#implied dubcon

[concubussy]

Demon having it’s way with a sheltered prince. Oh how the king and queen have protected him, he doesn’t know just how much pleasure he can truly feel. The demon using its skilled tongue and fingers, it’s tail choking him and stuffing it’s way into his mouth if he makes too much noise. Forcibly pulling orgasm after orgasm out of the squirming royalty bellow it.

#nsft #trans nsft #t4t nsft #nblm #concubus #incubus #demon #Demonkin #otherkin #trans dom #prince #prince nsft #royalty #royalty kink #regency #regency kink #corruption kink #choking #implied dubcon #queer #it/its

[yandere--stuck]

would you entertain the idea of a yandere Enki? 🤲

I think yandere!Enki would be the type to threaten you into getting what he wants. Frail as he may be, the dark priest was powerful in both his intellect and prowess in blood magic and necromancy, and made sure you and everyone else realized that.

He wouldn't threaten you immediately, though, if you suggested splitting up or that you'd join a different party. Enki would scoff, remark that you were insulting him by thinking you'd be better off without him. Honestly, he was doing you a favor. You should be grateful. And he'd better not hear of such foolish ideas from you again.

You both intrigued and frustrated him. He was supposed to acquire knowledge that could be found within the dungeons and find the man he'd seen in a vision upon his sacrificial post, but instead he'd found you and the little motley crew of adventurers that had made their way down here. And he had stuck by you, let you charm him and ease down his walls as hard as he fought to deny it. Just his luck. Still, if he could do it again, Enki knew he would have joined you again - for you, not for the Eclipse Talisman you would provide for his services.

So, understandably, even an inkling of you wanting to part was an insult. You had fought through blood and hell together. It felt like you had been here, known each other, years. Lifetimes. Maybe it was. It was so dark, it was hard to tell anymore. Only the gods know how long it had been since he'd last seen daylight.

He'd pull you aside and whisper into your ear that if you tried to leave, he'd kill your allies. He'd raise them from the dead, of course - not exactly smart to lose the strength in numbers, but they as you knew them would be gone forever. And as... Fond as he was of you, he wouldn't hesitate to do the same to you. At least, that's what he hissed into your ear as he held your hands in the darkness, just out of earshot of your allies.

To keep you loyal and silent, he would occasionally threaten to increase his connection to Sylvian in case he needed to form a marriage with you. You'd lose yourself, yes, but you and he would never be able to part. Very romantic, wouldn't you say?

... Well, a marriage is only successful if both parties want it. But, you didn't need to know that, if it meant keeping you by his side indefinitely.

#yandere x reader #yandere fear and hunger #fear and hunger x reader #fear & hunger x reader #yandere fear & hunger #enki ankarian x reader #yandere enki #enki x reader #yandere enki ankarian #x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #implied dubcon #implied noncon #suggestive

[hell-hirsch]

Additional under the cut

#astarion #cazador #astarion acunin #cazador szarr #bg3 #drow twins #sharess caress #my art #honestly just a doodle #implied dubcon #bg3 fanart

[suzukiblu]

gentle?

Kon had grinned at him again and stepped in a little closer, 'til they were in each other's space for longer than just one super-speed blur, and Superman had put a hand on his face and gripped his jaw. Turned his face from side to side to inspect.

And then he'd smiled and said, "Look at you," and now they're here.

"Rather look at you, honestly," Kon says, and Superman's smile widens. It looks exactly like their Superman's, but it also looks dangerous.

Kon doesn't know this version of Clark. Doesn't know anything about him at all, except for how fast he could rip the planet in half if he felt like it.

Hell, he might not even be a "Clark".

"I'm looking just where I want to be too," Superman murmurs, low and approving and without taking his eyes off Kon for a moment, and Kon feels some very bad things that are gonna really fuck with his compartmentalization here. Like really, really gonna fuck with it. "You're certainly a better class of homage than I'm used to, Kon-El."

"Thank you, sir," Kon says, the words slipping out maybe a little too easily. Superman's smile widens again and he gives Kon's jaw a gentle little squeeze that could crush steel, then drops his hand away.

Kon misses it immediately.

So that's bad, definitely.

#kon el #clark kent #superboy #superman #anonymous #implied dubcon #can't remember if I posted this bit yet but I love it so have it anyway haha #wip: mirrorverse!clark and kon's daddy issues

[mychlapci]

mmmm we should combine weight gain and merformers.

so many mer who live in captivity finally get enough food to properly survive. maybe some of them lived in areas where overfishing was a problem, and some might've come from entertainment attractions like seaworld where they were intentionally deprived of food so they would obey more. maybe some suffered from being eggbound and couldn't hunt for themselves, hence being transferred to a care facility.

so many mers getting a nice layer of fat on them <3

-burnt ice anon

OoOh we’ve gotten up to fat merformers before, though not exactly in this direction (it was basically about how mers would overeat and over-breed in captivity, poor things). though i do think that a lot of mers that were held in bad conditions or used for breeding programs would have struggled a lot with keeping a healthy weight… recovery facilities would make sure to fix that.

i am actually very fond of merformers visibly changing for the better once they’re in the new facility and being fed properly. They’re not only getting a healthy amount of food, but instead of it being just thrown at them, they actually get to hone their reflexes by hunting for live specimens around the tank. This results in mers looking bigger and getting stronger, their fins and claws get sharper, their scales get back more of their colour… they look much healthier all together, and once they have enough weight that there is no longer the risk of it immediately burning off while they’re hunting, they’re finally ready for re-release into a monitored part of the ocean <3

#valveplug #merformers #implied dubcon

[envy-of-the-apple]

Yandere!Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

I haven’t written my man in soo longg. i claim to be an illumi stan but i only have like two fics for the guy. im so sorry illumi your dead fish eyes are the only eyes for me i swear. Highly inspired by this drabble made by flamingtrash. The way bestie writes illumi just lamenting just sends chills down my spine. 

Target

(Warnings: Yandere, stalking, murder, more stalking, planning to murder, mentions of suicide) 

Kill the husband, do whatever you want to the wife. 

His mission is one of the simpler ones. He considers this busy work. His target is a regular civilian, a break from the numerous other assassins, hit-men, nen-users he typically was hired to do. 

Still, Illumi takes his time, because every target deserves his vigilance, his dedication. It wouldn’t be right to just finish and go. He offers each life respect. 

He remembers the reason why your husband has to die. Bribery, company theft, among many other things. The men who wanted him gone needed for him to disappear completely, not a trace of him left behind. 

He has a feeling you wouldn’t go away just as easily. 

It was a love marriage. You two met right after you graduated college, and it bloomed from there. Coffee dates, light night strolls, candlelight dinners. Domestic activities. 

You loved your husband. Though Illumi isn’t intimate with the feeling, it’s clear to anyone who’s willing to watch. You’d been married for years, yet you still get so flustered at the mention of him. Twiddling thumbs, nervous laughter. 

Your husband loves you too. Maybe just as much. He’s not as quick to show it. He’s close to inheriting the company from his father. He has a lot of work to do. It’s probably why he’s doing so many gray things. Your husband is stressed. He knows one day this will all catch up to him. 

That day came when Illumi was handed 20 million jennies and a picture. 

He watches because making it look like an accident is much harder to accomplish than it sounds. He considers pinning the blame on you, before he discards the thought. Insufficient. 

But you really did love your husband. He isn’t usually so interested in his target’s marital affairs but he thinks he admires your loyalty. You’re so loving to him. Despite the busy lives you two lead, you manage to still think about him. 

Like today, when you’re setting up the breakfast table. You place two bowls, despite the fact your husband’s still asleep in the bed you two share. 

He’s been busy lately, constantly running from meeting to meeting. After a bit of scouting Illumi realizes that he’s only ever in two places: at the office, or in bed with you. Sometimes, just twice since Illumi has been observing, your husband crawls into a dark alley, filled with underdwellers, whispering about their latest schemes. He barely has time for breakfast. 

A routine is being set in place. You make two plates, continuing to bustle away in the kitchen as you wait for him. He’ll leave in a hurry, as he always does, yelling out a ‘bye darling’ before slamming the door shut. You’ll come out of the kitchen a few minutes later to see the bowls untouched, and then you’ll frown. Like you always do. 

And that worries Illumi because when your husband is gone and if you start putting together the pieces: always rushing everywhere, constantly being stressed, not eating breakfast anymore. He’d rather you be in the dark. He’d rather not waste his time killing you too. He wants you to play the part he set out to you; the heartbroken wife wondering how her husband could do this to himself when he was always so happy. 

Today, Illumi decides to intervene when your husband leaves like that for the fifth day in a row. You hadn’t even realized the intruder when he casually steps into the dining room, too busy in the kitchen. He decides to dispose of your husband’s bowl in the bushes, where the stray cats can have their fill. It’s clean when Illumi drops the dish back to its place on the table. 

You come out a few minutes later when Illumi safely retracts to his usual hiding spot. He watches you keenly, noting the perceived disappointment you have on your face like you’re already preparing yourself. 

And then you stop, staring at the empty bowl. 

A soft smile adorns your face. Your eyes crinkle. 

You look so happy, as you sit down, eating your own breakfast. It confuses him, just how happy a small action made you. 

It didn’t matter. This was good. If he kept this up, your husband’s demise would be a heartbroken tragedy, rather than suspected foul play. He shouldn’t be bothered by the details. 

Days later, he still thinks about your smile.

He watches you more than he does his target. 

Illumi can’t help himself. You’re so distracting. He doesn’t understand why. He should have been done with this mission weeks ago but he’s still here because he can’t understand you. 

You’re normal by any standard. Completely average. You work a desk job, and come back home when you get off the clock. You have normal friends. You have a normal family. Nothing you do should surprise him. 

But you do, nearly every day. He realizes you have these faces you show to others. Towards your co-workers, you’re polite and resigned. People who you’re closer to, family, close friends, your husband, you’re more sincere. You smile more. It’s fascinating to watch you switch depending on who you interact with. 

It shouldn’t matter because everyone has different faces. Everyone does this, this is basic socialization in regard to his targets. You aren’t special. 

Sometimes, Illumi catches himself wondering what face you would show him if you two ever met. 

You’re so disgustingly normal as you sit in the living room of your house, watching a TV show he hardly cares about. You don’t seem to care either, more interested in babbling on the phone to your friend about some nonsense at work. 

He should just kill you off too. It would be easier, less work on his part. It’s not like his clients care about what he does with you. You are an anomaly, but in the grand scheme of things, you are dispensable, irrelevant to his job. You won’t matter. 

You shouldn’t matter. 

You’re clumsy, it’s a common trait Illumi has noticed. You show your skill off almost every day. Take this moment, for instance, as you get up, you nearly drop your phone, catching it in the knick of time. You laugh to your friend about it in relief and Illumi thinks you wouldn’t be a good fit within his family. He strangely doesn’t mind your helplessness, however. 

He catches himself again. He curses. He really should just kill you. 

It’d be so easy to, it’s not like you made it hard. You don’t have any combat experience, you don’t even realize he’s there, right behind you, watching you work away in the kitchen as you continue to talk to your friend in utter obliviousness. 

He’s close enough to smell your perfume. 

When you turn, he’s back in his perch, onlooking the window. As usual, you don’t spot any evidence of the stranger being in your home, close enough to touch you. You continue stirring away a dish, still on the phone. 

He really should just kill you. 

Illumi thinks your friends serve their purpose. 

Since he is unable to interrogate you, your friends do it for him. They get you drunk in the restaurant you three had booked weeks ago, tipsy on a strain of alcohol he’d barely consider strong. It’s enough to spill your deepest secrets he could never uncover himself. A childhood past files could never tell him. 

Your friend makes a comment about how the kid version of you would probably be scandalized at how you turned out. A slurred laugh bubbles out of your lips. Illumi thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. 

“You sound just like my husband,” You say with mirth. Your friend frowns. 

“Speaking of him…are the two of you okay? He didn’t show up to the dinner party last week.” Your husband hadn’t. Instead, he’d left you alone while he went to go and make more blood money. You frown, like you’re remembering it too. 

“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s been busy lately. It’s something at work.” 

“Has he been specific?” Another friend presses. You look pensive. 

“Not really,” You respond. They frown at eachother, casting a knowing look. 

“Stop,” You say, your voice losing all humor, “It’s not like that. You two think so lowly of him. He’s not that kind of man.” And it’s true. Your husband doesn’t cheat. He bribes and launders instead. 

“He’s been…really tired lately. He sleeps like a rock all night, but in the morning it looks like he hadn’t even gotten a wink. His eye bags have eye bags.” You frown, taking another sip of your drink. “I always feel so guilty, like I should be doing something.” 

“Have you tried speaking to him about it?” One asks.  

You smile without mirth. 

“He doesn’t talk to me. Sometimes-sometimes I feel like he really wants to, but is afraid to, which is so stupid. It’s like he doesn’t know that I’ll love him no matter what he does.” 

Illumi believes you. He really does. He suddenly realizes that if your husband admitted everything he’s been doing right now; you’d forgive him, you’d accept him, you’d still love him.

You’re so loyal to him. Only him. Even when your husband doesn’t really deserve it, it was love. True love. 

That’s why he was so drawn to you. He wanted a wife just like you. Hell, if he had a perfect wife, he’d launder, and bribe, and steal to keep you too. 

He leaves after that. The mystery was solved. He could finally complete his mission. 

He wastes no time getting to your home, getting to his target. 

Killing the man was easy. Illumi barely breaks a sweat. Your husband is dead, and at his feet, within seconds. 

Then he waits. 

He waits for you to come home, he waits for you to see the scene. He decides that he’ll let you grieve for thirty seconds. Half a minute, before he breaks your neck, and then you’ll join your beloved. 

He isn’t usually so gracious, but he feels indebted to you. He’s grateful that you showed him that something like this exists. Utter devotion. He wants someone like you in his life. Someone who will smile and laugh and be intertwined with him, forever. 

He’ll pay it back by giving you time with your husband. It’s the least he can do. 

The door clicks an hour later. He patiently waits. Waits for you to see your lover, waits for you to scream, waits for you to see him. He’ll give you thirty seconds. Just thirty seconds. 

Forty-five seconds pass. 

Your eyes meet his first. 

You smile. 

“Hey.” 

You’re intoxicated. He can smell the wine from your lips as you stumble forward, lightly tripping on your heels. He’s close enough that you fall into him. He could have moved away, avoiding your clumsy body, letting you fall on a heap to the floor. 

He’s never minded your clumsiness. 

Illumi stays, gently pressing his fingertips into your shoulders, stabilizing you. You’re so soft under his touch. Delicate. He’s suddenly afraid a single move might snap you in half. 

You laugh, and although your voice is heavy with alcohol, it’s so light and free. You look at him, really really look at him. Your eyes are glimmering and he’s wondering if the night sky itself was etched into your eyes. 

“My hero,” You say so so lovingly and it clicks. 

You think he’s your husband. 

Why else would you be so happy? You can’t see him that well, not with your poor eyesight, an average human’s ability. Not when you’re so drunk off of the sweet wine he can practically taste from your lips. 

You don’t see the dead body right at your feet. You just see Illumi. 

Still, he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either, choosing to wrap your arms around his waist, drawing him closer. You’re so warm. You fit perfectly against his body. 

If he presses himself any closer, if he brings his hand up, right by your neck, and squeezes just so slightly, he’d be able to feel all of you. The blood pumping in your veins, sending oxygen, nutrients, everything that keeps you here. You’re alive. You aren’t dead, not yet. That’s why you’re so warm, not a cold corpse. 

He thinks he prefers you this way. 

“Sorry I was so late,” You’re slurring your words, but he understands them anyway, “I hadn’t seen the girls in a while. Hope you’re not too mad.” 

He doesn’t reply. You don’t seem to care, pressing up against him again. It feels so intimate, he’s not used to this. For once, in the many years he’s lived without doubt, he’s stuck. 

You managed to do that to him. Disarm him. You are surely the most dangerous opponent he’s had to face. 

You’re pulling away, a pout on your lips. 

“I knew it, you are mad,” You sigh, “Is there any way you can forgive me? Maybe…” 

You don’t finish your sentence, pressing up, messily pressing your warm lips to his. He’s kissed before, he’s not unnerved to the notion of touch, contact. 

But he can taste the ambrosia on your tongue. It’s addictive. 

“Sorry,” You whisper when you pull away. He doesn’t want you to. “I’m sorry.” 

You’re looking at him again, and your eyes are simmering, smoldering with a feeling that looks so dirty. You’re looking at him with absolute adoration and he strangely feels like he’s about to break. 

“You forgive me, right?” 

He makes his decision when you intertwine your hand in his, leading him to your bedroom. He makes sure you avoid stepping over your husband, guiding you away from the body. You’re giggling in his arms, caressing his hands. His face. 

Why would he give a fuck about having someone like you when he could just have you?

When you reach to turn on the bedroom light he’s quick to intervene, pinning you against the bed. Your intoxicated mind is eager to forget, clumsily reciprocating. 

He reaffirms his decision when he bites your neck, hearing you moan and writhe beneath him. 

He’ll keep you. After all, he’s worked so hard over these years. He deserves an award. 

You’ll love him, the same way you loved your husband, the rotting corpse he hopes will burn somewhere far far away from you two. 

And if you don’t. That’s okay too. Illumi has more than enough love to go around. 

#dark content #yandere illumi zoldyck x reader #Dark Illumi Zoldyck #yandere #x reader #stalking #murder #Illumi laments about killing you a lot #he's just shy i swear #hired gun #suicide mention #implied dubcon #delusion #yandere hxh

[whumpshaped]

financial imbalance. abuse of power. all of it. i want it. i love it.

tw financial whump, abuse of power, domestic whump, manipulation, invasion of privacy, implied dubcon/noncon if you take it that way, poverty

whumpee and whumper are roommates. whumpee cant even really afford rent, theyre at whumper's mercy. if whumper decides they dont want to pay the entire rent for the both of them, whumpee is out.

whumpee and whumper are in a relationship. whumpee really only goes along with it for the money. whumper knows that and never fails to hold it over their head.

whumper is whumpee's employer. and they know full well that if whumpee loses this job, its curtains.

whumpee's allowance is barely enough for basic necessities, if that. if they want anything else, they have to ask whumper. maybe they have to ask whumper for food money too. its entirely up to whumper whether whumpee will be allowed to have it

whumpee forced to do everything for whumper. i mean everything. whatever they want.

whumper isolating whumpee, sabotaging their attempts at getting a job or gaining any sort of independence

whumpee is kept well! they look healthy, they have the nicest clothes, they smell like lavender and vanilla. there are bruises peeking out from under the lace and sheer fabric.

others think whumpee is a gold-digger, a horrible, money hungry person, and whumper is the victim, trampled on because theyre just too generous for their own good

whumpee is so manipulated and so far gone, they believe all of that. they think theyre being horrible asking for the bare minimum. they think they deserve the disrespect. they think whumper is generous and theyre grateful to them for putting food on the table and a roof over their head

whumpee isnt allowed to touch their roommate's/partner's food or things, after all, whumper bought that with their own money and not for whumpee

whumper is allowed to touch any and everything, after all it was all bought with their money so technically its just theirs

whumpee has no privacy. their office? of course their boss can monitor them 24/7 if they like. their bedroom? their roommate is paying for the apartment theyll go wherever they please. their phone? their partner is allowed to look at their messages on a phone they bought for them, no? especially since surely whumpee has nothing to hide anyway

ok im done

~

@ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @dustbunnywhump @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland

#whump #whump prompts #whump scenarios #financial whump #abuse of power #domestic whump #manipulation #invasion of privacy #implied dubcon #implied noncon

[statisticalcats2]

I was always so caught up on Sladin I also somehow never really processed the line about Terra like:

"What did you do to her?" "Nothing she didn't want."

BRO

#teen titans 2003 #slerra #slade wilson #teen titans terra #implied dubcon #implied noncon #pro fiction safe

[wordsbymae]

Hehehehchahd Farmer comforting his sweet little spouse after a nightmare, or maybe his spouse comforting him? Either way, comfort is happening :3c

Hi!!! Thank you so much for the ask!! I am very sorry it took me a while! Thank you for being patient :)

I have two scenarios for this one:

First, his darling has a nightmare about their early days in the barn. At this point, they've been married to the farmer for years now and they hardly remember their time in the barn. but bad memories are hard to truly forget they have a terrible nightmare about the farmer and the cold, the rattling of chains, and the things he would do to them despite them begging him not to and the rain that would make its way inside and them being forced underwater in the trough when they tried to escape and the sweet deputy they saw the farmer kill.

They wake up in terrible fright, and when the farmer tries to calm them down they freak out even more. this is the very face they were dreaming about, the very man who stabbed the deputy who was trying to save them. The man who would laugh when they cried.

The reader just bursts into tears and begs the farmer not to take them back there, that they will be good, just please please don't take them back to the barn.

the farmer just forces them to his chest and holds them while they sob until they fall asleep again due to exhaustion. He just holds them and rocks them back and forth and promises never to put them back there again. Before the reader falls asleep he hears a mumbled, "I don't believe you".

The next day the barn is up in smoke.

the second!: (implied fem reader or at very least they adopted, I never explicitly state reader is pregnant)

the farmer wakes up with a gasp, heart still beating a mile a minute and hands sweaty. He dreamed about his father again. if he closes his eyes he can still feel the knife in his hand and the splash of hot blood on his face. It was the same dream he's had since he killed his father.

usually, it was a good dream and he woke up with a smile. but this time it was different. it wasn't his father in the bed. It was him, and the boy with the knife looked like him, yes, but they also looked a lot like you.

He knows it was just a dream, a stupid nightmare, but he can still remember what it felt like to drown in his own blood.

He rolls over, calming his breathing. His arm falls over your side and he pulls you tight to him, his hand resting on your belly.

You mumble something soft but fall back asleep.

He kisses the back of your head. he knows he should go back to sleep. it's very early morn and there's a long day of hard work ahead, but for the moment he thinks it's best if he waits for the sun to rise and the light to glimmer through the window with you in his arms.

@floraroselaughter

#farmer oc #yandere x reader #implied dubcon #murder #implied pregnancy

[ashintheairlikesnow]

BBU Community Days

@bbu-on-the-side * {Day 8} Barcode

-

CW: Police harassment, derogatory/demeaning language, prostitution, implied dubcon

The asshole officer shines a flashlight right in his face, half-blinding him, and he winces and turns his face away. "What the fuck-"

"I said turn it over. Show me."

"Show you what?"

The officer sighs, sounding wearied, and the runaway pet wants to punch him in his stupid smug face. He thinks he's tired? He didn't spend the last day hiding from pouring rain that has streets flooded and people in rain boots half-wading when they have to go out. "You know what. Turn your wrist over and show me your barcode."

"I don't have to do anything." The pet's chin juts out, eyes narrowed to slits against the glare of light still aimed right at him. "Come back with a fucking warrant."

"Okay, I would, but you aren't in a house. You aren't even inside. This is an alley. This is public space and you are causing discomfort to the people who actually do live here. Come on, Boxie, wrist out. Let me see it."

"I don't have a fucking barcode. What, is it illegal to sit now? I'm just sitting. I'm not harming anyone."

The officer looks like he might just sigh so heavily with irritation that he blacks out. The pet waits, a little hopeful, but it doesn't happen. "Listen. Look. You get up and walk away, I'll pretend I never saw you. Nice people in this neighborhood, they don't want you whoring around for your dinner, got it?"

His heart stops - for just a second - before it beats again. He swallows, hard. Some of his defiance has faded before he finds a retort. "What-... What makes you think-"

"I've seen you before, buddy. Down by the warehouse district."

"Why not arrest my John?"

"Your John?"

"Well, how the hell did you think I got here from the warehouse district in the first place, numbnuts? We were having a good time til his fucking girlfriend called."

"... Jesus. Come on. Up you go, get outta here and I won't even look. Just get."

He doesn't have a choice. The runaway pushes himself uneasily to his feet, watching as the cop backs up to give him some space. There's that, at least.

His stomach growls.

When did he eat last? Shit. A day ago? Two?

The flashlight is pointed down, now, and he can see the cop's face. Honestly, he's seen worse. The guy looks pretty fit, too. And Jesus, he's so hungry...

"I don't suppose you'd give me a ride," He says, cocking his head to the side. Defiance slips into practiced seduction with only a shiver of self-loathing down his spine. "I can pay for it."

"Don't bribe me. You don't have a fucking cent or you wouldn't be a whore, Boxie."

"I didn't say I'd pay with money." He smiles, like this is a silly flirty joke between them. "Trust me, I'm good at this. I'm so good. Don't you ever wonder what fucking a Romantic is like? Like a Lamborghini with spread legs, yeah? You drive me back to the warehouse district, you don't check my barcode, and I make this the best shift you've worked in days..."

The cop thinks, jaw working, looking off to one side and then the other. The pet watches him take off his wedding ring and slip it into his pocket with a mix of triumph and hatred.

"Right. Yeah. Get in the back. We'll find a place to park."

His heart thumps and his wrist itches under the ink as he slides into the back of the squad car, with doors that don't open from the inside and a screen he can't break through. Maybe he'll be murdered and dumped in a ditch somewhere. Maybe the cop will just take him to jail.

Or maybe he really will drive him back.

It's always a roll of the dice when he offers himself for a ride.

Sooner or later he'll run out of luck.

#bbucommunity #bbu community days #whump #pet whump #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #jameson bb #prostitution tw #tw derogatory language #demeaning language #police harassment #writing #implied dubcon

[cryptidwritings]

Last Line Tag

Thank you for the tag @little-peril-stories (forever ago lol. Sorry it took so long)

I live to break the rules. Here's the last paragraph I've written instead of a last line.

Cw: implied dubcon

From a future chapter of Dark Water:

But, the Isidro he had once been was long gone—buried in an empty grave underneath a gray tombstone, cursed to blood and bones at the bottom of the Captain’s heel and in stranger’s beds. Bent, bruised, and beaten within an inch of itself; reduced to a beating heart willing the flesh not to rot, a zombified version of a man...

A means to an end.

Tagging: @wintherlywords @arrowmoose

@kosmic-kore @illarian-rambling @will-o-the-wips

#dark water by jovi #whump snippet #writeblr #whumpblr #pirate whump #implied dubcon

[suzukiblu]

For the fanfic guessing game thing i guess "good" or "well behaved"? *shh don't worry if these seem catered to a very specific au, I'm not horny gripping about it at all*

"Are you proud of being made in my image, Kon-El? Of wearing my crest?" Superman asks, tilting his head inquiringly, and Kon seriously considers just hitting his knees right here, presumably public hallway be damned. He's doing this for a reason, obviously, but also–but also–

But also he could just hit his knees right here and let Superman do whatever he wants to him. 

"Yes, sir," he says, and swallows as Superman smiles at him again. It's still the exact same damn smile as their reality's Superman's, except for how it's focused on him. 

Kon can't think of a single time either Superman or Clark Kent has smiled at him like that. 

"Good boy," Superman says, still smiling, and Kon wants to prove it's true.

#that-link-on-the-internet #I'm not SURE this is the AU you were thinking of but it seemed by FAR the likeliest candidate lol #implied dubcon #wip: mirrorverse!clark and kon's daddy issues

[mychlapci]

Glad that my oral sex as a declaration of love has been such a hit with the fellow freaks

Been thinking more about it and i think there’s another layer to why it means love and affection and a desire to be a real mate other than just only one party gets real stimulation and pleasure. It’s also something that can’t be forced. I think mers breathe through a combination of their nose and vents on their sides that act kinda like gills (if they even need to breathe). This means that you can’t use the trick of plugging someones nose until they have to open their mouth to breathe, so you can’t force anything that way. You can’t really pry anyones mouth open. Mer teeth are very sharp, and even if for some reason they aren’t, their bite force is still very impressive. Definitely not something you’d want you fingers caught in. And even if you did get their mouth open, do you really want your spike or valve around that? That bite force applies to everything in the mouth. In order for a mer to be forced into oral, the instigator would have to be very strong, have picked a very weak partner, or be very in to mutilation (sunder, probably). It’s not like penetration, which can just be crammed in without too much struggle, really. To make a mer perform oral is very difficult. The only way to force it would be performing it to an unconscious partner

Another aspect too is the trust in being on the receiving end. Like i said earlier, that bite force hurts. You’re trusting your partner to not just chomp down on your spike or your node. You’re letting them put one of their best defences right up and personal with one of your most vulnerable parts. It’s quite poetic, really

yes exactly, I was also thinking that. Mer teeth are fucking sharp, you wouldn't really want to force anyone's mouth near your array in the first place, it's the number one no-no in the mer society. You can cram your spike into just about anyone's valve when you need to satisfy the breeding drive, but using your mouth is completely out of the question. The partner has to be willing, both of them have to be.

#valveplug #merformers #implied dubcon

[hell-hirsch]

#kakashi hakate #kakaobi #uchiha obito #hatake kakashi #implied dubcon #sharingan #naruto fanart #kakashi fanart #I forgot his mole oops

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Streetkid au Chris! What does a typical day look like for you?

This Chris is clearly on something even now. He looks sleepy, and sits far too still on a beat-up couch in an abandoned house with boards over the windows. "I... I don't know." He speaks slowly and carefully, words dropping out of him like stones. "I wake up... I find some stuff... to keep me calm. Eat sometimes. Sometimes... forget to. Go out... Go out in the sun. Sleep more... Go out at night. Sometimes... people take me home. Shower... Fuck them. If... they want. Sleep again..."

#streetkid chris au #chris asks #implied dubcon #drug use