Little Introduction: Howdy! My names Vinny, 19 trans/bi, neurodivergent with a dab of major anxiety, he/him. I was neglected and now fill that void with yandere fanfic lol. In all seriousness its amazing getting to interact/befriend those with so many similar interests, i hope y’all continue to participate in this blog as long as its running.
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TW: non-con (literally saying no), drugging, 2 big men taking turns. Portrayal of trauma/ PTSD, light bondage (cuffs), knife play mentioned, coercion under intoxication, portrayals and immersion of being high, portrayals and immersion of dissociation, physical restraint, hand on neck without explicitly choking (control tactic), Dead Dove. Do Not Eat.
Author’s note: I know it doesn’t make sense to call him a friend then allow most of the things he does, but it’s Agapito, and he will take what he wants so it’s better to give him something to hold him over.
Thursday: Sugar daddy night at 6 pm. Of course classes ran late meaning Agapito is fussy; he's always fussy so I guess he's not fussy but, himself? Anyway, I arrive at his house and open the garage door with the button he gave me. I step inside then take my jacket off as he's finishing up dinner. The sun has just set, the last drops of light illuminate the horizon, the street lights came on about 30 minutes ago.
"6:18.” 18 minutes late, a violation of the contract but I couldn't help it. Class ran late so I rushed to get here, my pulse is still elevated from my own driving.
Dinner smells amazing but it sours inside my head; maybe I just went too long without eating and it's making me nauseous. The curtains for all the windows and back door have been drawn. The lighting is warm, romantic. The kitchen is just a little too hot for a jacket,
"I texted you as soon as I could that I would be late and sent you an ETA" I defend myself with the fine print. Technically, the contract isn’t official but he wants to pretend it is, especially when it benefits him or his motives. Sometimes I let him.
"Hmm,” a beat, “Come here." He hasn't looked at me yet, which is, odd. I take my time approaching him, cautious of his body language while over analyzing. His shoulders aren’t tense, jaw doesn’t look clenched but something primal feels off.
"Is something wrong?" I ask, not liking the atmosphere he's created. Agapito leaves the stove and approaches me almost nonchalant in his gait. I don't want to believe something is wrong but I’m always paranoid that he's changed his mind about me. But he would never. Right? Right, yeah, of course, he would never. I’m always paranoid.
He gently snakes his hand around the side of my neck and leads me into him. Our chests press against each other as he prompts me to look up at him with his thumb. He looks down at me without lowering his head, gaze conducted down his nose. I don't like admitting to myself how attractive he is like this. His body is solid, warm, comforting. I can read his expression as satisfaction above all, practiced suppression tries to hide it but he loosens around me.
"You're late,” he remarks, “You kept me waiting, Angel.."
"I know, Papi. I'm sorry, but I did what I could." I know how to work him and use it to my advantage sparingly. He finally looks down at me to pull me in for a kiss. I can feel the hunger but something sharper; it feels almost restrained. I reach my arms up and over his shoulders, pressing against him a little more as a test. I can feel more tension in his shoulders to upper back than normal. I know he won't address it but I still keep it on the front of my mind. His arms travel to wrap around my waist while a kiss is placed on my forehead.
"Go set the table." he whispers against my skin then we gently withdraw from each other. I grab two plates from the cabinet beside the stove and head to the dining room. Steak for dinner? A little fancy but I won’t object.
"Three." cuts through the air to which I turn back to the source.
I question "Three?" Agapito responds by nodding his head to motion behind me.
I jump before I register who was standing in the living room. Jamari has gotten up from the couch and is half sitting, half standing on the arm that faces the dining room. “Oh hey.” I say out of reflex.
“Hey.” his voice travels cleanly through the rooms and into my ears. He accents it with a casual hand wave, more like a wrist flick. I notice the living room is also dimmer than normal. Are the windows blacked out there too? Also, why is Jamari here? Not that I mind. I chose to leave my questions unanswered in the name of politeness. I’m sure it will make sense later.
“Three plates it is.” I say with polite cheer to Jamari. I turn to walk back to the kitchen for the third plate while tossing a “How have you been?” over my shoulder.
Jamari meanders to the dining room table and leans on the back of the seat. Arms crossed over the back as he comments on a few mundane things. The information feels hollow but he’s a more private person so I forget to remember about asking for details. I set the plates down, putting a plate in front of the chair Jamari is relying on. He shifts his weight to face me slightly then looks down at me. He loves to comment on the distance between us, calling me an ‘ankle biter.’ It feels more forced this time. I swear something is wrong, or at least happening. I tell myself im being paranoid and that it’ll make sense later.
He returns the question, “How are you?”.
I shrug. “The same,” hold his gaze for a moment afterward. He nods in acknowledgement as I head back to the kitchen. Setting out the silverware, napkins, and the spices Agapito approves of being within reach.
‘I didn’t make this perfect for you to add a pound of salt.’ he has explained before, more like peeved but he did put a lot of work in. I’m forever grateful that he’s willing to put in so much time and skill for a single dinner. Even if it’s a frozen pizza, he has to tamper with it before I’m allowed to taste it.
One time, we got toasted and ordered Taco Bell to be delivered. I raced him to the front door, not very quickly, and accepted the order. He wrapped an arm around my waist from behind to trap me against him then grabbed the bag and. A warning was spoken into my ear, “Angel.” with a tone so firm and deep it rattled my chest. I slowly let go of the bag so it wouldn’t drop. He grabbed a skillet and heated everything up again, adding a little more spice, and only then was I allowed to eat. I wasn’t thrilled.
He was trying to show off.
I was trying to eat.
Dinner is served in the kitchen with a pleased Agapito and hungry Jamari. He made a fancy dinner tonight: steak, baked potatoes, and tiramisu. Of course, Jamari dives for the sweets first. The smells mangle together, coffee with the steak, baked potato and melted cheese sitting between them. I’ve gotten used to it since walking in; thankfully, the nausea has faded.
Agapito holds each side of my waist and gently moves me out of the way from the baked potatoes then takes my plate out of my grasp. I remember who I’m dealing with when I hear, “Go. Sit.” I watch him for a beat, analyzing. He doesn’t look at me, rather, he builds my plate as if it’s his only expression of love. I check him again. Shoulders slightly tense, jaw isn’t clenched. Is he anxious, maybe? But why would he be?
I take measured steps toward the dining room and rack my brain for why the night is shaping up like this. My thoughts fight each other for who can comment the most. I take a breath in through my nose, it feels a little dry. I exhale then feel my shoulders drop a little. But I can’t help but shake the incongruity.
Why the fancy dinner? Why is Jamari here? Why won’t he look at me? Why is he insisting on fixing my plate today? I notice the imprint of my fingernails on my palm as I grab my normal seat, able to watch the kitchen and front door.
I pull my chair out as quietly as possible and within a minute or so, my plate is set in front of me, practically overflowing. He’s always taken pride in feeding me. Being everything short of demanding that I take second helpings.
“Go ahead and start eating, Angel.” then my head is gently pulled to the side and a kiss placed on top of it. He takes a moment afterward and just stays there. I assume he’s smelling my hair, which is not the weirdest thing he’s done. I honestly find it sweet.
I close my eyes to savor the moment. I don’t know what for but the kiss feels like a warning, not one I can place. I tell myself I'm paranoid while taking a second breath.
I’m being dramatic. I’m being so god damned dramatic. It’s just a kiss, it’s just a pause. I’ve been stressed with exams and haven’t eaten much today or slept well in days. It’s fine. I’m fine.
Jamari brings me a drink after Agapito returns to the kitchen, espresso martini. Most likely for after dinner to compliment the tiramisu. I thank him as he smiles down at me with a hand on the back of my chair with the other withdrawing to his side.
I disobey his orders by waiting for them to sit down and take the first bite. A display of respect that I want to keep sharp. I cut out a bite of steak. Fucking incredible.
My jaw slows to the point it almost freezes. My eyes shut as I chew slowly and nod my head a couple times. The meat is tender but not like a roast, it’s buttery layered with rosemary and a little paprika. I think he cooked in a thin layer of A1 sauce because it’s quite savory. I open my eyes and look at Agapito to remark how good the steak is. He’s looking at me. We lock eyes.
I smile at him, “Thank you.” He nods, “Welcome.” Curt. We just looked at each other for a moment, that normal warmth was gone, replaces with something more calculated. Because Jamari is here? Or he’s tired? It’s probably nothing. Paranoid.
I go back to eating, the normal chit-chatting about recent events and the plan for the evening. I keep quiet, studying them both but chiming in every once in a while to avoid suspicion. Their answers are curt, straight to the point. I almost fear they’ll run out of things to talk about and the attention will turn to me. Three-way conversations are always more stressful because I’m trying to split eye contact evenly.
The normal dinner with Agapito feels more akin to an interrogation. I try to ask questions back in good faith but they’re dodged or given a half answer before quickly flipped back to me.
I sip on the espresso martini Agapito prepared. It’s a little strong but I shoot whiskey with no chaser so I genuinely don’t mind. I also thanked him for the drink and bragged to Jamari how good it was, offering a refused sip. Agapito made his usual comment, “There you go.” We all chuckled at his joke then I proposed a dramatic toast,
“To good food and better friends.” Clink. Then another, clink. I watched them be less enthusiastic at my message. The toast seemed to remind them I was there and I received a barrage of questions about my life. My grades, my research, my other friends, my grandma, my workout routine, my future tattoo, my piercings, even what I’m learning in my classes; but, only one topic remained untouched.
We finish our food, empty plates and glasses. I ask Agapito for another drink to which he prioritized getting for me. Jamari and I stood up then started clearing the table. I gathered my things with Agapito’s plate but was interrupted. Jamari took my plate stacked with silverware from my hands and advised me to go pick a show or movie for us to watch. I look at him insistent on helping, “I got it, it’s ok.”
Jamari rebuttaled with a flattened tone “You set everything up. It’s only fair that I put it away.” He gently pulled on the dish again, I let it slip out of my hands with a contemptuous smile. He got irritated quicker than I expected or is normal, even for him. I stand there for a moment, watching him leave while Agapito enters.
Slipping behind me, his fingertips trailing across to my lower back as he fills my glass again. I thank him softly then pick it up then carefully carry the drink to the couch. I set it on the coffee table next to the remote and across from the candle. I pick up the remote then flip through the streaming services as I take side steps over to the side table. I pick a platform and open the drawer to remove the electric candle lighter. Ending with finding a random movie that I heard about and seems to be popular.
I set the remote back down then light the three wick candle I bought Agapito a while back, Teakwood from Bath & Body Works. By the looks of it, he’ll need another one soon. I put the lighter back and pick up the martini again. My thoughts catch back up to me and I can’t settle. My shoulders tense
My usual position on the couch is facing toward the dining room with my inner leg out stretched and the outer one hanging off the couch with my foot on the ground. Sipping isn’t the right word, rather, I drank the martini in a couple ‘sips’. I get up to take it to the kitchen sink. Agapito and Jamari are standing in the kitchen, very quietly talking to each other. They abruptly stop and look at me when I reach the doorway.
I freeze mid-step, ‘The tension’ my intuition whispers. The tension? I glance down at my glass. Paranoid. It suddenly feels heavier in my hands. I’m paranoid. It tasted normal? I don’t know what an espresso martini is supposed to taste like. Paranoid.
“Everything ok?” I look to Agapito. He looks past me to the living room. Then he looks at me. The moment passes faster than I can blink then he seems to snap into character.
“There’s my boy.” he smiles and tracks toward me. ‘Bullshit’ it whispers again, almost hissing. Paranoid.
He laces his fingers through mine and takes the glass from my hand. A kiss pressed to my forehead again. He tries to reassure me that everything is ok. “Jamari and I are just talking. You found something to watch?”
Jamari leads to the living room, a polite “ ‘xcuse me” as he passes Agapito. They lock eyes briefly as they pass. My stomach has settled but this doesn’t sit right in my gut. My fingernails return to my palm as I’m led to turn in Jamari’s direction by my wrist. I look at Agapito and he’s watching me the entire time. It feels more like close distance stalking than a casual interaction where two people make eye contact.
We all land in the living room, assuming our positions on the couch. Agapito sits across from me in a similar position; he grabs my ankle and moves it to his inside thigh where he can hold it better. I pull it out of his grasp then keep my knee bent enough so he can’t reach without sitting up. Jamari stretches out on the other couch. Well, the best his 6’1 frame will let him. Jamari reaches behind himself to turn off the lamp in the living room leaving only the candle and the TV providing us light. The darkness feels- paranoid. I take another breath. I’m finally starting to relax. My anxiety has caused me to be shaky for the past few days, it’s nice to feel the top layer of tension leave my muscles.
We settle into the couch and I feel the alcohol start to take effect after the movie’s intro. i embrace the warmth slipping through my veins as my head get fuzzier. Minutes pass and I can feel the effects slowly creep in from the slower thoughts to the relaxation to the warmth. But there’s other things too, things that don’t add up. I chock it up to dehydration and decide to use the restroom during a lull in the plot.
I get up only to stumble a little bit. Agapito jumps up to grab me and keep me steady, “Woah there baby boy” he whispers. His grip is firm on my shoulders while he intently looks at me. My shirt feels like static around his touch. I ate and had water when drinking, it shouldn’t be hitting me this hard, this soon. This isn’t just being drunk. I grab his forearms, near the elbow, and get my footing while commenting that I’m going to the bathroom around the corner. I meet his eye and find the warmth that was missing during dinner. He’s looking at me, really looking at me. I smile at him for the second time tonight - he smiles back. I chuckle at myself for being clumsy.
I get myself to the bathroom, the familiar shakiness is back but feels different. Paranoid. It’s fine. I use the toilet then get up to wash my hands. I feel off balance while standing then dizzy when turning to flush. I have to grab the back of the toilet from rocking forward too much. This isn’t just being drunk.
I wash my hands, they look fuzzy, outlined in static. My eyes are dry causing me to blink hard. Paranoid. I look in the mirror. My eyes are red. Bloodshot. Wrong. This isn’t just being drunk. Not paranoid. I shake my head to test my theory and have to reflexively grab the sink so I don’t fall. Not paranoid. How much was I given? Can I run? No. No, not like this i can’t. Breathe. I can still breathe. My nose is so dry. Not paranoid. I wash my hands and try to ground myself in the cold water running over them. But it hurts. The force from the water feels like needles pricking my skin. After quickly removing my hands, I dry them in the softest towel I can find.
I remember ‘Tension’. I remember ‘Bullshit’. He wasn’t looking at me. And when he did. My thoughts are ragged and heavy. What’s their plan? Not paranoid. I lock the bathroom door. My mouth has run dry. I don’t know exactly how long I have in here but I know I don’t have long. Plan? I think they gave me THC but I can’t know for sure. Is it safe with my meds? What was the dose? That second martini. Was it stronger? Is that why he was so eager? Why would he do this? I want to be paranoid.
My eyes tear up. I can’t out run them. I don’t think I can outsmart them like this. I quickly come to terms with a lot of endings, most of them unsavory. I pull out my phone and send out a few check-ins with where I am and an ‘I love you’ to a few people. I choke a sob and force a calm that I don’t have in me. Breathe. Not paranoid. I need a plan.
I unlock the bathroom, deep breathing. Everything is too much while so detached. I walk out of the bathroom then take slow and steady steps to end up standing in the entrance of the living room. My back to the front door, just in case. I pause. Is it locked? It’s too late to check. Breathe. I can’t run.
Jamari is waiting for me on the other side of the door. I jump at his presence again, adrenaline cuts a narrow line through the blur. He offers me a water and asks if I’m ok as soon as I start falling back into the haze. I’m still standing in the doorway of the bathroom, he’s a handful of steps away. His extended arm is too far for me to reach without leaving safety. Is that deliberate? I take a cautious step out, watching him, a hand still on the doorframe. I reach out and try to grab the water without touching him. He tilts his wrist to point the top toward me.
I open the water and feel the cap separate from the ring. Safe. I take a few quick sips and thank him for the water. He watches me with a soft expression. Jamari has always held a warmth that Agapito struggles with. Closer to compassion than possession.
“Thought you would want it,” his voice is barely above a whisper with a soft undertone but the depth makes it feel loud against my ear drums.
“Thank you,” I nod, trying to mask the discomfort of this juxtaposition. He motions back to the living room. I try to motion for him to go first, insisting. He does after losing a rock-paper-scissors battle. A typical decision tie breaker for us; I won this time. I watch him go back to the couch and lay down while I stay at the living room entrance.
“So,” my voice comes out steadier than I thought possible in this state, “what’s your plan?” Agapito doesn’t look at me until the last part. His head snaps around. My heart pounds against my chest and almost knocks me off balance while I can hear my breath in my ears, like there’s a bubble. Jamari keeps watching the TV like nothing is wrong but I know he heard me too. Am I paranoid? Is nothing wrong. Breathe.
“What?” he questions. I know he’s asking me what I mean and not what I said. Maybe I’m paranoid. Breathe. I’m being paranoid. I need to breathe. My nose is so dry. It’s hard to breathe. My tongue sticks to the rest of my mouth while I gather my words. My thoughts are so heavy. “Angel.” Agapito calls out to get my attention.
“I- um, I need to go home.” I lie while shifting my weight between my unreliable legs, “i forgot an assignment.” Will this be enough?
“It’s worth 10% of my grade.” he probably doesn’t care. He gets up and slowly walks toward me. It feels like a predator stalking his prey. I take a step back; I’m sure I took a little frightened because he takes a breath. I need to breathe. Assignment.
“I’m so sorry,” I start rambling “I can’t miss the deadline.”
He tries to stand close to me but I take another step back. A step closer to the door. Is it locked? It’s too late to check. Assignment. My legs are shaking. Breathe. His tone changes, closer to one I’ve heard him use on people who listened a little too intently and worked a little too quickly. He instructs me while reaching for my arm, “Your professor can wait.” I don’t feel his hand; I don’t feel how tight his grip is right above my elbow; I don’t feel how it almost hurts. I feel the leash getting tighter. I can’t run. Assignment. Breathe.
“I’ve already asked for an extension,” I try so hard to get out of this but it was a losing game since he first laid eyes on me, “I can’t ask for another one, I’ll seem lazy.” He doesn’t care. Breathe. He rolls his eyes then huffs, seeming both amused and irritated.
“You’re too drunk to do anything. Look at you. Come and let me take care of you.” His voice is smoother. It sounds so nice to just relax. But not here, not now, not with two predators waiting for me. My heart is pounding but my limbs fail me. He leads me to the couch, I try to subtly get out of his grip. It didn’t work.
“Why don’t you lay against my chest, hmm?” he snakes a hand into my hair and my knees fail me. His touch lights up my nerves in ways I didn’t want but had no choice but to feel. I hate to admit it, but it feels so good that it hurts. Thankfully, maybe, Agapito catches me and they both laugh. Yeah, it’s so fucking funny to drug someone and make them collapse. Haha.
“C’mere” he guides me to lay down but I just look at him from beside the couch. He pats his chest and places a hand on my outer hip. Assignment. I’m not paranoid. I know what high feels like. I look back to the front door. I take a step back and out of his grip. I almost trip on the coffee table. The candle looks at me, mocking me of the courage I don’t have. The three of us, the two flames, one burnt out. I try to blink the dryness out of my eyes and snap out of it.
“No, I really should go. The professor will be mad at me.” I say as I head to the door. Agapito and Jamari are quickly after me. Agapito gets to me first and catches my waist, anchoring me against him. Jamari stays a step behind him, watching, confirming.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to sooth me with a tone that falls just short of his goal, “Angel, baby boy. You’re too drunk to leave.” He moves a hand up to my neck so I’m pinned to him from just under my chest and by my neck. I can’t breathe. My nose is so dry. I’m not paranoid. I need to complete my assignment. Why can’t I breathe. I need to breathe. I pull on the hand around my neck but I know it’s futile. I can feel how weak I am from the sedatives. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t help.
I can see the front door. I can see my escape, just out of reach. Is it locked? Do I still have a chance?
I see Jamari from the corner of my eye. I try to turn to him. Maybe if I look scared enough, he’ll help me. As if on cue, he moves to the front door and makes sure it’s locked. I feel the deadbolt click into place as it rings in my ears like a gun shot. I almost forgot his loyalty does not lie with me. It was never mine, but Agapito’s. As if on cue, i almost collapse again, whatever was left from the fight vanished like smoke. But I’m not paranoid, right? I don’t have a reason to escape.
Right?
The next thing I know, I’m on Agapito’s chest. My forehead is against his neck and my arms are folded so my hands lay on his shoulders. He feels so warm and comfortable. My head is swimming. His hand moves over my back in slow passes. His body holding me between him and the couch like he can hold me together by force of habit alone. I can breathe again, but it’s shallow and measured. He smells like cigarettes and patchouli. He places the other hand into my hair and my scalp tingles. I groan at the sensation and try to fight it off. I drift back into the haze.
I woke to end credits and Agapito softly rustling me. “Hey, let’s go to bed.” He coaxes, but I only groan in response without moving. ‘Bullshit’ it whispers again. No. No, wait. I- my thoughts- heavy. Why? What is-
I remember the slow pull of a walk to the bedroom: through the house, up the stairs. I remember his hand pushing me. Guiding me? I don’t know. I remember Jamari cleaning up the living room before I hear his footsteps at the bottom of the stairs. Is he coming with us? Where is he going?
Back across the house and through the fancy double doors waits the master bedroom. Agapito keeps hold of me, lovingly correcting every time I drift wrong. It smells like an unpolished version of him. An undertone of fresh cotton wafts from the closet trying to cover the drug smell. I’ve been in his bedroom before but it feels different now. A tug at my waist brings me the rest of the way into his room. The door closes behind me.
I turn and get myself out and away from his grip. My eyes dart around while I try to form a segmented suggestion, “I can, sleep in the guest bedroom.” I suggest while trying to side step around him, staying out of arms reach. He steps between me and the door, “that won’t be necessary.” His demeanor is sure but also amused. Like it’s entertaining that I’m trying to get away. The drug smell turns rancid, like strong acid, it burns in my nose. I need to run. Breathe.
Jamari enters the bedroom and shuts the door behind him. I watch him closely, out of fear, paying particular attention to his hands. I don’t hear or see the door lock. Everything is fuzzy, I don’t trust my senses anymore. Did he just do it so slowly I didn’t notice? My attention remains on him for a moment too long for Agapito’s tastes.
A 5’11 man is in front of me, grabbing my throat. I can’t run. My throat is so dry. Can I run? I’m not paranoid. My attention snaps back to him. By the twitch of confusion on his face, I can tell I look terrified, because I am. I can hear his breath in my ears as I look at him, studying his face, trying to find how I’ll survive this.
He coos at me in a quiet, soft voice, “you’re ok Angel, you’re safe here.” ‘Bullshit’ it yells. Body fight back. He places a hand firmly on my waist and pulls me toward the bed. I feel a third hand above my waist on the opposite side. I look toward who it was coming from and find Jamari. He tries to comfort me by rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. If it’s going to happen, why would he be here? An accomplice? Assignment. I can’t breathe. Body fight back.
I start pulling the hands off me as we reach the stairs that leads to the bed. I stand as firm as I can “I can get myself to bed.” I state.
I know I have to convince them to let me go. Running isn’t an option. Fighting isn’t an option. They look at each other. ‘Tension’ it says again. What does ‘tension’ mean? I feel like I’m fighting off a bad acid trip. My head is spinning but there’s a tunnel of clarity between us. The high is hitting me again like an unwelcome comeback that sours the original. Jamari approaches me.
Next I’m on the bed. My pants are gone. It’s just my boxers and my pushed up shirt. Hands. Body fight back. I slur out a, “No” and push the hands away. My eyes shut again as I’m meet with a barrage of ‘It’s ok’ and ‘just relax’ followed by a pouring of praise. The words are spinning around me and I can’t grab any of them. I feel like I’m listening to a different language. But, I understand everything deeply. Every word nestles into my brain, closer to my being than anything. Hands. So many hands. Gentle, it hurts. Body fight back.
I feel the penetration but my head is pressed into something from behind. I hear the other person’s appreciation for something they were never given. My hands are cuffed behind my back. Hands. Only 2 hands. I can’t breathe. Body forgive me.
My body betrays me, every hilt is wetter than the last. I can hear it. It’s grotesque and I want to puke. Everything is spinning. Nothing makes sense. Why? If I could think clearly, I would sob. I would plead. I would do anything but lay here. I can feel myself stretch around what ever is inside me. I can feel the base. I can feel the hair and the contact of his hips against mine. I can feel it all but it’s so fuzzy. Swimming in static; everything stings; everything hurts.
It only gets more possessive, more demanding, more larceny. There’s an odd layer of fragility around his actions. Pressed into something but not suffocated. Cuffed but not too tight. Held but not gripped. Burglary but not battered. The hand on the back of my head is removed and placed on my other hip. I could look back. I could see what’s happening or who. I don’t. I know. I don’t need to. Body forgive me.
Then it stops.
This is an opportunity to lay all the way down on my stomach, roll over, and sit up. Only to find Agapito approaching me. Naked. Sweaty. Excited.
He approaches the side of the bed I’m on. Slips his hand around my neck but only his finger tips make tender contact. His knuckles lovingly push my chin up to look at him. He looks taller than I remember. I don’t have the resolve to sit up and seem composed. “Please don’t do this,” a plea just above a whisper, voice hoarse, “you don’t have to do this.” I want to fall into the mattress and clip through the floor. I’ll take the fall over falling into their hands again.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” it sounds sickly sweet and condescending, like I just stated something too obvious like it’s novel, “I know.” He bends down and forced a kiss against my lips, “But who else is going to take care of you like this?.”
He grabs something from the bedside table and the lighting catches on the amber glass. The man looks at it while twisting it in his fingers, examining it like it’s a gift. An ampoule. He holds it, about to crack it open.
The glass cracks open. Something inside me cracks with it. My body has stopped fighting, nothing in me moves anymore. Small. Planned. The drug was placed before I arrived. The plan was in motion long before I had a chance to make it out.
“Let me make it easier. It’ll help you forget.” he offers the full ampoule against my lips, trying to softly press them open. Do I want to forget? The hands. The door locking. The couch. The plan.
My mouth opens and eyes look up at him, trying to find closure in what once was. He instructs to lift my tongue where he places the drug in the space it once was. The dose in my mouth tastes sour but the liquid is a welcomed relief. It has the texture of melted butter with none of the charm. I reside in a state where survival is the only thing left. Letting it absorb through the saliva will help it kick in faster. Agapito puts the ampoule back on the headboard, beside something metallic, then smiles at me, like I did the right thing. Everything feels wrong. He takes the base of my neck in his hand and pressed against my collarbone. His other had grabs a knife. The sound of it unfolding sends a ricochet through me. Is this it? Is this my end? I’m not paranoid. He would never, so why is he?
A smile stretches across Agapito’s face. Like he’s enjoying this. Disgust strips through me as I realize his expression. Gratified. He finds gratification in my current state as if he was ever entitled to it.
My back meets the bedsheets with the only safe hands trapped behind me. My body is repositioned to what he wants. I’m kissed from my neck to my jawline, then pressed firmly against my mouth.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
They are willing and happy to kill whoever they need to get their darling, they will only hold back if the murder will greatly hurt their chances or land them on police or rival’s radars but that doesn’t mean that person can stay in their darlings presence. Lots of glaring, short words, arms crossed. Will use himself to physically separate his darling from any perceived threat. Would not even let a child in the hitting stage near his Angel. Sees himself as the protector of his Angel’s safety and peace, if their fear or negative emotions aren’t under his control it makes him feel like he’s not doing enough or that he could be edged out bc why would this upset you when I’m right here? Do you really care more about that than everything I could ever possibly do and have done for you?
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope
Yes. Haha, yes. Is jealous more often than not but understands he can’t just lock his Angel away forever. He doesn’t want a stay at home spouse with no ambitions or interests but is deeply bothered if anything starts encroaching on his place. School starting up bothers him, a family emergency that lasts longer than a few days will require a deep breath, hyper fixations will need him to the integrated somewhere even if it’s just going shopping for the thing or showing off your progress. Going to work more than 40 hours or 5 days a week? Under his skin, quickly. If work drains his darling and makes them less available to him, wants you to quit or change jobs, like yesterday. God forbid a coworker is toxic and causing the drain. He only allows revealing clothes if there’s many visible hickeys, he’s there, or his partner is wearing his initial or a day collar. Location on, call or FaceTime daily, good morning and good night texts, if you have to rely on anyone for anything he feels threatened and inferior. Very jealous but tries to cope with it himself or make it so you don’t have a chance to make it worse
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
The rules are very clear. If a boundary is crossed he’ll drag his darling back to the correct side and (not aggressively) blatantly state where the line is and to not cross it again. Metaphorically: boundaries is don’t color on the walls, the punishment would be hiding every writing utensils in the house. If a rule keeps getting broken he removes access to the rule. The rules can be questioned and, if lucky, comprised on but they won’t go away. You’re not placating this man into submission. He’ll let the minor rules be tested, finding the playful defiance fun and will just stand there and watch for a second. Then make his presence known and watch his Angel make a very important decision. If he’s in a playful mode, he’ll use intimidation and call his darling over and trace his fingers on their neck talking about “so what’s going to happen now, is you clean that up, and we’re going to talk about this in the living room, ok?” “Good boy, I’ll be waiting” Cocky smile knowing exactly how to the bone chilling. If he’s already having a bad day “Angel I swear to fucking god- Fix. It.” And he’ll stand there glaring at his darling until it’s fixed, that night’s festivities will be a lot rougher since he sees that days rule breaking as justification. If you try to justify it he will grab your wrists and pin them behind your back and just let you struggle against him until you relent. Doesn't want to but can and will end a fight if things try to get physical, he knows his stature and physique but not always his strength
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
He would, he hates that he has to do this, doesn’t stop him, like at all. He knows you hate it and that it’s boring. He hates that he’s constantly on edge that you’ll escape. Actively uses his notes to induce Stockholm syndrome, would struggle to let you back out into the world. Loves that you’re entirely dependent on him but hates all the extra stress and responsibility. Lays the rules down quickly and uses a security system and the dogs to help him. If he has to leave when you have free roaming privileges then Jamari is coming over or you’re going back into the room until he gets back. Has 100% forgotten you were down there when he got way too high, this could be used as leverage to have free roaming privileges. Thought about a dog collar. Deeply looked into a zapping dog collar. Didn’t buy it, just a security system. Jamari is posted outside his house to let you think you can escape. Could very well scare the fucking shit out of him by stepping outside to sunbathe or drink tea. Uses Covid masks and a beanie to let you out in public the first time, grocery shopping and your hand can’t leave the cart. Ever. Not smart enough to make you use the restroom before leaving, or smart enough to plant trackers in his darling’s shoes. The default punishment becomes room time, default reward is something for the room or outside time. He doesn’t like this arrangement in the slightest and just wants you to want him and choose him unequivocally but for now, a little training never hurt anyone, right? Can be manipulated into cooking anything his darling could ask for. Don’t get sick bc an ER is out of the question, you’ll be going to a sketchy clinic where he’s known by name. If it’s a major holiday he’s going all fucking out to make up for the situation and it’s not like you can reject him, right?
Agapito comforting and possibly taking s/o from their shit relationship
it would be amazing if he hadn't already killed the bastard that routinely had you upset to be honest, a true miracle that was definitely influenced by his own angel, so you wont have to worry about your "boyfriend" going off the rails.
Don't get him wrong, Agapito would lead any fucker in his way into a drug induced comatose no hesitation, unfortunately he cant take that route due to caring about your mental health so the long way round is how it has to be
If your current toy wasn't such a terrible partner Agapito would actually have to do some digging. Every so often your stalker pulls up whichever of your accounts hes signed into and seeing that your already are thinking about leaving makes everything so much simpler
Agapito sees the opportunity to show you there's no one else to rely on like him, which isn't particularly hard when that current partner of yours is barely giving the minimum effort you need, and best believe each precious moment of his angel finally admitting to wanting more, wanting better, sends him in orbit. Agapito holds in the excitement in his chest quite well, seeming composed as if the simple sentence "i want to break up with them" while your ranting to him doesn't open the long awaited chance to punt that fucker of yours out of the way.
As long as you give the word Agapito gladly eliminates the competition and claims back his rightful spot besides you, don't worry about whatever stresses you had before Agapito is here now, kissing your forehead and ensuring that you feel genuine love compared to whatever that bastard gave you
Saiki using his powers to make you hear the crude thoughts of others to give you a taste of those he dosent want you to be around
THE RING THAT REMOVES HIS POWERS saiki may love listsning to your thoughts, almost unconsciously able to focus souly on your mindspace.
On the other hand the inablity to read your every action, its the spark of being out of control without worry, especially during more physical and cuddling 💗💗💗
During desperate times kusuo strays from his morals. Promoting you in certain directions in life by subtle telepathy, a simple nudge closer to him is all,,
Remeber one of his powers is SUPER FlEXIBILITY. 👀👀.
Knows statistics on everyone's chance of survival and compatablity!!! Desperate times can call for desperate measures
Says oh wow when he realizes how much he favorites you
CAN CHANGRE LITERAL RULES IN THE WORLD IF HE JUSTS BOPPS OFF HIS HAIR THING
AGAPIMARI WHEN HIS DARLING COMES HOME WITH NEW FACE PIERCINGS THAT REQUIRE THEM TO BE GENTLE
Agapito wants to be the one that pierces your lips, romanticizes the very idea of it. He wants to be the one that numbs and gets his last kiss in before sanitizing and sliding a needle through his angels flesh, being the one to help accessorize you is an honor.
Now if you don't manage to go out and get pierced by an actual professional it's actually Jamari that ends up handling the whole jewelry process, not agapito. Is this grown man grumpy about this? Yes, but it's been agreed that Jamaris steady hand and percussion is safer for their babies lips, that doesn't mean agapito doesn't get his kiss in though.
These two can deal with not kissing you for awhile no problem, they'll worship other sections of your body in the meantime. From your knuckles up to your collarbone and jawline, agapito and Jamari won't stop just because your lips are off limit for a bit.
heyyy im sure you havent done a loki oneshot/headcanons in a while but if u want to do one can you please do loki x goth reader <33
Depending on just the type of goth you tend to dress up as Loki will either make comments that just barely pass as jokes so he doesn't get smacked or will end up feeling seen in a way, if he wasn't already in love with you it definitely helps that he feels allied with you
Loki labels himself a gentleman and your style really does bring out those traits of his more. He doesn't even ask, simply coming right up to you as if it was his appointed duty to lace up any ribbon, tie whatever strings or secure accent chains for his dearest.
Even if/when Loki does end up making some questionable comments about your aesthetic he doesn't waste a second beating down any other that dares to make you feel unwanted. God's forbid some mere human talk to you that way, vile is what they are, Loki will ensure you don't have another instance of that for the rest of your days.
You can decide on everything else I just really want a yandere saiki k with your writing style
You can ignore my ask if you'd like no hard feelings<3
Ty
Hello I would like to start this off by saying Kusuo Saiki is Aromantic and Asexual thank you and/or fight me about it 💗
Saiki is protective for the most part, could be considered a stalker with how much he enjoys listening in on your thoughts and imagination, however with the uncontrollable ability to read the minds of all living creatures in a multiple mile radius could you blame him? They just happens to be the most intriguing to the unfortunately physic Kusuo.
This man isn't anything you'd expect from a love crazed maniac, Saiki may spend most of his daily activities in your company but never has he demanded more time with you nor has anyone been harmed due to what he'd like to call his "preference " toward you. Saiki is one of the most respectful and considerate yanderes you'll ever meet, you think his mom raised him to be any different?
Kusuo may not be the jealous type, doesn't mean he won't take action if a typical man attempts to gain your fancy. He wont hurt them or anything, of course not, instead that rogue man will end up being beyond embarrassed by the end of the day, by seemingly unexplainable forces. If all that goes down doesn't send them running off certainly saiki coming around to collect you does, almost as if that man wasnt there to begin with kusuo simply says a greeting, guiding you back to the daily school tasks he enjoys so much with your company.
Uhhhh, yan Miguel hcs? Anything literally don’t care
Miguel in many ways can be described as a rock, composure always rock solid with his typical monotone voice, other than the spontaneous bursts of anger. That doesn't tend to be the case when you're around and every spider knows it, to a point whenever one of the superheroes needs to confront stone cold Miguel they bring you along to soften the blow. No matter how mad the 2099th Spiderman might be he'll never expose you to his rage, much to the others benefits. Don't get me wrong you can definitely still feel the air get denser, see the muscles in Miguel's jaw tense as he looks over at you before turning on his heel, hands on hips demanding you both leave. He'll deal with the other Spider later on, make sure you're not there to protect them.
Miguel would rather you not interact with the rest of the spidy force as much as you do, why not come over and spend time with him in that computer ridden lair of his? It'll mostly include witty banter between the two of you before your favorite spiderman catches a perfect glance, stopping him in his tracks. If you happen to make eye contact in time you'll see hearts shining over Miguel's pupils above the most serene smile that no one else has the pleasure of receiving
Miguel will disguise the "need" to keep you under his control by claiming how you, spidy person or not, are the only one he trusts in a specific important field, which just happens to mean your paths cross constantly if not stuck in the same room while working. If anyone points it out best believe he's gonna shut them up real quick
