down, soothed into a stupor of silence by the low whispers of the vent and the faint hints of sweetness in the air. It made their thoughts heavy, lulling them until they slipped away.
They didn’t mind it so much anymore.
#whump#whumpblr#whump community#whump writing#its me coal#coal wrote something#whumpee#whump challenge#ailess whumptober#ailesswhumptober2023#ailesswhumptoberday3#ai less whumptober#ailess whumptober day 3#isolation#solitary confinement#implied drugging#whump scene#whumptober
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👉👈
#Not any specific ocs#Kinda scared to post#whump#whumpblr#Drugging#my art#art#whump art#whump comic#Whumpee#caretaker#drug whump#implied drugging#tw drugging
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Drabble: Eat Your Heart Out
UH... yeah I had a rough week and decided to take it out on a nameless whumpee. Enjoy! this is REALLY FUCKED please heed warnings
CW: Autocannbalism!!!!!, GORE!!!!, Sadistic whumper, implied drugging, restraints, scapels, ummm medical whump?? kinda?? maybe?? idk?? general fuckedupness of my drabbles I guess.
__
They were strapped down, wrists, ankles, knees, waist, neck and forehead all held by soft leather straps. The irony of it was that whumpee wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. They just wanted to be able to move. But everything seemed fuzzy, they tried to remember why they were here, but couldn’t quite paint a clear picture. They had been walking to their car.. and then everything went black. Now they laid here, staring at an artificial light that seemed all too bright.
Everything was too bright and the smell of cleaning supplies burned their nose. It wasn’t enough to wake them from the dreamlike state they were in. It was all a bit too unreal for them to truly register. They closed their eyes for a second and when they opened them again, someone stood over them.
“Hello Whumpee. Remember me?”
Whumpee thought hard and forgetting their restraints tried to shake their head.
“Oh that’s okay darling, I figured it would be hard for you. You and I met a long time ago. Once. You said that you would wait for me.” Whumper moved from Whumpee’s line of sight and they tried desperately to remember what they were talking about. The thoughts in their mind moved slowly and they whimpered slightly.
“Please.. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Where am I? What..” They were cut off when something cold touched their lips. It took them a second to realize that it was a scapel. Whumpee’s lips remained firmly closed. Even as Whumper, slid the flat of the blade against their lips, down their chin, neck and stopping in the middle of their sternum.
“Shhhh,” whumper cooed, “Shut up. You were supposed to wait for me, you were supposed to love ME forever and ever. I was only gone for a year. Prison was so hard. But you.. you got me through. The thought of you.”
“Please I have no idea who you are!”
“SHUT UP,” the yell startled whumpee into silence and they felt tears burning at their eyes, “You can pretend all you want. But I know you remember me. I know it. You broke my heart whumpee.”
“I don’t know who you are! You crazy son of a-“ The scapel dipped into the skin with a fierce sting, just over their heart. The cut curved and slid down. Whumpee cut themselves off with a scream. Fighting uselessly against the restraints. The scapel cut deeper, probably through about an inch and blood flowed down Whumpee’s chest, as they screamed until their voice was raw.
“You were always so loud,” whumper said absentmindedly, “never shut up.” Whumper dug the scapel in again on the opposite side, curving and then down at a diagonal until it reached the other gorge in their chest. They cut again and again until it was deep enough.
Whumpee screamed the whole time. Panting heavily as each breath brought new waves of pain through them. “please.. whatever I did, im sorry.. im so sorry.”
“You’re not sorry. You’re just in pain,” Whumper said as they liked the flat of the scape, humming with satisfaction. “Yes, now, this next part will hurt, but just try and stay awake.”
Whumper grabbed an edge of the cut they had made, the abstract heart on their chest, lifted slightly and with a look of determination, began to cut under the skin. Whumpee screamed and sobbed as the scapel worked under the skin, sliding easily through the layers. Until the skin was held up by whumper, completely away from their chest where it was supposed to be.
Waves of revulsion, nausea and pain ran cold through whumpee as they fought not to vomit. “P-Please… stop..”
“No I don’t.. think I will. You know.. this is a very sad rendition of how you made me feel when you left me to rot. When you went off and got with someone new while I was away. Now.. now I want you to eat you fucking heart out.”
“No.. No no..” Whumpee screamed in a panic, sinking against the restraints but they couldn’t turn away. Not even clamping their mouth shut could help. Especially when Whumper, clamped their nose closed with their bloody fingers. Forcing them to open their mouth to breath. As soon as their mouth opened in a gasp. Whumper shoved the heart shaped skin in their mouth and slammed a hand over whumpees mouth.
“There we go. Now you know how it feels huh?”
They just tasted blood and they retched as the skin felt loose and soggy in their mouth.
“Eat it whumpee. Or we do this again and again and again until we get it right.”
Whumpee swallowed, and whumper tsked in disappointment.
“You were supposed to chew.” They released the hand from their mouth and the retched, trying to keep down the growing sense of nausea. “Lets try this again.”
The scapel stung as they carved just over their ribs.
--
thinking about making a taglist for my dribbles. lemme know if you want me to add you!!
#whumpblr#whump#whump blog#sunshine drabbles#sunshine writes whump#autocannibalism#carving#scapels#GORE#cw: gore#gore#sadistic whumper#implied drugging#blood#violence#really gross descriptions lmfao
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Snugglier
(tw: intimate/creepy whumper, noncon touch, noncon kiss (all unsexy), implied drugging, beating mention, restraints mention, kidnapping, blood)
“Theeeere you go…isn’t that better? Comfier? Ssssssssnugglier?” Whumper giggled, nuzzling into Whumpee’s hair.
Whumpee barely had the capacity to turn their head away, a soft moan of protest whispering between their lips.
“Ah ah ah-” Whumper corrected, pulling their face back to center with a gentle hand to their jaw, “That’s not very nice. We talked about being nice, right?”
Whumpee’s face pinched as they lifted their arm, trying to push away. The lethargy dragged them down again - wrist easily caught between Whumper’s fingers and pulled up to their lips - then kissed tenderly before being tucked back into place.
“I think you’d prefer to be nice,” Whumper purred, tugging at Whumpee’s hip to pull them closer on the couch. “If you’re not nice, then I can’t be nice…” Whumpee twitched numbly as fingers danced over their cheek. “And I really want to be nice to you right now…”
Whumpee swallowed thickly.
Heavy.
Everything was heavy.
Heavy and dense and slow and wrong. Even their eyes seemed not quite able to pull in the images around them. Unconsciousness flirted relentlessly with their mind as Whumper’s fingers carded slowly through their hair, lulling them into a false calm. A forced somnolescence. An eerie, distorted peace.
This was wrong.
This was displaced and wrong.
Whumper’s hands were wrong. Their voice was wrong. This setting was wrong.
Whumper was of screams and blood and cold - not the soft warmth of the living room or the gentle caresses that fell from their fingertips like honeywater.
That wrongness sat heavy in their gut - the promise of pain laced into every ounce of warmth.
It barely even hurt anymore. They could barely feel the bruises and the cuts and the rope burn against their strangely un-bound skin.
It was just the lethargy. Just the gentle touches and the stillness of night.
Their eyes fluttered shut as Whumper’s lips brushed their temple. “That’s better,” they murmured. “Just like that. Just drift away…I’ve got you.”
Whumper tugged them closer as a low whine crackled deep in Whumpee’s throat.
“Don’t worry. I’m right here.”
(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @meowsikbox @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @cryptidhongo @rose-pinkie @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @astralrunic @cursedscribbles @shywhumpauthor)
As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!
#intimate/creepy whumper#noncon touch#implied drugging#beating mention#restraints mention#kidnapping#blood#intimate whumper#creepy whumper#drabble#request#whump#whump drabble
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Content: Kidnapping, Captive Whumpee, Vaguely Creepy Whumper, Implied Drugging
Whumpee's head was throbbing, like a bad migraine they never took anything for. Their vision was fuzzy and dark, and their ears felt like they were full of cotton. They reached a hand up to their face, or rather, attempted to, as they soon discovered the restraints they seemed to be in.
The realization of their predicament jolted them to full wakefulness; confusion and fear beginning to sink in.
"Caretaker?" They rasped out.
A hum sounded from somewhere behind them, followed by a deep voice, "Not quite."
Whumpee's body tensed, their eyes darting around to try and take in where they were. They were sitting in a chair, arms tied to the armrests. They tried to turn their head, but it was slow, and the throbbing pain increased with every attempt.
"Who..." they mumbled out, the voice sounding familiar, but their pounding head was keeping them from placing it.
The voice mockingly gasped, "You wound me," a laugh, "Perhaps something to jog your memory?"
A hand slithered up Whumpee's chest and settled around their neck, squeezing enough to cut off airflow. Their eyes widened, and they looked down at a very familiar arm.
"Whumper," they hissed when the hand released their neck.
Whumper laughed and turned the chair around to have Whumpee face then, their hand reaching up to move a bit of hair out of their eyes, "Now now, Whumpee... It's sir to you."
"What do you want from me?" They asked, eyes flicking around at the room they were in. Cold concrete floors, walls, and ceiling and no furniture in the room except for the chair Whumper was sitting in and the one they were tied to.
Whumper stood from their chair and looked down on Whumpee, "You have been a thorn in my side since the day I met you."
They ran their hand through Whumpee's hair, "So I decided to solve my problems once and for all."
"Afterall," they harshly pulled up on Whumpee's hair, "How will you ruin my plans after I ruin you?"
Whumpee stayed quiet and schooled their face to look neutral. Don’t let Whumper see my fear. Now, what was the last thing I remember before waking up? They closed their eyes and tried to think. I was at home? And then.... I felt sick so I went to bed? The memories were fuzzy at best.
They opened their eyes as the grip on their hair tightened. Staring up at Whumper, they hoped their captor couldn't feel their growing fear.
"As much as this would be fun to continue right now, I have a meeting to attend to," Whumpee's head dropped as Whumper let them go. Brushing off nonexistent dust, they patted Whumpee on the cheek.
"I know, I know, poor time management. I'll have to get rid of that secretary," they walked towards the metal door of the room and swung it open.
"Sit tight, Whumpee. I'll be back..."
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Whumpuary 2024 Day 5
5. (Jan 09-10) Can't move / "Stay. Please" / Kidnapped
cw inexperienced whumper, past trauma/abuse, conditioned whumpee, whumper kidnapped whumpee from someone who treated them worse, slightly suggestive, intimate whumper, referenced drugging
“W-wait!” Whumpee called from where they sat on the concrete floor. “You're going to leave me down here?”
Whumper stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned back around to face them. “I'm pretty sure the basement is where you’re supposed to keep people you’ve kidnapped,” they replied with a frown.
Whumpee wrapped their arms around themself, shivering. Their head was still fuzzy from the drugs that were wearing off, but they were with it enough to know they did not want to be locked in the basement. “I-I don’t know. But it’s cold down here! And dark…I’m scared of the dark…”
“Um, I can bring you a blanket,” Whumper suggested, “and a lamp, maybe?”
Whumpee started to panic when their captor began ascending the stairs. “N-no, stop! Stay, please,” they begged. They didn’t know who Whumper was or what they wanted, but nothing could have been worse than being left alone, in the dark. Not after what they had been through before…
It was difficult to make out their expression with the only light coming from the doorway behind them, but Whumper stared at them with what appeared to be shock. “You’re not very good at this. Being a kidnapping victim, I mean. You’re supposed to be scared of me.”
Whumpee sniffled, willing their tears not to fall. “I know, I’m sorry. I'll do whatever you want, just…can you take me upstairs? Please?”
Whumper began walking toward them with a sigh. “I guess so,” they said hesitantly. “But I’ll have to tie you up, or something. So you don’t escape.”
“Okay.” Whumpee nodded eagerly and took the hand that was offered to them, letting Whumper pull them to their feet. “I promise I’ll be good. You won’t have to hit me or—or punish me, or lock me down here or anything, I swear.”
“What?”
Whumpee angrily brushed away the tears that had begun spilling from their eyes as memories resurfaced. “I’m sorry, you can tell me to shut up if I talk too much. I promise I know how to be good.”
An amused smile tugged at Whumper’s lips. “Do you, now?”
Fear coursed through Whumpee at the thought that their captor might not believe them. “Yes! I’ll do anything you say.”
“You’d let me tie you to my bedpost and sleep beside me,” Whumper asked, “if it meant not spending the night alone in the dark?”
Whumpee looked up at them pleadingly, vision blurred by tears. “Yes,” they whispered. “I’ll sleep in your bed. And…I’ll do anything else you want me to.”
“Look at that,” Whumper said, carding a hand through Whumpee’s hair. “I didn’t even have to do the hard work of breaking you in.”
#whumpuary2024#whumpuaryno5#kidnapping#stay. please#whump#whump writing#whumpblr#captive whumpee#intimate whumper#suggestive#kidnapping whump#implied drugging#inexperienced whumper#conditioned whumpee#snippet
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Is it possible for you to continue out of control?
Hi waddlethepenguin! Hi anon! I'd love to continue! Thanks for requesting this, and for your patience! Here you go!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Hero stirred on a soft surface. Voices buzzed over them as they blearily opened their eyes.
“Oh, Hero, you’re awake.”
Superhero stood over Hero, along with the two league members from before. Hero looked around and saw that they were in the league med bay.
“Villain,” Hero asked, “where’s Villain?”
“Shhh,” Superhero soothed, “it’s okay, Villain’s in custody, they can’t get to you anymore.”
“I-I need to see them,” Hero said, shakily trying to sit up.
Superhero gently pushed Hero back down in the bed.
“No, you need to rest,” Superhero said, “we don’t know what Villain’s done to you to make you so weak, but you’re not leaving this med bay until you’re better.”
“But-”
Superhero made a motion to the two league members, one of whom took a position in front of the door and the other by Hero’s bedside.
“Your teammates will make sure you stay put,” Superhero said.
With that, Superhero left the med bay, closing the door behind them; Hero heard the distinct click of a lock.
“Member 1,” Hero asked, “what have they done with Villain?”
The league member stationed by Hero’s bedside gave them a sympathetic smile.
“Don’t worry about it, Hero,” Member 1 said, “all you need to focus on is getting your strength back.”
Hero slumped in bed, visibly frustrated. Then, their eyes lit up with an idea. They threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed.
“Woah woah woah, what are you doing?” Member 1 asked, steadying Hero.
“I just wanted a drink of water,” Hero lied, “I was going to go get a glass.”
“Get back in bed, I’ll get it for you,” Member 1 said.
Member 1 pulled out a key, unlocked the door to the med bay, and left the room. Hero turned to Member 2.
“You heard them, Hero, to bed with you- Gah!”
Hero released a beam of ice, pinning Member 2 to the wall.
“What do you think you’re doing!?” Member 2 shouted.
“Saving Villain, of course!”
Hero ran from the room and out the open door. They turned down the hall when they ran into Member 1.
“Hero? What are you-”
Hero released another ice beam and knocked Member 1 off their feet.
“Sorry!” Hero yelled over their shoulder.
Hero bolted down a series of corridors until they reached the high-security containment hall. They punched in a key code and the door opened to reveal a glass cell, inhabited by a barely conscious Villain.
“Villain!” Hero cried.
Hero pushed a button on the wall, which opened the glass cell. They ran inside the cell and dragged Villain out. Villain’s eyes flickered red, but there was not much they could do in their current state.
“…Hero?” Villain asked weakly.
“Yeah, it’s me, it’s Hero,” Hero said, “I’m getting you out of here. Can you walk?”
…
Hero half-carried Villain out of the containment hall and back the way they came. They had just reached the back entrance when alarms started blaring.
“Someone’s in trouble,” Villain slurred.
“Member 1 must’ve sounded the alarm,” Hero said, “come on, we need to hurry.”
Hero rushed Villain into a league van and buckled their seatbelt for them. They raced over to the driver’s seat.
“I need your help for this next part,” Hero said, looking to Villain.
Villain shakily extended a finger over the ignition. A feeble spark of red energy swirled out and jump-started the van. Hero was about to step on the gas when Villain put a hand on their shoulder.
“What, what’s wrong?” Hero asked.
Villain cupped Hero’s face with both hands and pulled them close, their lips pressing against theirs. Hero’s eyes widened, then fluttered closed. They leaned into the kiss while the alarms continued to ring out. Villain pulled away and put their hand back on Hero’s shoulder.
“Okay, drive.”
part 6
#hero x villain#heroes and villains#villain whumpee#hero whumpee#escape attempt#rescue#whump#writeblr#writing#creative writing#as requested#drugging#implied drugging#villain x hero#villains and heroes#hero x villain community#hurt/comfort
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"Don't lie to me."
June 17: Accident | Doubt | Gaslighting • Masterlist •
Warnings: Carewhumper, implied drugging.
"Caretaker." Whumpee called from their room, voice rough. They didn't feel good enough to go out from the warm blankets, but feeling guilty that they were making Caretaker do everything.
"Yes, sweetie."
"Not— not f-feeling good." Again, they couldn't say. They couldn't breathe well, chest aching with their every movement.
"Again? You poor thing." They flinched with the nickname, but luckily, Caretaker didn't notice.
"W'nna g-go doctor." They admitted for the first time. They were sick or injured or weak for whatever reason since Caretaker accepted them to their home. There was something wrong with them, and they wanted to get better to pay back to Caretaker for their kindness.
"Sssh, you're just feeling a bit bad right now, but I don't think going to a doctor is a good idea. There's no need to exaggerate this. I'll help you get better."
They coughed, gathering their breaths to talk.
"Please." They begged. They never had to beg Caretaker before.
"Doctors won't be much of a help, I'm afraid. Let me check your fever now, please."
They obeyed. Caretaker brought a thermometer, placing it to Whumpee's mouth.
Whumpee closed their eyes, struggling to focus on the numbers.
"Mmm, that's quite high. You stay in bed, and I'll get you something to eat before medicines.
Caretaker left the thermometer on the bedside table, setting off tho prepare something in the kitchen.
Whumpee didn't know why they were this bad all the time. Caretaker was looking after them well, and it had been so long since they had recovered from their time with Whumper.
After a while, they decided to get up. Their legs beneath them gave up as soon as they stood, their hands gripping the bedside table desperately. They couldn't believe what they had seen.
Caretaker came, rushing at them.
"You d-did t-this!" They shouted, looking at the thermometer showing no fever at all.
Caretaker opened their mouth to deny.
"You— you d-did this. Don't lie t-to me."
Caretaker pulled them on their feet, pushing them into the bed.
"Yes, I did!" They replied with no shame. "But it was an accident— I didn't intend it to be this bad." This time, they were thoughtful. Like they had only calculated a math question wrong.
Whumpee cried, trying to escape from Caretaker's grip. But they couldn't keep doing it for long, cries finally turning into sobs. Caretaker hugged them, whispering into their ears.
"You'll not remember nothing tomorrow. It will be alright. As it always been when I'm here to look after you."
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Prompt 17
Whump Prompt
CW: Drugging/Poison, Creepy Whumper, violence, torture, the usual for whump, did some things out of my usual
Whumper’s eyes gleamed down at a whumpee, who still attempted to show defiance and control. Whumpee brushed at the blood on their face with their bruised knuckles, giving Whumper shots of glares even though they knew they looked pathetic.
They hated even more how it made Whumper smile. Whumper, who lazily turned a glass of wine around in his palms, was just delighted by a whumpee who takes so long to break. They fantasized in their head what they wanted to try next, allowing one hand to slip over to a bundle of estranged tools. They watched as Whumpee flinched at the sight of them.
Whumpee gulped down their fear. They knew they only needed to hold on for a little longer. Whumper wasted no time once they settled on an idea, setting their now empty cup aside, and deciding on their trusty combat knife. They felt warm with wine, and at this point were physically aching for something to do.
They laced the knife against Whumpee’s skin, listening to Whumpee hiss in anticipation. The hissing turned to held back whimpers, which became gasp of air and barely held back pleas. Whumper’s work became slower, and lazier than usual, starting to miss the marks they wanted, and fail to enter as deeply.
The knife clattered to the ground, and Whumper tiredly glanced at it like a kid who dropped their ice cream cone. They stood up ignoring how the room spun, chopping it down to being tipsy. But when they went to pick it up, they couldn’t bring themselves back into a stand.
Whumper’s eyelids grew heavy. The bored aching became real pain felt deep within Whumper’s bones. The warmth became blistering. Whumper felt their own cheeks flush, and rolled their eyes over to make sure Whumpee wasn’t watching. But Whumpee was, and was enjoying every last second of it.
Finally they spoke as Whumper allowed themselves to fully sink to the floor, “How was your wine Whumper? I put a little something in it for you.”
#this is likely so bad#I wrote this while beyond tired#happy thanksgiving ig#whump#whump prompt#whumperee#poison whump#implied drugging#cw drugging#tw drugging#drug whump#whumpee#creepy whumper#defiant whumpee#whump stuff#whump scenario#whump scene#whump prompts
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I wanna look up at someone with my big ol eyes md have them hold me so so badly. Im so so sleepy theyd just pull me up onto their lap so so sweetly amd stroke my hair and rock me. Id be so so cozy that id hardly even notice their hand starting to rub me over my clothes. If I stir at all theyll just shush me and say “dont worry baby, ive got you. Gonna make you feel so so good as you sleep.” And Ill listen of course. Why would I ever question them? Im a dumb little pet. Amd when I wake up in the morning all sore, cum leaking out of me, and covered in bruises and I ask them about it they’ll just go “what do you mean princess? Youve had those pretty marks for days now. And I filled you up real good last night after I made your special drink for you like always” And I listen. Like a good boy. Why would they ever lie to me?? My purpose is to listen to them and make them happy. So even if pictures I have of me from the day before dont show them I just think something is wrong with my phone. Because whatever they tell me is always the truth <3
#im so sleepy :((#i just wanna be able to serve him so so well#ill learn all my truths from him if he wants ‘/)’#be the prettiest pet#cnc somno#somno breeding#dumbification#implied drugging#i think??#idk but i want it to be there#worshipping??#a little??#idek anymore#just wanna not have to think about anything#just believe what im tokd#and be bred so so nicely while i sleep
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let’s have a sleepover only i can barely keep my eyes open and you’re suddenly standing over me pulling your pants down and guiding my hands to your throbbing cock
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Too Late
CW: Implied captivity/isolation, referenced ankle bracelet, shock collar (it’s on his ankle but still), creepy whumper, friendly whumper
The Motherfucking Gallaghers Masterlist
Written for @amonthofwhump day 6: Too late. Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with permission. Takes place about midway through Jax’s first captivity.
-
Melody leans forward on her elbows, looking over the counter towards the large window at the front of the shop. “What do you think?”
Paulo looks at her, then follows her gaze. Nearly silhouetted in front of the window, against the backdrop of the people walking by with their shopping bags and laughter, are two people sitting at a small table. A woman and a man, early to mid-twenties maybe. The woman’s come in before, with friends or dates, but the guy… the guy, they’ve never seen before.
“What do you mean?”
“Look at them. Does something seem... weird to you?”
Paulo narrows his eyes, taking a closer look. The woman has a wealth of gorgeous curly brown hair, pulled back from her face with a clip, waterfalling down her back nearly to her waist. She’s some kind of violinist - Melody’s mom knows who she is and just about freaked with excitement when she saw her once, had her autograph a CD, but Melody can’t remember her name.
Our own hometown celebrity, as if a violinist counted.
The woman leans hands on her coffee cup, speaking with enthusiasm to the man sitting across from her.
The woman, she just looks like anyone else having a nice Saturday morning out. She’s got burgundy lipstick on and wears a matching shoulder that slips off one shoulder to reveal a camisole strap, cute bootcut blue jeans, cute shoes. she looks drop-dead gorgeous, could be a model, even. Big wide eyes, and Melody thinks she remembers them being really, really blue. The kind where people think you’re blind sometimes, because people have no idea what blind looks like and just make shit up.
It’s the man that’s harder to get a read on.
He’s thin, not model-thin but doesn’t-eat-enough thin. Good-looking, but like he’s had a really rough couple of years. His hands are on his coffee cup, too, but he rarely takes a sip and only then it’s like he forgot the coffee was there until just that second. His eyes are on the woman’s face, taking her in, but there’s a lack of expression about him that makes Melody wonder if he’s even listening.
He’s got a turtleneck on - weird, since it’s sort of unseasonably warm, but maybe he just likes it - and a nice pair of jeans, slim-fit, that he seems distinctly uncomfortable in. When he shifts a little, the hem of his jeans rides up, and between his too-white, barely-used tennis shoes and the shadow of his leg she catches sight of something that makes her look closer.
The man’s eyes shift, and briefly meet hers.
Then he looks right back to the woman. It’s not even noticeable, not really, except that Melody had been blatantly staring at him. She turns bright red, face burning, and turns away. “Oh my god, he saw me looking. He’s going to think I’m such a fucking creep.”
“Oh, shit, there’s gonna be a one-star review on Google if his friend figures that out,” Paulo says, still good-humored as always. “She’s a monster. She’s in here all the time, she’s one of those that makes sixteen million ‘quirky’ little changes and then yells if you forget even one. Like, Lady, this isn’t a goddamn Starbucks. Still… you’re right. Something’s up with them. Like, look at his hair.”
Melody nods and makes a show of cleaning something along the espresso machine, taking quick little sidelong glances while she does, focusing on the guy’s spiky auburn hair. It’s patchy, like he lost all of it and it’s growing back in but it hasn’t quite remembered how yet. She wrinkles her nose. “That could be chemo, though, right? Hair loss, weight loss… my sister looked kind of like that after hers.”
“Nah, that’s not chemo hair. Also-”
“His ankle, right?” She drops to a whisper. “Something’s on his ankle.”
Paulo raises one eyebrow at her while wiping clean a water glass. “I was going to say he looks like he’s high on something. His ankle, Melody? Seriously? It’s probably just-”
“No, it’s not his fucking sock, Paulo, look.”
Paulo hums, and just at that second the guy shifts around, the leg of his pants moving up more than before. As if he knows they’re looking, although his eyes stay on the woman now, listening to her speak with perfect focus. Or pretending to. Man, the guy looks exhausted. Paulo takes a look and then nods. “Yep,” he mutters. “That’s an ankle bracelet.”
“Like…”
“Like for DUIs. Like the kind that track where you go, and send the cops out if you go too far or try to mess with it.”
“Huh. Maybe he’s her friend or cousin or something, out of prison? Got a tracker for parole?”
“Maybe… I don’t think so. I think you’re right, something’s… fishy. Hm.” Paulo sighs, leaning his chin on one hand. “He’s not saying anything, have you noticed? She does all the talking, and there’s a lot of talking. But he’s not even… making those noises you make to show you’re listening. Just… staring at her.”
The guy picks up his coffee cup, and his hands are all red, red enough to see from this far across the room. Irritated, like he’s had them up to his elbows in buckets of bleach. Just then, some people come in, the door blowing open and setting the little bell to jingling. Melody watches the guy flinch.
“Something’s really, really wrong,” She mutters.
Paulo and Melody handle the new customers, a group of six who all want a different kind of latte - easy enough, and it’s a zen thing for Melody. She disappears into the simple action of add syrup, brew espresso, steam milk, pour and hand. It’s like meditation for her, and there’s a reason she loves this job so much.
“I’m going to talk to him,” She decides, voice firm, as the last drinks are set on the counter. She turns to look-
They’re gone, the doorbell jingling as they walk out. The guy never even looks back over his shoulder.
“Damn,” Paulo mutters. “We’re too late. I got a photo of him, though. Look at this, I do this little trick-” He shows her his cell phone, and Melody stares as he uploads the photo he’d taken - zoomed in on the guy’s face - and searches for similar images.
The first thing that comes up in some photos from some old Instagram, of a guy in a band. It’s a little filtered and blurred, but it sure looks like the same guy. Melody nods, but it’s the photo after that that catches her eye.
It’s a news site photo. The image looks a little older, but it’s someone looking into the camera without quite smiling, and it’s definitely the same damn guy. She has absolutely no doubt. He has more weight around his face in the photo, and his hair isn’t half-grown, but it’s him.
Desperate search for missing Manchester man continues…
“Manchester… this is British. This is the Mirror.” Melody leans around Paulo and taps the photo, bringing up the article. Her chest feels cold and tight as she quickly scans the text. Months after his disappearance, Jackson Gallagher’s father and mother keep the search for their son alive despite a lack of evidence… Jackson’s father is certain foul play is involved… “He would never go so long without contacting us-”
“That woman he was with, that’s one of the Marcosets, right?” Paulo’s lips barely move. “That family that has the, like, huge house out behind Starkwood? They basically own everything in this town that doesn’t rely on tourism. Isaac Marcoset is basically the town mayor without the title or something.”
“... yeah, Marcoset sounds right. My mom loves her albums, she plays violin. Why?”
“Well, haven’t you heard about the Marcosets?” Paulo raises an eyebrow. “They keep people.”
“You mean like…” Melody touches her hand to her throat, thinking of the guy’s unseasonable warm turtleneck.
“Yeah. Supposedly Isaac Marcoset has a Box Boy, and people say the rest of their servants aren’t, uh, paid, if you get my drift. There’s like a ton of gossip about it.”
“No way. If that was true, a cop or something would go investigate and free them-”
Paulo actually laughs, shaking his head. “I would love to have your upbringing. The cops, help? Nah. What they’ll do is get paid off by Isaac Marcoset to do absolutely nothing about it, or find no proof that anything bad is happening in a perfect clean house. Rumor has it the Marcosets always know when the cops are coming.” Paulo shrugs.
Melody catches sight of the woman’s head of hair, moving into a shop across the street, the man just behind her, trailing like a puppy without a leash.
Unless the ankle bracelet is the leash.
Melody steps back, fingers going to the ties to her apron, yanking at the knot ineffectually. “I’m going to ask him myself.”
“Melody-”
“If he’s some cousin on parole or whatever, he’ll tell me, right? You can handle it, right? Right, you can handle it. Thanks, Paulo.” She goes up on her toes to kiss his cheek even as he rolls his eyes.
“Be careful!” He calls after her as she runs out the door, customers looking up startled as she goes, the door banging into the wall and rattling the bell like Melody’s nerves as she races across the street. A car horn honks - she ignores it.
But when she gets into the store, she discovers the woman isn’t there. She left out the back door, the customer service rep says, bright and cheerful and pretending not to be perturbed by the sudden entrance of the half-panicked young woman with pink hair. Ms. Marcoset is in a hurry today.
Melody feels her stomach sink.
She heads out the back door herself, wondering at the store with a back door, and her shoes crunch on loose gravel wearing away from the pavement in a little parking lot. The spots are all full, except for one.
Even as she watches, a small red sports car pulls into the space.
Melody looks up and sees that head of brown hair, the spiky auburn beside it, in a sleekly expensive silver something-or-other - probably a fucking Lexus, why not. The car pulls away down the road, and Melody can’t quite see the license plate.
She fishes her cell phone out of her pocket, thinking about what Paulo said.
They always know the cops are coming before they arrive.
She makes the call anyway.
They don’t even write down that she called.
-
@eatyourdamnpears @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @arlinthesnep @wildfaewhump @whump-tr0pes @iaminamoodymoodtoday @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @thefancydoughnut @mylifeisonthebookshelf @whumpinggrounds
#amow winter whumperland 2022#day 6#too late#melody the eternal barista#the motherfucking gallaghers#savvie marcoset#jax#whump#captivity#shock collar#sort of#creepy whumper#enslaved#slavery#implied drugging#they're best friends!#what good friends they are#jax: has no idea what she's fucking going on about#savvie: has no idea he isn't hanging on her every word
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