Keni
will byers stan first human second
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Mike Driver
d e v o n
Cosimo Galluzzi
No title available
Peter Solarz
todays bird
macklin celebrini has autism
Show & Tell
art blog(derogatory)
⁂
we're not kids anymore.
trying on a metaphor
titsay
AnasAbdin
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
cherry valley forever
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@kanri-domo
I love your Dottor Stockholm Syndrome fic so much!!! It's one of my absolute faves!!! I've been re-liking it just so I don't lose it cause I love reading it!!! I also love the way you write him in the third part of it!!! Sub Dottor fics are some of my faves and you write him so well!!!
Thank you!! 💞💞
Characters: Dottore, NB! Reader can be read as either/or
Warnings: Dub-Con
Work as Dottore’s secretary is dull at best and horrifying at worst. Somehow, you’ve managed to land yourself in a situation that falls somewhere in the middle.
When you got handed a trick snake toy by one of the segments, you didn’t think much of it. They tended to just leave things around for you to dispose of, or just to make random shit other people’s problem after all.
It’s a small, rubbery little thing, filled with slime. You remember playing with these as a kid, sticking your fingers inside and turning it inside out for the heck of it. There’s nothing much to do today, so you start fidgeting with it, pushing your fingers into the hole and squeezing the toy. It’s… weirdly wet, you think.
You’ve been playing with it for a while before an animalistic growl breaks you out of your trance.
“Y-you,” one of Dottore’s segments growl, or at least you’re pretty sure it’s one of them. There’s so many, you can never really tell the difference, and the real one never seemed to leave the main lab.
“Who gave you that?!”
“I- Sorry?” you answer bewildered, “One of the segments, sir.” Your hands are still, fingers still deep inside of the toy.
“Put that down,” he orders you, and confused, you do as you’re told, pulling your fingers out and placing it down on the table. He whimpers when you do, and you pause. The segment is red and breathing heavy, and he’s holding onto your desk, as if needing support. Something perverse inside urges you to pick it up again and you do. You begin to trace the rim of the hole, playing with it like it’s the rim of a rectum. There’s no way, is there…?
“Don’t – “ he tries to growl again, but it comes out as a yelp. “What the fuck,” you whisper, amazed as he begins to curl up in response to your ministrations. The toy is tight around your fingers too, something you had thought was weird when you were first playing with it.
“Does this feel good, sir?” you ask, “How was this even made?”
“N – no,” he mewls as your fingers go deeper, “St- ahh!”
A segment passes by and stares at the two of you. The one in front of you looks up to glare at him.
“Sir?” You question, keeping your hands under your desk. You just wanted to mess a bit with the one in front of you, not all of them, so you try and play innocent. Your fingers are still stuck inside of the toy, and you shamelessly rub the inside.
The segment is still staring at the two of you when the one you’re playing with tries to silence a yelp when your finger gets caught on a small bump.
“Leave,” the segment exhales hard, trying to not moan, “now.”
The segment rolls his eyes before taking his leave, mumbling about perverts and primes under his breath. You’re not sure what that means, but you suppose that the segment didn’t seem to care too much about what you were doing. The one in front of you, on the other hand…
“Hand the damn thing over,” he snarls. You pause a moment, before replying, “No.”
The other segment’s lack of much interest emboldens you even further and you begin to thrust into the toy even rougher than before, determined to make the Dottore in front of you cum. You’re going to be in so much trouble for messing with a harbinger after this, but it’s a good way to go out.
“Ah, ah!” He moans lewdly, “Too- too much! I’m go- going to kill you for this!”
With some clever maneuvering, you manage to stick all five fingers into the toys hole. Your nails scrape against the squishy inside of the toy and you think you can feel every twitch and jolt of his insides. It’s really an amazing little thing.
There are more segments watching now, you’re pretty sure. They’re doing a good job of being discrete, but the one in front of you is rather loud. There’s drool and tears leaking out and he’s curled over your desk in pleasure.
“Does that feel good?” You ask.
“N-no,” he moans, and his mask is crooked so you can see the way his eyes are glazed over in pleasure.
“Ah. Okay, sorry,” you respond before pulling out. He squeaks in protest, “What are you doing?!”
“You said it didn’t feel good, right?” you ask teasingly, “So I’ll stop.”
He glares at you with a flushed face. “You… Don’t you dare stop,” he snaps out. “You already did this much, so don’t you fucking dare stop until I cum!”
You think you hear some of the segments sniggering but ignore it in favor of finger fucking the toy in earnest. You feel yourself feeling hot too, and you know this is going to show up in your wet dreams for a long while, if you survive this.
“Harder,” the segment bites out with a moan, you obey. Whatever decorum he had been trying to keep while in such a public space and in front of so many segments was completely gone now. There’s something fascinating about watching someone so powerful like Dottore reduced to a moaning, whimpering mess on your desk. You can’t see most of his face, but his mask is skewed enough to see a bright red eye glazed over in pleasure and his face is flushed red. Each thrust of your fingers is responded with a moan or twitch of his body as he’s overwhelmed by pleasure. It takes only a moment more before you feel the toy squeeze impossibly tight around your fingers and Dottore goes limp, tension draining out of his body.
It takes you several minutes of silence to realize with no small amount of dread at how public this space was. It was one thing to have the segments watch, but someone else was a whole other thing. The footsteps right outside of Dottore’s labs alert you to the bumble of activity before a certain set of footsteps begin to come closer.
Light footsteps approach and to your dread, it’s the Regrator, looking at the both of you, unimpressed.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Erm uh so basically uh um
Public play with dottore? With either sounding or a small vibrator on his cock.. he'd probably be trembling and whining while you drag out any interaction with someone else. Bonus public humiliation when he inevitably cums at the worst possible time.
Sorry this took half of forever 💀
Characters: Il Dottore/Zandik, NB! Reader, can be read as either/or
Kinks: Public Play, Public Humiliation
You’re such a perverted sadist, Dottore thinks dazedly. There’s a prostate massager inside of him at max strength and he’s expected to meet with Scaramouche in a little bit. Usually, he’d leave a segment to deal with the puppet, but this time, he actually needed to meet the other harbinger in person. He was still tempted to though, if just to avoid this humiliation.
“H- how much longer?” He questions you, “It’s too much,” he adds on.
“Just for the rest of the day,” you reply with no small amount of amusement, “You promised me you’d do anything after all.” Inwardly, he curses his past self for promising something so open-ended.
“Oh, there you are!” It’s Tartaglia and Dottore bites back a curse. If only it was one of the segments, then he could tell them to go away. With Tartaglia, you were fond of the kid enough that Dottore couldn’t curse him without upsetting you. You’re both standing there, chatting. One of your hands wrap around Dottore and to no small amount of dread, he realizes that your hand has lowered to his ass and has begun to push the massager deeper inside, forcing it at an angle that pressed up against his prostate even deeper than before.
“ – misses you too!” He hears the other harbinger yap, before blissed silence. “Are you okay, Dottore?” The orange-haired fools stares at the other man cluelessly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You smile innocently at him and inwardly, Dottore curses you.
“Oh, he’s fine!” You chirp out, “Just a feeling a bit down. You know how it is around this time of the year,” you say, waving away Tartaglia’s concerns with a cheery disposition. The fool accepts it without much questioning. Dottore wished you’d hurry up the conversation before he became the fool himself for cumming in public.
You talk a little more before you finally grant mercy for the poor man by lowering the vibrations and waving Tartaglia goodbye.
“Good job keeping quiet,” you praise him, amusement coloring your voice. He glares at you instead of responding, too busy trying to bite down on his moans. The building pleasure was starting to make it difficult to walk, so you wrap your arm around his thin waist and support him all the way back to the lab, uncaring that other members of the fatui’s staring. He sincerely hoped none of them figured out could see the redness of his face or hear the small whimpers and whines he let out with each agonizing step.
“Just one more meeting for today,” you laugh at his agony, “One more with Scaramouche and then we can go back to our rooms for some more fun.”
He looks away, embarrassed. Some days, he wonders why he lets you get away with all your perverse games, but then he’s reminded of how good you are at making him turn into a puddle of pleasure.
The meeting with Scaramouche, as expected, is torturously long. The puppet demanded to know every little thing about Dottore’s plans for the damn thing, and any other day, he’d be happy to go on about it.
Today, though, he’s biting back squeals and shrieks as you begin to raise the vibrations again. You’re just right outside his lab right now, sorting through paperwork. Scaramouche glares at him, confused at how weird the doctor was acting today.
“What the hell is wrong with you today?” he questions, venom dripping with each word.
“None of your business,” Dottore sneers back, clenching his fists to try and stop himself rocking back and forth. The urge to cum was strong and growing, and inwardly, he cursed you again and himself for agreeing to this.
You must’ve decided on something, because the vibrator quiets down to a low vibration for some time now as Dottore finishes up his talk with Scaramouche. It’s not until the other harbinger is at the door when the massager suddenly jolts back to life, stronger than ever.
“A-ahh!” Dottore yelps in surprise, and before he could stop himself, cum spilling out inside of his pants and making a wet patch. His back arches back, the pleasure too strong and too sudden, leaving his front exposed and proof of the deed out in the open for anyone to see.
Scaramouche whirls around at the strange noise before his face morphed into a disgusted sneer. “Fucking pervert,” the puppet growls out, “You’re so gross.” With that, he takes his leave, leaving Dottore red from embarrassment alone in his lab. He really was going to kill you for this, this time.
He’s still breathing hard and burning with both humiliation and need as you approach him. You smile at the view in front of you. Dottore’s legs were spread open and the wet patch of cum had become more obvious as it spread. His face was bright red, and his hands were clenching onto the arms of his chair as the vibrations relentlessly attacked his prostate, leaving him a whimpering, twitching mess. “Shall we proceed to the bedroom?” you whisper into his ear, breath hot, and everything fades to static as the need to be filled and fucked by you takes over.
He changes his mind, after you fuck him into the mattress. The mind-blowing sex is enough to convince him to keep you around for now.
Characters: Argenti, AMAB! Reader
Warnings: Dub-Con, Captivity, Stockholm Syndrome, Unreliable Narrator
Argenti, you think somewhat deliriously, is a very good boy. Even though you have him trapped; even if he's been stripped of all independence, he still acts polite and gentle with you. It's not something a dirty kidnapper like you deserves, but he does it all the same.
“Argenti,” you call out gently, “Time for dinner.” You walk into the room that has become Argenti’s for the last several months.
Argenti looks up from where he’s brushing out his hair. “Oh,” he says ever-so-gently, “It’s already dinner time?”
You place the tray down in front of him before you take a seat across from Argenti. The chains leading to the cuff around his ankle clank as he scoots back to make space for you. It’s unnecessary, but kind of him all the same.
“Did you already eat?” Argenti inquires softly. He’s reaching towards the fork before you slap his hand away. He flinches back, eyes staring at you helplessly.
“Argenti!” You snap, displeased.
“… I can feed myself,” he whines quietly, a soft, sad trill in his voice. You soften a bit, after all, you can never stay mad at kind, sweet Argenti.
“I know,” you tell him sweetly, but sternly – you can’t let him get the wrong idea – your words deliberate, “But I want to feed you. You’re so pretty and sweet, and you deserve to be pampered.”
Argenti looks like he wants to protest, but after a moment, he keeps silent. He’d been vehemently against your delicate treatment of him in the beginning. With a bit of persuasion, through both verbal and physical means, it thrills you that he has come to accept your love.
You carefully pick up each forkful of food and place it into his mouth. You watch as Argenti chews and swallows, admiring how pretty, how beautiful he is. His lips, glossy and plush, close around the fork and you can’t help but think about how pretty it’d be if it was around your cock instead. Though, you note the way Argenti fists at the fabric of his pants. He’s upset, you think to yourself, but you can fix that.
When he finishes eating, you capture his lips in a deep kiss. You push him down to the floor, ignoring his whimper of protest. Your tongue slips into his mouth, exploring each little cavern of his mouth that you’d become so familiar with. You can taste the food that he has eaten, and it thrills you that he lets you be so intimate with him.
“Ah,” Argenti moans as you move from his mouth to sucking and nibbling his ear. You can feel his cock stirring in interest. You reach down into his pants and prod at his hole, still loose and wet with your cum from earlier in the day, fingers slipping in easily.
“N- no,” Argenti whimpers, trying to push you off of him, “It’s too soon…”
“You can take it,” you tell him gently, before pining his hands above his head with ease. “You’ve taken worse,” you say as you think about the fucking machine you’d use on him back when he still fought back.
As if struck by the same memories, Argenti goes limp in your hold, head tilting away, unwilling to look at you. You sigh at his stubbornness, but as long as he stays pliant, he’s willing, isn’t he?
You push your cock into him with ease, Argenti gasping lightly as you bottom out. You moan as well, loving the way he clenches around you. Each thrust felt so damn good, and you couldn’t help but adore Argenti even more. From the way Argenti’s cock twitched with need, the little shivers of pleasure, his sweet moans and whimpers with each thrust, and the way his beautiful, emerald eyes glaze over – you love him so, so much.
Each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge, and when you finally cum, you bury yourself into him, filling him with even more of your cum. Argenti makes a sound beneath you, like a sob, but you ignore it, preferring to snuggle close to him. The feeling of being so close to him, being connected to him with your cock inside of him, it fills you with so much warmth.
You are a terrible, terrible person. You’ve kidnapped Argenti, forced him into a state of completely dependent on you, but you can’t help but think it was worth it. After all, wasn’t it proof that your love was meant to be that he was so gentle and pliant and sweet beneath you?
“I love you,” you whisper gently into his ears, arms wrapped around him. Nothing else mattered now, only Argenti. Glassy green eyes look away from you, silent.
Lol I accidently privated this ages ago and didn't realize till now
so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god
okay so i just got my dream job??? a week after applying to it?? and now i’m thinking….maybe this is the good luck post
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
i need all the help i can get for finals
Hey so
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.
So you know.
This might be the real one, y’all.
what the hell? i could use some luck *hits reblog*
World Heritage Post
reblogging again… need it bad lol
Characters: Argenti, AMAB! Reader
Warnings: Dub-Con, Captivity, Stockholm Syndrome, Unreliable Narrator
Argenti, you think somewhat deliriously, is a very good boy. Even though you have him trapped; even if he's been stripped of all independence, he still acts polite and gentle with you. It's not something a dirty kidnapper like you deserves, but he does it all the same.
“Argenti,” you call out gently, “Time for dinner.” You walk into the room that has become Argenti’s for the last several months.
Argenti looks up from where he’s brushing out his hair. “Oh,” he says ever-so-gently, “It’s already dinner time?”
You place the tray down in front of him before you take a seat across from Argenti. The chains leading to the cuff around his ankle clank as he scoots back to make space for you. It’s unnecessary, but kind of him all the same.
“Did you already eat?” Argenti inquires softly. He’s reaching towards the fork before you slap his hand away. He flinches back, eyes staring at you helplessly.
“Argenti!” You snap, displeased.
“… I can feed myself,” he whines quietly, a soft, sad trill in his voice. You soften a bit, after all, you can never stay mad at kind, sweet Argenti.
“I know,” you tell him sweetly, but sternly – you can’t let him get the wrong idea – your words deliberate, “But I want to feed you. You’re so pretty and sweet, and you deserve to be pampered.”
Argenti looks like he wants to protest, but after a moment, he keeps silent. He’d been vehemently against your delicate treatment of him in the beginning. With a bit of persuasion, through both verbal and physical means, it thrills you that he has come to accept your love.
You carefully pick up each forkful of food and place it into his mouth. You watch as Argenti chews and swallows, admiring how pretty, how beautiful he is. His lips, glossy and plush, close around the fork and you can’t help but think about how pretty it’d be if it was around your cock instead. Though, you note the way Argenti fists at the fabric of his pants. He’s upset, you think to yourself, but you can fix that.
When he finishes eating, you capture his lips in a deep kiss. You push him down to the floor, ignoring his whimper of protest. Your tongue slips into his mouth, exploring each little cavern of his mouth that you’d become so familiar with. You can taste the food that he has eaten, and it thrills you that he lets you be so intimate with him.
“Ah,” Argenti moans as you move from his mouth to sucking and nibbling his ear. You can feel his cock stirring in interest. You reach down into his pants and prod at his hole, still loose and wet with your cum from earlier in the day, fingers slipping in easily.
“N- no,” Argenti whimpers, trying to push you off of him, “It’s too soon…”
“You can take it,” you tell him gently, before pining his hands above his head with ease. “You’ve taken worse,” you say as you think about the fucking machine you’d use on him back when he still fought back.
As if struck by the same memories, Argenti goes limp in your hold, head tilting away, unwilling to look at you. You sigh at his stubbornness, but as long as he stays pliant, he’s willing, isn’t he?
You push your cock into him with ease, Argenti gasping lightly as you bottom out. You moan as well, loving the way he clenches around you. Each thrust felt so damn good, and you couldn’t help but adore Argenti even more. From the way Argenti’s cock twitched with need, the little shivers of pleasure, his sweet moans and whimpers with each thrust, and the way his beautiful, emerald eyes glaze over – you love him so, so much.
Each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge, and when you finally cum, you bury yourself into him, filling him with even more of your cum. Argenti makes a sound beneath you, like a sob, but you ignore it, preferring to snuggle close to him. The feeling of being so close to him, being connected to him with your cock inside of him, it fills you with so much warmth.
You are a terrible, terrible person. You’ve kidnapped Argenti, forced him into a state of completely dependent on you, but you can’t help but think it was worth it. After all, wasn’t it proof that your love was meant to be that he was so gentle and pliant and sweet beneath you?
“I love you,” you whisper gently into his ears, arms wrapped around him. Nothing else mattered now, only Argenti. Glassy green eyes look away from you, silent.
I have a few ideas to spew then, if you're ok with them — but they're all dottore related
imagine being infatuated with akademiya Zandik, watching him in class; staring at him as you fantasize about taking what should be yours, zoning out to the idea of pounding his hole untill he ends up liking it ❤️
either that, or, sth I think about a lot — cannibalizing omega build Dottore, for some reason.
Just.. auuh
Lmao I'm so sorry it took this long for me to answer >3> This somehow ended up more as a yandere piece more anything haha... I hope you like it
Characters: Il Dottore/Zandik, NB! Reader, can be read as either/or
Warnings: Yandere! Reader, Parasocial Relationship
He’s too pretty for his own good.
It’s an ugly thought, but it’s one you have quite often. With his smooth pale skin, soft blue hair, and cold red eyes, it’s pretty much agreed throughout the students of the Akademiya that despite his personality, Zandik was extremely attractive. You think it’s cute though, the way he obsesses over ruin guards like you obsess over him.
You don’t see him often, being in a different Darshan and all, but you fantasize about him enough that it doesn’t take long before you actively seek him out. You watch him in the library, hiding yourself between the bookshelves and pretending to be browsing; you watch him the hallways between the dorms, acting as if it were coincidence for you to leave the dorms at the same time; you watch him during the few times you two share classes, letting the professor’s words drown into nothingness as your brain only had thoughts for him; you watch, and you watch, and you watch. You’re lucky that Zandik seemed more interested in his research than he is in the people around him.
Your imagination is just as obsessive as you are – your dreams are filled with of bending him over, fucking him senseless in the library, muffling Zandik’s moans and whimpers with whatever you have on hand, lest you two get caught. You daydream of stuffing him full of toys and locking him with a chastity belt, ass full and horny, but unable to relieve himself as he goes about his day. Your thoughts fill with pounding him over the desks in the classroom, fucking him until he cums over and over again until he’s shaking from the oversensitivity, letting the fluids spill everywhere, as if animals marking their territory.
He probably wouldn’t be willing at first, you sometimes muse, but he was made for you, you delude yourself. If only Zandik wasn’t so into his research, you think, he’d realize that you’d would be perfect together, that you could satisfy whatever urges that he’d have and more. Not those pests that flocked towards him, all blood-sucking fleas that were only attracted to his looks, all thinking they could change him for the better.
Every time one of his fans flirted with him, you imagined punishing him for cheating on you. You imagined tying him up to a chair, stark naked. You’d pinch him nipples until they turned red and hard, and his cock was stiff and dripping with need. He’d be blindfolded and gagged, but you’d hear his whimpers and moans all the same, muffled noises of begging reluctantly being dragged out of him and tears soaking into the blindfold. You’d play with him for as long as you can, licking his balls and dragging your tongue to the tip of his cock, teasing and slow. You’d taste the tip of his cock, precum dripping out as if it were crying as well, before ignoring it entirely, abandoning it in favor of his hole. You dream of roughly fingering him for his imagined cheating, making sure to hit his prostate with each thrust, but stopping right before he cums. You’d wait a bit, letting Zandik’s muffled begging wash you over, before you start again, and repeating the process over and over again until Zandik was mush against the chair, too fucked out and needy to form coherent thoughts.
Zandik was yours, even if he didn’t know it yet. You’d make sure of it. It didn’t matter that you’d only exchanged words with him a couple of times. It didn’t matter that he probably didn’t know your name. It didn’t even matter that Zandik very likely didn’t even know you existed. You loved him for who he was, and you were the only one who could ever love him so much. Even if Zandik rejected you at first, it was because he was shy. You were the only one for him, and even if you had to work hard to make sure he knew it, Zandik would eventually love you back.
helloo!! loved your Dottore fanfic, I have a question though; do you take requests?
Thank you!! I'm glad you liked it! I do take requests, though no promises on how long it'll take me 😅
do you have a dni/byf?
Nope :D I'm just glad anyone likes my weird brain vomit lol. Do be warned, I like dark content, so that's what I tend to write, and no hate please
Characters: Il Dottore, AMAB! Reader
Warnings: Non-Con, Torture, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, Drugs
A tale of three failed escapes.
I.
It's dark. Dottore has no idea where he is or how he even got here. The last thing he remebered was storming off after a useless meeting, annoyance clouding his mind, fully intent on returning to his precious experiment. Yet, somehow, he was now in a dark cell, with the only light coming from behind a locked door.
With each little movement, the chains that bind him down clank. There's a cuff around his ankle and collar around his neck, both heavy and securely locked with a sturdy padlock, with chains that lead to the bedframe, which is bolted to the ground unfortunately. The chains aren't long enough for Dottore to go anywhere close to the door either, frustratingly enough.
"You're awake!" The door creaks open, finally. In enters a person Dottore does not recognize yet feels vaguely familiar.
"I've been waiting for you to wake up for so long," you complain, "I think I used too much sedative, but I was worried you'd wake up while I was still getting everything ready! Thank the archons you've enhanced yourself as much as you have - I think the dosage would've killed a normal person."
This person, Dottore thinks incredulously, is fucking crazy. To attack a harbinger - Dottore himself no less - is one thing. It's expected to for them to have some enemies, but it's whole other thing for someone to drug and kidnap one.
You prattle on for even longer, slender fingers twirling around a set of keys. Dottore stopped paying attention, no longer interested. If you were stupid enough to flaunt off the keys to his chains, then it would only be prudent for him to waste as little time necessary to escape and give you a slow death for the trouble you've caused.
The moment you walk into his range, Dottore snaps. He might be a researcher and scientist at heart, but he was the second for a reason and it doesn't take much to overpower you.
Dottore knocks you out with a strong blow to the head. It's disgusting how weak you are, he grumbles to himself, kidnapped by a stupid weakling.
As he turns around to unlock the cuffs around his ankle and neck, he fails to notice you getting back up, brushing off the blow as if it were nothing. It's not until he's shrieking in pain from an electrical shock that breaks him out of his concentration, and to his horror, face-to-face with you.
"Sorry, darling," you purr, "I'm afraid it's not going to be that easy. But hey, since you're so excited to be here, why don't we get started with lesson one?"
Dottore's vision is darkening, but he watched angrily as you place your hands around his throat and squeeze. The last thing he sees before he passes out - whether it be from the electrical shock or the lack of air, Dottore doesn't know - is the crazy glint of excitement that he'd seen in himself many times before. Dread pools in his stomach and everything goes black.
II.
Dottore was tired. There's a bone-deep tiredness that's been persisting ever since you'd kidnapped him. How long has it been? A month? Two months? No natural light enters the cell that you keep him in and the only other indicator of time passing is you coming and going.
There are bruises all over him; you liken it to adding color to a canvas, each one blooming into blues, purples, and blacks. Everything hurts. There's dried semen on his thighs and chest, but it's easier to ignore compared to everything else.
Dottore automatically stiffened at the ominous creaking of the door opening. You step in, humming cheerfully. In your hands is a tray of disgusting, horrendous slop. Dottore looks away from you, unwilling to submit himself to your whims despite the gnawing hunger.
"Ah, this game again?" You ask, amusement coloring your voice. "When will you learn," you tut. You say more words, but he's not listening, too tired to care. You roll your eyes at him before placing the slop on the ground and leaving.
The door closes behind you, but it lacks the distinctive click of the lock. The sound of footsteps getting feinter and feinter indicates you leaving though.
Dottore stares. There's no way you'd forget to lock the door... Would you?
It's dumb, and maybe it's the pain and exhaustion that fuels this escape attempt. It's so painfully obvious that it's a trap, but Dottore is nothing if not desperate.
Tugging at the chains, the loosened links came free. Hesitantly, Dottore stalked towards the door, afraid to make too much noise, lest you come back to investigate.
Peeking out the door, he sees no one. Despite the fear and the gut instinct of something feeling wrong coursing through him, Dottore refused to retreat back into the cold embrace and safety of the cell behind him. There's another door a small distance ahead, an exit perhaps?
Dottore takes his first steps towards freedom, before breaking into a run, hurrying before you come back. He would escape, he would -
A sharp pain from his head stops him in his tracks - or rather, you slam him into the wall does. Dottore sees stars and before he knows it, he's on the ground, blood bleeding out and running down his face.
"I'm going to kill you," Dottore snarls weakly, dizziness and pain quickly overtaking his senses, "I'm going to cut you into pieces and burn you alive," he slurs.
You laugh. Dottore is already weak from the time he's spent with you, and the head injury doesn't help, so it doesn't take much for you to hold him down despite his struggling. You unzip your pants, and Dottore stills.
"This is your punishment, darling," you coo as he started hyperventilating beneath you. You're not kind, Dottore had found out early on, but usually your punishments were physical, not sexual. Sex only happened after you'd coerced him into it in exchange for something else. Never as a punishment.
Your dick is objectively big, but for some reason, it feels even bigger than usual when you penetrate him. You don't bother to stretch or lube him up, and Dottore feels the lack of preparation keenly. It's painful and slow, and the whimpers the escape him would've been embarrassing if the pain of his insides rearranging themselves to make way for you wasn't as painful as it was.
By the time you bottomed out, Dottore was only moments away from passing out, but a sharp slap across the face brought him back.
"Ah - ah," you taunt, "if you black out now, I'd have to punish you even more later."
Without warning, you pull out before proceeding to slam yourself back in. Dottore howled at the suddenness, and the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and pain began to mix together as you fucked him senseless. Soon, blood slickened your movement and your roughness smoothed into a steady pace. Your hands grip onto his thin waist, nails digging into thin flesh, undoubtedly leaving even more marks. You fuck him like a ragdoll, and Dottore was helpless to stop you.
The harsh pace is unforgiving, and by the time you've cum, Dottore was extremely close to blacking out again. You cum inside him, painting his insides white. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, Dottore whined, his own cock hard, yet lacking the necessary enough stimulation to get a release.
You laugh at him, looking down on him as if he were a dumb bitch in heat. You take pity on him - or at least Dottore assumes you do - and dig your fingers into his prostate. It takes several harsh jabs before he spills all over himself, and Dottore silently curses his masochistic tendencies. But, at the very least, you seem to have had your fill, he relaxes, letting exhaustion fill him.
"This isn't the end of your punishment, unfortunately for you," You taunt, "You belong to me, and only me, you know? It seems my silly pet still wants to escape, so I need to make sure I train you well. I need to make sure you know, and your body knows, that I'm the only person who will ever love you!"
The last thing he sees is the sadistic gleam in your eyes, a familiar look that Dottore no doubt had on his own face once upon a time.
He blacks out, body aching and terror griping his heart.
The next time Dottore wakes up, he’s back in the dark, cold cell. There's something - a vibrator - in him, and he's tied down to the bed. You've taken everything: his pride, his freedom, and his dignity. You've crushed it beneath your heel and the only thing Dottore could do was laugh at the irony until he cried.
The mad scientist sobbed and screamed into the unforgiving darkness, unable to move and unknowing of when you'd return.
III.
He's wet and shivering. Archons, why was he so stupid. To run away when you loved him when you took good care of him.
Dottore was hiding in an alleyway a couple blocks away from where you'd kept him captive, not that he knew where the hell he was. It's definitely still in Snezhnaya, if the amount of snow meant anything, but it was a big enough country that Dottore still had no idea where he was.
He could go back, but... The thought of your anger, however, was enough to hesitate. Besides, he still was loyal to the Tsaritsa, and still had a duty to the Fatui... didn't he?
Angry stomps interrupted his thoughts. No, dread pools in his guts, it seems, you had already found him before Dottore could make any decision at all.
You stare at his pathetic form, face blank of any emotion.
Dottore pathetically crawled towards you, body already numb from the cold. He could salvage this, he thought desperately, you loved him, after all. You'd forgive him... Right?
"M' sorry," he mewled pathetically, clinging onto your pants, "I didn't mean to," he adds. He practically kneeling in the snow, too weak to get up, as well as trying to act as submissive as possible. The collar around his neck feels heavy, despite being only made of leather. You'd placed it there, changing it from the heavy lead to a lighter leather, calling it a reward for good behavior.
But Dottore had misbehaved, and now, you're angry.
"It seems," you sigh, and the next words that come out of your mouth freeze Dottore even more than the cold did, "that I still haven't trained you well enough."
Dottore opened his mouth - to beg, to scream, he didn't know - but before he could, the sharp jab of needle made its way into his neck, and you injected a strong sedative into him. Dottore slumped down into the snow, misery filling his wretched heart and vision darkening.
.
.
He wakes up strapped to an examination table. The table beneath him is warm, but the air is as cold as ever, and Dottore shivers. His mouth is being forced open by a ring gag and his legs were forced apart by a spreader bar. There's something huge inside of him, it stretches out his hole to a burning degree.
"Finally awake, dear?"
Dottore tilted his head to look towards you. There’re no emotions on your face, and you're holding a bottle filled with a clear liquid.
He whines, a last-ditch attempt at placating you. It's useless, he knows, it's already too late for him. The room is cold, but the trembles that wrack his body stem from fear.
You ignore him, opting to instead pour the contents of the bottle down his throat. It doesn't take long for Dottore to figure out what exactly you'd given him.
The aphrodisiac that you give him is strong. Dottore couldn't help but jerk and fight against the restraints, the burning need for stimulation becoming overwhelming.
You laugh at him, and instead of relieving him, you turn on something beside you, and in turn, the thing that's inside of him - a dildo - starts moving in and out. At first, the pace is slow, slow enough that he couldn't help but whine for more, but within moments, speeds up into a harsh pace.
"I think that should be good for now," you hum. Dottore's moans and breathy screams permeated the air. Even the slightest of touches from you were quickly becoming too much.
It doesn't take long before the first spurts of cum spill out, but the machine is unbudging, and so are you.
"A- ahh!" The need for more and feeling of too much clash, Dottore cries, feeling overwhelmed. You're laughing at him he notes out of the corner of his eye. He’s squirming against the restraints even more now, desperate to escape.
It's too much, he thinks; I'm going to die.
The machine continues to fuck him. It's going to fuck him to death, Dottore can't help but think hysterically, he's going to die here, still trapped by your love.
With another rough thrust, Dottore cums again. And again. And again. And again.
You're still watching him as the drugs wear off, as his dick softens, yet the machine still continues to thrust into his loose hole, unable to even clench down. There's no way he could cum again, but the machine continues to wring orgasm after orgasm out of him, even if no liquid spills out.
It takes one last dry orgasm before you finally stop the machine mid-thrust. Your hands softly run across his body, each feather-light touch makes him twitch and jerk, body too sensitive. With swift hands, you remove the gag. Dottore quickly snapped down, wishing he was able to rub his sore jaw.
"Well," you ask, "what do you have to say for yourself?"
Dottore trembled under your harsh stare, breaths coming out uneven and short.
You frown. You reach out to pet him on his head this time, each pet soft and kind. "You know I love you, right? I'm only doing this for your sake," you tell him, "The Fatui are no good for you. You belong here, with me."
"Look at you, so wrecked and slutty. This is what you're born for, you're a perfect whore," you add, "So give up, Zandik, I'm the only one who'll love you no matter what, so be good for me, m'kay?"
Dottore Zandik sobbed, dam bursting open, tears spilling. You were right, weren't you? His parents hadn't loved him, the Fatui hadn't cared enough to find him.
Only you would love a monster like him.
"I love you," he hears you say, and it hurts to hear. There's a part of him that's screeching, angry that you've reduced him to such a pathetic, humiliating state.
The rest of him is quiet though. He's given up. You love him, so you're only doing this for his sake, his mind rationalizes.
"Love you," he mumbles between the sobs and tears, "I love you. I'm s- sorry for running, for being no good."
You smile gently down at him, but your eyes are cruel and cold. You're satisfied by his obedience.
Zandik cried and cried, the reality of his situation finally settling in. There was no escape from you; your love was drowning him and finally, Zandik let himself be drowned.
Characters: Asano Gakuho, NB! Reader
Warnings: Non-Con, Fisting, Humiliation
He's glaring at you still, teeth clenched behind his duct-taped lips and trembling rage.
It's a little fucked up, but you think that's probably the cutest thing about him. Maybe that's just your tastes showing through the careful mask you've built for yourself.
The muffled growling distracts you from your musings.
"Aww," you coo, "Is Mr. Chairman angry?" You grin, sharp teeth, and predatory gleam in your eye, "Are you angry that a so-called failure like me managed to get the better of you?"
The look Asano Gakuho sends you could probably burn someone alive with how heated it was, but all it does is make you throw your head back and laugh.
Look at you now, you think, a graduate of the E-class, the "End" class, finally taking their revenge on the demonic principal of Kunugigaoka. It was truly irony at its finest - a mutt finally taking that sweet, sacred bite out of the cruel, immovable master.
You have him handcuffed to the headrest of the bed in your guest bedroom, legs spread with a spreader bar and drugged for good measure. You don't live in the best of places, and your neighbors are just as seedy and would look the other way as long as you did the same for their activities. There's a camera that's already recording and aimed perfectly at his ass, ready to tape him being taken and humiliated by one of his former so-called failures.
"You know," you tell him as you pour lube over your hands, "those three years I was there were pretty much hell thanks to you." Gakuho's eyes watched as the lube flowed down from the bottle to your hand, eyes narrowing as if a sneaking suspicion was being confirmed.
You move to insert the first finger - you're not that cruel after all. You doubt that Gakuho has ever been taken up the ass, and you're not in the mood to rip him open - not right now anyways.
It's a slow entry, and like you'd predicted, it's tight. The only indication that Gakuho had even felt it was the clenching you felt around your finger, hands lax and glare ever-present on the demon chairman's face.
You slowly move onto another finger, then another, and another until you had three fingers shifting and stretching in his ass, probing around. You carefully probe around for his prostate and - ah, there you go, you think as you rub onto that sweet, sensitive gland.
"Mmmgh!"
"Does it feel good?" you ask insincerely, fingers brushing past it over and over again, watching as Gakuho began to squirm ever so slightly. A thought comes to you and just as quickly, you press down hard onto his prostate.
"Mmmmgh!!"
Unfortunately for Gakuho, by now you've had your fun with teasing him. Exerting a bit of force, you begin to push in the rest of your fingers, then your knuckles, and before you knew it, muffled screeching and half a sob accompanies the small trickle of blood that comes with you having shoved your entire hand into Gakuho's ass.
Looking up to his face, you snicker when you see his unshed tears. "I suppose you are only human," you say cruelly, "So cry if you want, the camera will make sure to record it in full, sir."
Clenching your hand into a fist, you start thrusting into him at a brutal pace. Despite having had your entire hand shoved into his hole, you making a fist stretches it even more than before and Gakuho clenches down on you, pain and panic slowly overtaking his sense of reasoning.
With your other hand, you take his soft cock and start playing with it, slow and careful touches in contrast to your roughness with his ass. You relish in the desperation in Gakuho's eyes as he unwillingly gets hard, another betrayal by his own body this time.
It doesn't take too long for Gakuho to cum, toes curling, and fists clenched. His cum spills over your hands and his stomach. You continue to stimulate him until he starts struggling and screaming again, this time from overstimulation.
It's not until your phone starts ringing that you realize how much time has passed, and unfortunately, you have places to be today. Reluctantly pulling your fist out with a pop, you watch fascinated by the way Gakuho's ass clenches down onto nothing, unable to properly close because of how much you've stretched him.
You stretch a bit and clean your hands off, ignoring the way Gakuho's eyes track your every movement. After stopping the recording and putting away your camera, you finally turn back to Gakuho.
You peel off the duct tape off his mouth to reveal a scowl. "Aw, don't give me that look, I even was nice enough to let you cum," you mock.
He adverts his eyes, anger and shame brewing just below the surface.
"You..." the spite in his voice is briming with acid, and it brings you much joy to bring your former principal down.
"Anyways, this was fun! But I have to head out now," you laugh as he realizes that the position that he's still in. "I'll be back later, so try not to be too noisy, m'kay? My neighbors can be even meaner than me, and well, with how much of a whore you look like now, maybe they'll try you out, if you annoy them."
With that, you leave behind a trembling Gakuho, handcuffed and spread out, ass loose and bloody and his cum slowly drying on his stomach.
Characters: Larry, NB! Reader
Kinks: Stomach Bulging, Breeding/Pregnancy Kink
For someone who looks so plain and normal, Larry is surprisingly kinky. It’s fun though, because it means you can often talk him into trying things he’d never heard or thought of, like now for instance.
Stomach bulging and lips trembling, Larry looked nothing short of delectable to your eyes. Larry’s never been particularly expressive, so it’s the little things that he shows that gets to you the most. You’d come across the idea on an adult forum, and while Larry had been hesitant at first, it wasn’t very long before the businessman had been entranced by the idea.
He’s sitting on your lap, as much as he can anyways with a plug and stomach bulging as it is, and the tight grip he has around your neck is starting to hurt a bit. “That’s… five pokeballs,” you pat his stomach, “Look at you sweetheart, it’s almost like you’re pregnant.”
The unamused look he sends you is cute, but the blush that accompanies it is even cuter.
“Would you like that, hmm~? To be bred and filled up?”
A low whine escapes from Larry, “J- just… hurry up,” he mumbles, and you suppose the poor guy has been filled up long enough. Reaching over you tease at the plug, twisting it and pushing and pulling at it in short bursts until Larry’s low moans become high pitched whines of neediness.
“Take it out already,” the breathless whimper reaches your ears. Without further ado, you pull out the plug in one swift motion. The tightening grip and tensing up is your only warning before the pokeballs you’d manage to stuff into Larry start falling out.
They fall out one-by-one until all five slimy balls are rolling around the floor, each having fallen out with ease. You wish you could’ve seen the way Larry’s ass twitched and stretched as they fell out, but the glazed, fucked out expression Larry has is pretty good too. Looking down, you see that he’s cum too.
“Looks like you had a good time, huh,” you bite and mark Larry’s neck, eliciting a small whine of protest from the dazed man. “Let’s try for seven next time~”
Characters: Zenin Naoya, M! Reader
Warnings: Non-Con, Somnophilia, Drugging
It's stupidly easy to slip some sleeping pills into the youngest Zenin heir's food. No one doubts you, no one questions the food, because obviously they were superior, and obviously you were too stupid to do anything that could cause them harm. But here you are, a mere servant, standing in Zenin Naoya's room as the man sleeps unaware and dead to the world. It's a shame how pretty he was, as the moment he opened his mouth, the image would be ruined.
Removing Naoya's sleeping yukata is barely even necessary, the thin cloth already splayed out, as if inviting your wandering hands to touch him. You do so with a furious vigor, hands pinching and groping as much bare flesh as you can. As much as you hate him, you can’t deny that Naoya is well-built and firm, and when you reach for his chest, it’s nice and fleshy, almost like female breasts. Taking a nipple between your fingers, you roll it around and squeeze and pull and tug. As you reach to do the same with the other one, you realize it’s already hard, and so is his dick. As you continue to play with Naoya’s breasts – because what else could they be – one particularly harsh tug startles out a whimper from the unconscious sorcerer.
“Ha! What a slut,” you laugh to yourself, “The great Zenin Naoya in reality is just a no-good whore.”
You reach for the lube, but it’s not really necessary. After all, you had been extra careful to stretch out and prep Naoya for the past month, testing the waters and all that. And seeing as you were still alive, the Zenin had yet to wake for even a bit once. These drugs, you muse, were truly as strong as they claimed to be.
Your fingers reach inside and start massaging Naoya’s swollen prostate – a result of your careful training – and with each stroke, small twitches and moans escaped from the sleeping Naoya. You don’t stop until he cums, a stream of white spraying everywhere that you knew you undoubtedly would have to be careful cleaning up before leaving.
“Tch,” you click your tongue, “So needy, aren’t you. Now that you’ve gone and made a mess, I guess I better quickly have my fun.” You penetrate Naoya with little force, after all, he was already wet and loose and ready for you. With a grunt, you start fucking him at a brutal pace. Naoya was asleep after all and was basically a cock sleeve that didn’t need any gentleness.
Wet slaps and pants and moans filled the air as you soon start thrusting erratically. When you finally cum, you reluctantly pull out. As much as you’d like to leave your seed inside of him, breeding him like the whore that he was, you didn’t particularly desire to get caught and killed.
Alas, your fun is over and so you tidy up yourself and Naoya, before quickly cleaning up the cum that had landed on the floor. It probably wouldn’t be until another couple days before you could play with Naoya again, but for now, you were satisfied. You double check that no one else was around before you leave his room. As you leave, you pause at the doorway and send one last lustful look at him.
“Have a good rest, Naoya-sama~”
Characters: Lucius, NB! Reader
Warnings: Non-con; Kidnapping; Obsession
The man that you have tied up in your basement fascinates you to no end. His long, platinum hair enthralls you like, shimmering like a river of precious metal.
Despite being unconscious - knocked out from a particularly strong shock - this man that has you under his thrall still carried an air of haughtiness and arrogance.
You'd only seen him from afar, and even then, sometimes he would have a mask donned on, though of course, you recognized him no matter what.
"Mmm..."
This lovely man that had fallen into your twisted grips was finally waking up, you excitedly realize. Even now, you could tell his voice would be beautiful as the man that owned it.
"Hello," you whisper, careful not to scare the man. You double-check your setup, and yes, everything was perfect. You had purposely bought a fucking machine for him, and it was all set up and ready to run. Normally, you'd all be for fucking him yourself, but right now, you wanted to watch his expressions, every single moan and whimper would be yours to savor and enjoy.
"W-what?"
The man's eyebrows were scrunched in confusion. You just smiled prettily, welcoming his confusion. As he strained against his bonds, the confusion soon turned to anger, and of course, fear.
"I am Lucius Malfoy, and I will not be toyed with by a damn muggle!"
Lucius, you think. So his name is Lucius. How pretty, and how fitting. You smile through his rage, as if he were nothing more than a toddler throwing a tantrum, and well, wasn't he pratically useless without that twig of his that you'd carefully removed from his person and hid?
You ignore the rest of ranting and howling, choosing to instead turn on the machine. It starts off slow, like a careful lover, but you soon turn up the speed and watch as Lucius wailed and moaned.
The blonde's cock had quickly turned hard, and you wondered if maybe this wasn't his first time. Even if so, the stubborn growls and shouting for you to stop soon turned into incomprehesible moans and whimpers. It didn't take long for him to finally cum, and you savored the unshed tears and darting eyes that shone with both fear and anger.
He was undoubtedly beautiful now, with his anger and fear. But you prefered despair, and well, now that he was here with you, you would make sure that he learned quickly.
Characters: Rei, Saburo
Warnings: Dub/Non-con; Parent/Child Incest; Manipulation; Torture; Dom! Saburo; Yandere; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Note: This is a semi-continuation of Twisted Thorns from my AO3! It just gives a bit of pre-context though, I don't think it's necessary to read.
Side 1: Saburo
“Good morning, Rei.”
“…”
Saburo coldly looked down on the pathetic lump that was his sperm donor.
Where had all the bravado gone? It had only been three days of starvation and isolation, but Rei now quietly kneeled at his feet, blank expression facing down and a slight tremble in his shoulders. It was an adorably pathetic sight, and Saburo reveled in it.
“I said,” Saburo repeated again, “Good morning, Rei.”
The trembling worsens, and a hitched breath alerts Saburo to how close Rei is to breaking down again. He doesn’t care though. Every little scream and sob delighted Saburo, and now was no different.
“G- good morning…” The older man chokes out, and each breath sounds dangerously close to a sob.
In the year that Rei had spent alone with Saburo, it practically seemed like the man had learned nothing, Saburo sighs internally. He hated repeating himself, but for his pathetic little pet, he could be patient. Wasn’t Saburo so kind, to teach an old and useless dog like Rei new tricks?
“C’mon,” Saburo sighs, “you look disgusting. Clean up first, then you can eat.”
He briefly stops to pat Rei on the cheek before leaning over to unlock the chains binding Rei’s feet to the bed. The way Rei leans into the touch and practically whimpers when Saburo’s hand leaves doesn’t escape Saburo’s notice. It’s rather cute how touch-starved Rei had become after only a year, having only interacted with Saburo in that time.
Once the chains were unlocked, Saburo waited for Rei to slowly struggle his way to the bathroom, another monotonous routine in an every-vicious cycle of abuse, and today would be no different. Rei would strip in the bathroom to reveal a collection of bruises and cuts. Saburo would mock him relentlessly and Rei flinch and shrink into himself with each word. Afterwards, Saburo would allow Rei to eat a small portion of food – not enough to really fill even child – just enough that Rei would not starve to death. Rei won’t complain though, even has the hunger pains became overwhelming. He’d learnt early on it would only earn himself more pain and suffering.
This pain and suffering was his own fault anyways. It was Rei's fault for abandoning them. Rei's fault for not being good enough, not strong enough. Wasn't it Rei's fault for being so pretty that Saburo could do nothing but love and obsess over him?
So Saburo had taken Rei to become his and his only. Had forced Rei to submit.
Rei truly had become Saburo cute, pathetic pet.
Side 2: Rei
The worst part of having sex with Saburo is that it wasn't unpleasant. Sure, Saburo could be rough and cruel, but there was always something that kept the experience from being another torture in this endless hellhole.
That was the lie Rei told himself, anyways. He knew fully well that so-called ‘something’ was simply the warmth and contact that sex brought along with it. It was wrong – so, so very wrong – yet, in the beginning, he had hesitated in fighting back, in attempting to harm Saburo. Nowadays, Rei simply had no strength or energy to struggle – nor would he out of fear of retaliation.
"I love you," Saburo would whisper, nails digging deep into fragile skin as if clamping down and trapping Rei. Possessive bites and marks usually followed, Rei's body a canvas of abuse and pain.
Every time Saburo leaned down and kissed him, every sweet empty whisper, Rei reminded himself that this was not love. It was an obsession, and an obsession that Rei had lost to.
What a shitty love.
In the end, wasn't this all his own fault? Wasn't this Rei's fault for not being good enough, for wanting something he had abandoned so long ago? This pain was deserved, every touch from Saburo - no matter how wrong - was the result of Rei's own failures.
In the end, Rei could only succumb to Saburo, and to the consequences of his own actions.
Characters: Ghetsis, male! Reader
Warnings: Non-con; A/B/O-verse; Dom! Alpha! male reader
The first thing Ghetsis thinks, is that the thing pushing against his back is massive.
It’s hot and heavy, and the inexplicable need for it to be inside of him is overwhelming. The smell of it permeates the small room that he’s been trapped in.
It smells good, he thinks to himself, groggily. It’s the hormones, Ghetsis knows this, but no matter how much he tried to resist, tried to fight against instinct, it was a battle of futility.
You had pinned him down in his heat, and there was no more fighting back. There was no resisting. The only thing Ghetsis could do was clench his teeth and endure.
If Ghetsis had been in any other state, the man would've been raving and screaming about being superior, about being better than this, but now was not that time. Right now, Ghetsis's brain was flooded with heat hormones - the both of you knew this, one more keenly than the other - and no matter how much the older man denied his secondary gender, there was no fighting nature.
The first push against the tight rings of muscle is painful - no matter how much slick there was dripping down Ghetsis's legs, the truth of the matter was that he had refused to lay with anyone for many years, leaving Ghetsis's ass tight and unused to being penetrated.
With a grunt, you push into him in one swift motion. The piercing scream that follows is to be expected, as is the sudden tight clenching down on your dick. You hum, pleased.
"No, no, nononono..." Ghetsis mumbles and pleads. His whole body is trembling, hands gripping the sheets with white knuckles and nails digging into his palms.
Your dick perfectly brushes past his prostate, hitting depths that Ghetsis hadn't realized even exists, but the pleasure is nearly overwhelmed by the pain of being penetrated without preparation.
Nearly, but not quite.
As you begin to fuck him in earnest, each thrust either hitting his prostate or close enough, leaves Ghetsis gasping and whimpering. The pain begins to mix with sensations of pleasure and starts becoming too much.
By the time you finally spill your seed into him, knot swelling and stretching his ass, Ghetsis's mind had gone blank. Dark chuckles fill the air as tears begin to roll down Ghetsis's cheeks. Stifling down on ugly sobs, Ghetsis could only silently endure as he himself finally came. The waves of pleasure and rightness of being fucked warred with the hatred of submitting.
"What a slutty omega you are," You say, mouth so close to his ears that he could feel your every breath and hands brusingly tight on his hips. Ghetsis shuddered, partially out of fear and partially out of disgust.
"My beautiful, slutty omega," you purr, "You won't have to suffer pretending to be strong anymore. You can just be my cute fuck toy, just like you were born to be."
Ghetsis could only silently cry as the alpha before him took control of everything - of his mind that still refused to submit and of his body that had betrayed him.
