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whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

I don’t think kissing will help Beck and Helle’s relationship, would probably make things worse and/or weirder, but it never hurts to try (/j)

ive waited for so long to do this

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, mind control, lady whumpee, murder, death, starvation/intense hunger, humiliation, dehumanisation, intimate whumper, dubcon kiss

Being a vampire — and a hungry one at that — was an experience entirely detached from anything that had come before it. Beck was acutely aware of the scent of every single person they passed, all the little sounds of the street, and every small movement.

According to Helle, using charm should've been easier when he was famished, since the instincts should've kicked in, but he couldn't seem to get the hang of it. He chalked it up to being new to all of this, and simply stayed in the shadows as instructed. He would try again another time, when his mind wasn't so focused on nothing but blood blood blood.

"Control yourself, will you? You do not need to stare at every single passerby," Helle said in a low voice, and Beck quickly averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm just..."

"Hungry, I know." They gestured towards an alley, and Beck froze for a moment. It felt familiar. It was the same alley in which Helle had caught him, altering the course of his life forever. "This is a good place to get some privacy. Trust me on that."

"I'm... not sure I can hurt a human," he forced out, despite every fibre of his being screaming for murder. He wanted to hurt a human. He wanted to feed.

Helle saw through it as well, and gave him a condescending smile. "Yes, I can imagine the moral dilemma. Now, stay here. I shall bring you a suitable idiot."

Beck stayed as ordered. Suppressing the unwanted memories of torment and anguish was much easier when he had this constant buzzing in his head, when the desire to feed was so loud that it drowned out all the thoughts about Master not being a very kind person.

He tried to coax out some magic from within himself. He felt awfully vulnerable standing in the alley all alone, without any charm, without anyone to protect him — but it seemed impossible. He was missing a crucial step, no doubt, something he either didn't understand or Helle wasn't telling him. At the very least, describing it as instinct was a stretch. There was nothing instinctual about trying and failing over and over.

When Helle returned, they had a middle-aged woman with them, giggling and giving them the most adoring looks. She wasn't enthralled, merely charmed, but that wasn't the most interesting thing about her: it was her scent, the blood rushing in her veins right under her exposed skin. She smelled divine.

His mouth was already watering, but he stayed in place, waiting for Helle to give him the green light. They didn't. They made small talk with the woman like they had all the time in the world, only ever glancing at him to relish the hungry looks he gave them. It was maddening, and yet he made no attempt to protest.

Eventually, finally, they turned her around to face Beck instead. "Well? Try it out. Try to enthrall her."

"Can't I– can't I just feed first?" The woman's smile faltered as she kept looking at Beck, squinting as her mind tried to make sense of the image. He whimpered in fear, stepping further back into the shadows so his vampiric features would stay mostly hidden. "I mean– I meant–"

"Relax, Beck. If she snaps out of it, I can definitely enthrall her. But I would like to see you do it."

"What are you talking about?" she asked with a nervous laugh, but Helle just rolled their eyes.

"Come on," they prompted. "Try it. You should feel... how do I explain this? It should come naturally. You should be able to get a sense of her mind, how it works, what makes her tick. You should almost be able to see a little map of it in your head, with all the best places to hit so she becomes willing to listen."

"I, I can't do this, I don't get anything–"

"Beck, come here."

He swallowed and willed himself to move, standing in front of his soon-to-be victim and his sire. All the talk about vampire magic was definitely making the charm slip, and her eyes widened in recognition. "You're a vampi–" Helle quickly covered her mouth, shushing her.

"Easy," they murmured. "Stay nice and still for him, yes? He is quite new to the business of biting innocents."

She whined pathetically, but she stood no chance against them. Beck was beginning to feel a little nauseous; a feeling that somehow didn't affect the hunger in the least.

"Look into her eyes," Helle instructed softly, and Beck did, detecting nothing but the obvious terror. "Try to feel her out. Imagine what it would feel like to rip her apart and take a peek inside — that is usually how I feel when enthralling humans."

"I c-can't– I can't, I can't do that, it's not working– I just feel hungry, please, I n-need– I need to drink, please–" Nothing made sense. He wanted to sink his fangs into her neck, not his claws into her mind. He didn't care for any of that right now. His eyes kept flickering to the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder where he wanted to bite, and he just couldn't concentrate.

Helle sighed and muttered something about impatience and gluttony, but he didn't even catch it. "Alright. Let us see how you do with venom. Just let it flow, do not concern yourself with her state of mind."

That was all he wanted to hear. He grabbed the woman and bit down, an action that really was instinctual. He'd never been a fan of anatomy, and yet he could pinpoint exactly where to pierce her skin to get to the blood most efficiently.

The woman cried out in pain, muffled by Helle's hand over her mouth. "Beck? Are you not using any venom?" they asked, a little confused. "I am telling you to use it."

He barely heard it. He gulped down as much blood as he could in the shortest amount of time possible, filling his stomach for what felt like the first time in weeks.

"Beck," they hissed, and he quickly pulled away, licking his lips clean. Oh, Helle sounded pissed. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, Master, I'm sorry, I–"

"So use the goddamn venom."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. The rich taste of blood lingered on his tongue, and he would've rather lied about not understanding how venom worked than be denied more. But he couldn't bring himself to. Lying to Helle seemed like an egregious sin.

"I don't know how," he said quietly.

They looked utterly dumbfounded. "What?"

"I d-don't know how."

"It should be the easiest thing in the world! Resisting the use of venom should be the hard part." They nodded towards the woman. "Try again."

"Yes, Master."

Once again, he didn't feel anything aside from the blood flowing into his mouth. He didn't feel like he was pumping anything back in, nor did he feel any sort of urge to do so.

Helle didn't stop him this time. Not when the woman's struggles began to get weaker, not when she passed out, not when she was starting to get unnaturally cold for a living human — and he didn't have the discipline to stop on his own.

He only pulled away when it became too hard to suck more blood out of her, and even then he was a little hesitant. As soon as he realised what he'd done, though, his perspective suddenly shifted. This wasn't a rat anymore... this was a human. This was a real human, with a real life, with friends and family–

Not anymore.

Beck stumbled backwards, horrified when Helle took out a stake and put a hole in her chest, before carelessly tossing her aside. They didn't look disappointed, or angry. No, there was something about their expression... Fondness? Excitement? They didn't even reprimand him for not using venom the second time around.

"I didn't mean to," he whispered. "I didn't– I didn't mean to kill her, oh god, I killed her– I didn't mean to!"

"Who cares?" they asked cheerily. "Who even cares? Oh, this is amazing." They walked over to him, cupping his cheeks and completely disregarding his panic. "You failed to charm a single human. You failed to enthrall your victim. You were not even able to use venom, arguably the easiest vampire trick in the book."

"I, I just killed a woman– Can we not talk about magic..? I'll try harder, just not now, please, I don't–"

"You do not get it, do you? Oh, you sweet, stupid thing." If they'd had a tail, they would've been wagging it by now. There was no way to even describe how happy they looked about the revelation they were about to share with him. "You are useless. Unable to survive on your own. You are what we would call the runt of the litter."

Beck's mind was reeling. He was still stuck on the murder part, but now Helle was giving him a new anxiety. "Wh– what? No, no, I just need a bit more time– I'm sure I can do it, I just–"

"You have had ample time. You should have at least felt an inkling of magic, but you did not." He was pretty sure everything Helle was describing was bad. So why did they seem so ecstatic about it?

"I... I don't... wanna b-be a runt," he muttered, unsure of how to handle his sire's palpable joy. "That's very bad, isn't it? I don't– I don't wanna feel so vulnerable forever."

It happened so abruptly. He was too caught up in his racing thoughts and guilty conscience to move a muscle when Helle suddenly leaned in and kissed him, passionate and demanding, like they just couldn't stay away from him for a single moment longer. Like they never even wanted to stop.

"You are going to be this vulnerable," they murmured against his lips. "Forever. My pathetic little vampire, too weak to run, unable to hide... Helpless to do anything but sit in my mansion and depend on me. Beck, you continue to be absolutely perfect." They gave him one last peck on the lips then let go of him, leaving him stunned, confused, and embarrassed. "Come along. We have more to discuss than I anticipated."

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #vampire whumpee #mind control #lady whumpee #murder #death #starvation humiliation #dehumanisation #intimate whumper #dubcon kiss

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befuddled-calico-whump · 3 months

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happy valentine's day!

#all of these (except one) make me go 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️#oc meme #Cinderglass #riotkings #wildefire #never/never #t$$#dubcon kiss #(just one)#vic looks off but i don't respect him enough to change that #fluff

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flowersarefreetherapy · 4 months

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Sunshine House: When Skies are Grey

CW: Mentioned minor character death, dehumanization, BBU typical violence, dubcon kiss, light dubcon, blood, violence, pet whump

001 is silent. They stare at nothing, ignoring the cries of the newer members. Lance punches the bars of their cage as he walks by and all 001 does is bare their teeth in a snarl. 002 watches them out of the corner of his eyes, though he drops his gaze when Lance passes him.

The screams and cries echoing through the room wash over 002 like waves. The squeal of rusting metal stabs his head as the handlers grab one of the newer fighters. Fighting and screaming and then they go limp with a blow to the head. They aren’t coming back, not after a hit like that. He’s seen it happen all too well.

“Damn,” 003 whispers. She crouches back on her heels, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with one mitted hand. Dirt smears across her cheek. “I forget how loud they are.”

002 dips his head a fraction. Enough for agreement, but not enough to be noticed by the handlers. He watches 003 in envy. Her small frame allows her to fully sit up in the cage. Not only that, but she doesn’t mouth off or bite when the handlers are near, so she doesn’t wear the muzzle that so many of the other fighters do. His cramping jaw and back scream in protest as he faces front again.

001 growls as Lance steps back in. As the door swings shut, they hear the roar of the crowd. 002 can smell the bloodlust in the air. Lance saunters over and crouches in front of 001. He slips his fingers through the bars of the cage and cups their face. Behind the muzzle, they bare their sharpened teeth.

“I know, baby, you’re so excited to get out there.” Lance grabs a handful of their short hair and twists their head to the side. “Ready to go get your little paws dirty?”

002 ducks his head. It’s never good to get in the sights of a handler. 005 had his hand broken because he didn’t snap to attention quick enough. 010 was beaten unconscious and one of the fighters who didn’t live long enough was taken from the room every night. He’s seen what happens to those who capture attention and he wants nothing to do with it.

“Sadly, you’re not fighting yet.” Lance tugs on the muzzle, pulling 001 close. They growl. “Hush, little puppy. You know your mouth has better uses.” He pushes himself to his feet, both knees popping, and snaps his fingers. “002, here, mutt.”

He shuffles back from the door, keeping his head lowered as Lance unlocks the cage. 002 lets the handler grab his collar and pull him out into the center of the room. The gazes from the other fighters burn the back of his neck and he lets out a slow breath.

“Heel,” Lance orders. 002 crawls at his side, keeping pace until they reach the entrance to the ring. “Good boy.”

A small flush of pride overrides his fear at the screams of the crowd. He doesn’t need to be dragged. He follows orders. He is a good mutt, not like the others. Not like 001, who has to wear a shock collar. Not like 003, who keeps her anger hidden and lashes out at the other fighters.

Good boy. I’m a good mutt.

“Ready?” Lance asks, unclipping his collar. 002 dips his head in agreement. His muzzle is next and he slowly opens his mouth, relaxing his jaw as much as he can. Tensed muscles will do nothing to save him in a fight. “Good mutt, knew you were. You’re gonna fight good tonight. There’s a reward if you do, puppy.”

002’s snaps up. A reward? He doesn’t get rewards. He’s just a stupid mutt, he doesn’t deserve rewards. He only does what he’s told. It’s nothing special.

Lance smirks and scratches behind his ear. 002 melts into the soft touch, whining a little as the crowd quiets and he hears the muffle voice of the announcer. Lance pulls up on his hair and he gets to his feet, rolling his neck and stretching out his arms.

The door opens and he walks into the ring with all the confidence he doesn’t have.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The bell digs and the crowd roars in approval, along with the few cries of disappointment as bets are lost. 002 staggers to the edge of the ring, blood dripping from his fingertips. His gaze stays locked on the body in the middle of the arena, the young man gasping his final breaths from a throat torn beyond recognition.

002 swallows hard, mouth thick with the taste of blood. Something is stuck in his teeth. Bile slides up his throat, burning against the blood. A whistle sounds behind him, breaking his concentration.

“Come, mutt,” Lance says. “Now.”

Several handlers wipe the blood from his hands and mouth and Lance hands him a cup of water with the order to drink. He does as he’s told, nothing snapping into focus. All he can feel is the thrashing body under him as he tears out the young man’s throat.

“Heel,” Lance orders.

002 follows him out of the room and into a maze of staircases and hallways. He swallows, his heart racing faster than in the ring. The collar he doesn’t remember being placed around his throat seems to tighten with every breath. Where are they going? What is happening? Is this his reward?

“There he is, our champion fighter!”

His head snaps up. He stands in the middle of a room, staring down his master. With a flinch, he drops to his knees, ducking his head in an effort to appear invisible. A chuckle makes its way through the room, then conversation returns. He knows his master’s voice, but there are a few others he knows from meetings before.

“Here, mutt,” his master orders. 002 crawls to his side, the carpet soft under his fingertips. There is blood still caked under his nails. “Good boy. You did good today.”

“Thank you, master,” he whispers in a voice like gravel.

“I won a lot of money on you, mutt.” A different voice, someone he knows. “You’ve made us both very happy, so I thought a reward was in order.”

“You’re going to spoil him, Patrick.”

“It’s not spoiling. Cam doesn’t mind, does he?”

“No, master.”

A shudder races down his spine. No, no, no. 002 draws in his shoulders and the back of his neck burns. No, he doesn’t want this. This isn’t a reward he wants. He whimpers softly, twisting his hands in his lap.

“Mutt.”

His head snaps up. Cameron is there, dressed in nothing but a too-long shirt. Icey blue eyes stare 002 down, calculatingly watching his reactions. The coppery smell of blood assaults his senses. His master’s fingers snap, catching his attention. 002 ducks his head again.

“Be nice,” his master orders. “I don’t want you injuring Patrick’s merchandise.”

Bare feet enter his vision and cool fingers slide down the dent left behind by his muzzle. The flesh on 002’s arms raises and he whimpers as Cameron lifts his face upward. He can’t breathe. He swallows back the urge to rip his hands off him.

“Hey, fighter,” Cameron croons, crouching down. His shirt slides up his thighs. “I saw you fighting today. I didn’t miss a single second. How could I not pay attention?” His other hand slides down 002’s arm. “Not with strength like this.”

002 whimpers again. The word “no” balances on the tip of his tongue. He swallows it back, acutely aware of his master watching him. His fingers twitch at his side, desperate to push Cameron away with each brush of his skin against his.

Cameron leans forward, lips brushing against 002’s ear. “The way you held that poor fighter down? So easily, didn’t even break a sweat, hardly noticed. You know, there are far better ways to be using that strength of yours. Want me to show you?”

His hand slides up 002’s thigh, slipping between his legs. He freezes, staring into the middle distance as he fights to breathe. Everyone continues their conversations, ignoring the two pets. 002’s gaze darts to his master. He’s talking and doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Please,” 002 whispers, taking the risk. “Please, I don’t want this.”

“It’s what we’re made for.” Cameron smiles up at him through his lashes, fluttering them a little. “We want this. This is what we’re made for. All of you want this, you just pretend you don’t.” He smiles, like he’s telling a joke. “I’ll make it good. You know that. You know you want me.”

002 shakes his head. “Please . . . I don’t-”

“You aren’t allowed to say no.” Cameron’s voice drops, taking on an edge. “Hurt me, make me scream, make me bleed. You aren’t allowed to say no, they won’t let you.”

002 closes his eyes. If he isn’t allowed to escape, then at least he doesn’t have to see. Cameron’s lips press softly against his collarbones, then his neck, teeth scraping along the edge of his jaw. It doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t feel good, and that’s stupid, because he’s a dumb mutt, this is what he wants, this is what Cameron is good at. This should feel good.

Yet all he wants to do is throw Cameron across the room.

Laughter from somewhere far away. Weight in his lap, Cameron’s hands running through his short hair. His lips press to his ear. Words that he doesn’t hear and his eyes burn with tears he forces away. They have to perform. Like in the ring. Give them a show and they will be happy.

“Come on,” Cameron whispers. “You have to give me something to work with. I can make you feel so good, so please, help me.”

002 finally opens his eyes. Cameron’s face is split in a smile clearly meant to charm and disarm, but all he can focus on is the pain in his eyes. They have to play a part and he takes all his emotions and shoves them into the dark corners where they will stay hidden.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” 002 whispers. His hands shake as he rests them on Cameron’s hips. Bloody fingers on white shirt. He winces at the sight. Will he get in trouble for that?

“Oh honey, I would love you to.” Cameron’s smile is all teeth. “Make me bleed and scream and I will get on my knees for you.”

“I won’t. I won’t do that.”

Cameron cups his face and leans in close, pressing their lips together. This time, 002 responds, leaning into the kiss with all the enthusiasm he can fake. Tears burn his eyes as Cameron’s hands slide down his chest. He lifts his hips slightly, swallowing back a whimper.

“I told you,” Cameron breathes. “I’m good, aren’t I.”

He doesn’t know how long the Romantic kisses him for, how long it is before he slips from his lap to between his legs, bent in half to take him into his mouth, taking his sweet time drawing him towards release. 002 throws his head back, nails digging against Cameron’s scalp, tangling in his hair and yanking without thought. The urge to destroy wars with pleasure. Cameron groans after a particularly harsh tug and he swallows back bile.

Then Cameron is leaning back, wiping his mouth with a smirk. 002 sags, chest heaving as he fights to regain control of his body. He hates this feeling of his body, which has never failed him, acting without his permission. A betrayal, of a kind he can’t name.

“Good boy,” Cameron’s master says. The Romantic returns to sitting dutifully on his lap, his master’s fingers stroking lazy lines down his throat. “Look at your strong fighter now.”

002’s master laughs. “Such an animal. My fighters are the best, but they are too often driven by their carnal urges for me.”

002 crawls to his master’s side, trying his best to subtly fix the waistband of his shorts. In theory, it shouldn’t bother him, but knowing that Cameron watches him makes his hair stand on end. He kneels, resting his weight on his heels, keeping his gaze lowered. For a moment, he wonders what it would be like to have his master treat him with the same kindness as Cameron’s. Tell him how well he’s doing, run his fingers through his short-cut hair, give him a place to himself.

It’s a foolish dream, one he shouldn’t entertain. He is his master’s champion Fighter and Guard.

There is no reason for him to be anything else.

Tagging: @pigeonwhumps@blood-is-compulsory (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#merry Christmas y’all #come and get your Cameron content!#minor character death #dehumanization #violence #dubcon kiss #dubcon #blood #pet whump #bbu #bbu universe #thad #cameron #sunshine house

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painsandconfusion · 8 months

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hello! I found your blog last month and have been scrolling through it like a maniac because your prompts and stories are just. SO. GOOD.

I love love loved Showstopper and shrink was so addictive - i don't know if you're planning on doing part 3 but if you are, I'd love to read it.

... I don't know how to end asks but I figured i should send an ask after reading your great content 💙. I hope it's okay!

Aaa thank you!! I'm so glad you like the writing!! I got -many- other requests for this one so here yall go! Enjoy!

Just Fine

Shrink - Part Three

[Part 1 | Part 2] [Drabble Masterpost]

(tw: knife, arranged/forced marriage, threats, blood, possessive whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, noncon touch, noncon/dubcon kiss)

Whumpee’s stomach churched and twisted. Heart in their throat.

They never really understood that metaphor until now. Not until this moment, arms wrapped tight around themself, clutching at the fine white silks that rippled around their waist.

The door clicked shut behind them.

The second click pulled prickles up from their flesh, dancing up their spine and ghosting over the back of their neck.

Locked.

As if the locks were necessary. No one would interrupt a couple on their marriage night, anyway.

Whumpee wondered vaguely if someone would come if they screamed.

No. No, they knew no one would. Still, it was comforting to think they might.

Whumpee wouldn’t either way.

The third click pulled a twitch from their fingers.

...that wasn’t the door.

One click to close, another to lock - what was the third?? A…second lock-? No- no this one was different. Lighter and higher in pitch. Not from something connected to a thick wooden frame.

They couldn’t stop the flinch that sucked their body tight as Whumper’s fingers ghosted up their arms, rippling a grip just below their shoulders. Warmth pressed against the goosebumps - Whumper’s breath behind their ear. “Why so nervous~?”

Piece of shit - why do you think??

Whumpee just swallowed, head turning a little away from their lips. “Why so handsy?”

Yeah..that’s a decent response. Evasive. Sure. Going with that.

Whumper just laughed, hands slipping around their waist to pull them back - flush against Whumper’s front. Whumper’s chin tucked more fully onto Whumpee’s shoulder now. Nuzzling their nose into the groove between ear and neck.

Inhaling deeply.

Whumpee’s head twisted away from the touch. “Let go.” A flimsy request. They knew that.

Whumper just breathed a hum. Shifting slightly.

A cool blade twisted up to press against Whumpee’s cheek - guiding their face to tilt back to where it was.

Whumpee’s heart skittered to a stop and picked back up again - eyes burning as they obeyed, turning back toward Whumper. Dread rotted in their stomach as the steel slowly warmed, heated by the fear pressed against their cheeks.

“You made me bleed. Isn’t it fair that I get to return the favor~?”

Whumpee clenched away most of the shudder that rolled through them, eyes squeezing shut. “D-on’t you think it’d be suspicious if you carve up my face?”

The knife tapped them twice on the cheek before sliding away. “True,” Whumper murmured. “It’ll be somewhere no one will see - and you’ll ensure that, won’t you?”

Whumpee swallowed thickly. “This isn’t an even trade.” Stubborn.

“There’s not much ‘trade’ involved, darling. You’re mine now, remember~?”

Whumpee wasn’t exactly sure where this rush of bravery came from. They were only aware of their hand shoving Whumper’s arm away from them. Spinning out of the grip. “And you’re mine.”

Whumper blinked at them, knife held limply in hand. Brow raised at the sheer audacity. “Oh?”

..Whumpee couldn’t just back down after that - that would be..pathetic. Whumper got off on things like that.

Instead, they just crossed their arms. “Did you think this was a one way thing?”

Whumper just…stared at them. A little amusement tugged at the corner of their lips. “What were you expecting?”

..okay, this….this is working.

Maybe.

Or maybe this is making it a million times worse.

Either way, Whumper seems pleased - even if that gets them hurt more, Whumper being happy is a good thing, right-?

Sssssure-

They let their eyes flick down over Whumper’s body and back up. “I don’t know much about you, but I do know that you don’t break deals. You don’t go back on your words - I don’t know if that’s a personal thing or if that’s a business strategy or what. What I do know is I just heard you swear yourself to me. To protect. To care. To share everything. Are you going to go back on that for a cheap shot at..what? Petty revenge? Sadism? Amusement?”

Whumper just…looked over them for a long few seconds. Seemingly pondering as Whumpee stared back, desperate to keep their eyes hardened and expectant while the rest of their body was screaming at them to run - pleading, even.

Finally, Whumper took a soft couple steps forward, examining Whumpee’s face. Whumpee held their ground, legs spasming and twitching to run, but forced to stay in place by the sheer defiance and prayer that this act would work.

The knife pricked under their chin, tilting it up.

“I think this is going to work out just fine~”

..what does that even mean?? That didn’t answer the question at all-

Whumpee’s brows pinched together slightly as they searched Whumper’s eyes.

Their own pressed shut, bracing for pain as Whumper leaned in closer.

No pain came.

Whumper was kissing them.

This time, Whumpee didn’t bite.

[Part 1 | Part 2] [Drabble Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbowsandwhumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder343)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

(@wibbly-wobbly-whump and @hold-back-on-the-comfort aren't tagging correctly - if anyone knows of a url change please lmk so i can update it! <3)

#sand asks #continuation #request #shrink #knife #threats #blood #arranged marriage #forced marriage #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #possessive whumper #noncon kiss #dubcon kiss #noncon touch #whumper likeeessss themmmmmm~#love it so heckin much when scenes turn out different than how i expect /gen #love when the ocs just take over #its so fun

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vivisection-and-vampyrism · 3 months

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Fresh blood for vampire bingo ?

Content Warnings: Blood Drinking, Captivity, Weird Horniness, Dubiously Consensual Kiss, Lima Syndrome, Pet Whump, Vampire Whumpee, Human Whumper

Note: This is set eight months into October's captivity.

Keeping a starving vampire in one's basement was risky, to say the least.

October had done its best to earn Falkner's trust, and seemed to genuinely care for him now that it had gotten over its pride. It had quickly exchanged its desire for freedom for readily offered affection.

But still, Falkner had seem the way it eyed him. Those pretty purple eyes fixed on his throat. It was bursting with hunger, and using all its self control not to attack.

His choices were simple. He could either muzzle October again, or find a risk free way to feed it.

After much deliberation, he decided on the latter. What was the harm? It wasn't like he would allow October it bite him. No no, a blood draw would do.

After days spent slowly drawing blood from his veins with a needle, he finally had enough to fill a small glass. It didn't look like much of a meal. But October was a vampire, and this was good enough.

He walked down the stairs, the glass in one hand. His other hand held fast to the guard rail, as his false leg had tripped him up one too many times for him to not support himself.

October was in front of him in an instant. Its hands curled and uncurled in almost systemic gestures of excitement. It was barely restraining itself, entirely too eager at the smell of blood.

Falkner held the glass out. "Take it, angel. It's for you. And it's all you're getting."

October did not hesitate. It snatched the glass from Falkner and drained it in an instant, its forked tongue snaking inside the rim, trying to get at every last drop.

Most humans would have been freaked out by such a sight. But not Falkner. If anything, it excited him.

When his pet was satisfied, or at lesset had accepted that it had consumed all the blood it was allowed, it was finally in the right mind to speak again.

"Thank you," it said, panting slightly. "I am... grateful."

"I thought you might be." Falkner slipped two fingers in the gap between October's collar and its neck, and pulled it closer. "I think the way you prey on blood is disgusting. But I do want to keep you happy."

October smiled, showing off its beautifully curved fangs. "And I think you holding me captive is disgusting, but I am sure we can have some kind of an arrangement."

Falkner couldn't stand it anymore. Why God had given him such a perfect partner in the form of a haughty vampire, he had no idea. But he was in love.

At first, he had found October's painfully low body temperature uncomfortable. But now, with their lips moving against each other in a disgusting fit of passion, he changed his mind.

This suited him just fine.

Taglist: @sulnusoup13 @heavenlyeden @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @excessive-vampires @pigeonwhumps @foresttheblep

#Hart rambles #Home sweet home #Ask #Vampire bingo #Whump #Whumpblr #Vampire whumpee #Human whumper #Vampire hunters #Captivity #Dubcon kiss #Vampire whump #Fantasy whump #Blood

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justplainwhump · 1 year

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Stalker

Posting out of order yet again, sorry!

This closes a gap - the first steps of a recently free Angel on a bumpy road that'll eventually lead to her revovery.

[Angel's story]

Doctor Tim Harris falls in love.

Content: BBU, conditioning, early recovery, predatory behaviour, stalking, very dubcon vibes, dubcon kiss.

The man stood in the shadows of the trees lining the narrow street in one of the worse parts of a better neighbourhood. Big houses with gardens just big enough to not let the curious neighbours too close, but too small for that air of being well-off that the adjacent streets could offer. One of the houses was under construction, from the looks of it had been for years, and it was the one next to it that Tim Harris was interested in.

The pattern of lights behind the windows suggested that the rooms had been made smaller, to accommodate more people. Like a boarding house, maybe. In a way of course, that's what it was.

A safehouse for runaway WRU pets. He knew where it was, because the owners - that probably wasn't a good word, the activists running it - were dangerously incautious. They brought the runaways to his practise, one or two a month, and he treated them after hours, because his ex - before she was his ex - had urged him to do something for the greater good. Things you do for love. And well, money. Of course, he let them pay him for it. He risked his appropriation after all, helping runaways hide their dirty pasts.

One of the volunteers left the house, calling something to say goodbye, and Tim withdrew a little further into the shadows.

He should double his fees, if it was so easy making that safehouse out. Maybe he'd think about that later.

Now, he wasn't here to gather information on pet lib. He was here to gather information on a pet.

Angel. 002238. He knew the number, because he'd looked at it so often, three sessions, until the black lines had faded and soon there'd be nothing left of the bar code.

She'd flirted with him all the time. Not let the pain deter her. He'd remarked to her, that other people cried during the procedure. She'd said that crying made her look less attractive, and she wanted to be at her best for him.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. Her soft, perfect skin, the freckles on her nose, those dark eyes that seemed so knowing and naive at the same time. When he'd asked her for a drink after their first session, the pet lib guy had looked at him like he was a creep and told him that she wasn't ready to consent. The second session, the guy had stayed in the room with them the entire time. That was the day Tim had followed them back home for the first time.

And today, in the last session, he'd managed to give her a message, lean in closely while placing the bandage around her wrist, trying hard not to be distracted by the smell of her hair. "Meet me, outside the house. 8."

She'd just smiled, and let her fingertips run over his hand.

He still shivered, remembering.

It was 8:20 already. But he was patient.

She'd show. He knew it. Her touch had held a promise.

There was light up in the room he'd figured was hers, first floor, second from the left, and he could see a shadowy figure move behind it. The curtains moved aside, the window swung open, and he recognised a halo of blond hair. Angel. Whoever had given her the name, they'd chosen perfectly.

The light in the room went off then, but he could see the open window in the dim street light. A long leg in short pants graciously swinging over the windowsill, another one, and there she was, climbing down the drain pipe. An angel, descending to meet him.

She landed on her feet silently, gaze running over the street, and he stepped forward into the light.

Her smile was as radiant as in his dreams. "Doctor Harris," she said. "You came for me."

"I did," he replied, cleared his dry throat. "Do they... do they lock you up in there?"

"They don't want us to go out at night. Not the newer ones, at least." She shrugged and looked back at the house over her shoulder. "They don't make sense. They say there are no rules, and then there are rules, but if we call them rules, it's wrong again."

"Do you..." The question sounded dumb, but it was half out already, and so Tim rolled with it. "Do you like rules?"

Angel looked at him funnily, thoughtful, with a cute crease between her brows.

"I don't think that's something to like. Rules are necessary. Discipline is necessary. How can I be good, if nobody tells me what to do to be good?"

"You still climbed out of your window, even after they told you to stay inside the house."

"You told me to come out and meet you." The gaze she cast him, half hidden under long lashes, made his heart skip a beat. "I obeyed."

She was taller than him, he realised, even on bare feet, but there was something she did, with her shoulders, or the way she tilted her head, that made her appear shorter, made her look up at him. He liked that.

She kept his gaze still, waiting for a reply. There was one, he knew it, tasted it on his tongue already. Ask any of the pet lib people in the house behind her, it would be the wrong one, for many reasons.

But he wasn't them, and she wasn't just any pet, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and she looked at him in a way none of his former girlfriends ever had.

He gently rested a hand to her cheek, let himself get lost in her gaze for another second, before he spoke, voice rough.

"Good girl."

She all but melted into his kiss.

#bbu #bbu recovery #bbu pet lib #Angel's story #tim harris #creepy caretaker #dubcon #bbu romantic #dubcon kiss

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watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees · 1 year

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First kiss

masterlist

tw: bad dynamic (whumper kissing whumpee, not against her will, but its still an owner/pet kind of relationship), intimate whumper, anxiety mention, scar mention, captivity, stockholm syndrome (sort of, she isnt in love with him, but she doesnt actually mind the captivity situation/is grateful for it) lady whumpee, male whumper, theres like a bigger age difference but everyone involved is an adult

Lili felt a kind of tension she hasn’t felt in a really long time, since her routine changed. Luke told him he will have to rearrange things in her daily program, “just for the two weeks” he promised, but it’s been three and she had no idea, when will she be back to the normal. It didn’t use to bother her to this extent, since she constantly had to adjust to new and new circumstances, couch hopping and taking temporary jobs one after another way back before all this happened. It has been almost three years since she first started working for the man, and then became what she was now. She knew she was supposed to suffer under the strict regime and rules, as Aly was always kind enough to remind her every time it was brought up, but she found comfort in it. Of course it wasn’t ideal, but what life is ideal. The rules here were so much simpler, than in the outside world, she was told what to do and when, she did it and in turn she had a roof over her head, food on the table, and all the people around her made sure to accommodate her with everything she needed. Even the occasional violent outbursts Luke sometimes found her with couldn’t take all that comfort away. She had scars all over her skin, brands and whipmarks as well as the collar, and she was loved. Still better than the life she left behind.

She repeated it over and over in her head while vacuuming the second floor corridor. She passed by her master’s office as quickly as she could. Luke was supposed to go out of town that day, though he was still hadn’t left home yet, and she had no intention in annoying the man with the noise of the vacuum. There was no explicit protocol what she should do when his schedule changes, she was supposed to be vacuuming that exact time according to her timetable. The gut-wrenching feeling of messing up eased away a bit when she passed the door finally. There was no indication that he was annoyed with her, or that he was in the office at all, now that she thought about it.

She was allowed to wear a pair of noise cancelling headphones when she vacuumed, which usually wasn’t too often, but the past three weeks it was almost always on her. She wouldn’t have heard anything with the machine going, so she almost screamed as she was grabbed by the waist from behind. She turned around in a blink of an eye looking up at her owner. His hand was still on her waist, not grabbing, just gently holding, as if she was to fall from the momentum of turning around, which she had to admit wasn’t so out of reach of a thought. With his other hand he pushed her headphones back on her neck.

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to startle you, I just tried to pass by and you didn’t hear me”

“I’m so sorry Sir” she apologized immediately.

“It’s okay, you couldn’t have heard me if you wanted to” he smiled “I know it’s been a really stressful few weeks, all will go back to normal soon”

“Thank you, Sir” she took a deep breath, it wasn’t easy to calm herself down “I have been feeling anxious since the routine switch” she admitted. She realised, she didn’t actually voiced that before to him. It was eating her from the inside, and it already felt better that she said it out loud.

“And you’re doing so good for me! I’m so proud of you” he smiled gently caressing her cheek approvingly. She felt as if her heart was going to explode, but not from getting scared anymore, but from joy. His words were like honey and as always, she obviously believed them.

He took half a step back as if he was going to continue going wherever he was headed before he bumped into her.

It seemed like a spur of the moment decision, he turned back, pulled her in by the waist, cupping her cheek with the other hand and pushed a light kiss onto her lips.

Her mind went blank, the only thing that existed in the world were his lips on hers and the stubble of his chin grazing against her skin. It ended as quickly as it started and he pulled away. How was she supposed to react? She just kept looking at Luke for direction. His lips pulled into a cocky one-sided smile.

“Was that okay?” he asked. She could only answer with a “mhm” and a nod. It was her first kiss ever. And it was not how she imagined it. She read about kisses in books, heard about it in songs and imagined it millions of times before and she still didn’t expect it to feel like that. It was so much simpler and so much more powerful in real life.

He pushed her back to the wall leaning on it with one hand, the other pulling her close by the neck lips almost touching.

“And this?” he asked, but without waiting for an answer he leaned in fully.

Lili didn’t know how to move her mouth or if she even should at all, but he knew exactly what he was doing, so it only took seconds for her to join the rhythm of his lips. It ended way too soon in her opinion, but she didn’t dare say a word, she probably couldn’t even have if she wanted to.

“I won’t make a habit out of this, but think about it when you’re stressed” Luke grinned, and this time really took a step back and headed to the stairs, leaving her leaning against the wall trying to get herself together. She only noticed that moment the vacuum was still going left next to her on the ground.

#whump #oc whump #captivity whump #fluff #dubcon kiss #lady whump #tw scars #anxiety mention #danse macabre original story

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whumpshaped · 1 year

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woooo spk content ! this happens in captivity, couple months after kane is brought home by seth. this is an rp between me and @whumpsday !

spk masterlist

tw dubcon kiss, implied noncon, mentions of noncon and past trauma

It had been a while since Seth brought Kane home. Things weren't too bad, as of now, but Pumpkin was pretty sure they were about to become quite bad. Specifically... they couldn't stop thinking about how Seth might want to... use Kane for all those things he'd been using them for.

It was a strange thing to ask, they knew that. But if they didn't ask, and Kane ended up hurt because of it, they would never get over the guilt.

"Um..." They saw the movement from the corner of their eye, and knew they had Kane's attention. He always reacted immediately, to the smallest sounds. "Sir likes to... Sir sometimes likes to, uh... use me for, um, different... stuff," they started quietly. "Instead of just, uh... plain... hurt. He um... he likes t-to... use m-my body... And, and I was just- I was wondering, um... have, have you had any... experience with that? Before?"

Their face was bright red as they spoke, not fully believing they were admitting to such things, and also asking someone else about them.

Kane tensed up immediately. He'd guessed that Sir was sexually abusing Pumpkin with how they'd come back with hickeys sometimes, but he couldn't bring himself to ask them if Sir meant to do the same to him.

"No," he said quietly. "The hunters never did anything like that, beyond just taking my clothes away. I've never even... before, either. I've never been with anyone." He couldn't look them in the eye. "W-why? Does Sir want to...?"

"I don't know," they said hurriedly. They didn't want to scare Kane, they didn't mean to. "I don't know... 'm just a pet, I wouldn't know..." Kane had never done stuff like that before. God, their heart broke for him. "N-not even... not even a kiss?"

Kane shook his head, embarrassed. No one had ever wanted him that way. "Nope."

A pit of dread was beginning to form inside him, beyond the one that was always there. The idea that any day, Sir could decide it was time to use him in new, horrible ways was terrifying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Pumpkin remembered their first kiss. It was dark, and they were out of it from all the drinks. The stranger didn't care about all that. He wanted a kiss, and he was going to get his kiss whether they wanted it or not. They winced at the memory, knowing Kane's first kiss would be even worse than that. Unless-

"D-do you- do you want... me to b-be your first kiss instead of Sir? So... so it's not so... daunting..?" Their heart was hammering in their chest as they offered. They didn't really think anyone would want a ruined, disgusting thing like them to be their first kiss, but they felt like they had to at least ask. There wasn't much else they could offer.

"Yes!" Kane agreed hurriedly, Pumpkin's offer cutting through the stress and fear. "I- a first kiss is supposed to be special. It's supposed to be with someone you love, or someone you're marrying. And I know we're not, we're not like that, but I love you. You're my best friend. I don't- I don't want it to be Sir."

It was supposed to be special, Kane was right. They didn't think they met the definition of the word in the least, but they could also see how Kane, who wasn't in love with Seth, would think of them as more comforting. His best friend...

They crawled out of their cage, suddenly a little nervous. It was just a kiss. It was Kane's first kiss. They were about to take that from him, and maybe Seth wouldn't even want to do anything like that to a vampire. Maybe it would be in vain. Maybe they were making a mistake.

"I don't know whether it'd come to that," they said again. "I- maybe I'm being stupid. Are you... sure you want this?"

"Please." Kane was scared, and he knew he didn't want it to be Sir, and he knew that Pumpkin was the only person in his life that cared about him. He trusted them more than anyone else in the world. His voice came out small. "Please, I don't want it to be him. I'm sure."

Pumpkin nodded and crawled over to him. God, they didn't want to be another source of trauma. They didn't. But Kane said he was sure, so this was fine, right? They were trying to do good.

They cupped his face, smiling a little. "You don't have to stress it, then. Since- since it's just me. Just close your eyes and try to relax."

For a moment, it crossed their mind how weird it was that they had become so... comfortable with things like this. That they could just offer a kiss to anyone now, that they didn't even think much of it. Their younger self would've surely been astounded.

They leaned in and kissed him, in a gentle, loving way. It was nothing like the kisses they'd shared with strangers before, or the rough, violating kisses Seth had forced on them. It was slow, and it was innocent, and it was over in a few seconds.

Kane couldn't even allow himself to think about the kiss much in the moment, only able to focus on the fact that there was a human on his mouth and he was so hungry. He definitely wouldn't be able to do this at all without the infrequent feedings.

But just like that, it was over. He'd had his first kiss, with someone he loved, even if it wasn't that kind of love. He was terrified about what all this implied about what Sir intended to do with him, but at least he wasn't alone.

He hugged Pumpkin close. "Thank you for being my first kiss."

They nuzzled up to him, glad to hear Kane was genuinely happy about it - as happy as one could get in captivity, they supposed. Maybe it wasn't a mistake.

"I wish I could do more," they muttered. "I... I hope I was wrong in assuming anything. I love you."

"I love you too."

taglist: @whumpsday @whump-queen @lost-in-labradorite-halls @hidden-dreamland @lonesome--hunter @melancholy-in-the-morning

#whump #emotional whump #trauma #dubcon kiss #noncon mention #past noncon #spk #pumpkin baby #kane

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redfeatherdaemon · 1 year

Text

The Man with all the Tattoos

Fandom: My hero academia

Ship: Bakugou Katsuki/ Iida Tenya

wordcount: 1047

Summary: Iida spots a man with a lot of tattoos and judges a book by its cover. Bakugou gets to kiss a goody two shoes.

Link

#bakugou katsuki/iida tenya #Read on AO3 #MHA #BNHA #Arcade #AU #Bakugou didn't get into UA #kinda turned into a vigilante #knife #dubcon kiss #bnha ficlet #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bakuiida

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flowersarefreetherapy · 6 months

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Hold On: There Is No Morning Glory

CW: Emotional whump, negative internal dialogue, implied past conditioning, dubcon kissing, complicated relationship dynamics

Previously, Star had been dreading this shift. Just him and Cindy, and her boyfriend who comes in halfway through her shift and doesn't leave. Ezra is at class and normally Star would feel his absence throughout his whole body.

Today is different. He moves through orders with robotic precision. Mixing and blending and handing out scones that usually melt in his mouth but the one he has on break tastes like ashes. Cindy glances at him but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t trust himself to speak either. Just make it through the shift, clock out, and–

No. Because Ezra can’t pick him up. Over the weeks they had formed a habit of him picking Star up, going to the Castillos with him, and staying late as they play games and talk for hours. Not now, not today, because he has his bonded waiting for him.

“It isn’t really my business to pry,” Cindy says during a lull in the customers. “But is everything alright?”

Star nods. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She draws out the word, one perfect eyebrow raised, somehow looking skeptical and understanding at the same time. Her eyeshadow is red today.

Like blood.

Star shakes the thought away. He has to make it through this shift without crying in the freezer. His manager is already concerned enough as it is, he cannot be called into the office again. Instead, he takes a deep breath, plasters on a welcoming smile, and goes to greet the next customer.

At the end of the shift, Cindy’s boyfriend walks over, keys in hand. They kiss and laugh about something. Star ignores them, slowly pulling on his jacket. He grabs his phone and checks it. No messages from Thad. Who is picking him up? He swallows back the lump in his throat. It’s a small change. He can handle it. Why is he getting worse at being able to handle things? Before he would barely blink. Why has it changed now?

“Star!”

Star’s head snaps up. Ezra stands in the doorway, a slight smile on his face. He’s wearing the dark leather jacket that matches his eyes and highlights the broadness of his shoulders. Beyond all that, it’s the joy in his eyes that draws Star forwards, moving before he realizes.

“Hey there,” Ezra says. He sounds genuinely happy. “How’s your day been?”

“Good,” Star whispers, resting his forehead on Ezra’s shoulder. “Long. I, I, I’m tired.”

Ezra’s fingers comb through his hair. “Come on, let’s get you home. I have some leftover study candy I saved for you.”

Can I share with Daniel? “That sounds, um, that sounds–thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

Star follows Ezra to the car, afraid of each step he takes. Closer to the car means closer to going home, closer to seeing Daniel, closer to being reminded so vividly of his stupid, selfish choices. This is all his fault. All. His. Fault.

You don’t deserve candy. You don’t deserve his kindness. You don’t deserve any of this. Stupid whore.

“How was, was, um, how was your day?” Star whispers as Ezra pulls into traffic.

“It was good. Long. Paying attention to lectures was hard today.”

Star glances at Ezra, whose white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel tells him everything he needs to know. He’s angry, very angry. At him? No. Yes. Maybe? Does he hate him now, for going back to Daniel? Is he allowed to go back to Daniel? Star twists his hands in his lap, letting out a slow breath as he stares into oncoming traffic.

“Have much home, homework?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Good.”

Silence again. Star blinks rapidly, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes. He can’t cry. His cheeks get red when he cries and then he looks ugly. Ezra doesn’t want him to look ugly. He’s supposed to be pretty and poised and perfect, desirable. Attractive. Daniel thinks he’s pretty. Daniel loves him, even when his cheeks and nose are splotchy from tears. Ezra won’t love him when he sees how ugly Star actually is.

“Cindy made cookies today,” Star whispers. “She, she, she showed me how.”

“That’s fun.”

“I was, was hoping you could, um, maybe you could show me? Next time?”

“I don’t usually make the cookies. I make the sandwiches.”

Star swallows back a sob. It catches in his throat and he hurries to cough, to cover up the sound, make sure that Ezra doesn’t get suspicious. Five more minutes, then they’ll be home. He can hide upstairs and cry then.

Ezra clears his throat. “Um, but I would love to teach you if that’s what you want.”

Oh. Star sucks in a deep breath, then another, then another. A tear rolls down his cheek. No, no, no, no, he can’t cry! Not here! Not right now! He wipes his sleeve across his face, pretending more tears aren’t spilling free.

“Hey.” Ezra’s voice is soft, low. He holds out his hand and Star grips it, hating how his body shakes. “Hey, stjerne, what’s wrong?”

“Are, are, are you mad?” Star hiccups. He swipes again at his face, wincing as snot catches on his sleeve. Such an ugly crier. Stop that right now, starlight, no one is going to want you looking like that. “Are you mad at, at, at me?”

“No! No, no, no, I’m not mad at you, stjerne. I’m just . . .” Ezra sighs. “There’s a lot going on right now, Star. That’s all. A lot I have to think through.”

Star grips his hand so tightly he feels the bones shift. But he cannot make himself let go. Some small part of his brain whispers that if he lets go of Ezra’s hand, then he will never get him back again. He will be gone and leave and he cannot imagine his world without Ezra. Without Daniel.

“I, I understand.”

The car falls silent. Star scrubs at his face, hoping the splotching goes away. He can’t look ugly when he sees Daniel. He has to always look his best. Does he? Does Daniel still care? The Castillos don’t care, but they aren’t his bonded and they have other ideas about what he should be doing and saying and acting. They say he’s free and can do what he wants, but Star knows that isn’t true.

The car stops and Ezra puts the car in park. The silence overwhelms Star’s senses and he focuses on the ticking of the engine as it cools down. After a moment, he unbuckles and reaches for the door handle.

“Are you, you coming to dinner?”

Ezra pushes locs back from his face. “I don’t know. I have a lot of homework to do.”

You just said you don’t have much. Why are you lying? Oh. Daniel. Daniel is here and he’s who Star should be focusing on, not the man who taught him to dip fries into a milkshake and which hair dye is the best for different types of hair and how to make the latte art he loves. But Daniel. Who taught him to cook and begged the handlers to leave him alone and was so soft and kind, no matter how Star acted.

“Oh. That, that’s fine.” He pulls the sleeves of his work jacket over his fingers. “Thank you for, for, for driving me home.”

“No problem.” Ezra glances at the door, then says, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Star nods and slips out of the car. His shoe lands in a puddle and he flinches. Now his sock is going to be wet and cold and he’s going to have to change them before dinner when he doesn't want to and he takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He digs his nails into his palms and counts to five.

“Stjerne?”

“I, I’m coming.”

Star hurries up to the door, Ezra right at his side. His hands shake as he reaches for his keys. Ezra beats him, sliding them into the lock with precision. Star keeps his gaze lowered as the door unlocks and Ezra steps back. Silence again. He hates the silence. From inside the house he hears the faint strains of upbeat music. Thad is home, hopefully cooking.

“Ezra?” Star whispers. Please go, please don’t leave me, please stay here, I don’t want you to fight him, I want you to be happy, please kiss me, please please please please! What do I want? Help me!

Ezra smiles. The easygoing smile Star loves so much, the one he remembers so clearly from their first meeting when he gave him that cup and a scribbled number he couldn’t read. With a flourish, he takes Star’s hand and kisses it.

“I love you so, so much, Star.”

“I, I, I love you, Ezra.”

Before he can question the choice, Star has his arms around Ezra and kisses him, hard and long, not pausing to breathe because if he moves away, he fears he will lose Ezra forever. His back knocks against the door and Ezra’s hands wrap around his hips and Star melts into him. The kiss deepens and his hands slide down, brushing against Ezra’s waistband.

“Star,” Ezra breathes. “We-”

“Please,” Star whispers. He doesn’t care that they’re outside. It doesn’t matter. What matters is keeping Ezra here and with him. “Please, don’t–stay for, for dinner? Please?”

“I can’t.” Ezra leans back. Star shivers in the sudden absence of body heat. “I have to get home. I have a lot of homework.”

“Oh.”

Ezra steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets. He smiles again and blows him a kiss before heading to the car. Star watches him go, leaning against the door, biting the inside of his lip until the taste of copper fills his mouth. Through tears, he watches Ezra pull out of the driveway and stays there until he can no longer see the car.

Then he takes a deep breath and steps into the house.

Tagging: @blood-is-compulsory @darkthingshappen @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @whumpinggrounds @pigeonwhumps @cepheusgalaxy (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#emotional whump #negative internal dialogue #implied past conditioning #dubcon kiss #complicated relationship dynamics #star my beloved #ezra my boy #hold on: i still need you

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painsandconfusion · 1 year

Note

How about some person (albeit OC, generic, or anyone), being interrogated for being suspected to be a spy? (Whether they are is up to you)

Who Did You Meet?

(tw: dubon touch, dubcon kiss, fingore, hand whump, knife, blood, ruining a perfectly good table, poor knife safety)

“Who did you meet last night?”

Whumpee almost flickered to a stop at the question, but they kept the knife moving smoothly, slicing perfect quarters of tomato. “...who? It was just me - Lance left around closing.”

“No - I mean after that.” Whumper trailed around the island, fingers ghosting across the countertop. “After you left the office.”

The memories flickered unbidden across their mind. Slipping out into the alley. Folder tucked under their blazer. Getting into the dark car.

Chatting.

Updating.

Informing.

Passing off what they’d learned about Whumper’s routines and work as discreetly as possible before they were dropped back off, slipped into their car, and headed back home to their mark.

Whumper couldn’t have seen that - they were at the game…right?

Right. Just teasing.

They like to make Whumpee squirm.

Whumpee sputtered a laugh, swiping the chopped pieces into a bowl and starting on onions. “I met up with you, silly~” they threw Whumper a wink.

This had to be teasing. Just flirting.

They eased a little as Whumper smirked a warm laugh, stepping behind them.

Whumpee leaned into the kiss that Whumper nuzzled against their jaw. They nuzzled back before redirecting their attention to the onion they were chopping, ignoring the all-too-familiar curl of panic in their stomach as Whumper’s all-too-familiar hand slipped up their neck to grip their jaw lightly.

The way they hummed in appreciation, tipping their head back to give more access rather than flinching away was all-too-familiar, too.

The knife burned in their hand. Whumpee could practically feel it searing. Humming. Begging to be used.

They shoved down the instinct.

Whumpee giggled quietly, biting their lip as Whumper’s kiss worked down the side of their neck. “I can’t seeeeee,” they teased.

Whumper just nipped the skin there. “You don’t have to - you’re an expert with a knife, aren’t you?”

Alarm bells that hadn’t yet turned off demanded attention yet again, blaring in the back of their mind. The knife burned. Its weight was off-blanace in their hand. Not a well made piece. Not at all like the ones they’d used in training.

This was just for cooking. That’s what its weight and shape were destined for.

Yet, it begged them for blood.

Whumpee ignored the burn.

They laughed, trying poorly to guide the knife around - using their knuckles as a guide to keep the blade safely away from fingertips.

They sliced down - fairly neatly.

“There- see? Expert.” Whumper’s smile grew against Whumpee’s neck.

There wasn’t any possible way Whumper could know.

This was just a tease. Just a coincidence. Even a test to see if Whumpee would crack if they were a plant. Which they weren’t. That’s the part they were playing. Not a spy. Great part. Very elaborate.

Whumpee tried to turn a kiss to Whumper’s cheek, but the grip on their jaw tightened, keeping them in place.

Whumpee froze as Whumper’s grip on their waist tightened, too.

“..um…Whumper?”

“Hmm?” Breath tickling their ear.

Whumpee’s stomach curled as they stared straight up at the ceiling. Exactly how Whumper put them.

Burning. Burning. Burning.

“..wh..what are you…-”

The blade demanded action. It longed for Whumpee to plunge it into Whumper’s flesh just as strongly as their legs, itched, begging them to run.

“-You didn’t answer my question,” they purred against the shell of Whumpee’s ear, warmth tingling across the skin and shivering down their spine.

“..I…wh-at question..?”

Whumper chuckled softly, nipping the lobe. “Who did you share all those pretty little secrets with last night?”

Fuck.

Caught.

Definitely caught.

Shit.

They couldn’t ignore the burning anymore.

In one smooth motion, Whumpee twisted, knife turning deftly between their fingers and sailing straight for Whumper’s face.

It’s strange how the body moves when afraid. It’s slippery. Jittery. Off balance. Strange how even one minute motion can send you spiraling in the wrong direction - redirected and reframed. The smallest flick of a wrist suddenly had Whumpee spinning wrong.

A hand bruising into their hip had them reeling back.

The rough wood of the table against their back had them bending. Falling.

Staring up at the ceiling.

Staring at Whumper

Eyes wide and frantic as they tried to roll away-

But the knife still burned for blood - and when it met their hand again, the wrong side greeted them.

Wrongness and screeching agonies ripped through their palm, shredding flesh from tendon from bone until the blade was lodged firmly into the table, their blood soaking into the fresh crevice.

Incredulity and distilled horror slotted through Whumpee’s throat, choking them as they stared up at the skewered appendage, mind trying to process the wrongness. The knife burned - burned so badly, twinging whitehot electricity up through their tendones at every twitch and shiver that choked out the sound that begged to scrabble from their throat.

Whumpee barely had a chance to process it before Whumper slammed their other wrist down by it.

“Let’s try this one more time…” Whumper’s free hand gripped Whumpee’s jaw again, bruising deep against the bone as they forced Whumpee’s gaze to them.

“Who did you meet?”

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

#dubon touch #dubcon kiss #fingore #hand whump #knife #blood #ruining a perfectly good table #poor knife safety #whump drabble #sand asks #spy whump

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thewhumperinwhite · 2 years

Text

@galaxywhump asked Game Over for an oc of my choice and tumblr, through a series of unfortunate events, Deleted The Ask and is now being kind of weird about tagging her so Hopefully she actually sees this lmao Anyway mild spoilers for ATYKM under the cut.

TW: suicidal whumpee, abusive relationship (including inappropriate use of the word "father"), brainwashing, dehumanization (including use of it pronouns), vampirism, dubcon kissing, Major Character Death.

Micah has known about Karim's apartment for months, of course. He is letting it go, for now. Karim has balked the last few times Micah's pushed him, and it's always a careful balance--Karim has to believe that Micah wouldn't ask him for anything he didn't already want to give. He can have the apartment for now, there can be little harm in it.

But perhaps this time he checks in early. Karim loves Art after the first night; when Micah tells him, two days later, to follow the rules, it breaks his heart. But Micah knows what is at stake, now, and he pushes, and-- Karim has not been away from the nest long enough to know how to say no.

"It's alright," the human says, when enough of its blood is in Micah's mouth and in Karim's and on the floor and soaked into the collar of its shirt that the fire has gone out of its eyes and its voice is thin and foggy. "You don't have to look so--sad."

The human is straddling Karim's lap, by now; Karim is sitting on the floor, his back against the couch. Micah is kneeling, behind the human, one hand on the back of the human's t-shirt to keep it from toppling over sideways, which it has been threatening to do for minutes now.

Karim does not look less sad, despite the human's prompting. Still, Micah appreciates the effort.

"Good boy," he tells the human, leaning forward to speak low into its ear. An hour ago it had literally spit at his feet, and he had held back from snapping its disrespectful neck only out of love for Karim, who Micah knew he must handle gently. But it had more blood in it then, and humans often get wonderfully pliable the less of that they have. It shivers, now, at Micah's breath on its throat, and Micah feels a little wave of affection, like he used to feel toward the cows his father helped to feed, a hundred years ago. "You know this is what's best for everyone, don't you?"

"This is--what's best," the human mumbles, like it is only half awake. Its head is sinking onto Karim's chest, now, and Micah can hear its heart straining to pump far too little blood. Karim holds it there, one hand on the back of its neck, as gentle as he'd hold a kitten, and looks up at Micah, his eyes huge and tragic.

They're almost never this easy. This one isn't really Micah's type--he only rarely likes men anyway, Karim is the only one he's ever kept--but he's a pretty enough little thing. In another life he might've liked to have kept this one, at least for a little while. But Karim's clearly gotten far too attached, so this really is the only way, now.

The human's eyes have drifted closed, now, and when Micah cups the back of its head (his hand brushing carefully over Karim's) it sighs raggedly and then it leans into their shared touch. Micah thinks of it an hour ago, spitting venom at him, snapping at his fingers with its flat human teeth, and has to fight to keep his smile serene instead of smug. He bends forward, pressing the human between them, and kisses Karim on the mouth.

"Poor baby," he says. The human is safely limp against Karim's chest, now, and unlikely to fall; Micah frees his other hand, so he can stroke Karim's cheek. "It's alright, dear. People forget even the most important lessons, sometimes."

He kisses Karim again; this time Karim's, half-automatically, kisses back.

"Don't worry, dear," Micah says, satisfied as a cat in the sun. "Your Father will always be here to remind you."

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months

Text

🎃 Good enough to Eat

Licking CW: bound reader, abduction, body worship (receiving), teasing, drugging, dub-con, body image issues

The reflection in the mirror glared at their body, turning in circles to fully appreciate how bad they looked in this outfit. It was such a stereotypical thing to do that (Reader) felt ashamed, but that didn't stop them, not when their skin was squishing out over the top of their jeans. Their best friend was waiting in the living room for them to hurry up, but every shirt they put on laid weird on their body, even their favorite band tee. It was just going to be one of those days.

(Reader) left the bathroom mopey, struggling to look happy. Their attempt failed completely when Vince pulled out his phone to take a picture of them.

"Not today V."

"What? Why?! We never get to hang out anymore, and I want some pictures of us." The man whined, jokingly pouting to hide his real disappointment.

"I'm just..." (Reader) tugged on their shirt subconsciously, "not feeling it."

Vince's eyes narrowed, his joking demeanor fading into an empty glare (Reader) had never seen before, worrying them. "I can't do this. I wanted to do this the right way, but you're pissing me off."

Before (Reader) could question their friend he shoved his fingers into their mouth, pressing a bitter tasting pill into their throat and forcing it down. They tried to jump back, but Vince held (Reader's) head, clasping their mouth shut until they swallowed and holding them still until it kicked in. First their muscles grew heavy, then (Reader) couldn't hold their eyes open, collapsing into Vince's arms.

(Reader) woke up hours later, completely naked and hands chained to the ceiling above them, arms twisted in an angle where they couldn't pull up and dangling just high enough for their toes to touch the floor. In the dark of the cellar, Vince stood in front of (Reader) with his arms crossed, a disappointed look on his handsome face.

"Vince? Where am I...?"

"Mmm.. my house." Vince was uncharacteristically upset, his voice cold and eyes weary with frustration.

"Why-?"

"You know, I had this whole date planned out for us. I was finally going to confess to you." He looked down, rubbing his hands together. "But you're so damn insecure, I know if I told you today that I've been in love with you for the past seven years you wouldn't have believed me."

A strange ache stabbed into (Reader's) heart; a conflicting mixture of his congestion causing it to skip a beat and pain from their anxiety. He was right, they didn't deserve his love. Ignoring the fact that he had just kidnapped them, Vince was the most attractive man (Reader) had ever seen off the big screen.

"Vince, I-"

"So, before I officially confess to you, I need you feeling better about yourself, so you accept me." Vince walked over, a sick smile creeping over his features. "You are so fucking beautiful. I've never met anyone as sexy as you."

"Vince, I'm sorry... If you let me go we can pretend like this never happened.."

He cocked his head. "Why would I want to do that? I finally have you all to myself, and you want me to pretend like I've never had the privilege to see you like this?"

(Reader) sniffled, ashamed, both by how exposed they were and by his sweet talking. "Please stop-"

"You don't believe me.. That really hurts my feelings, (Reader). It was bad enough hearing you criticize the person I love all the goddamn time, but even now you're looking at me like I'm a liar." He pressed his nose against their cheek, inhaling their scent. "Which is so unfair, when you look good enough to eat."

His sharp canines bit into (Reader's) neck as his rough hands caressed their body, rubbing their chest and the spot between their shoulder blades. (Reader) cried out, both in surprise and from pain, before squirming in discomfort as he ran his tongue over his teeth marks.

Vince seemed to enjoy the reaction he got from licking (Reader's) neck, because he moved down, chasing the shivers he was sending down their body. His calloused palms gripped (Reader's) flesh, digging his fingers into their soft body selfishly. His hot muscle left wet trails down (Reader's) goosebumps, greedily tasting their body.

He left hickies from his sucking and biting, bruising their nipples from enthusiasm. Every time he latched on it was hard enough to draw blood, but was quick to soothe the stinging with kisses, cleaning the red droplets with his tongue. Vince ignored (Reader's) pleas and whines, enraptured by the taste he had dreamt of for so long.

"You are so beautiful.." He groaned dreamily, pawing at himself through his pants as he planted butterfly kisses down to (Reader's) hip, turned on by their shudders under his feather soft touches. Sliding into his knees, Vince gazed up at (Reader) with lust. "Please say that you believe me now."

"Vince.." (Reader) was torn between their embarrassment and how good they felt.

His lips attached to their sensitive skin right next to their groin, tickling them. The area was so sensitive to the touch that they arched their spine to get their pelvis away from the teasing kisses, but lost their footing, rocking back into Vince's face.

The man continued licking and kissing everywhere but (Reader's) genitalia, encouraged by their responsiveness. He wouldn't gift them release, not until they felt have much he craved their body.

"Do you believe me now?" His heavy panting against their skin was almost as unbearable as his spider light brushing.

Desperate to be let down, (Reader) whined "Yes! I believe you.."

"Does that mean you'll let me be your man?" Another kiss, closer towards their painful arousal. (Reader's) thighs quivered and butterflies erupted in their belly.

"Yes!"

"Because you know that I love you?" The fluid leaking down (Reader's) leg was licked off hungrily.

"God, yes!"

"And you love me too?"

"Yes! I love you, I love you too, Vince!"

As soon as he got his confirmation, (Reader's) legs were draped over his shoulders.

(Reader's) toes curled as Vince's tongue swirled around their most delicate parts, drinking in their essence. His mouth devoured (Reader), crushing his face with their pelvis, pulling them harder into his jaw, hands on their buttocks pushing them in.

"Vince, I'm gonna cum.." (Reader) pathetically whimpered, feeling his tongue fuck them faster.

A wave a shame followed their climax, insecure suddenly over their orgasm. But that brief thought immediately dissipated as Vince didn't stop, taking all of their juices and continuing his assault on their sensitive nerves, pushing them past the point of pleasure. Tears poured from (Reader's) eyes as they tried to wiggle out of his iron grip.

But Vince continued until he came, pulling away to breathe as he moaned out, staining his jeans. His face returned to the kind looking Vince (Reader) knew and adored, smiling up at (Reader) sweetly as though he hadn't just abducted and assaulted (Reader).

"Thank you for accepting my feelings, gorgeous."

#kinktober #cw abduction #cw dubcon #cw drugging #cw body image #teasing #kissing #yandere x reader #x reader #oc x reader

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starrierknight · 6 months

Text

𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

You both like the thrill of the chase, but he likes being caught more. You were fully willing to take advantage of this fact (and him).

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 5.3k

pairing— mean!dom!gn!reader x bunny hybrid!sub!choso

cws/tags— dubcon, hybrid sex, predator/prey dynamic in an incredibly literal sense, flatmates to fuckers, biting, ear/tail pulling (I promise it makes sense), thigh riding, petnames (“bunny” & “pet”), degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, choso is a closet pervert, implied masturbation at the start, this is a bit of a crackfic

Knock-knock-knock.

"Hey, are you free right now?" the unfamiliar, deep voice of your flatmate said, the sound muffled by the door.

You startled, quickly snapping your laptop shut, and straightening out your clothes and tugging up your shorts. The abrupt sound of the door and his voice had disrupted the peaceful cocoon of your solitude. The scent of your room, previously filled with the aroma of a fragrant candle, now carried a faint whiff of embarrassment as you hurriedly composed yourself. You cleared your throat, the dry rasp echoing in the room, and the sudden shift from the soft hum of your laptop to silence was palpable.

"Gimme a sec!"

You sighed in frustration after having been in the middle of your, ah, private activities, acutely aware of the residual warmth on your skin and the lingering taste of a guilty indulgence on your lips. God, why now?

You walked over to your bedroom door, partially opening it.

You were greeted by the sight of Choso, your reserved flatmate. In all the time you had shared this apartment with him since you moved in, you had spoken to him maybe half a dozen times, at a push. Your knowledge of him extended to a slightly obscure and dark recollection of his appearance—you were pretty certain he had black hair and black eyes, for example. The scant details of his existence in your mind were like faint echoes, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd even heard his voice.

The atmosphere around him was enigmatic, much like the dimly lit corners of your apartment at night when he was most active. Your sense of familiarity with him was akin to touching something in the dark and trying to discern its shape by feel alone. You hadn't even exchanged more than a few words with him since moving in.

So, it begged the question: Why now, of all Godforsaken times, had he knocked on your door? The uncertainty hung in the air, and you couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this rare interruption of your solitude. Nerves prickled your skin, and the soft buzz of anxiety hummed in your ears as you tried to read the situation.

His tall, broad, dark figure loomed over you in the hallway, his face hidden by the darkness. He had a lumpy-looking hoodie on, the hood drawn up over his head, and the strings pulled tight, making his silhouette rather unfortunately egg-shaped. In the dim light, the fabric absorbed the surrounding environment, giving him a spectral quality.

"I need to talk to you about something," Choso said flatly, his voice devoid of any discernible emotion.

"Something?" you repeated, the slight crease forming between your brows mirrored by a taste of irritation on your tongue.

The hallway closed in on you, and the tension thick between you, heightening your awareness of the details—his hooded silhouette and the soft hum of the apartment building's ventilation system added an eerie backdrop to the encounter.

Choso stared at you and said nothing. His inscrutable expression was like a dark void, offering no clues as to the nature of his issue. You huffed.

Reluctantly, you opened your bedroom door wider, inviting him to step inside and speak whatever his piece was. The hinges creaked softly, and a cool draft wafted in from the hallway, carrying the faint scent of the outside world into your personal space. As he entered, the rustle of his lumpy hoodie echoed slightly in the confined space.

You shut the door behind you with a soft click and walked over to your bed, plopping unceremoniously onto it. Despite your bedroom being considerably better lit by the soft candlelight scattered around your room, you still had a hard time making out Choso’s features clearly. Shadows danced across his lumpy hoodie, making his face remain hidden, and the flickering flames played tricks on your senses.

"Well?" you prompted impatiently, the sound of your voice breaking the silence and mingling with the gentle crackling of the candles.

He sighed, the faint gust of his breath causing the candles to flicker slightly. "Promise you won't laugh?"

You raised a brow, giving him a thoroughly unimpressed look. "No," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of stubbornness.

Choso nodded, as if a little sympathetic to your situation. He slipped his lumpy hoodie off, the soft sound of fabric sliding over skin filling the room. As he revealed more of himself, the candlelight danced across his now clearer form, allowing you to finally see his features more distinctly.

As you leaned in to see him more clearly, you couldn't help but be taken aback by the stark contrast between your preconceived notions and the reality before you. He was tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered, with a physique that seemed at odds with his reserved demeanour. His incredibly pale skin, like porcelain, was warmed by the hue of the candlelight, giving it an ethereal quality. Every contour and muscle came alive in the shifting light.

His black eyes were deep pools, absorbing the candlelight and reflecting it back with a certain intensity. His long, messy black hair, tied into two high ponytails that jutted upward and outwards, framed his face in a wild, untamed manner. Some strands of hair gently caressed his forehead, adding to his haunting allure.

Upon closer inspection, as you leaned in even further, you noticed his face was sharp and angular, with thin but expressive eyebrows that added depth to his gaze. His straight nose was perfectly sculpted, leading your eyes down to his distinctive feature—the thin, black, horizontal, rectangular tattoo that adorned his nose bridge.

The tattoo was his most striking feature, but if you weren't counting that, then there were the unexpected elements that truly set him apart—a pair of bunny ears perched atop his head, their velvety texture contrasting with his dark, flowing hair. Completing this ensemble was a fluffy white tail, its cottony appearance inviting a touch to verify its authenticity.

Wait, hold on a second… Bunny ears and a fluffy white tail?

You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh, the suppressed amusement creating a tickling sensation on your skin.

"Y'know Halloween is coming up, not Easter, right?" you quipped, your voice carrying a teasing note.

Choso groaned, hiding his face in his hands, his reaction palpable even in the dim candlelit room. Though it was hard to see, you had a good reason to believe that he was blushing, a subtle warmth colouring his porcelain complexion. This revelation only made you want to laugh harder, the sensation building like a wave within you.

"So you ordered the wrong Halloween costume. What's the big deal?" you chuckled, attempting to downplay the situation.

Choso's bunny ears twitched, a subtle movement that defied logic.

They... they twitched?

"It's not a costume," he muttered, his voice barely audible above the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind.

Your jaw dropped, and you spluttered in disbelief. "N-not a costume? Those... Those are your actual ears?"

He grimaced and nodded, still avoiding your gaze. Those were his real ears? Is this why he had hardly interacted with you, because he was hiding his 'bunny features'? The discovery left you reeling, a cacophony of thoughts and emotions filling your mind as you tried to make sense of the extraordinary truth before you.

In good bunny fashion, he slowly tiptoed over to your bed and sat on the opposite side, his ears drooping. The way he moved was oddly endearing, a blend of hesitancy and vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he mumbled, his voice carrying a note of regret.

The pair of soft, black bunny rabbit ears were a delightful and charming sight, a surreal addition to this unexpected encounter. They looked velvety to the touch, with a plush texture that invited you to run your fingers across their surface. The deep black colour was rich and dark, blending in with Choso's hair, but creating a stark contrast against his pale skin. The enigmatic tattoo on his nose bridge gained new significance in light of this revelation, like a piece of a larger puzzle waiting to be deciphered. As you observed him, a profound curiosity washed over you, eager to learn more about the intriguing world that had remained hidden beneath his hoodie and in the shadows for so long.

You impulsively reached your dominant hand over and stroked one of his ears, unable to resist the allure of their intriguing texture. It was incredibly soft and plush to the touch, and running your fingers over them felt like stroking a delicate, silken fabric. They were adorned with fine, velvety fur that lent them a luxurious feel—so exquisitely soft to the touch.

"Wow... You're not kidding," you said with quiet awe, your voice hushed, afraid to disturb the delicacy of this revelation.

He stiffened and recoiled, looking at you with wide eyes, a mix of surprise and unease clouding his expression. He shifted away from you, instinctively retreating from your touch. You raised your eyebrows, curious about his reaction, and leaned forward, extending your hand gently to stroke his ears again.

"Hey, c'mere for a sec. Let me touch," you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring as you reached for him.

Choso, however, kept shifting away from you, his movements increasingly frantic, until he was almost completely dangling off your bed. The experience of revealing his hidden secret had left him clearly unsettled, and your attempts to comfort him had the opposite effect, pushing him farther away.

Your curiosity about his strangely endearing rabbit anatomy grew the more he recoiled from you. His eyes darted between you and the door, and the bedsheets rustled beneath you as you inched closer, your desire to explore this newfound aspect of his identity becoming increasingly difficult to contain. Then, unable to resist your impulse, you lunged forward.

Choso, however, was immediately ready to bolt away as you started moving towards him. His instincts kicked in, and he began to run, his legs and thighs moving quickly as he made rapid bunny hops, dashing away from your reach. His bunny ears flapped in the air as he ran, the delicate contrast of black against the dimly lit room a mesmerizing sight. His white tail wagged rapidly in this game of chase, and his athletic and swift movements made it clear that he was determined to elude your grasp.

Choso got to your bedroom door, threw it open, and dashed out into the hallway, his swift movements making it seem like he had vanished into thin air. But you, not one to give up easily, sprinted after him, your determination propelling you forward.

Choso, with his innate agility and a clear knowledge of the apartment's layout, made several quick turns and corners, using his familiarity with the space to his advantage and evading your pursuit. His bunny ears continued to flap in the air, and he occasionally glanced behind him to gauge your progress before making another sharp turn, running into yet another room and attempting to hide.

As you followed closely behind, your footsteps reverberated through the apartment, giving away your pursuit. Choso's white tail wagged rapidly in response to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he made more bunny hops, utilizing his speed and agility to the fullest in his quest to evade your grasp. The game of cat and mouse—or rather, cat and rabbit—had taken an unexpected turn, and the chase continued through your shared living space.

You skidded around a corner, your fluffy socks proving slippery on the hardwood floors as you made a valiant effort to keep up with Choso's rapid pace.

Choso, ever the elusive bunny-eared flatmate, saw you coming around the corner and anticipated your move. With a burst of agility, he made another sharp turn, dashing out of the room and out of your immediate sight. His bunny ears flapped in the air as he continued to sprint away, his athletic legs propelling him forward with impressive speed.

As he reached the kitchen, he couldn't help but call out, "I can hear your footsteps!"

His bunny ears twitched, as if to listen further, and his white tail wagged rapidly. He continued to make bunny hops, each one like a real rabbit's bound, as the game of pursuit and evasion intensified.

You changed tactics and stopped running, realising that a more stealthy approach might be the key to closing the gap between you and Choso. Instead of chasing him, you began to stalk quietly around the apartment, moving with deliberate caution to ensure that your footsteps remained silent and didn't give you away.

Choso, ever alert, immediately picked up on the change in your movements. His bunny ears stood straight, their sensitivity tuned to the faintest of sounds, and his fluffy white tail had stopped wagging. Tension radiated from him as he shifted into a state of heightened awareness, his eyes flicking around the apartment in an effort to spot any sign of your presence.

He began to worry a little, his black eyes flicking around as he tried to catch a glimpse of your whereabouts in the apartment. Remaining completely still, he strained to hear any faint sound that might give away your position. His ears were perked, each subtle noise amplified in his perception.

Choso's ears twitched at the faint noise emanating from the hallway. His senses heightened, and he remained perfectly still, straining to decipher the source and nature of the sound. His black eyes narrowed as he focused his attention on the hallway, ready to react to any potential movement or disturbance.

As the moments stretched on in silence, Choso remained completely still, vigilant and on the lookout for your next move. His bunny ears stood erect, capturing even the faintest of sounds, and his body remained tense, ready to react at a moment's notice. His white tail remained motionless, a clear sign that he was in full-on alert mode, on edge and anticipating your next attempt.

In the hushed atmosphere, you could hear his breath, slightly faster than usual, as he held it in anticipation. Each inhalation and exhalation was more pronounced in the quiet.

"Boo!" you exclaimed from a few meters behind him, and you lunged forward.

Choso flinched in surprise at the sudden exclamation from behind him, his rabbit instincts momentarily taking over. He swiftly turned to face you, only to be caught off-guard the moment you lunged towards him. His bunny tail wagged in response to his flustered state, and he made a light bunny hop to escape your reach, his athletic legs propelling him forward in a rush.

Clearly, you had caught him by surprise, and he was running away as fast as he could, employing his signature bunny hops to gain distance. His slightly red face betrayed his flustered state, and nervous giggles bubbled up from him as he continued to flee.

You chased Choso into the living room, and with nowhere left to escape, he found himself cornered. In a final act of pursuit, you lunged forward and tackled him onto the sofa, your laughter mixing with his surprised gasp as you both tumbled onto the cushions. You managed to pin his wrists above his head, straddling him in a victorious pose.

As you caught your breath, you both panted heavily, the adrenaline-fueled chase having taken its toll on your energy. Choso's body flushed a deep, red hue all over, and his features displayed a mix of shock and deep embarrassment. Your body on top of him in such an intimate position left him blushing intensely, his pale skin providing a vivid canvas for the crimson flush that had overtaken him.

In this somewhat awkward and unexpected moment, you were both left panting and gazing at each other. Choso's bunny ears laid back slightly, and his large, expressive eyes met yours with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and… and what on Earth was that?

"I win," you muttered smugly, your playful victory evident in your tone.

As you both caught your breath and your eyes met, you found yourselves in an unexpectedly intimate moment, just inches away from each other. Your gazes locked, and you peered deeply into each other's eyes, your chests rising and falling with each heavy breath. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to break through the bones of his ribs and run away.

"Well, I suppose you win..." Choso conceded, his rabbit ears drooping ever so slightly, a subtle sign of his disappointment. “Let me go now?”

"Don't I get a prize?" you murmured, smirking ever so slightly as you inched closer, your proximity intensifying the charged atmosphere.

Your playful question hung in the air, charged with a newfound tension that neither of you could deny. You licked your lips, a subtle, teasing gesture as you maintained unbroken eye contact with Choso, your gaze locked onto his dark eyes.

Choso's eyes slowly traveled down to your lips, his gaze fixating on the subtle curve of your mouth. He was entranced, his rabbit ears twitching almost involuntarily as his breathing picked up ever so slightly. His dark eyes remained locked onto your mouth, where he noticed the subtlest details, including the hint of your smirk and the shape of your canines.

As he continued to study your lips, Choso's eyes widened slightly, and he found himself unable to move, mesmerized by your presence. A faint, involuntary moan escaped his mouth, the sound barely audible even in the hushed room.

“Don’t… Don’t do this,” he whimpered.

Instead of going in for a kiss, you tilted your head to the side and bit gently into Choso's neck. Your unexpected move elicited a sharp gasp from him, his dark eyes widening in response to the unexpected sensation. Your hands, still firmly gripping his pinned wrists, curled more tightly, keeping him in place as you continued to nibble at his neck. The room crackled, and the taste of his skin and the sound of his rapid heartbeat filled your senses—God, he looked so helpless.

Choso's body shivered involuntarily under your grip as you bit his neck, his sensitivity to the unexpected sensation causing a surge of pleasure and excitement to course through him. Despite how tightly you were pinning him down, he squirmed beneath you. His hips lifted slightly off the sofa, a reflexive response to the thrilling stimulation you were providing. A low, muffled groan escaped his lips—something that sounded close to your name.

Your sharp canines bit deeper into Choso's neck, and he responded with a low, deeper moan that reverberated through the room. His hips grinded slightly against you, an instinctual reaction. His breath grew heavier and faster, each inhalation and exhalation punctuated by soft, low sounds of pleasure.

“No, no, no… Don’t, please… Ah, fuck…!”

Choso's bunny ears continued to twitch, a visible sign of the tension that had taken hold of him. Despite your firm control and grip, he began to move slightly, a silent plea for closeness and touch. His movements became more pronounced under your control and grip, an unspoken desire to get closer to you and touch you. His skin felt hot to the touch, the evidence of his arousal undeniable in the heated atmosphere of the room, at war with his mind which was begging for it to stop.

“It hurts… You’re hurting me, stop… No, no,” he whined.

Choso's response to your biting was undeniable. He let out a deep breath of pleasure, his body shivering in excitement as your canines continued to tantalize his neck. His lips formed a perfect "O" shape as he released the breath, and his bunny ears twitched slightly, betraying the undeniable excitement and pleasure coursing through him.

It was clear that he wasn't trying to resist your bite; On the contrary, he thoroughly enjoyed the sensation, despite his whines about it hurting. The pleasure experience far outweighed any discomfort, and his surrender to the moment was evident in his quivering body and the sounds of delight escaping his lips.

You pulled back from his neck, your breaths heavy and your voice dripping with desire as you whispered in Choso's ear, "You taste good. I think I'll have you."

His response was immediate, a loud whine escaping his trembling lips as he squirmed beneath you. His body was a tempest of emotions, a cocktail of fear, adrenaline, and unmistakable arousal.

While maintaining your grip on his pinned wrists with one hand, your other hand ventured to gently stroke the soft, black, velvet-like fur of his droopy bunny ears. The sensation caused him to shiver, a powerful response to the intimate touch.

"D-Don't... P-Please, don't," he mumbled pleadingly, his voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and desire.

But you weren't inclined to stop. With a wicked grin, you silenced his protests with a simple command, "Hush, bunny... Let me have my fun with you."

You didn't hold back as you ducked your head down and bit more harshly into the pale, sensitive skin of Choso's neck. He let out the cutest squeak of fear in response. You sucked and nibbled at his neck, your actions causing him to tremble and moan.

His moans, while not entirely lustful, were filled with a heady mixture of fear, excitement, and desire. Each tremor of his body and each moan that escaped his lips only fueled your passion and drove you to explore further. In another circumstance, you might have had the heart to stop, but the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressed against your thigh as he rutted his hips into you left little room for restraint.

“C’mon, now. Be a good pet and let me touch you properly,” you muttered into his ear, causing the last of his apprehension to crumble.

Your desire burned like a fire, and with fiendish strength, you tore Choso's thin cotton t-shirt, a symbol of your unrestrained desire for him. He gasped at the sudden action, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

As your hands traversed the now-bare skin of his muscular torso, Choso shuddered and groaned, his body responding eagerly to your touch. He leaned into your caresses, his desire mirroring your own.

Sensing his readiness and compliance, you shifted on the sofa to provide him with enough room to remove his trousers. Without protest, Choso stripped out of his trousers, revealing more of his taut, athletic body. With greedy hands, you pulled down his underwear, releasing his aching erection, which sprung free, throbbing with arousal.

"Well, aren't you a needy thing?" you laughed teasingly at Choso, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and desire.

You pulled him onto your lap, and he now straddled you, his embarrassment causing a deep shade of red to spread from the top of his head all the way down to his shoulders. His bunny ears laid flat against his head with shame, unable to meet your eyes.

Your hands settled on his petit waist, and you dragged him along your thigh, pulling him closer. He couldn't help but moan as his throbbing dick rubbed against your skin. His arms wrapped around your neck, an instinctive desire to hold you as close to his body as you would allow. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his gaze darting between your eyes and your lips as he looked at you imploringly, his need and desire laid bare for you to see.

"God, you're so fucking desperate to be touched," you laughed, your words dripping with desire, and you placed a possessive hand on the back of Choso's neck before crashing your lips together in a heated kiss.

Choso whimpered in surprise at the sudden aggression of your kiss, his cheeks flushing with desire and embarrassment. He couldn't help but emit light, quiet moans in response, the sensations overwhelming his senses. His bunny ears were twitching madly, and his entire body quivered at your rough touch.

His eyes remained closed as he surrendered to the passionate kiss, his lips moving in sync with yours as desire consumed both of you. As the kiss continued, the room filled with the intoxicating sounds of his heavy panting and the increasingly louder moans that escaped his lips.

Choso's face flushed even deeper as your fingers squeezed his bunny tail, the unexpected sensation sending a jolt of desire through him. Instinctively, he ground his hips against your thigh, seeking more of the electrifying pleasure you were providing.

His calloused hands roamed over your body, their touch possessive as they grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in closer and tighter. The intensity of his desire was palpable, his body tense and shaking as he felt the warmth from your hand on his tail. He couldn't help but make quiet, breathy whimpers and sounds as your deep kiss continued, your tongues exploring each other with fervour.

Choso continued to grind his throbbing cock against your thigh, the friction heightening his pleasure. Your hands fondled his ass and massaged the base of his tail, each touch driving him further into a frenzy of desire.

You pulled away from Choso's lips, and in a breathy, taunting whisper, you spoke to him, "You should see yourself, pet. Fucking my thigh like you're in heat."

Choso's response was a mixture of pleasure and desperation as he panted between moans, his voice a trembling with need. "Ah...! I-I can't help it... Feels too good."

Your hands continued to guide his hips steadily as he humped your thighs, his movements growing increasingly frantic. Pre-cum smeared messily across your skin where your shorts ended, evidence of his overwhelming arousal. His pretty cock was flushed an angry red at the tip, the desperate need for relief evident in every twitch and throb.

Choso's moans grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment, his voice a fervent symphony of pleasure as he whimpered your name. His thrusts against your thigh became increasingly frantic and messy, his body shuddering with the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His fingers dug painfully into your shoulder blades, his grip on you tight and unrelenting, holding on for dear life.

Your taunting words only added fuel to the fire. "That's right, bunny. Moan my fuckin' name and let the whole building know I'm getting you off like a slut. Let them hear your voice—let them hear how disgusting you really are," you teased, your words charged with desire and dominance.

"Please, please... Oh, please! Fuck, I'm so... I'm so c-close," Choso cried out, his voice filled with desperate need and urgency.

Your wicked grin only widened in response to his pleas, and with a harsh tug, you pulled on the fluffy white tail at the base of his spine. The sensation was electrifying, and Choso practically screamed your name as he came on your thigh, his body trembling with the intensity of his release. He continued to rut against you, coating your skin in his hot, sticky cum, the sheer amount of it a testament to the depth of his need and desire.

As you watched him in the aftermath, you couldn't help but realize that your mysterious flatmate had been far more desperate for you than he had ever let on throughout your history of knowing him. And then it clicked:

He had wanted you all along.

Choso naturally began to slow his movements, his body slumping against yours as he buried his face into your neck. He whimpered your neck and pressed soft, damp kisses against your neck. Your grip on his hips didn’t falter, though.

"You're a pervert, aren't you, bunny?" you said teasingly as you pulled back to look at Choso's flushed face.

Choso's breath hitched, and his lips parted as if he were going to protest or defend himself, but before he could utter a word, you forcefully moved his hips, causing him to grind against your thigh once more. He yelped in response to the sudden stimulation, his cute dick still sensitive from his recent climax, and it continued to throb and drip with cum, staining your thigh. You maintained your control over him, keeping him forcefully grinding against you, and despite his whines and keening, he remained a willing slave to your lustful amusement.

"Oh, my God," you laughed cruelly, your words dripping with taunting amusement. "This has been what's getting you off ever since I moved in, huh? You've been touching yourself, wishing it was me fucking you all along?"

Choso's protest was weak, his voice trembling as he moaned and squirmed under the relentless overstimulation you forced upon his weeping cock. "N-No... Stop, I wouldn't," he protested, his words a feeble attempt to deny the undeniable truth.

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.

"Bunny," you continued, your voice low and sultry, "you've been wanting to fuck like rabbits this whole time, and you've been too embarrassed to ask. Now's your chance. Beg me now, like the dumb slut you are, and I'll be here to fuck you when you're desperate."

"Please… Please, please, please!" Choso cried out, his voice desperate and filled with longing as he moaned your name.

Your dominance over him intensified as you continued to drive him to the edge of ecstasy. "And what are you, pet?" you demanded.

"I'm… Please, please… S'too much… Too much," he gasped, his words coming out in short gasps as his powerful body writhed and shuddered. His hips continued to hump against your thigh, guided by your hands.

"You're a dumb fucking bunny, that's what you are. Now, say it," you commanded.

"I'm… I'm a… Ah…!" Choso's voice trailed off into a moan of pleasure and surrender, his body consumed by the intoxicating sensations you were inflicting upon him.

You narrowed your eyes, your superiority over Choso unwavering as your dominant hand reached up and clasped those soft bunny ears of his, tugging harshly. Choso's response was immediate and intense—he screamed and sobbed, the pain shooting down his neck and spine, sending waves of torment and pleasure right to his aching dick. Tears cascaded down his flushed cheeks as he moaned and whimpered, his pleas for gentleness and kindness filling the room.

"Say it, slut," you demanded, your voice firm and unyielding.

"I'm a… a dumb fucking b-bunny," Choso sobbed, his words a painful admission of submission.

You tugged on his ears once more, and his back arched in response, the sweaty muscles of his chest pressing firmly against your torso.

"That's right, pet. You're a dumb fucking bunny, and now, you're all mine," you laughed, your words filled with triumph.

Choso's response was immediate and explosive. He screamed your name and convulsed violently, his body wracked by the intensity of his climax as he came all over your thigh once again. The overstimulation proved to be too much for him, flooding his body with an overwhelming, painful pleasure that left him utterly and blissfully mindless. In that moment, all thoughts, inhibitions, and restraints were wiped away, consumed by the raw and uncontrollable desire that had drawn you together.

It was clear that he had become your loyal and devoted pet, forever bound to you. The future held untold possibilities, but one thing was certain—Choso had willingly surrendered to you, and you had claimed him as your own.

a/n: icl i got wayyyy too carried away with this. choso is such a gorgeous man and i need to ruin him LOL. god, i fuckin love bunnies. writing this has permanently altered my brain chemistry, i think. Happy Kinktober! :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

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