#obsessive whumper
<–Previous ❁ [Masterlist] ❁ (to be continued)
CW: Held hostage, soft obsessed whumper, some comfort and caretaking after collapse
“… Whumpee?
“… I need you awake.”
A faint voice came from directly above them. Their stomach and chest was tight from adrenaline; but they couldn’t remember why they were afraid.
“…Don’t pass out on me again. Come on, up you go.” They heard a grunt, followed by a strong arm leaning them up. Before they could open their eyes, a firm cold glass was pressed to their lips. It tilted, forcing them to swallow a few sips before whumpee snapped their head to the side.
“Stop!” Whumpee barked, wiping spilt water off their cheek. Shivers shot down their spine when they heard whumper take a deep sigh of relief. A single finger followed along their jawline, before a sleeve dabbed against their neck soaking up the last bit of water.
“I’m sorry… You fell unconscious shortly after your fit in the garden. You were a little dehydrated.” Whumper gave a concerned smile. They tried to press the glass back to their lips, but whumpee whimpered and jolted away so hard their head hit the back of the couch.
“Oh, hush, sh shh… You’re okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” Whumper soothed. To whumpee’s dismay, they weren’t angry with them; they only sighed and retreated the glass back to their lap.
Whumpee blinked and nervously glanced around, they had been brought inside and laid on the couch; several pillows stacked under their head with a thin blanket draped over their chest. It was… soft. The whole living room was soft and decorated with light colors and greenery.
In fact, it looked rather lavishing.
“T-take me back… Please, please take me b-back!” Whumpee bursting into tears, clutching the blanket to their chest and fell into hyperventilating breaths. Whumper parted their lips to speak, but whumpee was already inconsolable.
“Wh- whatever you want, just take it! But ple-ase let me g-go! I don’t w-want to be here, I want to go h-home!-”
“Ssshh.”
Their words dissipated the second whumper touched their fingertips to their lip. They hissed another hush, before taking their wrist and pulling them off the couch to their feet.
“I want to show you something.” Whumper smiled, ignoring their pulling resistance as they took their arm. Whumpee was too frightened to speak, too scared to rip themselves away as whumper tugged them up the staircase.
Whumper must have taken their shoes off when they laid them on the couch. Their bare feet sank into the thick white carpet with each hesitant step. At the top of the landing, whumper pushed open a door and excitingly urging whumpee inside, bouncing on their heels impatiently.
Whumpee stood skittishly frozen, hesitantly glancing between their captor and the open door. The only reason they entered was their sheer will to stay as far away from whumper’s hands as they were vigorously shooed in from behind.
It was an open sunny bedroom lined with large windows. Hanging plants draped from the ceiling, a bed in the center with more pillows than they could count. It was light, blissful,beautiful.
“W- what is all this?” Whumpee stammered, the pit in their stomach growing the more they realized just how much whumper planned this.
More specifically, how long they had hunted them.
They flinched when whumper suddenly wrapped their arms around them from behind. They heard a chuckle, followed by a whisper in their ear.
“It’s home, little flower.”
❁ [Masterlist]❁
Taglist: @cicatrix-energy @pretty-little-whump @chaoticdreamers-world @lonesome–hunter @interdimensional-chaos @pretty-writing-things @alliecat5594@xo-sofo4ka
The Same Bed: Krista
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CW: Break-in, threats, beating, stalking and harassment, abusive relationship references
Follows after Jake, happens concurrently with Chris,beforeVincent.
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She’s floating. She’s actually floating. Krista keeps the phone between her ear and her shoulder and she listens to the voice of the woman on the other end, humming to show she’s listening. She is, mostly, but part of her is too lit up with happiness to take in a single word.
She can hear Pepperjack meowing on the other side of her apartment door, knowing her steps as always. She scrapes her shoes off on the doormat, a fresh new one for the season with a rainbow and HELLO SUNSHINE in bright big letters.
“Did he really?” She giggles, and blushes at herself for giggling. Her neighbors - the apartment next to hers - don’t seem to be home. Their lights aren’t on, anyway, and she can’t smell the usual blend of patchouli incense and grassy smoke making its way out through the less-than-perfectly sealed walls.
She listens to Meg tell the story, butterflies flipping in her stomach. Meg’s a coworker and she’s pretty sure not only interested in guys, but Krista hasn’t pulled up the courage yet to admit to her absolutely overwhelming crush.
Meg is almost six feet tall and could carry Krista around if she wanted to and does roller derby and Krista might actually faint dead away if Meg flirts with her any harder at work than she does already.
She digs her keys out of her pocket, jangling as she searches for the right one. The grooved metal fits seamlessly into a lock-
Leather smell suddenly floods her nose as a hand is clapped over her mouth, and she’s yanked back with a cry.
Her back thuds into someone’s flat chest as a voice growls low in her ear, “Hang up the fucking phone.”
Krista’s heart stops, and then starts again, racing as dread pools frozen in her stomach and knees. No, no, it’s been more than ten years, it can’t be happening now, it can’t-
She hears Meg, soft and muffled, asking her if she’s okay.
The owner of the voice behind her exhales in annoyance and shoves her. Krista smacks hard into her own front door, dazed, and he grabs the phone from her suddenly limp fingers. “Fuck it, I’ll do it. You’re not fucking bright, are you?”
“N-not-… fucking bright…” Krista echoes. Her fingers fumble with the key and push open the door, trying to get inside and lock it behind her.
She makes it in, Pepperjack winding around her legs, and she trips on him. “Pepper, baby, n-no-”
She spins, trying to slam the door.
When she goes to close it, though, he’s already there. Not tall and not short, he’s got a mask on the lower half of his face and a knit beanie pulled down. Bits of light-colored hair tinged blue by the streetlight down in the parking lot stick out from underneath.
Pepperjack yowls and runs to jump up on the couch, hissing at the man as he stalks inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
The room is dark.
“Pl, please-”
“Shut up.” He kicks her as she tries to get away, knocking her back down. When she crawls, he grabs her by her ponytail and yanks hard enough that she cries out as she feels some hair pulled right from her scalp. Her hands scrabble at him, but his gloves are thick and her fingernails can’t scratch. “I said shut the fuck up!”
“Shit the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up-” Krista’s mouth keeps moving, echoing him as her voice gets breathier. Her ribs ache where he kicked her. Her phone rings, Meg calling back maybe, but he declines the call, kicks her again, listens to her whimper.
He’s smiling under that mask at the sound.
She can tell.
“Jesus.” The guy stares down at her, then looks at her phone. “You keep any guns in this place?”
Krista swallows. Her owner, long ago, had guns all over the house. He used to make Krista put the barrel in her mouth while he counted to ten.
He never pulled the trigger, but-
Hecould have, and they both knew it, and he liked how she looked when she knew he might kill her.
“No,” She breathes. “I don’t have any money, I don’t have anything, I swear-”
Pepperjack is still meowing in the background, and when the guy turns to look at him Krista thinks wildly please don’t hurt my Pepper he’s already old please don’t-
“Don’t worry, kitty,” The guy says, oddly soothing, to the angry, worried animal. His voice changes entirely from threatening to soft. “She’s gonna do one thing for me and then I’m out, all right? Just one thing.”
“One, one thing?” Krista moves to stand, and he doesn’t stop her. She’s not a threat, he knows she isn’t. Maybe it’s a good thing but it burns in her that he doesn’t even think she could defend herself enough to worry about. “Just one thing?”
“Just one. Go sit down at the table.”
She must hesitate too long. He backhands her so hard she goes flying to the side, head smacking into the television, knocking it off its precarious stand. It tips forward onto her foot and she cries out, falling backwards.
Her face hurts and her head hurts and her ribs hurt and her foot is probably broken and the TV sparked and that’s not good-
“Fuck. Sorry about that.”
She looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed. Incredulous anger overtakes fear, just for a second. “Sorry about that?”
“Yeah. Didn’t think you’d just turn into a soccer ball.”
He grabs her by the arm and drags her back to her feet. The right one, the foot the television landed on, spikes sudden agony and she whimpers as he yanks her across the room, limping as much as she can.
He drops her into one of her own kitchen chairs and she stares at the little centerpiece there. “Am, am I going to d-die?” She asks, voice trembling, her hands gripped to the sides of the hard wooden kitchen seat. “Are you going to kill me?”
Am I going to die staring at a little paper flower bouquet and ceramic figures of dogs playing fetch?
“Wasn’t my plan, no. Just need you to make a phone call. I’ll tell you what to say.”
“… Tell me what to say,” Krista echoes. Her heart is beating so hard she’s worried it might break itself apart against her breastbone.
He drops her phone, then - on the other side of the table, too far for her to easily reach. He stands behind her, and she hitches in weak gasps as his hands pull out her ponytail holder and run through her hair.
“You’d look good as a romantic lead,” He murmurs, thoughtfully. Then he takes out his own phone, pulls some kind of program up - it’s not a phone call, not exactly. It’s video, and he leans over, pressing the side of his face against her temple.
She wants to throw up.
He tells her what to say.
The phone rings and rings. Her breath stutters and the world spins in her terror as his leather-tipped fingers play with the hair along the nape of her neck, graze along the line of her jaw.
Someone picks up.
She realizes who the guy is calling as soon as she hears the cheerful deep voice say, “Hey, Krista, what’s up?”
His face appears when the video portion connects. Wild black curls and wide blue eyes that narrow and then wide again as he sees her sitting in the dark lit only by the light of her phone - and then sees that she’s not alone.
“Krista?”
Her lips are trembling, and she can’t speak - not until he presses the palm of his hand against her neck, closes fingers and thumb, starts to squeeze.
“Kauri,” She says, tears running down her cheeks. The man’s face is so close. His cologne is making her sick. “It’s time to come home, b-baby ”
Kauri stills. Even in the slightly fuzzy video, she can see him freeze. “What?”
The man’s hand leaves her neck, and he tips his head to pull his mask down, yanks off the beanie. His hair mingles with Krista’s. He needs a shave.
“Come on, Kor-Bore, even you can’t be that stupid.”
Krista watches Kauri shatter right in front of her, a tiny face on a small screen. “Owen.”
“Owen,” Krista echoes.
“That’s right, baby,” Owen says. He twines a finger around a lock of Krista’s hair. She shudders, her knuckles white where she holds herself still. “Look who I ran into.”
Kauri is silent, eyes searching Krista’s, then he snorts with feigned disinterest. “Owen, you don’t even like women. Don’t act like you’ll do that shit to her, we both know you won’t. This isn’t ab-… about her. It’s about us, it always was. Just tell me what you fuh-fucking want.”
He sounds so brave. Krista loves Kauri for his bravery, when he needs to be brave, as she has loved him for every other part of him, too, even when it hurt.
Owen shoves her off the chair, and she hits the ground with a thump as Owen sits down where she was. Krista crawls and then throws herself to the couch, grabbing Pepperjack and holding him so tightly he yells in protest.
“I want you,” Owen says, as simple as that. “And I want you to know that I can get to anyone you care about, whenever I want, until you come back to me. I can be everywhere at once. I’m being nice right now, but I can start hurting them if I have to.”
“Owen-… Please, Krista didn’t do anything to you-”
“I know. And she’s just fine. But she doesn’t have to be. I don’t give a fuck about broken fucking pets, baby, you know that. You want to keep her safe? You have my number. And you and I both know if you go to the cops they’ll give you right back to me.”
“But-… Everyone knows, now-”
“You’re still my fucking property, Kor-Bore. I’ve got friends that are cops these days. And I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Owen-!”
“Comehome, Kauri. And it’s Mr. Owen, remember? Call me when you decide to come home where you belong.”
Owen hangs up the call and walks right out Krista’s front door, leaving her on the couch, Pepperjack’s claws digging into her arm through her shirt.
“Sorry about your TV,” He throws over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.
When her neighbors get home five minutes later, they find Krista’s front door wide open and their usually shy, cheerful neighbor crying on the couch, whispering to herself, “Kauri come home, Kauri come home,” again and again.
And again.
And again.
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@burtlederp@finder-of-rings@endless-whump@astrobly@thefancydoughnut@newandfiguringitout@doveotions@pretty-face-breaker@gonna-feel-that-tomorrow@boxboysandotherwhump@oops-its-whump@cubeswhump@whump-tr0pes@downriver914@whumptywhumpdump@whumpiary@orchidscript@nonsensical-whump@outofangband@eatyourdamnpears@hackles-up@grizzlie70@mylifeisonthebookshelf@keeper-of-all-the-random-things
Play Pretend #2 - Welcome Home
CW: Kidnapping, Restraints, Gagged, Creepy/Intimate/Obsessive Whumper, Non-con drugging/after effects, Implied stalking, Non-con touch, Non-con kiss, Alluding to panic attack, Swearing
Taglist: @sparrowsage@darkthingshappen@the-non-binary-cowboy@whatwasmyprevioususername
(Lemme know if you want to be added or removed <3)
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Heavy eyelids reluctantly strained open, blinking sluggishly to relieve the fogginess clouding his vision and groaning out as he awakened from what felt like a decade-long nap. Those eyelids felt like lead, it was an internal battle with himself to keep them pried open. Fatigue truly overwhelmed Josh, his brain trying so desperately to claw him back down into the depths of sleep, his woozy head rolling around weightlessly, unable to keep it upright. The drugs are evidently still running rampant in his system. Unbridled, aching pain sprinted through every single muscle, all of his senses reeling and out of whack.
With each passing second, a tiny bit of alertness drifted within his reach to snatch back, finally managing to drag his head upright begrudgingly, eyes widening to gaze at the unfamiliar surroundings - panicked breaths creeping up as he wildly swung his head from side to side to scan the full scape of the room he was locked in:
A basement.
A dingy, terrifying, dimly-lit basement.
The only miniscule source of light being a flickering, dull bulb dangling above in the centre of the room. Shivering from the cold, thin air hugging itself around his exposed arms, the hairs standing on edge as the barista’s uniform shirt offered little protection from the glacial temperatures.
Josh suddenly became very aware of the tight, burning pressure burrowing into his limbs; sat upright on a metal chair that had seemingly been fitted into the cement floor beneath him. Handcuffs fastened and biting into his wrists behind his back, ankles tightly bound to the legs of the chair winded with lengths of rope and to top it off; he found himself with a knotted cloth gag tied around his mouth, presumably to warn about any stupid ideas of screaming out for help.
Fuck that.
Of course Josh ignored the looming consequences, screaming bloody murder and bellowing muffled cries through the gag, tugging desperately at the binds hugging his limbs - giving himself the ridiculous belief that he could tear through pure metal, if he just tries hard enough. So obviously impossible but what was the other option, to sit patiently like a good little captive and do nothing? No, thanks.
Defeated cries and grunts echoed through the room, every inch of effort and energy being futile at trying to escape. That fucker from the shop, Josh’s mind churned, squeezing his fists with rage. He was responsible for this. He had chased the poor worker down, attacked and drugged him, to chain him up in a serial killer-esque basement. Josh struggled to and couldn’t mediate between the resentment and the fear he felt towards the stranger.
What could he possibly want? Money? Good luck with that; maybe there’s an old piggy bank back in his flat with a few pennies in there. Revenge? Geez, if he didn’t like his coffee he could just ask for a refund… you know, like a normal person would. In all seriousness, Josh would laugh at the thought of it being for revenge if he was not deathly scared right now. He’d never crossed anyone in his entire life, he didn’t know anyone nor have the enough hours in the day to be out there making enemies. A sharp, red flash caught his eye, ripping him from his thoughts and spinning his head to spot the security camera lurking in the corner of the room - almost perfectly hidden in its shadowy corner and watching Josh like a hawk, twisting and manoeuvring it’s view around the room, the lens whirring and zooming in.
He’s watching. He knows I’m awake -
The door at the top of a long wooden staircase swung open dramatically, revealing the dark figure lurking in the doorway, causing Josh to squint his eyes to adjust from the sudden, blinding burst of light leaking through. When his eyesight eventually levelled out, he now got a proper look at his captor looming before him, a tall and muscular frame that did not bode well for Josh in any fight or escape scenario. Dark brunette, wavy hair that framed his face with deep, dead brown eyes that stared him down with a condescending, lustful smile. He leant against the doorway, taking the moment to enjoy the sight and watch as Josh squirmed and huffed short and erratic breaths through his nostrils.
“Ah. You’re finally awake, sleeping beauty” he nodded his head forward with an arrogant smile, beginning to make his way down the creaky steps as Josh let out muffled, petrified protests, writhing in his seat, lashing out to break free from the restraints.
“Thought for a second I had accidentally overdosed you…you’ve been lights out for quite a bit-” Striding towards Josh and taking his chin in his firm, icy fingers, snapping the captive’s head up to look at him. Josh shot him the filthiest look, resuming the fight by roughly snatching his head back away from him with a growl, eliciting a scoffed laugh from the kidnapper.
“You’re making quite the racket down here, aren’t you?” he heartily chuckled, his thumb returning to its grip anyway, stroking across Josh’s chin, his clenched jaw. Josh began to feel faint, waves of nausea washing over him from stress but he fought to stay alert and conscious, terrified of what would happen if he let his guard slip for even a fraction of a second. Josh pressed his back hard into the chair, trying to edge far away from his captor, cowering away as much as physically possible from his touch as he lingered too close for comfort. Felix clocks on to Josh’s resistance, his low whimpers as he pulls away further and further. His lips twist into a contorted smile, removing his hands from Josh’s face as a flicker of relief shines in his glassy eyes - only to be swiftly stolen away when he instead brings his wandering hands down towards Josh’s thigh. Squeezing, and stroking the delicate skin as it involuntarily twitches underneath his fingertips, beginning to caress his touch suggestively down his legs, painfully slow. Josh cries out in defiance, trying to snatch his legs away but it’s no use - the ropes around the boy’s feet prevent any slight movement, keeping him painstakingly secured in place.
“Shh, pipe down”, his tone grew stern, digging his fingers harshly into the flesh now, making Josh hiss from the pressure, “you’re okay….you’re okay-”. The words were supposed to be calming, Felix oblivious that it failed miserably. Josh felt a hiccuping sob trap in his throat, stricken with terror - too wrapped up in alarm that he failed to notice the pair of lips unexpectedly slamming onto his own dry, cracked ones - despite the cloth tied around his mouth. Initiating a fierce one-way passionate kiss, his tongue running along Josh’s agape lips, then biting down; beads of blood smearing onto his tongue.
Josh went to pull his head away from the man’s direction with a distressed mumble but a rough hand grabbed onto the back of his head with a clear warning, fingers clenching onto his hair and balling it in his fist, keeping him sternly in place. All Josh could do is sit there motionless, shaking with fear and wait for his captor to be satisfied. Which was torturously longer than Josh hoped for; whining and murmuring into Felix’s mouth for what felt like hours before he finally relented. Pulling away with a smug, content look plastered on his face, wiping drool off his bottom lip with his thumb and exhaling a satisfied sigh - beaming down on his quivering, distraught prisoner with a sense of pride.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that”
There was no stopping the cascading flow of tears and jolted sobs any longer as Josh felt his face flush red with humiliation, biting into the soaked cloth in his mouth to swallow back what tears he could and hiding his face to the side, allowing the water that had been pooling in his eyes to finally spill for a quick moment. But his captor noticed.
“Oh, baby… no-” he cooed, now gently guiding Josh’s head to gaze at him with his finger as he stared back with what looked like genuine concern in his eyes. Wiping runaway tears away with his thumb and beginning to stroke the raven black hair falling down his face. Confusion prevented any other reaction from Josh, the tears paused in his eyes and his eyebrows furrowing from the demonstration of gentle affection… from the man that attacked, drugged and kidnapped him.
“There’s no reason to cry, Josh. There’s nothing to be scared of. Not anymore, you’re with me now. You’re safe. I’ll look after you, I swear” he whispered the promises with utter sincerity, taking the boy aback as he searched his kidnappers eyes for even a glimpse of what was going on in that head. Evidently looking terrified at that statement, Josh could feel the colour drain from his skin, his heart punching at his ribcage, pounding through his chest. The man placed his palm back on the tear-stained cheek.
Josh muffles incoherently through the gag, babbling hysteric pleas that go unheard. He needed that wretched thing out of his mouth, he needed to scream questions at this man just to gauge some sense of the situation. To find out what was happening, and why him… a nobody? Tilting his head, he begins rubbing his jaw against his shoulder, trying to pull the material out and away from his mouth so he can talk.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Felix scolds as though he were a small child, two palms clasping onto his pale cheeks and bringing his head up to look at him, stopping him imminently.
“I’m afraid this is going to have to stay on just a little longer, sweet…” Felix’s fingers slip under the gag over Josh’s cheeks, pulling at it but not removing it.
“Nnn!”
“Yes. I know you, Josh… you’re going to be totally emotional and irrational about all of this … you won’t let me get a word in edgeways and just freak out. You need a bit of a cool down-”
“Urghh!” a throaty groan wretched out as he threw his head back in frustration, testing his binds.
“I’ll leave you to get some actual sleep. I can imagine that artificial, drug sleep did you no favours”.
Damn right, it didn’t. The thunderclap headache plaguing Josh’s skull confirmed that, the dull aches pounding through his body that may have been tolerable had he not had the shit beaten out of him before he was knocked out and taken.
“It’s been a long day for you - we’ll talk properly in the morning”, and with that he left the sobbing boy alone with a gentle hand tapping his shoulder, slowly pulling away as he retreats, making his way up the stairs and slamming the hefty metal door; the clicking of several locks sound on the other side.
In that moment the severity of the situation came crashing down in fatal tidal waves, panic creeping up maliciously - Josh’s chest tightening and constricting as he struggled for breath. Shaking violently, the bile rising in his throat threatened to make him puke…but then the realisation of the gag made him freak out further from the worry that he’d choke on his own vomit.
Alone. Down here in a basement. Where no one knows where he is. Dying alone and afraid. The tears continued as he sat helpless in the middle of the isolated room. The shivers cascaded down his skin, a mixture of the cold temperature and the death-grip fear had on his mind being the culprit. How he was expected to just drift into a well-rested nights sleep after all that happened, and all that awaited was beyond him. The tears continue to stream down his puffed cheeks, the cold harsh air instantly drying them before they even had a chance to drip onto the cement beneath him. He needed to ask the question he’d be dying to ask from the moment his kidnapper pulled the gun in the cafe:
Why him?
-
