notes: abusive relationship, re:zero season 3 spoilers, dehumanization, near death experience, choking, public omorashi/wetting
regulus always needs to keep one of his wives by his side, at least... one needs to be within distance for him to feel their love, for his authority to constantly be active.* you're a good pick because you're well-trained and don't stand out within a crowd. not the chatty type, either, at least not with most people. you can stand still and hardly even seem to be breathing at all. it's perfect!
when you slip up, he doesn't care where the two of you are to punish you. it's his right, as your husband, to treat you however he wishes-- and none of these insects can do anything to stop him, regardless. regulus told you to follow him and you'd gotten momentarily distracted. perhaps by a cute animal, perhaps something pretty in a storefront window. a flicker of a smile crossing over your face and a few people passing you by is enough to win his ire.
regulus knows how to pull a leash tight, and you've caught him in a bad mood. when you rush up towards him again, you're unsure whether to stay as blank as usual or to show remorse and apologise. maybe both answers would've been wrong.
his face is scrunched up with disgust, deep lines creasing his forehead as the tip of his nose twitches. "i have so many prettier wives. in my kindness, i keep allowing you to accompany me, and this is how i am repaid? delaying me. making me look for you." it wasn't even half a minute that you were separated from him.
"husband..." you start slowly, the tremor in your voice already spelling your doom. you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, head lowered. "i was in the wrong. i'm sorry, and i humbly hope that you will accept-"
"no," regulus simply says and his words nail you to the floor. "no, i will not." your eyes flicker up and find absolutely nothing in his gaze. no scrap of humanity for you to cling on or appeal to.
you inhale, but it does nothing. your eyes widen. your hands start to shake. opening your mouth, you try to breathe and it just doesn't work! nothing's happening!! it's like the very air is frozen around you, none of it coming close to entering your lungs. what is going on?! you're quickly running out of oxygen, the pressure on your skull increasing and heart thudding in your ears.
regulus simply stares. you still cannot breathe.
you must look like you're going crazy, standing in the middle of the street, trembling all over and clawing at your throat on instinct, at the pain, the crushing pressure starting at your lungs and spreading all throughout your body. until your legs buckle. until your vision dances with dark spots and your bladder empties itself, soaking through your clothes in hot spurts. it leaves a puddle on the cobbled street around you.
you don't have the energy to think of shame. you're going to die. you're going to die. you're goingtototo
then, it's over. you're hacking and coughing and wheezing for air, eyes bulging out of your skull as you claw the tips of your fingers raw on the ground. your vision is blurry, both with tears and from the experience.
"get up," regulus spits out. "you're still alive. be glad that i was so merciful." he turns around, and expects you to follow.
Warnings: DARK CONTENT AHEAD. mentions of murder, blood and gore, description of injury, predator/prey kink, strapon, dumbification, rough sex, degradation.
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: part 2 of ghost face!Ymir
Mean.
That’s how she had described herself in that moment; mean, mean, mean. Apparently not mean enough when she’s bullying her thick cock into your convulsing body, smearing something unmentioned against your arched back and clapping her hips hard, hard, harder into your ass.
Something catches your elbow, a branch? It hurts, stings as it tears your skin deep enough to bring beads of crimson to the surface. There’s wetness on your bare feet, leaves sticking to your shins and mud caking your exposed thighs, staining the stupid, stupid white nightgown you were dressed in.
And nothing else. It pained you to run, not because of your feet, but because of your breasts heaving and the biting wind catching between your legs, hissing through the welts shaped like fingers around your throat. Time had stopped since she’d let you go, since she’d brought that dreadful mask close to your face and demanded you look at her with fake sweetness in her voice, cooing at you when you start crying and batting open your legs from where you had been subconsciously clenching them together at the simper and the hot breath you felt wet your neck. It was nighttime, you knew that because it was impossible to see anything two foot in front of you, darkness swirling and beckoning you closer, promising you freedom where you knew barbed wire and broken glass lay in wait for prey as pretty, and as innocent as the others.
Were you innocent? With how clean your hands were, yes but with how soiled your inner thighs were, how drippy you were with every step, every tender shuffle around trees and through bracken; no, you were by no means innocent of the crimes beholden of her and her mask, and her fingers, and her cock. Tears sprung from your eyes involuntarily at a twig snapping in the distance, body freezing and breath catching in your throat, clogging your chest and causing you to splutter with fear, and with something else. You had seen her in the bathroom before, tightening the straps round her thighs and waist, shoving something into her jeans, cursing when she admired herself in the mirror for a moment; the bulge at her crotch pronounced and so - mouth watering. And yet, it belonged to someone with no face, a mask for you to cry at and claw at in the throes of your orgasms, plastic cold on your lips when you desperately search for a kiss you knew deep down would never come.
That was your fate, that was was awaited you when she finally caught you in the damp, in the damp, creeping up on you like she did with all her other victims; only their end would be met with a very different kind of warmth and wet. But the chase was no less terrifying, no less - paralysing with the voice that echoes through your head,
“Be careful not to run too far, don’t want those pretty feet all cut up - might slow you down and heh - where’s the fun in running down a wounded prey?”
Wounded. Hurt. She was so mean to you, thinking you were some lost soul she had plucked from the suburbs with the promise of lust and love and something thicker than the two. That was the promise that awaited you too, rubbed into your bottom and hitching the silk of your dress, bulging so, so close to where you felt yourself dripping with need for her. A hand disappears between your thighs, sobbing at the slick you find and you almost collapse when you accidentally swipe over your hardened clit, throbbing and ready, and too neglected to even think about.
How - how dare you even be this aroused? How stupid are you? As stupid as she tells you when she’s got you bouncing on her fingers in the back of her van that smells funny and has bottles of bleach in the footwell? Probably more so if the mere memory of that has you whimpering and half a second away from cumming in the middle of this god forsaken forest.
♡.
She can see you from a mile away, no - smell you. You are stupid, a stupid little whore who begs so pretty and so lovely for her cock near every night. Can’t get enough of the thing, can’t get enough of her even though - even though you have no idea what she looks like, no idea what her lips taste of, what colour her eyes are, whether she still has those freckles her mom used to count before tucking her in.
You were her prey tonight, you were her victim, her flesh to carve and maim, her blood to spill, her cunt to fuck as she pleased. And there you were, leaning against a tree with your silly little hand stuck between your silly little thighs, whimpering and moaning; a naive little doe in the eyes of a beast unnamed by humankind and feared by those of its own specie. Ymir had to give it to you, even beneath her mask she could smell your arousal, leaking into the wind and sending blood rushing to her cheeks; addictive and almost as mouth watering as the blood caked to the bottom of her converse.
Comfy things they were, convenient, easy to chuck in the washer and forget about for an hour. Comfy, light, good enough to chase in, quiet enough to sneak up close to you, close enough to smell the perfume she makes you wear, close enough to hear the lewd clicking of your fingers swiping through your sodden cunt, close enough to whisper deep and low,
“Gotta run bunny, run while you still have legs to walk on,”
♡.
Your scream echoes around you, feet thundering as loud as your heart, blinding you almost as you tear through the trees, down valleys and up hillocks. You didn’t care for the tears and bruises on your legs, didn’t care for the rips in your nightgown and the leaves clinging to your hair; she was close, so close and you - you could barely breathe. Adrenaline shoots through you, bones cold and skin colder with the sweat clinging to your pores. Right, left, a little way upwards - there was a big tree back there you could maybe hide in, or down by the stream? - a cry leaves your throat when your foot catches on a fallen branch, knees buckling and -
“No - no, up bunny, c’mon now,”
How is she still so close? How can you still smell the rancid stench of her clothing and see the ominous white of her mask through the dark? You’ve been running for hours, screaming with every howl and hoot and shudder in the earth, crying when the clouds part and reveal the new moon, dark and haunting and somehow ridiculing you. All this for some dick? Pathetic. Whore.
“I don’t want to play anymore!” Why are you stopping? Your body isn’t supposed to be doing this, you’re supposed to be running, scrambling, sobbing for mercy and yet - you’re slowing down with painful wheezes and gasping cries, “I don’t want to! I’m tired! I’m scared! I want to stop playing!”
Home didn’t even enter your mind, that was a foreign word to you now, strange and unfamiliar because home didn’t really exist anymore, not really, not in this blood thirsty world. You don’t stop moving, but you don’t speed up, clutching your chest and trying desperately to swallow down your fear, your saliva, your terror at the huffing and growling and beastial noises coming up behind you.
“You - are pathetic,”
The pain comes minutes after you hit the ground, cry muffled by long, lean fingers dripping with something and nothing at the same time. An arm hitches your hips up, propping you up on your knees and gravel digs into your skin, palms tearing on brambles and the flush of blood over your knuckles makes you -
“You’re so fucking - you’re such a whore,”
Even covered in mud, out of breath, crying and snotting, bloody and bruised, and most likely concussed; you’re grinding back into her crotch and moaning like a bitch in heat. Even in the darkness, Ymir can see the slick smearing across the tight material of her jeans, sliding with the audible pulse of your cunt and she almost rolls her eyes, almost snaps and brings your neck with it but maybe, maybe that’s why she gives in so easily, maybe that’s why she lifts one leg to brace and shoves your face into the mud, maybe that’s why she flips your dress over your hips and undoes her fly - because she likes it, she likes the way you’re so desperate and so dumb for her, so stupid that you blatantly overlook the knife lying only inches from your nose and can’t hear the zip ties clattering on her belt,
“Fucking fine then - if you want it so bad, if you’re fuckin’ gagging for my cock then take it, fuckin’ take it,”
A single slap to your clit has you keening and clawing at the dirt, thrashing and almost looking as tough you’re trying to get away from her, but she knows, she knows all this is because you’re so desperate to feel her deep and hard, just how you like it best. You scream, you arch your back, you’re positively weeping when Ymir forces the strap inside of you, thrusting down, down to where she knows you’ll drip pearly white and gush so nicely for her.
“Should’a run bunny, should’a done what ghost face wanted - might’a gone a bit nicer on your stupid whore cunt,”
Your whole body jiggles with her thrusts, being shoved up and through the leaf litter, hands scrambling for purchase and she’s sure you loose a nail in the fight, but you’re too busy leaking down her thighs to notice the blood smearing on your cheek.
“Nngh - f - fu -,” you’ve got a mouthful of mud and your breasts rub raw on the ground, but there’s a band in your belly and you can feel something building, feel claws down your back and latching on to the nape of your neck, pushing you further into the ground, a beast crowding over you, hard and big and dark. Pain blossoms over your spine as you are bent in half, ass so high in the air that you’re almost balancing on your tiptoes, skin tingling with the slamming of her hips into yours. Ymir spares you nothing, a fate worse than death maybe, splitting you open over and over with the girth of her cock, heavy against your cervix and bullying that soft spot over and over until she can see the sticky webs dripping from your pussy, fat lips plush against the silicon balls with every hard, hard, mean thrust.
Yes, this is where she’s mean, this is where ghost face is horrible and terrible and as mean as can be. Hardly letting up when you scream through your orgasm, gasping for breath and on the verge of hyperventilating, legs shaking and struggling to hold yourself up against the dizzying assault on your cunt. Hardly letting up when you sob and cry out for - something, more, deeper, harder -
“Please! More! Don’t - nagh - don’t stop!” There’s nothing behind your eyes, crossing and rolling and fluttering when the wind catches just right on your clit, pulsing and angry and beating with your erratic heart, and Ymir thinks maybe this is her calling instead of terror and horror and the mask. Maybe she’s been put on this earth to bully your sensitive, needy pussy every minute of the day, maybe God looked at her soul and decided that it belonged on top of yours, inside of yours, owning yours the same way she owns your cunt, your body, your mind.
And you don’t even know her fucking name.
It’s a shame really, she’d much rather have you beg for her cock, Ymir’s cock rather than lashing out at whatever name comes into your tiny little brain.
S’mean really, how Ymir threatens to choke you on her cock day in and day out, and doesn’t even have the audacity to tell you her name or show you her face. But what’s really mean, really fucking mean of her is the next time she brings home a pretty innocent church girl to set out in the woods around her cabin; you’re there too, ass up face down and taking her cock like the proper perfect whore you are and Ymir finds they scream so much louder when they can hear you cumming in spurts and sprays through the fog.
Could I request Yandere Nyo!Ukraine basic headcanons?
(C/W:) general Yandere themes, since he’s rather tame... oh, and choking.
Someone like Dmitri? A yandere? You wouldn’t be able to see it coming. To many who meet him, Dmitri is mostly just a warm-hearted man with motherl- fatherly instincts. There’s also the fact that he is usually a very cowardly person, being prone to tears at even the smallest of inconveniences.
So of course, taking these factors into account; absolutely no one would even suspect this man of having a more...dangerous side within him. Rather, most could see him being the victim of someone’s obsession instead.
But yanderes are almost always the more unsuspecting ones, aren’t they? Those that seem like they wouldn’t even hurt a fly because of how much of a sweetheart they are; but wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of hurting someone if you managed to push the right buttons.
That just made their jobs easier, didn’t they?
— meeting you.
It all started with you strolling through an Ukrainian countryside, taking in the beautiful scenery that you got while standing in a specific spot under a tree, the cool air blowing against your skin.
You didn’t know how you found yourself to be here...previously having gone through the woods to try and find your friend’s cabin, but embarrassingly getting lost after chasing a cute squirrel; but you didn’t really regret it right now. Having found this breath-taking view, and coming across this calming field that would eventually become the place where you first met Dmitri at.
Said man had just finished planting the last few of his seeds, and was about to go back to his house before stopping, his eyes laying themselves upon your breath taking body.
You looked absolutely divine.
He didn’t know what to say— nor to do, so all he could do was simply stare at you for god knows how long before you turned back, spotting the dazed man and waving at him
Oh no! Oh god! You had noticed him!
Dmitri would nervously wave back, probably too fast than what was considered normal; and so his face flushed in embarrassment before he nervously tucked his arm away. You smiled, either due to amusement or...something else that he wasn’t able to tell, before you started walking over to him!
You introduced yourself, giving the man a greeting and even reaching to shake his hand! It took a minute or two before he got out of his trace, quickly introducing himself and shaking your hand more firmly than intended, gaining a chuckle from you.
— feelings.
During your first meeting, you had chatted quite a bit and asked him if you were able to come meet him again, quickly gaining an enthusiastic Dmitri shaking his head ‘yes’ while almost jumping in his spot due to happiness. He got to meet you again! You actually wanted to be with him! He felt beyond happy, receiving the opportunity to see the beautiful person that has taken his heart again.
Yes, you heard (or read?) it right. Dmitri was sure he had fallen in love with you! You were simply so divine, so cute! He was sure it was love at first sight, and the man assumed that you felt the same way towards him.
And you truly did. He was just so sweet, polite and had a huge heart! Perhaps a bit of a cry-baby too, but that was adorable to see in such a big man that almost seemed a bit intimidating at first sight. It was cute how he always seemed to be worried about you, especially since your meeting was...basically caused by you getting lost in a forest. Almost at night.
You were lucky that he was there to take you back to his home.
Dmitri was almost like fatherly- no scratch that- fatherly figure to you, preparing food for you every time you came over, taking care of the things that were too difficult for you and always fretting about whether or not you were taking care of yourself well.
It was a pleasure to have you over. He did have a lot of acquaintances due to being a country, though was never really visited due to others either forgetting about him, or being too busy doing their own stuff. Which he understood...but it became lonely in here.
— stalking.
Ukraine isn’t much of a stalker, since he much prefers actually being around you but he does like to keep some of your belongings often without your consent. He actually has a whole drawer dedicated to things that belong to you— which is safely locked in his room, only for himself too.
Most of these include clothes, and smaller items that you normally wouldn’t notice being gone at first glance; pens, merchandise from your favorite series, perhaps even a shirt or two. Dmitri might even snatch more...inappropriate things, if he gets the chance to.
Coughes— personal items such as bras, panties and questionable CDs/magazines you might own, or some other...interesting stuff. He knows that you’ll never suspect him; seeing that he usually expresses himself to be the more innocent type, while being very far from it. You’ll be too embarrassed to ask him about it, and would merely brush it off as you losing it somewhere in your home.
He would make sure to treat them with great care! And by that he means basically worshiping your items everyday, holding them close to his chest and whispering his admirations towards you. His fingers gently tracing over the object while doing so.
As stated before...Ukraine isn’t much of a stalker, so he just makes sure to observe you intensely while you talk with someone else in his presence. He’ll make himself discreet, and you’ll probably think that he’s still doing something else instead of digging holes with the stranger you were talking to.
Making a move on you is a big no-no, so the Ukrainian will make sure to make up a quick excuse as to why the two of you have to go if they even dare to hit on you- or say something else inappropriate, and cuts off the conversation while walking away with you in his hands. Apologizing to the person while doing so.
"Oh...(y/n), I want to go check something really quick, can you come with me?"
— killing for his darling?
No, nope, немає.
It wasn’t that Dmitri...didn’t want to, lord, he would do anything for his darling if it meant protecting them from something that may harm their relationship, it was just that— he hated the sight of blood and corpses in general. It made him nauseous, and reminded him of everything he and his siblings had to endure in their younger years.
Dmitri hated himself for it. Dmitri hated himself for how cowardly he was.
He used to be a rather violent man as a child, having to protect his family and himself from the many, many dangers that were thrown at them when they were no more than small, clueless countries. So why couldn’t he do it now? What was stopping him? Why did he change?
The only way I could truly see him potentially killing someone is if they were to harm you, or even if they managed to gain your heart instead of himself. He wouldn’t know what came over him— his body would move by itself, and the next thing he knew his hands were tightly wrapped around their neck...the person limp, and not reacting.
Dmitri wouldn’t know what to do, he wouldn’t know how he even did it in the first place— thus, will most likely end up calling his youngest brother for help. Nikolai was used to things like this, right? So he could help, right?
So do refrain from telling him anyone you might be interested in. It might...not really end well.
— kidnapping?
Dmitri didn’t plan on kidnapping you at all... he first wanted to make sure that your relationship with him grew a bit, and that perhaps you would accept being with him forever! But after the events from before, Nikolai insisted on helping his brother. Thus, ended up coming back home one day with an unconscious you in his arms, your limbs bound together by rope and fabric covering your mouth.
Needles to say, seeing that had basically traumatized Dmitri— and he nearly fainted. The Ukrainian was partially grateful, yes, but this wasn’t how he wanted it to go. And who knew what Nikolai could have said or done to you?!
It would take some time for him to fully recover from the shock. Seeing you in that state upset him a lot, and he hated having to chain you up in his room... but his younger sibling insisted on doing it; saying that you would try to escape, or could potentially harm them if they were caught off guard.
But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you?
Dmitri would make sure to treat you with the upmost care during your stay. Giving you three meals a day, making sure you were well rested and clean, etcetera etcetera.It would be hard to start hating him even though he was basically holding you captive. He treated you with such care, that it almost felt like he was scared of breaking you if he did things too roughly. Which may very well be true.
He hates it whenever you ask him to go back home. It breaks his heart, knowing how much you want to get away. Was it something he did? Perhaps you didn’t like him anymore? Didn’t you want to be with him anymore? All these overlapping thoughts would most likely cause a nervous breakdown. He would cling onto you while tearfully sobbing about how much he loves you, and how much he cares about you and how much he worries about you potentially ally getting hurt without him being by your side. You would probably the only one who would manage to calm him down, if that were to happen.
— punishments?
Surprise surprise, his punishments are awfully motherly as well.
It almost felt like he was an actual parent...
Dmitri wasn’t fond of punishing you, but if you were going against him then what else was there to do? He had to discipline you in some way, since it would be rather unpleasant if you kept this up. It was a bit like tough love, wasn’t it?
Spanking would be one of his most used, and frankly his favorite— punishment to use. He chooses this when you disobey him and act like a child. (if you were going to act like one then he was going to treat you as such, he usually says.) this may lead to sex, depending on his mood.
Locking you up. Dmitri doesn’t like using this one as much...he hates being apart from you, and he could only imagine how much you’d miss him! But it was for the better. He prefers this method when you try escaping.
— nsfw.
Dmitri would preferably like to marry you before engaging in any sexual intercourse. However, there might be these moments where he would snap (like he did when killing someone) and simply wouldn’t care anymore, taking you right then and there without a care in the world. He can get a bit rough, so don’t be surprised when you can’t walk for the next few da—
Spanking. He loves seeing the cute reactions you make once receiving the impact on your body. The cute whines, the way your hips would twitch and how red your rear would get. He loved it all.
Daddy kink. He’s rather embarrassed by this one...but he can’t deny the fact that you calling him ‘daddy’ always manages to make him feel warm inside; uncaring if it’s meant to be sexual, or not.
Breeding kink. Is this one actually a surprise? Dmitri would absolutely want to have a family with you, no matter how much he’d have to wait for it.
Cream pie. Mostly due to my previous statement, and the fact that he just loves to so you filled with his love...
After care. This is an absolute REQUIREMENT after having sex with you. He will pamper you with love and kisses, giving water and pain meds if needed too. Dmitri will spoon you in his arms and make sure that you trust him and feel safe enough around him.
— overal,
Dmitri can be an okay yandere...if you watch what you’re doing, and play your cards right. Please don’t upset him too much, and make sure not to anger one of his siblings— since that might very well cause even more problems for you.
i have been watching fate/zero after finishing stay night, and i have been having thoughts abt gilgamesh helping kirei awaken his sadism further lmao, so have a small messy ramble abt it.
notes: noncon, biting, choking, heavily implied character (reader) death. not a fun time for reader, essentially
gilgamesh plucking you, the first somewhat attractive person he can find wandering the streets at night, and taking you to the church’s basement. he hits you over the head hard enough to make you pass out instantly, and you most definitely have a concussion, but he really doesn’t care. where you’re going, you won’t have much use for your brains, after all. (what little capacity of though they might have had would likely not have been much use, regardless. to walk around, all alone, during a chain of disappearances and killing is plain stupid.)
you later wake up in a dark, cold, and dusty room with a splitting headache and blurry vision. your ears are ringing. though your brain is still struggling to catch up with the situation, you instinctively know that something is very, very wrong. you’re sprawled out on the floor in front of a man in dark clothes, with a golden cross dangling from his neck. as soon as you look up into his eyes, however, you know that this man of god cannot be your saviour.
there is nothing that feels for you in them. he looks at your crumpled, shaking form like you are merely a stranger passing him on the street, forgotten within a glance. there is no concern, or pity, or even disgust- there is nothing.
king of heroes, the general populace is not supposed to be involved in the war. the man in front of you says.
this has nothing to do with the holy grail, a voice comes from behind you. but if you never want them to speak of this again, you simply have to kill them.
his eyes lower to look upon you. ...moreover, as a man of god, i cannot kill someone who pleads for their life.
your heart skips a beat. you open your mouth, and p- something hard and heavy and distinctly metal hits the back of your head, and then rests on your back. the world is spinning, and you’re desperately heaving in breaths, but unable to breathe.
well? you didn’t hear them beg, did you?
the headache throbbing through your skull, and when you regain your consciousness, something is lodged firmly down your throat. no matter how much you gag and how much your throat spasms, it only leaves temporarily to be thrust back inside as far as his cock can go.
you scratch and claw at the nearest body part you can reach, but this only makes him groan. the stranger’s own hands wrap around your throat while he’s still fucking you, squeezing it shut as if to make your insides even tighter. your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of your skull, and foam forms at the corners of your mouth.
you look up at the man hunched over you, holding your life in his hands, and he smiles down at you.
Aw man I got excited there for a sec and thought Reader was gonna choke Volo :(
you can have that too anon cuz i’m a whore for this kinda stuff <333 an worshipper!volo my beloved !! (as for regular volo... just get him to try it and he’ll enjoy it 👁️)
notes: choking, religious themes
Volo tells you that you may do to him whatever you wish, and none of his words have ever held more truth.
There is nothing that makes him happier than putting his life in your hands. For you to judge, to deem him worthy of another day of living. (He is, in his hubris, already certain of what your judgement will be. No doubt it shall be a reward for his dedication.) Volo kneels in front of you. Your palm is cold against the flushed skin of his throat, and while he knows he should be taking in air while he can, he holds his breath in anticipation. He shudders as your nails graze his flesh. His lips are stretched into a wide smile, cock straining against his pants. At least he has the mind to fold his hands over his erection.
If you tell him he looks too excited, he won’t deny it.
The tighter you squeeze, the happier he is. (After this, he’ll wear the bruises with pride.) Volo feels empty in his head and body, like he’s ascending, liquid pleasure flowing through his veins... He tries not to struggle. Tries to sit as still as possible for his beloved deity, but his body moves on instinct alone– He pulls backward, twitches and shakes, his mouth hanging open. Volo desperately gasps for air, tongue curled and pointing up in his mouth, drool leaking past his lips. Black dots start to litter his vision and you’re taking him to heaven, he thinks, it’ll be the greatest honour. He’s floating. His eyes start to roll backward as he’s on the verge of passing out. With the garbled cry of a man choking on his own spit, he cums in his pants entirely untouched.
You let him go and he collapses at your feet, greedily swallowing gulps of air. “Th- Tha- Th-” He tries to thank you as soon as he can. But Volo is still dizzy and panting for air, and he can’t get his tongue to form the worlds. He’s ashamed of himself. Regardless, he pushes himself up on trembling arms, almost falling flat on his face, and presses his face against your leg instead.
It irks so me much when wlw content doesn’t get the recognition it deserves like you’ll scream and cry over Bakugo spitting on your pussy and fucking you till your eyes into the back of your skull - but if Mina does exactly the same thing with her fat strapon, there is radio silence?
Or if Atsumu buys you an anklet with his initial on and eats you out with your legs over your shoulders; it’ll get 200 notes in a day - but if Saeko does the same then it’ll get 8 notes in a week?
Or if Jean chokes you with his big hand and tells you to be a good girl, people are constantly talking about it and ‘icymi’ - but if Hange squeezes your throat and thumbs over your bottom lip, no one bats a fucking eye?
Give wlw content the recognition it fucking deserves
"oh to have mean isabela treat you like her mutt... just a stupid, useless dog 😭"
soo uhm 😳😳 are you going to write this or 😳😳
<333 notes: petplay, humiliation, choking
“Dogs don’t speak, do they?”
There’s a warning in her voice, for daring to ask her to loosen the vine around your neck. It’s thick and heavy. Isabela holds the other end of it in her hand, tugging on it when you offer no response whatsoever. Though choking you with it might be more accurate. Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of your head, tongue resting on your parted lips as you gasp for air. You squeeze out a whimper. To escape the sensation, you scratch your nails on the floor and move your knees back and forth. You’d have scraped them on the tiles if the entire floor of her room wasn’t covered in flowers. They’re crushed, bleeding pollen underneath you.
Isabela allows you to breathe again, and your head slumps down while you pant. She hums, out of your sight. “That’s a better look on you. I’m sorry for overestimating you... I thought you would’ve known not to use your human words.” The tone of her voice is saccharine. Her hand pets your head, perfect nails scratching at your scalp. It’s such a sudden shift it leaves you reeling.
“You should know better than tell me what to do. What are you even good for around here, hm? You always have such an empty look in your eyes... Really, it must be easier for you to live as a pet.”
