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dottore having to dispose of a faulty clone (maybe bc they were threatening reader) and then handfeeding reader parts of it like cannibalism as a metaphor for love…. do we see the vision or is this a little too 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 💔💔

A/n: pookie you're all good, thank you for feeding my brain worms with this idea I'm sending you smooches. I do hope I executed this well. I had a lot in my head that I wanted to write for this but I didn't want this to turn into a word scramble so here's this. Enjoy <3

Content: Dottore x GN reader, dark content(?), a bit yandere, implied unhealthy relationship, implied cannibalism, cannibalism as a metaphor for love, idk what else to tag as I never posted something like this so if anything else needs tagging feel free to lemme know

Words: 735

Several candles lined the polished oak table, its surface smooth and almost sticky, the light rippling over the dark lines of the carvings on top like little light bugs chasing one another. The golden hues danced over the plates as well, but the dim light scarcely allowed for a good look at the dishes.

The fork extending forward to your lips was the only thing that held your attention long enough to be observed, taken in fully, lips closing around the bit of meat and vegetables. The juice and oil fills your mouth, sinking past your teeth and around your gums, the taste is rich yet stale all at once. You couldn’t comment on it, you didn't know what to say about it. Not with the Doctor sitting at your side and being the one to feed you so, so gently.

It's hard to remember when was the last time he looked so gentle, kind even, perhaps when he was lighting up the candles with such care, as if his own breath would blow the flames into a blaze, allowing you to see your plate in full.

The meat was well done, seasoned to your liking, and something told you it was Dottore’s own hand who prepared it, gave it his all to make it so perfect for consumption. Parts of him were laced through every sensation, every smell and every bite. Your own plate is set before him and he's cutting all your bites, spearing pieces of meat and salad onto the fork before feeding it to you, making sure you ate well.

The dull ache in your arms is brought back into memory as you languidly chew on a bite, and your fingers absentmindedly touch over your sleeves over where the bruises lay, feeling the ache grow.

“Do they still hurt you?” His voice called out amidst smoky smells and brown fog, calling you to the present. “Have you gotten any rest at all, my dear?” He added, his head tilting in your direction, his bird-like mask not allowing you for a glimpse of his ruby eyes, but from underneath you can see glimpses of the scars peeking through, teasing your eyes. For some reason he chose to wear it here, now, only puzzling you further. 

“No.. no.. they're fine… I’ll get some rest later tonight, sir..” you reply as you swallow and watch how he grimaced at the title, and you nearly cough from how big this bite was, but you would have taken a bigger bite had Dottore allowed you to feast yourself. Perhaps not, but you told yourself you would. Be it the rich taste or some other factor, you yearned to take up each bone from the meat and lick it clean, sucking out the marrow from within and letting it melt into your guts.

Would he be satisfied then?

Would you be?

The candles flicker. He's still looking at you

“Are you still afraid? I've already told you so, and explained it many times. You have nothing to fear here. This was just an error in the system which will not ever happen again.. and you shouldn't have been around to witness it, anyhow..”. You have to wonder how he can say all this with so little fear. Then again, the clone was his creation. He knew it inside and out, every crevice and every wire.

“I understand.. it's just that.. I'd rather not face the others now..not after that..” 

Truth be told, having him around was also slightly unnerving, as he wore nearly an identical face as the one that harmed you. They were the same, but also not. He was gentle, but he was not.

The one that hurt you was long disposed of and would never harm you again, but Dottore was once the one that hurt you, and now he has poured himself out before you, all for your pleasure and the sweet poison of safety and love.

He hopes to convey it to you through each meticulously put bite, every sip he graces your lips with. He had cut himself open for you and would do so again, just as he hurt you through that error. It came as easy as drinking and breathing. 

“That’s understandable. I assure you are safe, and however dark the night may get - I'll be there with you… But for now, you must eat, not fear. Open wide..”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

PART TWO!!! Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, smoking, horny posting.

(AN: Part Two has arrived! Mmmmmm, old men.)

Part 1

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Ridgemoore Academy being an all male school, this makes it easier to imagine a world where reader is allowed in the school. Now, let's focus on the faculty...

◇ Mr. Joel Murphy, who teaches the majority of the 'life skills' classes at the school. The school being all-boys is very traditional, and teaches things like game hunting and orienteering, which is why they hired a manly-man like Joel. If only they knew what a bitter grump he is. An ex-sheriff of the nearby town, he decided to leave the force after realizing there was no real crime in the small, privileged town, and decided to take up an easy job at the school. Unfortunately, he realized his love for camping and hunting is warped into what he considers 'frilly shit for rich little boys'. He's gruff, barking out orders and easily been exasperated at the sheer incompetence of the boys.

"Shoot one quail, and these boys act like they killed a bear..."

He thought about retiring from yet another job, as living on the ritzy campus just doesn't feel like home to him, and lord knows he's not fond of his job. However, things change when you arrive. Whether you're a delinquent or a little more sweet and obedient, he likes you. If you're a delinquent, he likes seeing a little hell-raiser kick up some shit at the fancy school. If you're sweet or shy, he gets protective. Nice youngins' like you shouldn't be thrown in amongst these spoiled weasels.

He's sure to help you if you need it, a gentle hand on your back as his burly chest presses against your shoulder blades, adjusting your position against the butt of a rifle. Standing by while you're on hands and knees trying to light a fire, making sure none of the boys are trying to get a look at your assessts. Not that he isn't going to, but he justifies it to himself as just making sure your school shorts/skirt is regulation. He's protecting your modesty. After class hours, come to him with any issues, or shit, even his room. He'll put on some coffee and ask you to help him create a curriculum that 'reaches the kids', as your father instructed him to. It's cozy, the fancy school adnorments thrown away for medals and plaques, national parks posters and a few old family photos. He'll keep you tucked in on his warm couch while he strays from curriculum talk to stories of his time in the scouts and on the force. Tells you about how much he loves just... laying out under the stars with somebody special, to sit around a campfire with friends, then slyly ask is you've ever had somebody to do that with. He knows you're younger than him, and he struggles with the idea that you won't want him cause of it, so for now, he'll bask in the feeling of seeing you curled up in his room, keeping the idea of picking you up and having you accept his cock to himself. If you can get pregnant, his fists his cock to the thought of that too. He's not some horned up boy, he wants you in the long term.

He looooooves the yearly orienteering final, in which the students in the class are made to go on an actual camping trip. It's possible a tent will 'accidentally' go missing, leaving you to bunk with him. Don't worry, nothing bads gonna happen while you've got this burly bear of a man practically spooning you, warm gut from his dad-bod pressed against you as he tries his best to make sure he doesn't scare you.

"Sorry those damn boys left your tent back at the school, kiddo. I... wouldn't be suprised of one of them did it on purpose, little bastards." He grumbles, hoping you'll take the hint to separate yourself from those immature preps and stick to being with a man who can treat you right. "Remember that lesson from a couple weeks ago, on body heat? I know it's awkward, but we've only got one sleeping bag. You feel like you can trust this old man to keep you warm?" Unfortunately for his ego and trying to keep down his urges, the trees aren't going to be the only wood in the morning.

◇ Mr. Paul Burton, head of the arts department. He's so over this, a once decent artist who dabbled in pop art and theatre only to stop getting gigs and be black-listed after offending several more famous artists, calling their work 'sell-out chic', he's now a burn-out who smokes and ignores his students all class. He's passionate about art, but frankly he doesn't want tow aste his time teaching when he knows these rats are taking his class for easy credit. He's only teaching here to utilize the facilities and studios so he's not living in a van in the Walmart parking lot. A mix of hippie culture, live and let live and cynical burnout, he's so. Fucking. Done. But... maybe you change that for him.

You're interesting, a headmasters child who doesn't fit in to your fathers perfect mold? Maybe a rebellious student who goes against the grain of this perfect school. Or a blooming ray of sunshine in this dark den of privilege and conformist curriculum for the future lawyers of the world. Either way, he's found a new muse. See him after class.

He'll be thrilled if you're into art, let him guide you. Tell him your favorite artists and he'll tell you when he threw up on there shoes by accident in his hey-day. Gossip about a student you don't like, he'll listen while he smokes and tell you about how that guys mom hit on him. He loves to gossip, but he loves to watch you create more. The way your hands shape a vase or brush across a canvas light a fire in him he hasn't felt in a while. He's more willing to forgo the age gap between you, while it's never something he considered before, he knows he's not gonna let go of the one thing that makes him feel like he lives again. Besides, he's always been unconventional.

He'll have you stay after class, maybe he'll have you pose nude for a painting, assuring you it's fins, it's platonic, it's just for the love of art. He chooses and extra large canvas, it lets him paint while he relieves himself as you explain you're getting cold. He'll put on some artsy, silent, black and white film from the 30s, and while you watch and slowly realize it's pornographic, He'll grin to himself while he watches you flush. He'll ask you all sorts of questions about your thoughts on the film, the actors, what they're doing. He really wants to figure out how experienced you are. "What do you think of the composition? It's really carnal, you know?" He puts out his cigarette. "I'm glad I can show this to you, you'll actually appreciate it. You're not giggling like an idiot when some guys penis is out on the screen." He groans, thinking of his other students.

He does actually like one student, though they make an odd pair. Joseph's easily spooked and shy personality clashes with the brash older man's, but he's glad to have someone he can think of as a protege. Someone who loves art as much as him, but get isolated for it. He was doing a portfolio look over when Joseph accidentally turned in the wrong folder. Joseph feels like he might die as Mr. Burton, a man he admires, flips through nude pictures of the object of his affection, and at a distance no less. A part of him wants to rip it away, but he needs this scholarship.

"Please, please, sir! I-I'll never do it again, it was just a phase, I didn't mean for you to see-"

"They're good." Mr. Burton flips through the folder. "Real good. You could really get somewhere with these, maybe not in the fine art scene, but... tell you what." He adjusts his glasses and leans forward on his desk. "We'll do a special session, you and me, yeah? I'll get your friend here, and I'll vouch for your integrity so you can take some less-" he purses his lips. "Stalker-ish pics- Jesus, kid, is that taken from a tree?"

☆ Anatoli Sidorov, probably the best paid staff given how they got him here. He's a Russian coach for a former Olympic Russian swim team, and he joined the prestigious American school to escape shame after he 'resigned' post a doping scandal which he swears he wasn't involved in. (Whether he was or not is your choice.) Still, he's led the boys swim team and track team to nationals several times, and he's a legend among the wealthy benefactors of the school. He's outwardly very serious, hard on his team but respectful of them. He doesn't put up with any unruly or unsportsmanlike behavior from his boys, at least not what he can see. He's very nice deep down, intellectual and funny, though he still struggles with American humor and English.

He adores you when he meets you, milking about with the other students before class. You seem genuinely social, and wanting to fit in. The idea someone could be so welcoming warms his heart. Deep down, he misses his home, and he misses the friends he once had. You're warm, and he likes that. Not to mention, you're a looker. He's embarrassed, especially if you're male, seeing as he never considered swinging the other way, and much less with someone younger. But he can't help but stare when your pretty tits bounce as you run, or the way those jogging shorts hardly conceal your bulge. He even pulled you to the side one to scold you for not wearing regulation gym clothes, before realizing they were and awkwardly sending you back into class. That was a moment of self-reflection for him.

He's not necessarily outwardly softer to you, you might even think he doesn't like you, given that he has you stay late to run or jump rope, or constantly pulls you into time out mid-game. It's all for your own good, trust him. He doesn't like the way some of the boys were looking at you, and he could tell Evan was a only a play away from trying to practically hump you while trying to 'get the ball'. He's made Harrison, who he loves as a player, run laps for talking to you for only a few minutes. He hates feeling like a jealous boy, but he can't help it. You make him feel young.

He establishes a private locker room area for you, since you're the headmasters kid and not an official student. Besides, you're clearly being harassed by the others! So, he's got a nice little closet for you, with a not suspicious air freshener that's not a hidden camera, and a private key only you have access to. (Technically that's true, he just has a bypass key for himself.) He'll snatch a pair of boxers or some panties, slipping them into his track coat for later. Eventually, he'll tell you he's worried you aren't able to catch up to the others, given that you arrived later and started the gym curriculum later than the others. He'll start having extra 'make-up' workouts with you, starting with stretching. One leg uo on the bar, you'll have to excuses his cold hand running along your thigh, or stroking over your chest as him just admiring how your strength and flexibility is evolving. He relishes the feeling of your body on his, groping you under the guise of training and resisting the urge to just slip aside your gym shorts and veg you to take him.

"Little star, part 'dem a little, there ve go." He keeps your legs parted as he works you into a position on your back, against the rubber mats the tumbling team had laid out. He lays just over you, pushing your legs back a little further with his arms, just far away enough to keep you from noticing his hard on, but enough to lightly press it against the plush swell of your ass. Good, let's just- fuck- hold. Let's hold."

☆ Kory Koffman, English teacher and part time librarian! The school outs so much effort into sports, both admin and students seem to forget about him. Hell, the library is used so little they fired the librarian, and he took it upon himself to try and care for the building himself. He's a sweet, shy man, who just wants to share his passion for literature with others. However, unlike Mr. Burton, he was never popular or famous, so he's content to keep to himself, but the loneliness does get to him.

When you wandered into his library one day, maybe looking for a book or seeking refuge from a hoarde ofadmirers, he was happy to welcome you into his little safe haven. He'll give you some warm tea from the little coffee machine he has set up, and sit you down. Let him help you find a book, or tell you about his creative writing class? He'd let you join, even late in the semester! It's not a very full class.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself craving the attention of another, of someone else's company, other than his books. He hasn't felt that need for connection since he was a boy, after his momma passed. He'll do anything to keep you there, and if reading isn't your thing, much to his chagrin, he'll add a DVD section to the library, but only good films and classic for you! No Adam Sandler, those movies are to overstimulating for poor Mr. Koffman.

As his feelings turn romantic, he's ashamed. You're a student, and he's a lonely old man, you deserve someone better, someone your age. However, the thought of you being with any of the many students who mock him in the halls or disrupt his class, the thought of hand you over to those-those imbeciles, hurts him. He wants you, and he's ashamed at the way his trousers go tight when you bend over to get a fallen book, or when you hand him his glasses after he misplaced them (again), the fact he just stares at your finger prints for awhile and refuses to clean the lens. He's not had sex in a long, long time, but he finds himself masturbating more than he ever did when he was younger. He'll watch library security footage openly, moaning and whimpering at his desk with no fear anybody will stop in, no one ever does but you. He wants you as his spouse, you already make his library, his home away from home seem brighter, imagine what you could do for his actual apartment.

"Oh, hello! It's good to see you, it's been a bit." He's a little bitter at that last statement, but adjusts his glasses and continues. "Just remember to stop by often, okay? I'd really, really hate to impose the late policy on you..."

☆ Atticus Critch, the schools latin instructor and head sponsor of student body, (not to mention the man in charge of detention), is a strict disciplinarian. He takes no nonsense from anyone, and despises the behavioral pardons given to boys like Evan or Harrison simply because they are athletes. Peter is obviously his favorite, and when he catches wind of the ways the boys around campus are speaking about you, he decides to take it upon himself to remove the distraction, by having Peter trail you and give you detention for minor inconveniences. Peter isn't particularly thrilled at always having to send you to detention instead of extorting you to get his rocks off, but he's hoping maybe he'll get to 'monitor' detention one of these days.

Initially, Mr. Critch has you doing small tasks, writing lines or organizing things, but soon he starts to see the appeal. If you're a good student for the most part, he's determined to keep you good, and away from all the vermin in this school. If you're bad, he's had plenty of experience in taming brats. He's open with his sexual desires, it his growing affection for you that makes him struggle.

If you've stayed out too late and broke curfew, you can spend detention on your knees, suckling his cock into the late hours. Maybe you've been running around with Tyler. He'll make you lay down on his desk and deny you your climax over and over again, asking is not making you cum is what that boy does to you, never fully satisfying you. He'll make you beg to finish, and to promise you'll be good from now on.

"Come on, repeat it. Tell me you'll be good now, that you won't bother with BOYS-" He annuciates with a thrust, "When you have a man right here, whose willing to take time out of his day to discipline you!" One the amorous session is over though, he definitely softens, trying to prove he's more than a boy in many ways, including good aftercare. He'll dress your limp form back up in your uniform and walk you get you a cup of water from the fountain. "Only ten minutes till your detention is over, dear. Just sit there, take some time to reflect on how you got here." His tone is demeaning, but as he pets your scalp, his touch is so feather-light. Don't expect is to last into the next day though.

I take my yandere possessed vibrator idea back... yandere possessed dildo because imagining that fly at you when you try leaving the house for any reason is very amusing to me

It’s be even funnier if it was one of those thrusting ones 😭😭 IMAGINE TRYING TO SLEEP AND ITS THRUSTING INTO YOUR CHEEK

Imagine a ghost/ demon that’s obsessed with you but they cannot touch you, so they possess your sex toys.

You often find your vibrators and dildos thrusting and vibrating just a bit stronger than before. You’ve never had toe curling orgasms with them before but now it’s a common occurrence. Hell, even sitting on your washing machine gets the job done.

And you just can’t figure out why every inanimate object you’ve had a sexual encounter with is ten times stronger… until you try to go on a date and your dildo slaps you in the head.

Were you being haunted? Were you being haunted by a nymphomaniac?

FORCED CHEMISTRY

A SCIENTIST!GOJO SATORU X ASSISTANT!F!READER FIC.

CONTENT WARNINGS: NSFW (mdni), manipulative!yandere!alpha!Gojo, omega!f!reader, dubcon, a/b/o dynamics, mating bites, breeding, knotting, sex pollen, syringes/injections

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

A/N: here’s my piece for my discord server’s collab: rated L for Lewd! big thank you to @hisoknen for beta reading and offering your thoughts!! still super happy that you love the way i write this dumb bastard man 🥺

Heavy are your footfalls that meet the unyielding terrain of the mysterious planet that’s been on you and your fellow scientists’ radars for quite some time now. You exasperatedly thumb through what’s left of your notes while your lanky boss stretches a foot or so ahead of you, long arms inviting the sky into them. He throws his head back over his shoulder to flash an award-winning smile at you. It drops and forms into a pout when you don’t even dignify him with a look.

“Still mad at me?” he asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes,” you hiss through your teeth, “Gojo you ruined a significant portion of my field notes with your reckless, thoughtless piloting. Again.”

Gojo’s suddenly in front of you, face leaning into yours. You jump, taken aback at the close proximity in which you can smell the aroma of coffee off of him from the stack of unsalvageable notes you had thrown at his face.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Gojo?”

“You shouldn’t frown so much. Y’know, they say it takes twenty-six more muscles to frown than it does to smile.” he cheerily singsongs as he pulls at the corners of your lips into a mock smile. You swat his hand away, irritation etched deeply between your brows. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re gonna get wrinkles the more you keep contorting that pretty face of yours. C’mon, follow my example!” Gojo says as he beams down at you. You continue staring at him with such blatant unamusement that he practically deflates and kicks a rock away dejectedly. He mumbles under his breath, causing you to quirk an eyebrow.

“Have something you want to say?” you inquire before he mumbles again, this time facing away from you. 

Whining, he turns to fix puppy-dog eyes on you. “I already said I was sorry…”

You suck in a harsh breath, the irritation rolling off of you in waves. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it you absolute idiot! You knew how important those notes were. I needed those to work off of for Yaga’s report and you just—!”

“What if I told you I already submitted a report for you using the notes you like to just leave around where any old idiot like me can pick them up?” Gojo grins seeing you sigh and rake a hand through your hair.

Before any words could leave your mouth, a bellowing boom shakes the ground somewhere in the distance, acid green liquid spewing high into the air. You both share a glance.

“Adventure awaits, dearest Y/N!” your moron of a boss exclaims before marching onwards towards the source of the booming noise. You follow in his footsteps, trying in vain to match his strides. Why’d the damned bastard have to be so tall?

As you two cautiously approach the area of concern, Gojo quickly throws a set of technologically-advanced headphones at you which you catch effortlessly and immediately wear. Beyond the planet’s flora and fauna that spreads into the horizon, a geyser comes into your line of sight. Another rumble reverberates through the ground as that same liquid from earlier shoots out of the hole. Stabilizing your feet, you continue on alongside your partner.

“Hand me a reinforced test tube,” Gojo tells you in a businesslike manner. “We need a sample of that to bring back to HQ. Stay here.”

You nod solemnly as you place the tube in the waiting palm of his hand, expecting your boss to come bounding back to you excited at the prospect of new material to research.

What you didn’t expect when you went to search for him, was the blow to the back of your head, effectively shutting the lights of your world off, submerging you into total-encompassing darkness.

Keep reading

Yandere who’s the mother to your partner.

Their child had always been a little shit, going out of their way from when they were younger to make their mothers life hell. Their father had been practically non existant from their lives and their mother tried everything to keep them well looked after, loved and feed. Taking on multiple jobs to keep giving extra money for going out with friends and trips but never did anything for herself.

Still her child never said or did one nice thing from her and leeched off her until they moved away too late into their lives.

She had lost her motherly care for her child when they hit late teens as she finally saw they would never change but she kept looking after them till the end.

Then one day they call her up asking her to meet their s/o, you.

She doesn’t think much of it and goes into auto-pilot mode to prepare everything, puts a fake smile on when her child walks in but quickly drops it when she see’s you.

Immediately loving you from when she see’s you shyly saying hi and handing her wrapped fruit and profusely apologising that you didn’t cook anything or bring anything expensive.

She quickly snaps out of it though and ushers you inside while cooing at you and saying how the fruit is more than okay and how much she’s happy you thought of her, praising you for buying such fresh and picking the perfect ripe fruit.

Your s/o thinking nothing of it as they walk around the house like….. their own home (because it was) and going about dinner with their mother not really talking much as their mother askes you as many questions that won’t make you uncomfortable or pushy.

She is over the moon when you click with her and her eyes basically turn into hearts as you ask HER questions and help her clear the plates. She can just tell you’re a good cookie at heart and definitely gives you HER number to keep in contact.

Humming away while she sweeps the house while thinking of how wonderful you are she stops when she gets to the thought about you being with her child.

“I’m happy they found someone like (Y/N)….” 

Because she is happy that your wonderful but the thought of you being with HER child leaves this taste in her mouth.

She shakes it off though and continues her night.

--

She calls and texts as much as she can, what turned into going to her house once a month turned into every few weeks then every week then almost every day.

Now you were a little awkward, shy and apprehensive at first. Not being good with new people but you were just so nice how could she not look over all that? And you being a shy little cutie just made her fall in love with you more!

It’s not like you really minded, your s/o’s mother is unbelievably nice to you? Score! Especially since your own relationship with your mother was rocky to say the least. Finally having a loving care taker figure in your life made you so happy, and that was shown in how you would smile more and how much your mental health improved. 

The s/o in question didn’t care, you were getting along with their mother? Cool. 

It’s not like they were bad, it was a good relationship. You could bond over things and you loved them but… it felt like they loved the idea of you more than you yourself. 

But you always shook that feeling off because this was the first okay relationship you have had ever, and now you have an amazing mother figure in your life!! How could you ruin something like this!

…..

Until she can see how you try not to grimace at the thought of her child, when you seem like you don’t want to leave but you have to. She can tell what your thinking because she has BEEN there and knows her child, she could let it slide for herself but not you. Oh no not poor you.

You always had hinted that bad stuff had happened to you, glossing over people taking advantage over you and close family hurting and gaslighting you to think it was your own fault for stuff but when she prods a little bit one day and you just sob and sink into her arms that’s when the damn breaks.

S/o didn’t do anything, you promise! and everything has been going fine, good even. You finally have someone to talk to! Her! It’s going amazing!!

But life piles on and on and even though this has been going well other things happen and it just adds onto the pile that’s been forming for months, its like when one good thing happens 5 bad things happen right after and your s/o isn’t much help. You feel like a burden going to them so you don’t. 

When she hears this she nearly goes crazy right then and there but she just pulls you into her warm arms that feel like a safe barrier to you and the outside world, your still sitting in your chair but she’s over you and pressing your face into her stomach and it feels like everything melts away.

Not just the day or bad months, it feels like all those years of hurt come back out because you finally feel safe and all you can do is wail as you rub your wet face into her shirt. 

It feels like eternity with her rubbing your back and whispering sweet words into your ear, encouraging you to steady your breathing by purposely slowing hers down, before you start to lessen your whole body convulsing sobs into little sniffles and whines. 

“Sweet heart you are the most strong person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, you keep going when things are constantly bringing you down. I’m proud of you.”

Those last few words send you into another sob session but you just hold her tighter and she kisses the crown of your head.

She soothes you through your endless amount of tears, whispering soft words and humming soothingly. Fetching you a glass of water to rehydrate and invited you to help her make some of her specialty chocolate chip cookies.  The rest of the day is spent in giggles and laughter in her warm and cozy kitchen, then eating one too many of her delicious gooey cookies before she puts you down for a nap.  And just like today when she comforted you, she would be there to comfort you a few days later when your s/o suddenly goes missing. Promising she will always be there for you, telling you to sleep over at her house, saying its no trouble at all and that she doesnt want to be alone at a time like this. The house just feels so empty for the mother now! How cruel! You wouldn’t want her to be all alone now would you, not when she’s oh so nice and makes the best yummiest foods. 

All while she keeps the secret that she was the one dispose of her no good wretched child…. And her child’s disappearance was almost identical to her cheating husbands…. Hmm what a coincidence.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I have a sweet spot for MILF and DILF's and I secretly love this character already so if you want this lovely yandere to be a staple yandere on my Tumblr please please tell me ♡ Mwah~

Hi! I love reading your story's, can I request a yandere Hannibal x fem reader please?😊💕

It’s not surprising that Hannibal plays the long game but Hannibal also makes the game. 

It was easy for him to set up the game, almost laughably easy. He was a renowned therapist who helps police on cases, strong, smart, made a name for himself- a good name. Your parents didn’t even have a chance to have doubts when he came to ask for your hand in marriage. If anything your parents were elated, over the moon that you, the black sheep of the family, had the eye of a man like Hannibal. They practically threw poor little you to into his hands. 

One thing Hannibal likes is politeness, manners, and no matter when or how Hannibal had meet you he was struck with the need to understand you, figure you out and not in his usual killing urge type of way. After a few months or even years of following you around he finally realises what it is, love. 

Does he really think its love? Not really, its something deeper, more sinister than love. He would rip apart anyone that would try to hurt you, he wants to keep you safe with such feral intensity it’s not sane. But he himself can’t even breathe at the thought of hurting you himself either so he chalks it up with a simple word. Love. 

He should have seen it coming, really he should’ve since he had been watching and ‘protecting’ you for so long, but he’s still struck shocked when you fight back your holy matrimony with such pettiness and sass. You couldn’t stop your parents from practically forcing you to agree to marry him, getting dressed up in a dress you didn’t really care about, everything too grand and nothing like what the little girl in you envisioned. So, in retaliation you tried everything to get him to re-think his decision, anything to get him to divorce you, even if it meant being a sassy brat. Turning your nose up at his delicious food just to piss him off, doing little things you knew he hated just to push his buttons.

It’s cute, he thinks, really cute that you think being a brat would stop his heart from yearning for you so much his physically body aches being away from you. But you aren’t a brat, are you? Your just pretending because your sick of your parents stupid pressuring expectations, hating how they dictated every little thing in your life and now your ‘life’ partner. 

Every time you push and shove and take bits and pieces of his sanity it just fuels his obsession for you, every time he feels himself get frustrated or irritated it just makes him more head over heels over you. Staring at you with hearts practically in his eyes as you make his blood boil, he takes everything in stride. With a polite smile on his lips and insanity in his heart eyes. 

But he does feel bad, really he does, he feels bad that you have terrible no good rotten parents who are ready throw you to the wolves once they get their greed filled, or bad enough for a man who feels no remorse or guilt. Maybe its pity, he thinks, like how one looks at a wounded animal. But he could never see you at a level as an animal, no matter how adorably cute you are. Maybe a goddess then, a fallen goddess, he worships you as if you’re a goddess anyways, taking your sass and anger as some sort of twisted love from a holier being. 

He can’t help the feeling of amusement that bubbles up when he see’s you try to be a brat, but the manners engraved into your very soul peek out, like your body and mind are fighting on your decision to pretend to be mean when your really such a sweet nice darling. 

The little ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ that come out when you demand something from him or the sweet little ‘no thank you’ that you give him when you pretend to glare at him with faux hatred in your eyes, because you didn’t really hate him. How could you? He was unbelievably sweet and attentive, picking up on the little things you didn’t even know about yourself until he picks up on it. He was the best husband anyone could ask for, in and out, even if he could be a little serious, cold and calculative at times. Hannibal shields you from everyone, including your parents, shutting them down so quickly and efficiently when they start their bullshit of bringing you down it seems natural. 

And one day your fake anger towards him slips, your tipsy on alcohol and his love, its all consuming but it feels oddly soothing, like cool balm on an open wound. You stumble and almost trip, but his arms are already there to catch you, ready to do anything to keep you safe and without thinking you lean up and press a soft, albeit clumsy, kiss on his lips. 

Something in Hannibal snaps. The kiss, as quick and fleeting as it was felt like heaven. Like he was reborn, like for once in his life he could finally breathe.

You gave this dirty, blood-stained sinner a slice of heaven and now he’s your most devoted worshiper at your alter. For better, or for worse. 

~~

Hannibal has you pressed in a mean mating press, one of your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. The thin handmade anklet he got you for your wedding present, dainty and small, designed from start to finish by him with a little ‘H’ dangling on it chimes in his ear and makes his head spin. 

“I- god- I love you so much.” He groans out, sweat clinging to his brow as his messy blonde hair sticks to his skin. “Goddess." He murmurs into your skin, pressing his lips against your ankle, kissing all the way up to the side of your knee as he saours the way your skin feels on his lips. Pulling back he licks your sweat that smeared on his lips and he smirks. 

 His pupils are wide and blown as he gazes down at you with so much love and tenderness it hurts. Sweat clung to his muscular frame as he threw his head back, groaning so low you feel it in your tummy.

Your in worse shape than him, yourpractically writhing under him, not able to escape the torturous pleasure as he puts all his weight down onto you. As sweaty if not more than him, twisting and bucking and shaking, hair messed and sprawled out on the bed beneath you, eye brows knitted. Your breath being selfishly stolen by him as he takes and takes, gasps the only thing able to leaven you as well as broken keens and whimpers. You had long stopped trying to muffle your embarrassingly lewd noises, he had practically growled at you to let them out, not letting you hide anything from him. 

Sparks zing up your spine as he hits deep and a wail leaves you, your hand coming to push at his lower stomach, nails scratching over his muscles. Hannibal moans and his eyes roll at the feeling, quickly snatching your hand he slams it softly next to your head. His fingers entwining with his as he locks them together. 

Long deep slow strokes makes your brain melt out of your ears, brain gone all fuzzy as you get addicted to him and his touch. 

“Take it sweetheart, I know you can.” His breath hitches as he forces your thighs open wider to accommodate him, he looms over your more and the change of position makes you cry out. “Let me worship you my goddess, your mine, all mine.”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Woo wee thats finally done! I hope my first proper attempt at smut was ok I think there was another ask for Hannibal but it was H/C's, I'LL GET TO YOU MY LOVELY I PROMISE 😭 Im trying to get back into writing but its hard, im sorry but I will get to you all. Some might be before others just because some things kick start my writing process 🥺 But please keep sending requests I love the ideas and support even if it takes me a bit to get to them. Hope you enjoy lovelies.

~Mwah ♡

TW: Smut, like just absolute FILTH! MDNI! My second attempt at smut please be kind, this man has been eating my brain. 'Pretty' is used but no gender or gendered parts are used ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nanami Kento is a gentleman through and through and that doesn’t change when he’s drowning in his own possessive thoughts about you but even the nicest of men can snap after being pushed to the brink. 

Kento had delt with your multiple escape attempts with grace even after dealing with a migraine named ‘Gojo Satoru’ and idiotic co-workers at his dreaded desk job. So today should be the same shouldn’t it? He was practically counting down the days of your next escape attempt, knowing it would be coming up and making taking appropriate measures. 

So why was he feeling like this? Why was he feeling buzzing underneath his skin? Why was he restless? Why did he feel like his mind full of cotton and spinning at the same time? Why did it feel like it was impossible to breathe?

He’s always a gentleman, even when he pins you down on the soft bed, your body sinking into the plush surface as he rails you brain dead. 

Usually, he loves seeing your pretty face scrunch up in those cute little expressions but he has your front pressed into the sheets. Practically laying on-top of you as he drapes himself over your back making sure you couldn’t even think about running away from the pleasure he was drowning you in. 

Dirty sticky wet ‘plap, plap, plap’, sounds echoing the room as he fills you up so deliciously with deep, strong, slow strokes. 

You can’t even bring yourself to ask him to go faster because it already feels so good, the pleasure melting your brain leaving only moans and hiccupped cries to spill out of your spit-stained lips. It honestly feels like you’re drowning as he makes you take it again and again and again and again-

Whining out brokenly as you drool all over his thick veiny forearm, Kento keeping you in a headlock as he spews absolute filth into your ear in between his own groans. “There we go sweet thing, takin’ it so prettily for me-” His own breath hitches and his head tilt back just a little, blonde hair falling over his eyes. 

The deep moan he lets out hits you hard, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear as he presses kisses everywhere he can reach, on your cheeks, your neck, your shoulders. The soft plush feeling of his sweet kisses contrasting with his mean deep thrusts. 

His yanks his arm back tightening his grip, not enough to choke you but enough so you could feel the pressure. “No, no, no sweetheart- don’t run from it now.” A chuckle leaves his lips as your head tilts back, his eyes soaking up the absolute mess he’s made of you. Your eyes glazed over and knocked back, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth cutely as your mouth opens in choked out moans. “You’re taking it, I’m going to make you take it.” He growls out, a smirk pulling his lips as his free hand comes to hold your plush hips down, feeling how feverish your skin was. 

“The little brat just needed to get to get fucked huh?” Kento coo’s so sweetly its mocking, but the blunt lewd words coming from the usual stoic man makes everything feel that much more dirty. “Needed me to fuck those stupid thoughts right out of your skull huh love? You could have just asked instead of acting out baby.”

He lets out a low moan as presses sloppy kisses to your already sloppy mouth, drinking up your cries and tasting your salty tears dripping into both of your mouths. 

Kento’s tongue messily presses against yours as you try and fail to speak, only letting out a muffled “Hngh-” since he really and truly left you brain dead. Panting into his mouth you squeal when he tilts your hips up, jerking your body with his deep thrusts as he goes even deeper. Choking on a gasp as he pulls back to groan, thick brows pinches together as he feels you clench. “Ah- shit sweet thing, gonna drive me crazy for you.” He grits out, his breathing laboured as he feels himselfstart to get fucked-out, pleasure shooting up his spin and making him shiver.  The thought of Kento and Kento alone fills your head, his musky smell, his touch, his kisses, just HIM and his mind shattering thrusts as he fills out every spot even you didn’t know about. Your nails and teeth dig into the thick skin of his forearm, scratching and bitting pretty marks into the skin he would worship later as you feel the stupid amount of muscle and veins beneath his skin. 

Little ‘ah- ah- ah~’ moans falling out of you, you can barely hear yourself as Kento fuck’s you dumb, making your back arch in pleasure as your limbs twitch and jerk. You don’t even feel your orgasm, stuck drowning in the feeling of him, until it’s too late and it feels like he’s ripping you apart in the sweetest of ways. 

A wail leaves you as he talk’s you through it. “There we go- there we go. C’mon baby give it to me- yeah, I’m right here baby doing so sooo good for me.” He whispers in your ear as he pins your twitching body down harder, his forearm tightening the headlock around your neck as his other thick arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady on his cock. Not stopping his measured deep thrusts as you sob in pleasure, babbling out dumbly.  You claw weakly at his arm, barely able to kick your legs out as he puts his weight on you clawing feebly at his arm to try to push him away.  “Nu-uh baby.” He growls lowly ignoring your overstimulated cries, nipping pretty little marks on your neck that gets you moaning out lewdly. “This is your punishment- gotta make sure to drain all that energy out of you.”  

It’s a twisted punishment to him, he could never hurt you, he loved you. But he needed to show his love more hands on apparently, and if he could do that as well as making sure you were too tired to even think about running again than how could he not. 

Nanami Kento is a gentleman, what kind of man would he be if he couldn’t make his wonderful darling cum? 

The parrot would’ve gotten me punished cuz I would’ve broke out laughing at that lmao

yan!chrollo is the type of guy to try and make any pets you have love him, only for it to fail horribly. any cats you have hiss at him, and dogs will either growl or hide under tables when he shows up. if you have a bird it might start trying to peck him to death.

it’s funny because he’ll be trying extra hard to make them like him, he sees it that if he can get your pets to love him as they do you, you might be a little bit softer towards him (you won’t).

you find it extra funny when he’s trying to flirt with you, leaning over you with a little smirk only for your cat to come along like a true hero and start tearing at his trousers.

i have this idea tho of when you actually make chrollo mad, finally make him drop the gentleman act for just a second, your pets will know before you do. your cat will dart out of the room, dogs will start hiding and whining, birds squawking loudly etc.

pretty horrifying, actually. you’ll be trying to get under his skin, and from the corner of your eye see your cat’s tail spike up, before it sprints out of the room. huh, weir- and then within a split second chrollo is right in your face, leaning over you with a tight smile, asking you to repeat what you just said.

illumi on the other hand does not try at all to make your pets like him. he allows you to keep them at the manor after you beg and beg, but will not go further than a pat on the head or passively allowing it to sit in his lap for a bit.

despite this, your animals love him. cats will rub up and down his legs, purr, sit in his lap, lay on him etc… i feel cats are more his “thing”, but dogs might wag their tails much more, whine when he leaves etc. maybe your bird starts copying the very few words he speaks.

one day he’ll be looming over you, his aura heavy and eyes even darker than usual.

“run again and i’ll break your legs.”

you’re trembling in fear until your parrot speaks up.

“break your legs! break your legs!”

absolute traitor.

🔞 MDNI | Yan!Gojo x GN!Reader (drabble) 🔞

It's been a hot minute since I've written something yandere. And I just know this man would be the most dangerous yandere.

TW: yandere tendencies, obsession, delusional Gojo, kidnapping, some violence & gore, stalking, manipulation & blackmail, reader gets put into a dangerous situation.

"I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me."

Satoru was a simple man. He often saw something he liked and just had to have it, no matter what. It was always items, though, yet this time it just so happened to be a person. You. He didn't even have to use his six eyes to know you were special. All he did was see you in a café, sipping on your beverage and nibbling on a muffin, and he was hooked. With swift steps he entered the establishment and played it off as being just another customer, all so he could see you close up. You were too caught up with reading something on your phone to even notice his glances every now and then. Oh, he could just snatch you up right here and now if he wanted to, but he decided to wait.

He followed you to your apartment that night. Just a bit of reconnaissance for a little plan he was cooking up. He knew where you lived now and would oftentimes "visit" when you were either asleep or not at home. Satoru got a feel for your dingy, little apartment. The corners of his lips curled upwards as he sat on your couch. There honestly wasn't a piece of furniture in your apartment that this man hadn't touched, and your bedroom was definitely no exception. His hand smoothed out the little wrinkles in your duvet, and his mind wandered to many thoughts. This is where they sleep. This is where they do things.

His smile only broadened when his mind grew a bit more perverse with his thoughts. He thought about what it would be like when he finally had you beneath him. The faces you'd make. The sounds falling from your lips. Oh god, it was enough to make him cum right in his pants. You wouldn't mind, though, would you? If he relieved himself in your bathroom? With your underwear wrapped around his eager cock? His only thoughts being of you. You were none the wiser of the little stains he left.

As eager as he was, Satoru was a patient man. A patient and delusional man whose only thoughts revolved around you and only you. He couldn't even do his job and take care of some measly low grade curses. He'd slip up and get a small injury, but that wasn't what would anger him. It's the fact that they had the audacity to pull him away from his thoughts about you. Any sorcerers watching could tell that their senior had gone a bit overboard with eliminating the curses, but they kept their mouths shut. In fact, they kept quiet about everything.

They knew how delusional that man was. He talked about you non-stop. Gushed over you as if he was married to you. No one wanted to tell him he was crazy. That none of it was real. "No" wasn't really a word in his dictionary. Everyone knew what would happen when he got his hands on you, but no one said or did anything. How could they? He was THE Gojo Satoru. Anyone with half a brain would know not to get in his way when he had his eyes set on something, or someone in this case.

As much patience as he had, it would wear thin some day, and that day was today. Doing another one of his little rounds of stalking following you, he was able to pinpoint the exact days and times you'd frequent that little coffee shop, amongst other places. What he didn't expect, however, was to see some man, some complete stranger, talking you up at a table. Then you laughed at one of the man's jokes. You laughed. Oh, it made Satoru's blood boil so badly that he had to fight himself from waltzing inside and killing that man where he stood. He didn't want to scare you, so he hid in plain sight and waited until the two of you went your separate ways, leaving each other with the promise of a date.

That man would never make it to the date. Satoru knew what he did was wrong, but it felt too good at the moment for him to even care. That and he just couldn't sit idly by and let you spend even a second with someone that wasn't him. Crimson stained his face, hair, and his clothes as he stared down at the torn corpse on the ground. He held no remorse for what he did. In fact, it felt liberating to have ripped someone's spine out. It was as though he was doing you a service. This man wasn't worth your time, darling, trust him. He had your best interests in mind. But he can't deny the pain he felt when showing up to what would've been the date and seeing your saddened expression. Oh dear, you poor little thing. He wanted to swoop in and hold you, comfort you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear to make you feel better, but he knew better.

The interaction part of his plan wasn't ready yet. Satoru still had some things to take care of and a home to get ready for your arrival. He was a calculated man and knew how to sever your relationships with friends and family. He wanted to leave you with no one to rely on so that when he stepped in, well, you'd just have to rely on him then. Right? His plan was flawless. Until you began suspecting things. Satoru didn't like how smart you were, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't attractive. He started treating it like a game now. Could he cover his tracks up, or would you figure him out?

In the end, you never did get the chance to piece everything together. After all, you didn't know him, but he knew you. After two weeks of slowly manipulating your life into how he wanted it to be, ultimately leaving you with no one, he decided to wrap up his little plan. You could see curses for some reason, which he found out on one of his little jobs. This got him thinking shortly after and resulted in him throwing you into a dangerous situation that would leave him being your savior. Or so he thought.

The confident smile fell from his face when you started yelling at him. Why were you doing that? He saved you. Shouldn't you be showering him with your love and affection now? Why were you being so ungrateful? Then you turned to walk away and he snapped. It didn't take much to knock you out, but with his immense strength he had to be careful. Too much and he could've killed you. He wouldn't let this little hiccup ruin his plan. Satoru simply believed you were too high on the adrenaline rush that came from almost dying at the hands of some low grade curses, so he didn't take it personally, and he knew you'd come to your senses once it wore off.

He had a special room at his home that was prepared just for you. His sweet darling. Satoru grinned when you finally woke up, practically giddy with excitement at finally having you here. Though that excitement was short lived when you started yelling at him again. He just couldn't understand why you were being like this. Honestly, he didn't want to use force on you. He didn't want to hurt his precious darling. Instead, he resorted to blackmail. "I wonder what your parents would think if I paid them a visit," he teased, though it definitely came across as a passive threat. Or rather, a promise if you didn't comply. It warmed his heart with how quickly you changed your attitude.

Satoru finally had you. You were his now.

geto having a cute little non-sorcerer wife that he swears he hates.

he only marries you for your father’s riches, and so when you arrive on his doorstep he leaves the maids to tell you where you’ll be staying; the room furthest from his own.

you’ve been instructed not to so much as look at him, but he finds that he hardly sees you, anyway. you’re more like a ghost that haunts the manor than his wife.

most of the time he’ll happen to pass you sat alone in the garden, dressed in pretty kimonos that have most definitely been suited to his tastes. he hardly speaks to you, the only time he has was when the two of you had accidentally bumped into each other when turning a corner.

“watch it, monkey,” he had hissed, before continuing on with his day. he later found himself thinking on the nervous expression and faint embarrassed blush that had adorned your face. he had been tempted to smash his head against the wall to rid himself of the memory, as it plagued him the entire evening.

your father starts visiting and he has the basic decency to at least pretend as though he loves you. it results in awkward proximity and unloving kisses to your forehead, at least until your father leaves.

for some time, geto’s not entirely sure as to why you play along. you could go to your father and ask to leave this loveless marriage, could you not? then it dawns on him; your father doesn’t care, and you already know that. geto doesn’t like how a tiny part of his chest aches when he thinks too hard about that fact.

it’s not as though he leaves you locked up in some basement, withering away. you’re allowed to explore most of the manor, most of your needs can be met by asking the maids and very rarely he will permit you to visit the nearby town marketplace with some guards.

he starts seeing you more. he’ll sometimes find himself out in the garden, pretending that he has any business outside other than to keep an eye on you. he’ll never admit it, but it can sometimes calm him down, just watching you go about your day. to him it’s like watching a pet trot about, not realising their owner is watching with keen eyes. you’re still just a useless monkey, of course.

one day he discovers you crying in the garden you love so much. he’s never seen you cry before, hell, he’s hardly seen any emotions on you.

“what happened?” he finds himself asking before he can stop. you jump in your seat, not having expected him to be beside you.

“nothing, really,” you say, your voice still shaky and your hand wiping away at drying tears, “i’m sorry to have bothered you.”

he frowns, his patience quickly wearing thin. “tell me, now. what happened?”

you sigh, and some part of him can’t help but note how pretty your eyes look, despite the redness around them. he pushes the thought out before it can properly settle.

“my father sent me a letter,” you confess. “he’s… not happy with me.”

he steps closer to you. “why?”

you hesitate, your mouth opening and closing, but the expression he wears has you telling the truth.

“he wishes that i was pregnant with your child. i have told him that i am not, and never will be, and he… well, he’s not happy.”

suguru raises an eyebrow. “never will be… ?”

you blush, looking to the floor. “i know that you hate me. it may be easier for you to have a child with another.”

he scoffs.

“i don’t-“ geto pauses himself. “do you really think i’m the type of man to have a bastard with some whore?”

“w-well, no, but-“

“do you wish to stay married to me?”

you gulp. “no. i don’t.”

he pauses for a moment, seemingly considering something.

“if you give me a child, i’ll allow you to leave. you’ll still be married to me in name, but you won’t have to stay here, and you won’t be tethered to your father.”

your jaw drops for a moment, and then you collect yourself. “will i be able to see the child after i give birth?”

“sometimes,” he tells you. in reality, he doubt he’d ever let you near them, but you don’t need to know that.

“… okay.”

he finds it harder to convince himself that he hates everything about you when he has you beneath him, your ankles on his broad shoulders and your hands pressing against his back. he can’t help but fuck you even faster when hearing you whine and mewl. he wants to lick the expression you have off of your face, but refuses to indulge in the idea.

“su-su-suguru!” you cry. he stills inside you for just a moment. it’s the first time he’s ever heard you say his name. he was beginning to think you had forgotten it.

he grabs onto your wrists with one hand, pressing them above your head and manhandling you into another position, one in which he can somehow go even deeper than before.

he chuckles, low and raspy, “stupid fucking monkey…”

he’s starting to wonder if maybe he needs two kids. maybe four? hm. maybe you do have your usefulness. maybe he shouldn’t let you go, after all.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ NEVER HAVE I EVER, OKKOTSU YŪTA

a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. jealousy. possessiveness. manipulation. alcohol / party scenes. obsession. exhibitionism. never have i ever. switching perspectives. creampie. alcohol consumed but nil effect. maki is drunk. all credits to this anon. previous relationship between reader and noritoshi kamo. violence mention (yandere themes). reference back to their school years. aged up characters. wc, 8.9k.

note. thank you so much to the anon linked in the summary for letting me write this :) i really hope i was able to do such a great idea justice for you ❤︎

the air is warm around you as you sway in the living room, surrounded by intoxicated friends and strangers with red plastic cups in their hands and loud music blasting through the halls of the house.

you’d sat your empty drink down a while ago and hadn’t had a moment to refill for yourself yet, so instead you stay empty handed— although you feel pretty much occupied in your company.

you’re here with your boyfriend, yuuta, and his friends as you stand around with a few of the other people you’re not sure you recognise from his class. but you listen politely, not really absorbing the information as you let your eyes wander the room. although you’re quickly brought back with the press of cold fingertips beneath the hem of your t-shirt, before it’s accompanied by a slow breath exhaled against your throat from behind.

your boyfriend was always particularly clingy in these sort of environments, attached to your side like an extra limb or at this moment, wrapped around you from behind— much like the blanket you’d tuck yourself under every night. the only difference being you’re not comfortable in your own bed and your boyfriend, yuuta, had a certain aura, an energy about him. it was the sort of chill that made goosebumps burst along someone’s skin whenever they’d lock eyes with him across the room, the kind that urged people to look away before that happened — to avoid looking at you before he caught them.

it was like a curse of sorts.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks gently as you feel the cool brush of his fingertips brush higher, smoothing along your waist, his touch is cold as always but it soothes the warm press of your own skin as he leans forward. you feel his lips smear across your cheek as he speaks, almost a kiss — like he’s asking, hoping for one.

“mhm, ‘m good,” you turn to meet him, shuddering beneath the heat of his gaze despite the way warm was never really a word that came to mind whenever you looked at him. haunting, chilling, even unsettling maybe— but the type of look that made you not want to look away. like when the naive, pretty girl in the slasher movie thinks it’s a better idea to go towards the source of a sound in her usually empty, dark apartment than leave entirely.. to safety.

if only you knew those seconds, half-seconds that the line of your gaze connected with his, were the only moments in the day that he felt anything at all.

“are you tired? we can leave if you want,” yuuta asks, almost expectantly, hoping you’d take him up on the offer to lock you back up in his apartment, all for him, away from prying eyes of drunken party goers— away from everyone else if you’d let him. he waits for your answer before he kisses you once and you always thought it was a little unexpected how touchy he could be in public, considering how apologetic and awkward he seemed when you first met.

as always, you feel yourself melt into the press of his lips, into the confidence he always kissed you with despite his demeanour and you’re suddenly warm beneath your collar as his fingers press higher— urging you closer as his tongue swipes along your lips. but before you can continue, to go further— you pull away, maybe a little too aware of the amount of eyes around you despite the way your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all,

“i’m okay, i’m having fun.” you feel his fingers squeeze tighter as you answer but he smiles,

“are you sure? we can—“

“sheesh, i haven’t seen you guys in forever. where the hell you been, hah?” your conversation is cut off by the slur of a familiar voice as it barrels towards you both through the crowds, urging their way between you so they can throw their arms across your shoulders, an arm for each as yuuta begrudgingly breaks away to stand at the other side.

“maki!” you giggle as your friend uses you to keep herself steady— both of you mostly held up by yuuta strength alone. “we’ve both been busy, yuuta’s especially—“

your words are meant innocently, more of a factual response rather than something somber but that alone seems to ignite the fiery spirit of your friend when she’s groaning as it slips off your tongue. suddenly she’s turning to your boyfriend with a tight frown on her features, an expression that he’d grown familiar to seeing— but it’s one he still manages to meet with a smile.

“oh yeah? i hope you’re taking care of my girl, yuuta.” maki growls and you watch the way he scratches at the back of his neck, the exchange reminds you of the stories she used to tell you about the first time they met in their second year. before he was able to stand on his own.

“huh?! i am, i am!” his voice is almost boyish as he responds and you find yourself smiling at the way yuuta seems to relax around people like maki and his other former classmates. you very rarely seen him interact with other people at all when you were together, it normally just being you two— by his choice, because he always said he didn’t like other people taking away his time with you. but you think it’s charming, the relationship he has with his friends and the way they playfully jab and tease him in a way that makes you giggle.

maki ruffles at his hair as she tsks and you think it’s amusing the way yuuta’s eyes are back on you when he notices the way you’re grinning. “you remember what you were like before i took you under my wing, i’m trustin’ you to protect her!” you’re pretty sure he could easily dodge her playful smacks against his chest, especially given the way the alcohol has probably impacted her precision. but you also think it’s nice that he chooses not to, watching him chuckle, maybe a little embarrassed at her words as he waves her off.

“come on, maki.. you know id kill anyone to protect the one i love,” yuuta’s blushing slightly but there’s no uncertainty in his words, instead it’s like you can hear the pure devotion that’s wrapped and woven itself around every syllable when it’s accompanied by the unwavering cut of his gaze.

but still, it doesn’t make maki falter the way it might anybody else— instead she shrugs as her arms unwind from you both to cross her chest. “yeah, yeah. i’ll leave you lovebirds, third wheeling ain’t my thing..” she groans again before she whips around to stumble backwards slightly— balanced again by your boyfriends quick reflexes as he steadies her with one hand. his free hand finds its place at your lower back as he takes a step closer to you again.

“you remember what i said, yuuta! take care of her or else,” you’re laughing, grateful to be able to have someone like maki in your life despite people who may find her to be a little rough around the edges. she was one of the best people you could have with you, you think. she offers you both a smug grin, thumb pointing against her chest as she backs into the crowd, “i’ll be the one to kill you if ya don’t!”

yuuta chuckles quietly as you both wave her off, watching her push her way through the wave of warm bodies that block her path so easily— with a power that was so uniquely maki.

another breath and he’s back on you, just the same as he was before as his body looms into you— draping over you like a shadow as his lips reach forward to smear along your cheeks again. just like before, you turn to meet him— twisting into another kiss that he meets so eagerly, greedily and you rasp softly as he traces across your skin with his finger. he was good at that sort of affection despite how binding it seemed.

“i..i mean it.” yuuta’s words are muffled slightly against your lips, almost drowned out by the music but they’re still so clear to you when they echo in his voice. although they urge you to pull away as you give him a naive blink,

“mean what?”

“what i said.” he answers quickly, like he’s desperate to get back to where you left off, “i’d kill for the one i love,” it’s almost misplaced, the kind smile on his features and the way his eyes soften slightly despite the way something cursed twists in his gaze— his words are spoken like a promise. it makes you feel suddenly cold despite the warm proximity and the stuffy room, too many bodies squeezed together but you catch a chill as you look up at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

“you say that but, isn’t that a little dramatic?” you turn in his hold, blinking up at him as your palms press flat into his chest and yuuta looks at you— intently, all adoring as his own hands loop around your waist to squeeze.

“no,” his voice sounds lower as he answers, chest pressed against yours and you wonder if he can feel the way his answer makes your heart jump slightly, maybe that’s why he clears his throat awkwardly as your gaze holds his. “n-no i don’t think so, because it’s for our love.” his tone feels unsteadier now, like when someone is quickly trying to explain a point, their views, before somebody can interrupt— he needs you to hear him justify his devotion.

“i don’t want you stolen from me, i dont want anyone else to take you away from me. so i’d kill them, so you’re happy with me.. forever.” yuuta’s arms squeeze tighter around you as he speaks, like he’s scared you’re going to break away, although something in your mind tells you that wouldn’t be possible even if you tried. still, he’s smiling— that same warm look that he’d greeted you with the first time you’d met in the supermarket. “that’s why, i’d kill them. i’d do it for you. for us.” the words roll from his lips so easily, like he’s convinced if they’re said in his soft, kind tone— meant with pure love, that it would take away the threatening effect,

despite the way it would make any normal person's blood run cold at the promise.

something tugs at the corner of your lips at the way you don’t take him seriously, your tone a resonant pull as your palms press into his chest through his shirt, “nobody is going to take me away from you, yuu.” he can feel the warmth of your hands on his skin despite the layer between you both.

“i know. i wouldnt let them.” yuuta leans in again, to steal another kiss— to take what’s rightfully his but you don’t twist and curl into him like you normally do. you pull away, and all he can feel is the coolness against his chest where your fingers had been before you tug him towards the couch, pushed into the corner of the room.

“let’s take a seat.”

the next few hours at the party pass by fairly quickly and your boyfriend is closer than ever to you as your thighs rest over his own, his fingers fidgeting and pressing into your skin between kisses and staggered breaths. it makes you feel like a teenager again, steamy makeout sessions on the couch at a party between giggles, but you feel more comfortable now— leaning into him, hidden away in the corner rather than stood in the middle of the room as his tongue binds with yours.

every kiss with yuuta felt messy but purposeful, his hold on you was strong and his mouth was hot— pressing into you, pushing his name between your lips as his cold fingers hook around the back of your neck to squeeze and you melt, everytime he does it, with every exhale he breathes into you.

you’re so lost in eachother you barely notice the way the seats surrounding you begin to fill up quickly, the drunken party-goers lured into the living room as panda and maki act as ring leaders. the booming sound of their voices draws back you and your boyfriends attention, although his eyes remain on you.

you listen intently, albeit a little kiss drunk and drowsy as you press into yuuta— you hear the never have i ever name being dropped and you know immediately what’s happening, finding a giddy smile pulling at your lips at the nostalgia that follows along with the title. you’re familiar with it ofcourse, familiar with the giggles and secrets that the game always seemed to spill— it reminded you of younger times, but you think it’ll be exciting now as maki gives you a wink before pushing the half-full beer in her hand in your direction.

“come on, you’re playing right? can’t do it empty-handed.” she falls down on the other side of the couch next to you as panda stays in his place in the middle of the floor. you feel yuuta nose at your cheek as he explains the rules, urging you for another kiss— to turn back now that he’s acquired an even bigger audience to claim you infront of. but you don’t budge, so he relents as his fingers squeeze at your waist.

“are you playing? i thought you’d want to go home instead, it’s late.” he tries again, another last ditch effort to get you home as it goes over your head. he accompanies the question with the captivating pull of his hands as he squeezes at you from where you’re almost sat on his lap.

another press of his lips and you’re smiling, “yeah, i love this game! you’ve never played?” you reply like it’s obvious and you don’t see the flash of disappointment flash across yuuta’s features because he smiles too. he leans into you slightly,

“w-what are the rules?” suddenly he’s more than eager, albeit in his own awkward way. it’s only normal for your boyfriend to want to know everything about your other loves— apart from him ofcourse. his eyes are on you as you as he asks, gazing up at you like he’s mapping out your features. like he hasn’t memorised them already.

“listen, panda’s explaining them.” and yuuta does, he listens to the game rules while his hands squeeze into your skin, he misses the taste of your lips already— wishes he could have them again. the rules are simple to follow, but he thinks maybe it’ll be his chance to let everyone see the things you both have done together— all of the different ways he’s claimed you, taken you as his own over and over again.

“ah, i don’t have a drink.”

“we can share.” you say it so softly, without hesitation and it makes him feel warm— drawing him in until he’s kissing once at the corner of your lips and squeezing you even closer into his side as he knocks his forehead against your temple softly.

“okay.”

the game starts out innocently enough; never have i ever told a lie, snuck out of my house— but then as you expect, as always it morphs into something a little spicier; never have i ever fucked someone in my childhood bed, fucked on a boat, eaten whipped cream from someone else’s body and with every question, every press of your lips to the beer as you take a drink, you feel yuuta fidget uncomfortably at your side as his gaze cuts into you.

he doesn’t remember this, because it wasn’t him on the other side of these experiences— looking down at you as you lapped at the cream on his body or wrapped up in the comforter of your childhood bed. it should’ve been him, he should’ve been the only one to touch you, to feel you, it wasn’t fair that people have taken what’s his— that they’d taken advantage of you, knowing he wasn’t there to protect you. it wasn’t fair. it hurts. why won’t you look at him.

his hands ball so tightly you can see the tendons, even in the low light. the keen edge of his jealousy was like flint, a spark away from fire.

“baby? we didn’t do that.” the words were expressionless, they carried no hint of anything you could read. you know you hadn’t went over your past relationships with eachother. but he’s looking at you like you’ve burned him, betrayed him as his words hiss from between his teeth— just loud enough to be spoken to you only when you finally turn to meet him. his gaze feels empty, but he blinks up at you like he’s begging you to put him at ease— you’re lying, right?

to yuuta, you were his everything— his only, was it wrong for him to expect the same level of respect, of loyalty from you? hadnt you been waiting for him to find you, to love you. it’s cruel, that’s why he’d told you— he’d promised to kill anyone who’d try to break you apart, he should’ve warned you that the promise extends even more to the people who’ve seen, felt you before him. who’ve stolen what’s rightfully his.

“oh, never have i ever hooked up in gojo-sensei’s classroom?” you shift at that, yuuta feels it— picks up on the way it’s accompanied by the same reaction from the other side of the room and his low-lidded gaze, his instincts follow that movement until it locks on its owner.

kamo noritoshi, they were in the same year at school— albeit noritoshi attended the kyoto campus but they’d met a few times. normally at the good-will festival — yuuta had never found him to be too impressive, the years that he’d participated he remembers beating him, single-handedly— if you could call it that. maybe he should’ve hit him harder, had you already met before that day? because now he’s looking at you, looking at what’s his with such a heat in his gaze that makes something boil dangerously beneath his skin.

suddenly, there was an ache in him, like a rotted tooth. but this doesn’t mean anything not yet, so yuuta presses closer— his eyes are back on you and he watches you, like he’s waiting. like he’s hoping, you wouldn’t hurt him like that, right?

you feel your cheeks burn significantly when your hand twitches, almost in sync with noritoshi’s at the other end of the room as you go to knock back the remaining liquid at the bottom of your cup. it earns you a few hoots and whistles from the surrounding ex-students, your friends— but just as you feel the plastic cup press to your lips, your movement goes no further before it’s stopped by a cool, tight press of something that wraps around your wrist. almost like a plea.

“please, don’t.” your pulse jumps, for a reason that you don’t know when you turn to the source of the voice, the source of the vice grip that’s coiled it’s way around your hand. yuuta has looked at you a thousand times, but theres something different in his gaze, an intensity that you’re not familiar with. your mouth feels dry and you can hear the sound of your throat as you swallow.

“it’s not fair.” his voice was cool, but you see his jaw tighten, just a little. “you didn’t tell me.”

his face twists and almost, you think you see anger and your nerves seem like they sing with the danger of it. you almost reach for him, to soothe him, to reassure him before it can go further but your fingers rest in the air where they reach with his next look. instead, yuuta rises, giving the room a sorry smile before he’s excusing himself—

“ah, sorry— i gotta go to the bathroom.” something tugs at you with his words, just beneath your skin.

“hah? what the hell?” maki calls after him and noritoshi is looking at you both now despite the way your boyfriend pushes into the hallway suddenly. he can sense the shift in the atmosphere and you notice the uncomfortable shift in his form as he seems to sink deeper into the couch. you feel warm under your clothes suddenly, embarrassed— guilty? you’re not sure, but it’s almost immediate the way you find your body pushing up to follow.

you’re driven by the obedience, the love he’s knowingly buried into you.

“i’m gonna go check on him.” you echo a few seconds later, you’re deliberately avoiding the eyes at the other end of the room but you still manage to meet maki’s before you’re turning to leave. she gives you an almost knowing look despite the way her face stays neutral.

“hey!” panda calls but maki cuts him off as she groans, like she’s trying to save face.. for both your sake.

“agh, leave ‘em— get onto the next one, will ya!”

yuuta feels like he’s in a daze as he stalks down the hallway, he didn’t realise you’d known the kyoto students like that— known him like that without him even picking up on it. he’d let him live with those memories, he wonders if he still thinks about you? the press of your soft skin beneath his palms, how far had you gotten? what desk had you used? had he sat at it previously? studied at it? his chest rises and falls rapidly, like its trying to keep pace with his thoughts.

it’s like all of the work he’s done has been erased, your schedule he’s memorised— the people he’s steered from you, the relationships he’s ruined, not knowing that noritoshi was right there. knowing the face you make when your mind is thick with pleasure, was he able to satisfy you the way your boyfriend does? does he still remember how tight your walls squeeze as you cum?

the bathroom door closes behind him and yuuta breathes heavy as his forehead rests against the cool wood. he feels like he’s losing his mind, his progress, his facade. but he listens, he recognises the footsteps that sound a few seconds later and he smiles.

“yuuta?” your voice calls as you push yourself down the hallway, you hope he hasn’t left yet— the idea makes something pulse in your chest, something ache in the space between your ribs because you don’t see the signs, you’re blind to them when it comes to his love.

another step and you can still hear the party raging on in the room you just left, although the hallway is eerily quiet. the floorboards squeak as you go to pass the bathroom and suddenly— you’re moving, pulled forcefully into the room so quickly that you don’t even hear the door open and you go to scream, you almost do.

the movement is so fast it steals the air from you, takes it forcefully from your lungs and it’s almost instinctive the way your arms raise to push at his chest, to push him away. until you realise that the person stood across from you now, was the one you were looking for in the first place. but the door is slammed behind you and now it’s just you two in the stuffy party bathroom. you look at him, there’s something different looking back. you can barely speak.

“sorry, did that scare you?” there was something uneasy about the silence that settles between you both; like a held breath, like the rabbit beneath the hawks shadow and you can feel your pulse striking your skin. the deep blue of his eyes seem to seep into you, to fill your throat to choking. you couldn’t cry out even if you dared too.

“but you came. i knew you would” a tightness he hadn’t noticed was there in his chest— eased a little, he wouldn’t lose you yet. his voice is sweet despite the carnal look he’s giving you, his eyes seem darker in this lighting.

“i thought you left.” finally you speak and your voice rises warm and resonant, sweetly pure. would you have been upset if he did? you would’ve left with him though, wouldn’t you? not that he was ever too far away, not from you, not ever.

“not without you,” he steps forward and something burns hot in you, an impatience, a certainty. like he’s telling you he’s about to have exactly what he wants, you’re about to give it to him. but something in his demeanour makes you step back, to press yourself against the door until he’s over you— caging you there, claiming you like trapped prey. the heat rises up your neck, his fingers wrap over your face and you can smell nothing but him as he curls over you. the push of his lips seem only a second away from pressing into yours. “i’d never leave you.”

“yuuta, what was that back there?” your stomach trembles and a warm drop of pleasure spreads beneath your skin. why do you want more still? you press your palms against his chest.

“i beat him once.” you can’t move, watching. you almost don’t breathe. his face is calm and blank, not tensed with effort like the strain of his voice would suggest but then his words settle and the room grows quiet again despite the music through the door behind you. it feels stuffy, you’re trembling. are you scared? “at the good-will festival.”

he eyes you for a reaction, “did you love him?” the sudden swoop of your stomach, his unsettlingly quiet anger. you were like a fish eyeing the hook.

“yuuta ofcourse i didn’t.”

“baby, i didn’t like it,” your stomach rolls, awash with nerves and relief at once. you drink him in, there’s hurt in his gaze— his bangs fall slightly over his eyes when your own hold them. “i couldn’t think..” his teeth grit and he exhales before he continues, voice returning to something sweet. like his mask slipped, even if only for a moment. “i couldn’t think about you with him,”

“the way he was looking at you.” he goes on and you rasp softly as he draws his fingertips along your jaw before he squeezes, the press of the promise ring on his finger is cold,

“you’re mine. all of you. do you remember?” his voice was warm with desire, you feel it heat across your skin. the strength of your lust, the speed in which it flowers, shocks you. you can’t breathe now but you don’t struggle, any normal person would run— would be able to see the red flags, the warning signs that are so hard to miss but you don’t. not with yuuta, not when he’s staring at you— when he’s already caught you like a wolf with the rabbit's neck between his teeth. “that’s what you said. you promised.” he strokes you with his left hand and your hips lift to the touch, you pull him closer and you tremble.

“i’m yours,” your mouth opens underneath him and the warmth of his throat pours into yours. you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but drink him in, each breath as it came, the needy movements of his lips before his tongue follows.

it’s desperate, messy— yuuta’s claiming you like a dog. the kiss is full of teeth as he grabs at you, presses you even tighter into the door behind you as his body pushes flush against your own until your lungs quiver.

he’d normally much prefer to take you home into the comfort of your own bedroom, so he can take his time with you— pull out as many orgasms as he wants, the ones he owns without interruption. but now, he wants the whole party to know who you belong to, who’s name you moan when you cum and cream and he’ll make sure the walls remember it too. everything he does, he does for you. can’t you see that?

“i-i’m sorry, i can’t wait.” yuuta groans, exhales warm against your lips and you grab at him, your hands are in his hair to pull and he drools into the kiss— sucking at your tongue and pressing his already hard cock against the intimate skin between your thighs. “i.. i need you, baby. please.. give me what’s mine.” his words are a hormone-drunken plea and you’re hooked, drinking them up intoxicatingly— you’d let him ruin you if he asked if that same kind tone. like he hasnt already, for anyone else that is.

“i want you, yuuta. c-cant wait either.” it’s a strong pull as he moves you, but not disorientating, yet you still feel your skin burn hot where his long fingers are pressing through the thin fabric of your clothes. the fabric feels like it moulds even closer to the shape of your figure—almost like there’s nothing between his palm and your skin. he turns you both, almost stumbling across the already small bathroom, but he keeps you upright, stepping back without breaking his lips from yours until you’re pressed against the ceramic sink on the counter in the corner.

“he needs to know,” yuuta pulls away to breath deep, his palms resting against your cheeks, drawing his fingertips along them as he looks at you. “i need to know. to know it’s love.”

“i love you, i love you more than anyone.” he hums and you gasp when he finally kisses you again, cutting off your sentence before it’s replaced with a breathless exhale and he takes the opportunity to dip his tongue past your lips, allowing it to glide along your own as he tastes you.

it’s almost desperate, the way you’re pulling him closer — giving into his thoughts, his own fogged mind, you found yuuta’s devotion to be charming especially when it was coated in pretty words and compliments. he had you bending to his will, playing the part of the perfect girlfriend that he knew you’d be. you only needed him to complete you, to push you in the right direction, to love you.

you feel a coiling pleasure that’s been building tighten delightfully and his hand squeezing your waist only makes it burn brighter. you whimper against his lips and the sound drives him closer, practically pinning you against the small countertop that holds the sink behind you both until it’s squeezing against the back of your thighs.

“you’re so pretty, so warm.” yuuta groans and the deep drone of his voice curls down your spine, you can’t pull yourself away from him—not that it was even a possibility, with the way his strong grip keeps you in your place against his chest. his palms explore the topography of your hips, down your waist and up your thighs from where he’s pinning you onto the surface beneath you. he’s grabbing at you, pulling at your bones like he’ll rip you from your skin— dig through to your heart to have you, to consume you, devour you entirely and bury his love in the deepest parts that remain.

“hurry, please—” you plead against his mouth, breathing heavy with him and he feels sticky at the words, spoken against his lips. he feels his cock twitch and thicken behind his pants, he’s leaking already— heart racing from your touch alone, the kisses aswell. his thumb squeezes into your skin before he’s licking into your mouth; burying soft groans into your throat like they’re honeyed secrets and he’s losing himself in the dizzy spin of the room.

“say it first, for me.” yuuta grunts, almost begs and the kiss breaks wet as he stands tall, taps on the back of your thighs to help hoist you up onto the counter top before you jump eagerly and he’s slotting himself between them. he presses into the heat between your thighs as he almost stutters deeper, he wants nothing more than to sink into you completely.

but his relaxed bangs fall messy over his eyes with his next exhale, low-lidded and convincing. the dark glint in his eyes almost has you in a trance. “i love you, yuuta. have all of me. take it.”

your fingers tangle in his hair once more and yuuta can’t help but continue kissing you when you give him what he wants, what he needs. the hem of your skirt slinks up with his wrists, slender digits squeezing at the fat and muscle it reveals as his hands stroke up your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your legs spread around him and his fingers are trailing closer to where he needs to be most.

it happens so fast, it’s so desperate when you feel him push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed. he drags the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit as he rolls the sensitive bud and you twitch, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt before the wet disconnect of his lips from yours has you whimpering softly.

the pretty sounds you make for him still make him burn.

“you’re so wet. so soft. d-does it feel good?“ yuuta hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, like he knows what you’re gonna say before you even do— he does, because he knows you best, every part of you, every response and twitch. but you nod cutely and he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, almost whimpering when he’s not met with much resistance.

his fingers are long and you hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy when you watch him fall onto his knees between your thighs hungrily. “did he make you feel this good?” he shifts one over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, you know who he means when he gazes up at you from under his lashes. you shake your head almost frantically, panting, you can’t risk him stopping.

“its okay, i forgive you,” yuuta whispers and the words pour over your folds, “because it’s mine now. the sooner you forget about everyone else, the better. they’re not good for you, i’ll give you lots of love, i promise.” he angles his fingers inside of you up with angled purpose, like he’s showing off his knowledge of your body, of the reactions he can pull out of you so easily. but there’s some truth to his words now, he’d intentionally broken you that way— now even the press of your own fingers long to be replaced with his own.

he brushes them against the spongy spot inside of you until you’re slapping your palm over your pouty lips in a sorry attempt to muffle how needy you sound. but that won’t do, not when he’s got a point to prove— what’s his to claim, he needs everyone to hear it. who owns you, who loves you, who’d kill for you.

“don’t do that. i need to hear you, please.” yuuta’s warm breath rolls over your slick folds, it’s a second his eyes break from your own, transfixed and low-lidded with hunger as he watches his digits sink into you. until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up, he’s watching you again when your lips part to moan and it makes his cock twitch.

it’s languid the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, but he licks at the space between your folds like he’s starving— his movements thick with hunger and lust as he gives you another look. one that makes something sharp nip at your spine. you’re not embarrassed at how loud you’re being now because he told you it’s fine, it’s his afterall— it’s what he wants, needs, so it would be rude of you to keep that from him, what’s his— when he’s being so good for you.

the pretty sounds from your lips curl against the small walls of the bathroom and you can still hear the deep bass, the giggles and laughs from the living room despite the lewd squelching from between your thighs, drowned out with yuuta’s slurps and smacks that are currently even louder. if someone were to pass by, they’d know what was going on— who it was considering the mantra of his name that you’re repeating like a prayer. like he’s your god despite the way he’s the one worshipping you.

he continues to sink his fingers into you, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a wet mess between your thighs as he laps it back up and buries his face into you with a loud swallow. every noise is so much messier than the one before, echoing from his chest while your hands grab and curl in the dark roots of his hair to pull. just how he likes, the pain makes his insides almost curl, tremble and shake. he needs more.

yuuta licks into your pussy and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you shake against the counter top. you feel him flatten his tongue against your sensitive clit before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and suckling until butterflies pool in your stomach.

“who are you thinking of?” your pussy throbs around his fingers and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin. your eyes clench tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his dark gaze cuts up into you. you feel him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side. like you’re chasing the friction, begging for him. your actions almost answer the question itself.

“you,” your head lolls forward, but your words don’t falter— your certainty makes something burst warm along the back of yuuta’s neck as he looks up at you. he couldn’t help it, he had to check— had to make sure that you weren’t thinking of someone else as your boyfriend fucked you. it should be only him, always.

“do you promise?” he asks again, just to be sure and you blink— head rolling back when he brushes his fingers against the gummy, sensitive spot inside of you and you squeeze, cry for him.

“yes! i p-promise,”

“that’s good. you’re close, i can feel it.” yuuta tells you, purrs against your folds as he works you with practiced precision. his eyes are still on you despite the way your hips twist under his touch but his body leaves you suddenly and he pulls away to break through the suddenly suffocating layers of his clothes.

“s-sorry, i need to feel you around me. i need it. all of it.” a ragged sound leaves you at his words, as he begs to feel you and it has you feeling drowsy and pliant despite the orgasm he’s ripped from you so cruelly. he quickly reveals the soft planes of his ivory skin, shoving his slacks down just enough for his cock to spring out and smear precum along the skin of your thighs as he draws closer.

yuuta really was gorgeous in his own way, dark hair messy where it falls over his face, his hand sweeping it back before he’s stepping forward and shooting you a lidded, almost sleepy look. it was like another side to him, one that he kept hidden away— like a body under the stairs or a secret. but he’s flushed to the tips of his ears despite the shadows that pool in the depth of his gaze, and you suddenly feel like you can’t get enough air with each breath.

his dark eyes pull like the tide, no matter how you swim against it.

“yuuta, i want to cum.” his smile grows, almost giddy and sweet with how much you want him— the way you rely on him to make you feel good. the way you purr his name and grab at his skin, is this how you act for him alone? but his whole body trembles when your fingers reach forward to wrap around the base of his cock, a plea— you’re begging for him and who is he to deny you of that.

he’s all you’ll ever need, this moment was proof enough. will you let him keep you all to himself? you’d make a pretty centrepiece in his bedroom— locked away in there forever.

“i know, baby. you need me for that, remember? i told you.” you won’t be able to love anyone but me. you feel yuuta grab you in a strong grip before he’s wrapping your thighs around his hips, but any other words are choked upon when the head of his cock finally finds your flexing cunt.

you both gasp as he sinks carefully up inside you, his hands squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his as your back arches. his cock sinks into you slowly despite the need in his movements, it’s like he’s savouring the sweet pull of your body and your cunt, like he’s being lured to his demise by a siren— a succubus. he’d follow you anywhere, he’d wait for you in hell. the length of him curves upwards and feels warm inside of you, gliding so sweetly past the spots along your walls that make your whole body twitch, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.

“you’re always s-so tight.” yuuta’s cool fingers grope just a little too hard at your hips, dragging you along his cock as he forces your walls to spread open for him and he feels something ache deep in his stomach. his desire is heavy in each laboured breath he takes as he tries to keep a firm grip on his composure— albeit it seems to slip with every saccharine squeeze of your thighs and cunt around him. but his eyes remain on you. “always.” the squeeze is like his own little reminder that nobody has touched you since he did last either. he always liked to check. to be sure.

you can only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out. but you only seems to draw him closer, pulling him into you so he can drool and smear more kisses along your features— like the way a dog would appreciate its owner. mark you in his scent. cover you in it, he’d bury you between his ribs.

you’re both sweating hard but yuuta stills feels cold, his touch soothes your overheating skin and it lights a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better. “yuuta, please move!” he feels his toes and fingers curl when you bear down on him eagerly, greedy for it, eager for more of his love. the love that he’s more than willing to pour into you, even if you choke on it.

“s-sorry,” he finally pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you and your pussy squeezes down tight on him in response, like it’s trying to lure him back inside, keep him forever. you’re tightening around each inch you lose as his fingers dig bruises into your hips and he rolls them back into you, beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.

he wants you louder, messier— all his.

a whimper leaves you when you feel yuuta’s head dip towards yours, his body leaning over you to smear a few more kisses along your jawline. he’s working your hips to meet the encouraging pull of his hands from where they’re messaging, squeezing your skin with his bruising grip and you drink it up eagerly.

the pace he’s sent isn’t fast, albeit not helped by the cramped space and the way he doesn’t want to hurt you, but the drive behind each thrust still remains— he’ll make love to you anywhere. always. he can’t be close enough to you, something in his bones wills him closer and he can’t look away— he wants your eyes on him, your heart in his hands, all of you bare. your soul. your entirety.

your body claps against yuuta’s as he kisses over your skin, teeth nipping at your neck hungrily, but determined to leave marks before his lips are gliding along the sensitive spots that have you twitching.

“y-you’re squeezing me, it feels so good. so p-perfect.” he looks at you again, emphasising his words with a few sharp thrusts, before his pace inevitably speeds up, he’s gripping so tight into your skin that he’ll surely leave bruises— he hopes he does. your hips press almost painfully into the cool countertop behind you but he’s bending your body like you’re clay between his palms. he can’t stop, you won’t let him.

“yuu— fuck, faster.“ you finally manage to respond, whispery and choked off, but you can’t deny the physical reaction you have to yuuta’s compliments, as always. your tight cunt bares down tight around him and you both gasp before his breaks off into something dreamier, his pace stuttering as follows it with a few slow, deep thrusts into your doughy pussy.

“i’d do anything for you.” he whispers, like a reminder smeared along your skin— he’d write it in blood if it would make you remember. “only for you.” and you bask in it, want to give back all that you can as he kisses along your face. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of your perfume that’s now mixed with his own scent and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach. “do you know that? everything is for y-you.” every twisted little scenario made to bring you closer. it’s all with your best interests in mind, to keep you with him.

yuuta repositions his feet and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your skin as his—leaving blooming marks between soft kisses along your neck and jawline.

it was always intoxicating to see him like this, to feel him so unfiltered and hungry, digging orgasms out of you like he’s starving— his sexual prowess still catches you off guard, no matter how many times you’ve had him like this. the positions he’s put you in— the places he’s taken you. a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble, as do your lungs like you’re looking over the edge of a cliff. you’re almost blind with pleasure.

“s-so pretty, so pretty.” yuuta tells you, his praise dripping through your rocking body and down your spine and it feels like he ignites something in you— something twisted and dark. he makes your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves. you’re past caring now— but he hopes they hear you. “i won’t let him touch you again. it’s not f-fair. you’re mine. i’d beat him again…. and again, and a-again.” he’s grunting, babbling, words lost and hidden between huffs of your name— pants as he breathes deep. you can barely hear him.

your nails dig into his forearms, pressing as you arch your chest against his own— pushing closer, heart to heart, “g-gonna cum—“ you gasp, lips parting in a pretty o-shape as pleasured tears gather at the corners of your thick lashes. his gaze falters for a moment, from you to your creaming pussy then back to you, and he feels like the breath is punched from his lungs at how pretty you look lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. as always. he’ll never tire of the sight of you— the smell, your touch. he’d recognise you even in darkness.

“look at me, on me, b-baby. please” yuuta’s words slur, scratchy and growly, letting his fingers trace along your sweat slicken skin to roll your puffy clit as he continues to pound against the right spot inside of you. the ones he’s memorised, that only he knows. nobody else would have you like this, so fucked-out, so pliant. you listen, you blink up at him— gaze cloudy beneath your lashes but you’re looking at him and it makes his chest squeeze, burn.

you’re more than eager to give yourself up to him completely after a few more clapping thrusts, arching your back as you whine long and wordless for him. the hot rush of bliss and warmth settles over your skin when you cum, the fluttering press of your pussy throwing you into an orgasm so intense you see white behind your eyes.

“i love y-you, i love you.” yuuta purrs, his cock flexing and it doesn’t take him long before he’s giving in to the needy coax of your cunt and spilling thick and hot inside of you. a low whine rumbles low in his throat as his body curls over yours with a sharp groan—pinning you to the cool surface beneath you as the sink digs into your skin.

the room is now filled with nothing more than your ragged pants as you both try to catch breath, but his body blankets you, he’s still much too pre-occupied pressing kisses to your cheeks and mouth to notice the way you’re shaking beneath him.

“yuuta, come on.” you giggle a few seconds later as the haze in your mind clears, the sound of your laugh makes yuuta shudder— push even closer despite the way you’re wrestling to push him off. you finally separate, peel away from eachother— your faces puffy and half-bruised from kisses.

“are you ready to go home now?” your boyfriend calls soothingly as he massages at your skin, letting your feet dangle from the countertop as he kneads at the skin between your hip and thigh. his eyes are on you as he stares at you, a whisper of a kind smile on his lips.

“okay, yeah. i’m definitely tired now.” you laugh and yuuta’s eyes close with his next smile.

“i’ll stay over. so i know you’re safe.” he helps you to your feet as he brushes down your clothes before fixing his own, pulling your panties back over your pussy before his load can leak out. he likes knowing you’re holding him, full of him— although it makes something in his bones shake at the idea of people seeing him drip from between your thighs instead. maybe next time.

“yuuta you’ve stayed over every day this week.” your words jostle him slightly from his lewd thoughts, catching him off guard so much he almost can’t hide the pout your answer brings from him. you’re smiling, but your words almost feel like a rejection.

“is that bad? i miss you when you’re not there, i get worried.. incase something happens.” yuuta’s hand captures yours as he stares at you but you don’t say anything. “if i stayed forever.. it would be easier.. to protect you, then i’d never have to leave.” the expression you’re wearing is unreadable, not giving him the slightest hint of what you’re thinking and it makes him uneasy. are you leaving him? do you not want him by your side? after all of those times you’ve asked him to be with you forever? were those lies?

if only you knew you’d never been without him, even when he’s not there he is— always, watching, protecting. it’s not hard for him to get into your apartment. you make it so easy.

“i’m sorry, too much? i just don’t want to leave you yet.” yuuta exhales, the space in his chest hurts. put him at ease. for love.

“n-no, no it’s fine. it’s cute. you can stay over.” your hand squeezes his as you go to reach for the door and he moves to let you go first— smiling down at you before the door opens and your lips part to gasp.

“huh? noritoshi?” you’re unaware of how long he’s been standing there but the flush on his cheeks and the sudden restriction in his pants would serve as proof enough if you weren’t already embarrassed. but you feel yuuta lean over you again, like how he was at the start of the night except his attention leaves you this time— his haunting gaze is focused on someone else. he’s like an animal making a show of claiming it’s mate infront of another.

“um…. sorry, were you waiting?” your words are quiet, the encounter is awkward to say the least but noritoshi clears his throat despite the way he’s deliberately looking anywhere but at the two of you.

“ah, no..” he starts, “you text me. you told me to come. i thought you may be in danger.” his phone is in his hand as he turns it to you and you’re there, your number— asking him to do just that.

“i…. didnt.” it doesn’t make sense, you don’t remember the last time you even had your phone, had you left it in the living room? was this meant as some sort of prank? but who would want noritoshi to hear you and yuuta? what sort of twisted prank was that.

“she has me. i’d protect her myself. that’s what pure love is.” yuuta finally speaks after a few moments of silence, his voice is lower than normal— not the sweet tone it takes when he speaks to you. his arms squeeze tight around your waist to pull you closer and you’re still too lost in thought to pick up on the tension between the two men in the hallway. noritoshi swallows thick and yuuta leans forward to press a kiss against your cheeks before he speaks, his gaze doesn’t budge from infront of him as he does.

“baby. we should go.” the petname is soft, back to his usual gentle tone and accompanied by the pull of his hands as he guides you back through the hallway, “excuse us.”

“yeah..” you’re confused— you’re not sure what’s happening as yuuta untangles himself from you to lead you away and suddenly you really are tired, ready to tuck yourself into bed and cuddle against your boyfriends chest. you need a well deserved shower considering how sweaty you feel underneath your clothes. but still, you can’t stop your mind from retracing your steps, you’ve not seen your phone since you got here, you remember texting maki— letting her know you’d arrived… that was the last text you sent… you didn’t bring a bag, had it fallen out of your pocket? you remember you were getting annoyed about holding it… you remember… your boyfriend… offering to keep it in his pocket.

you blink up at yuuta, but goosebumps seem to rise along the back of your neck when you notice he’s already looking back. he smiles, kind, before he squeezes at your intertwined palms as he leads you.

his hand still feels cold where it holds yours.

doesn’t it feel nice to have someone care about you so much?

© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts ﾉ themes.

BRO I FUCKING LOVE HEATHERS SM AND WHEN PPL COMPARE HEATHERS TO HAZBIN I LOSE MY DAMN MIND AND VOX AS JD IS EVERYTHING I'LL EVER NEED IN LIFE

I don't know why, but I feel like a relationship with Vox would basically be "Meant to Be Yours" of Heathers: The Musical. Vox gives me JD vibes if you try to leave him. (I was listening to the Heathers soundtrack while drawing and it popped into my head. That's crazy)

𝙽𝚌𝚝 - 𝚈𝚞𝚝𝚊 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘à𝚛𝚍

⠀ ⠀⠀𝅭ㅤ𝅭ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤㅤִㅤㅤ୨⠀♡⠀୧ㅤㅤִ⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀ㅤ𝅭ㅤ𝅭

the destiny is jealous of us

The Yandere Student Council 

You just needed to get your schedule officialized. Having gained special permissions to take a desired course you needed the student council’s collective stamps of approval to proceed. Normally all you would need to do was slip in the necessary documents. But something seems to keep happening to yours and it just works better for you to do it in person. Thus begins you’re journey of getting the obsessed student council’s approval.

The first one you go to is the one with the easiest access –the Secretary. Gill Hunter has an absolute poker face when his boyfriend isn’t around. So you’re pleasantly surprised when he’s actually willing to hear you out. Keeping his amber eyes on you he listens to your plea for his stamp, seemingly not reacting at all he promises to help you—for a price. You have to step in for him and his boyfriend from time to time. He says it's just a week as he demands you shadow him for the day. Calling to you in his monotone voice to join him in the student council lounge. Don’t bother bringing up you’re friends or your desire to eat your lunch alone. Even as the week comes to an end and you get your stamp he has you working closely with both him and his boyfriend very closely as an honorary assistant.

“Most if not all schedules go through me, you don’t want your schedule being messed up again. Do you?”

The next one is Gill’s beloved–the Historian. June Frimroar is a different kind of person you need to get a stamp from. Where Gill strings you along with his stone-cold face and hardly hidden intentions, June will do the exact opposite. With a smile that flirts with scheming and altruism, he’ll ask for the most innocent kind of help. Only to somehow become something far more intimate and demanding of you in the first place. How else would simply taking notes during student council meetings lead to you smushed in a locker with the historian and his boyfriend? Or how you’ll be forced to help undress June whose hands inexplicably might be sprained? He’s an enigma to loosely associate with trouble, easily put off by how kind he is to you and your friends as you start spending more time with him and the rest of the student council. Certainly, those rumors of him crippling classmates for fun are far from true, right?

“Don’t you trust me, (Y/n)? Just listen to me and I’m sure everything will work out…even if that blackmail situation with your friend is completely separate.”

Like clockwork, you fall into being the student council’s lackey suddenly trusted with helping the seemingly overwhelmed Treasurer. Min Su is an odd fellow who’s been dignified a living legend with his accounting possibilities; rumored to casually be hired by the government a couple of times. So it's odd that he suddenly must have you spending your club hours documenting receipts. He’s so apologetic and jumpy that you don’t feel right questioning him. So it's normal that he has a fierce blush on his face as you take the records from his hand. Or the little noises of excitement pleasure he seems to have when you lean over him to admire his speed as he’s calculating the books. He’s likely to forget that you needed to get his stamp until you off-handedly mention how you’re going to miss him when you get that stamp.

“Oh, you wanted that? I-I’m happy to give it to you, n-no problem! But you’ll still visit me right?”

At this point, your presence is much more normalized in the student council quarters, and naturally, the Sergeant of Arms or more well known as the student council’s hype man is happy to welcome you. Popular beyond belief Roman Ferris arguably has the largest fan and friend base in the entire council. Knowing everything about everyone he already knows what you’re asking for and he’s cheekily telling you he’s already prepared how you’re going to get it. If you thought Gill was forward then you’d be mistaken Roman straight-up demands every weekend that you come with him on a date. Movies, restaurants, ice cream, trips to the park, he’s doing it all with you. Demanding you dress up for these ‘definitely not dates’, hold his hand while you walk, and smile at him only him when you pose for the camera. It's odd how he knows your every like and dislike, always ordering for you and smiling ominously when you ask. But he’s definitely not giving you this stamp if you suddenly stop coming to his dates hangouts, even if he promised he would. It’d be bad if the whole student body considered you a harlot for playing with the golden boy’s feelings. So just smile while you eat your favorites and keep your mouth sealed about your suspicions.

“Don’t worry about it babe, I already know just how you like it! Don’t worry how I know~ You’re so cute when you're well-fed!”

Practically cemented to your unwritten obligation the Vice President is well aware of what you’re after. Spencer Lyle will wait until the end of the day mindlessly stamping your document as he scrambles through his hefty pile of paperwork. Bags under his eyes and his lids dropping dangerously you figure you’ll help him, already familiar with the kind of work he was doing anyway. He thanks you when you eventually wake him up and from then on something sinister a friendship is born. Suddenly he’s coming up to you in your classes, during lunches keeping you talking casually as he leads you to the student council room. You were going there anyway, right? He’s just the perfect friend for you. Great at warding off bullying fans or teachers that get a little too snippy, he becomes your go-to friend. Not too popular but well-respected feared by the student body; totally perfect for relying on him to be relatable. Completely complacent with letting him into your life and it feels so normal now that he rings your dorm bell for an early morning. You know him so well so it's natural he does the same.

“Hey, you ready to go cupcake? Bags under my eyes? Yeah, I was up all night protecting you doing council stuff, you know how I work.”

Last but certainly not least the Student Council President: Lucoa Grander the college’s prodigy cryptid. Known to be a living genius and prominent underground business personality it seems only natural that he gets such a powerful, prestigious position. He is such a celebrity you go to Spencer to deliver your schedule confirmation only to receive a disappointing answer. Apparently, the president’s only willing to stamp yours personally, and thus your witchhunt for the illusive president begins. Searching high and low, stringing on his fan base’s own timeline and the other council members’ accounts you try to find him. But after a while, you give up fully prepared to abandon your desired course to have the blue-haired pierced-up president mysteriously showing up. He greets you so casually, sitting next to you as he asks mundane questions. When you finally ask for his stamp he gives it to you…on a major condition. 

“We’ve been looking to widen our ranks and I’ve we’ve been keeping a close eye on you. And we’re thinking of making you an honorary member–it's a new position to diversify our team. You’ll get your stamp this way and we get you our beloved a new member that’s fair enough isn’t it?”

YAN! MALE SIREN PRINCE

tws: kidnapping, ummm siren’s song is used to aid said kidnapping

this male siren is the eldest. if this is well-liked, i’ll prolly do the other six siblings :D

Keep reading

✧ Yandere Joseph Joestar [JJBA:SDC] Headcanons

This is so long lol. I think it's cause I don't see much yandere/dark content for this version of Joseph, so I wanted to fit in all I could. Anyways, your yandere headcanons, madame. I might have the full fic I've been working on for him ready soon.

TW: Yandere tendencies, kidnapping, non-con, manipulation, age gap

SFW headcanons

☆ 100% takes control of you financially.

It's little things at first, (paying for your dinner, gradually to pitching in on your loans) until you're comfortable enough for him to make the move undetected.

☆ You'd likely forget you were kidnapped because of how peaceful he made the transition.

There'd be no hurting you, dragging you away, or brute force. It'd just be a quiet night where he invites you over and doesn't let you leave. Why would you want to anyways? All your stuff's in the bedroom! He made sure it was all accounted for, too!

There's no need to cry. Joseph will hold you tight until you stop fighting and give in.

☆ Big cuddler, loves touches and kisses a lot. Especially hello/goodbye kisses.

He won't get those cause, yknow, you've been kidnapped. But he still gives them to you.

Even if he has to sandwich your face between his hands so he can get a clear shot to your puffed lips.

"Aha! Gotcha on the lips that time!"

☆ He's raised a family that can function on their own, so I doubt he'd want to start another one with his darling.

He's looking forward to the domestic life of being your one and only. Even if that means cutting everyone else out of your life. It's worth it to see your morning face.

When you're peaceful and don't have that fear brewing in your eyes.

☆ Loves pet names.

Call him baby or hubby and he'll forget what he was mad about.

Personalized pet names? As cheesy as they are expect a million of those.

☆ If you're the more defiant type, Joseph won't completely take violence off the table.

A little punishment here and there will do you some good.

Like leaving you locked and alone in the bedroom for however long it takes you to beg him to come back, it's so dark in there, you haven't eaten.

"You need some time alone to realize how much you need me, sweetheart! This is gonna hurt me as much as it'll hurt you."

Or a more 'active' approach, like bending you over his knee and spanking you until you've apologized for what you've done a million times over and your ass is imprinted with his hand.

You start to think he's doing it for his own enjoyment when he actually starts removing his gloves beforehand.

☆ If you're passive and try to smile and nod your way through it, you'll instead have to deal with his constant touchiness and the libido that comes alongside it.

Joseph's no fool. Play him like one and he'll find a sneaky way to make your plans blow up in your face.

(We're talking about the same guy who dropped 3 vampire super-beings and a god using his wits and strength, good luck outsmarting him)

☆ Escape attempt?

He's not mad, just disappointed.

Wherever you are, he'll drag you back himself and double the locks. Maybe move houses if he sees fit.

Expect a long lecture about how much he cares for you followed up by a spanking so vicious his hand prints are bruised down to your thighs.

Whatever little freedoms you weren't even aware you had are taken away.

☆ Overall, Joseph takes very good care of his darling. Almost like you're a trophy.

He'll get carried away doing things for you that you're fully capable of doing yourself. You're not even permitted to leave the bed if he thinks he's harmed you too much or if you're sick.

NSFW headcanons

☆ Casually comes onto you when you're doing anything. Wanted or not.

You could be reading and he'll wrap his hand around tummy to grind you against his bulge, all while he kisses at your neck and cheek.

☆ Slaps/pinches your butt whenever it's in his view. It's routine at this point.

☆ He won't force himself onto you. Not immediately, at least.

When he loses his patience he'll service you to make it more enjoyable. But progressively get rougher and a lot less lenient with you when you tell him to stop or be more gentle.

☆ Likes having you in any position where he can see your face. Gets him off more to know he's making you whimper and moan while seated on his cock.

☆ Cums inside every time.

He likes the ways your walls flutter and clench around him while you try wriggle away when he's close. Makes him hold you close and ram into you harder.

☆ He likes to body worship you a lot. Kiss every part of you, compliment you, reassure you,

"You're doing such a good job, baby. Yeah, yeah- you look so pretty when you cum for me. You can do it again, can't you?"

Slight exhibitionist(?) Doesn't like having sex in the bedroom exclusively, thinks it's more fun to have you against countertops.

☆ He'll try anything once. If you have needs he'll fill them out.

☆ Doesn't do it often, but he likes to overstimulate you.

You look so cute with your chest heaving, your drooling tongue lolled out of your mouth to make room for more air.

He can't stop himself from eating you out until you go limp.

☆ Joseph loves aftercare. Maybe more than the sex itself.

Even if you try slapping him away or hiding he'll be there for you to help. You can't go anywhere when you're trapped in his arms, anyways.

ur tenma fic was SOOOO GOOD i need a continuation plz maybe when the reader wakes up to tenma trying to kiss the reader ?? or tenma accidentally falling asleep beside the reader ??

✧ Yandere!Kenzo x Reader

I’m so excited- first request! Thank you very much anon 💜 I hope you don’t mind me going with the kissing route, also sorry about the lack of dialogue from reader, I felt like it’d be weird since they just got out of a coma. Enjoy!

TW: Nonconsensual kissing, somnophilia, delusional thinking

Your eyes, they were beyond hypnotic. Beautiful streams of color poured into the centered deepness of your iris’. Now that Tenma thought about it, he hadn’t seen you with your eyes open aside from photos in your records. You were so ethereal as you were, he could only ever imagine an artist capturing you as such. Photos never could do the same justice as paintings, could they?

If only you didn’t look so worried. He would’ve been over the moon that you’d woken up to him and not to anyone else.

Tonight was supposed to be like every other. Return to your room during his break, have some alone time to rehash his day, and read to you.

It just so happened you were needier this week. He’d been busy with the influx of patients in the ward; it was only natural that you’d get upset over being left alone for days at a time when he usually showered you in attention any minute he got. He would never make you shoulder the blame. He too felt the yearning for your breath against his neck during the times he'd rest with you against his chest.

Tenma finally got the chance to make up for all the lost time tonight. —And he may have gotten carried away in kissing you with the intensity of a week's worth of his passion that was bubbling inside him. Your warm cheeks were cupped firm with either of his hands. Completely still, you laid beside him as he gently bit at your lip and desperately peppered kisses from your cheek to your neck. Your face glimmered from the moonlight highlighting particular spots his tongue graced.

Tenma only pulled away to catch his breath. If he hadn’t, he would have never frozen in place at the sight of you, wide-eyed and just a few centimeters away from his face.

For a moment in time, you both paused to just stare at each other in total silence.

Only when the bed groaned from you shifting side to side did Tenma back away to give you space. You sat propped on your shoulders with a strange stinging feeling to your lower lip. Your face felt like it was on fire. And your head- god your head felt like it was swimming with water. The whole time you adjusted your eyes were trained on him.

For once, he was wordless. He greeted everyone recovering under his care if they woke to him. It’s just… this was so much different. This was like he’d broken the spell cast upon his sleeping beauty.

“Are you okay, [Name]? I’m very sorry if I startled you.” He offered a kind smile to calm you down.

You nodded in a vague way that was obvious you weren’t all there quite yet. Your eyes ran down his frame, then took in the surrounding room of blurry white walls and unfocused outlines of beeping equipment. Hospital. You were probably in a hospital. And judging by that coat, this giddy man was your doctor. Looking back at Tenma made you feel strange. He looked concerned. But less for himself and more for you with eyes that pleaded for you to say something. Wasn’t it wrong for this to be happening? Did he not have his mouth on yours earlier?

A force pulling you in flush by the neck against Tenma interrupted your thoughts. The hand moved from your neck to carefully pet your head. Whatever was feeding into your veins through the IV was making you melt at the contact. Suddenly you didn’t have any more questions. All you wanted was for Tenma to keep going.

His smile returned.

“See, you’re okay, darling. Everything’s gonna be okay.” A small squeak huffed out of you at the sudden embrace from your doctor. From how close he held you, you could see a twinkling in the corner of his eyes. The twinkle piling enough to stream down his face in modest, happy tears.

“We’re going to be so happy together. And-” He couldn’t hold back the breathy laughs of pure joy, “when you fully recover, we can get to know each other so much better, [Name]!”

You did nothing but bob your head along with his proclamations of love accompanied by his gentle petting hands. You tucked your chin into his shoulder, drifting in and out of bleary vision, unaware of just what you were agreeing to.

A follow up (yet again) to the Tenma fanfic maybe? One where, you know the reader is fully blown up recover as much mentally than physically and basically break down Tenma desillusions? How would Tenma react, I've been wondering? If you don't want to writte up yet another follow up then I understand, and sorry for bothering you (´・ω・`)

✧ Yandere!Kenzo x Reader

Oooh, thank you for the request, anon! I really like the idea of a soft yandere being confronted. I think the most tension can be had because they'll actually give you room to speak and possibly gain some clarity.

And you shouldn't apologize, you're no bother at all 💗 Tenma in this makes me think of this tweet LMAO (also, if any mistakes are noticed, please tell me. I had to edit this on mobile and I might have more errors than usual)

TW: Kidnapping, stalking, you're really mean to Tenma 💔 (but for good reason)

Kenzo was following you.

You weren’t naive enough to believe it was pure coincidence. But you were optimistic enough to hope he was just finding excuses to check on you after your discharge.

He always fret over you when you were in his care. At least from what you could remember.

It was miserable being so out of tune with your memory from how drugged up you were. The only thing that could effortlessly clear the fog shrouding your brain was the sunny company of Dr. Kenzo.

If you needed the help, you’d be elated. But you obviously didn’t.

It was just becoming creepy how insistent the man had become on finding you and trapping you in conversation.

“How is your head feeling, [name]?

“Oh, do you remember that one time when we spoke in the hospital-?”

“I hope you haven’t been pushing yourself too much!”

“I actually got something for you. Please, accept it as a memory of our time together.”

Every time he held you up, it felt like he expected you to know a shared secret about your time under his care.

The way his eyes darted around your face looking for any shift in your expression gave it away.

You never figured out what that secret was.

Some weeks had passed after he wedged himself into your daily life. Now, he wasn’t just finding you in grocery stores anymore. He was dangerously close in your neighborhood when you’d leave for the mornings. He was a fleeting figure from the corner of your eye at appointments. He was the pair of eyes staring through you when you took walks around the city.

It was scary how he was occupying every corner of your life. One by one each of your save havens became corrupted by his eventual presence.

The only place left sacred was your home. But was it really? It felt as if you were being backed further and further into a corner. Your last hope for protection could possibly be the very cage he’d trap you in for good to keep you as his own.

Your paranoia proved helpful.

Kenzo was knocking at your door. A smile could be seen upon his face through the slits of your curtains. And if you blinked you would have missed it. Behind him was a winding trail of aimless footprints around your yard. Was he casing your house?

Your lip twitched in disgust.

For a moment, you just stood there.

You can’t call the cops on a stalker with no solid proof, nothing would be done. He didn’t appear to be concealing anything.

Ironic how you were cowering behind your door from the same man who saved your life.

In a split decision, you cracked open your door to your eye and nothing more.

Already Kenzo was glowing at the sound of your locks clicking open. Even more so when he got to see a peak of you.

You must still be shy after all your talks. How cute.

“I was worried you weren’t going to answer!” He chuckled, “I saw your car was parked so I decided to check in with you at home.” Expectantly, he stared at the what little glared back at him.

“Tenma, please… I need you to leave. Now.” Your hand tightened around the knob.

His smile faltered.

“[Name], is everything okay? I can go, but I-” He started until you interjected.

“I know you’ve been stalking me.”

A loud silence followed your claim.

Stalking? Is this delusion what’s making you so skittish?

Already you could sense he was ready to defend himself.

“Tenma. Listen to me.”

His lips pressed to a firm line. All the words waiting to spill stilled in his throat at your order. As he relaxed his body, he looked you straight in the eyes.

“This… this isn’t healthy.”

You came to a slow start. You’d never truly loathed someone as much as the person standing in front of you. So it was natural you were revving to tell him off.

He poorly masked the tension in his shoulders. So badly he wanted to stop you and explain everything away. But he knew he could make you understand once you allowed him his turn. Tenma knew you were just a little confused over a few things. He’s seen it in his patients many times before.

It’s his experience that made it easier to handle you.

“Think about it, critically think. You’re a doctor, you’re more than aware that everything you’ve been doing is fucked.”

You couldn’t help the sharpness of your tongue. It was like another person was speaking for you. After months of this behavior, you could finally pry open his eyes he so willingly squeezed shut. Even if it would sting when you’d inevitably replay the moment in your head.

“I wanted to start over and try being friends, but you insist on acting as my lover. So, listen. Because the next time I repeat this will be over the phone with the police.”

You jabbed your index into the cleft of his chest. The peak of your nail punctuated your wrath. Little by little the door opened wider.

“I am not your girlfriend and I don’t love you in any stretch of the word.”

Surely you didn’t mean that.

“You did your job and I’m grateful for it. But I owe you nothing, doctor.”

This has happened to him before, it’s normal to say the worst things you can when you’re blind with anger.

“And if you really do ‘care’ for me as much as you say, then you’ll get out of my life and never make a nuisance of yourself again.”

Your hand faltered back to your side as you glared searing holes through his skull. The grip you had on the door was white-knuckled and chipping the old paint.

If you weren’t enraged you would’ve felt terrible.

His eyes had widened, glossy developing tears sat heavy on the verge of overflowing. Every defense that he could possibly start with died on the tongue that sat in his agape mouth. The same hands that had been trained to keep steady were trembling at his legs.

It felt like you’d stabbed him. Mercilessly gutted him over and over until he was choked up on his own blood.

He loved you so deeply. Why couldn’t you see that? He’ll prove it. He won’t let you push him away when you surely need him the most.

“Tenma.”

Briefly, his expression perked.

“Get the fuck off my porch.”

The door slammed hard enough to rattle its hinges and blow the hair out of his tear-stained lashes.

A hollowness settled in his body when you shut him out completely.

He weakly began to reach for the handle to try it. To pour out his heart and convince you not to leave him alone.

“Darling... ? Please- please don’t do this.”

His voice was low and desperate.

He knew it wouldn’t draw you back out, but it was all he could express from how weak he felt.

His hand fell limp to his side.

Space, you just wanted space is all.

You couldn’t hate him. God, please don’t hate him.

His mind ran silent as he turned to leave.

He needed a drink.

It was a pleasant surprise that your stern warning had been so effective. No gifts had taken up space at your work or home. Your relationships were all going steady. Not even a glimpse of Tenma could be reported at local markets or restaurants. Things had gotten so good you were bold enough to drive past Eisler Hospital without even thinking of him.

In a morbid way, you were grateful for Tenma’s intrusions. Once you’d gotten him out of your life it made living it so much sweeter.

You could have always come to this newfound appreciation of your life in a better way. It was just the best you could take from a bad situation.

After a night out with a few friends you headed home early.

The drinks and banter were fun, but you had work in the morning. You could already hear your colleagues chiding you for showing up exhausted.

You’d long bid your goodbyes and waved off your friends’ boos and hollers for you to ‘have one more drink!’.

It still made you smile replaying it in your mind while you changed. Maybe another night you’d take them up on it.

Just as you finished, you peeped out of your bedroom window.

The moon had such a beautiful gleam against the misty blades of grass in your yard. It broke your heart to mow over and crush some of the flowers that sprung high above the blades. They broke up the monotony of green and always attracted friendly bees.

Now that you thought about it, you hadn’t cut your yard at all this week. It was too rainy.

You leaned in closer to see what had smooshed some of the flowers.

Surrounding the torn petals was a dark indent.

Footprints.

Your blood ran cold.

You slowly backed from the window. But the realization was all too late.

A hand slapped around your mouth. You felt your heart beating wildly as you were pulled into the hold of the stranger and dragged out of your bedroom.

You screamed through their palm and tried your damndest to land a kick or elbow on them.

They only continued hurriedly backing out of the room and folding your body to easier sit in their arms.

“[Name]! I- I know how this seems, but I’m doing this to protect you! Please, you have to stop fighting me so I can keep you safe!”

They pleaded all while manhandling you closer and closer to the back door.

Wait. You knew that voice.

“Tenma?!”

Your shout was muffled from his palm.

“That’s right, it’s me, you can trust me.”

You could hear the sanguine dripping from his voice. After everything he was still elated that you could recognize him.

 For just a second your body stilled at the revelation. And that was more than enough time for him to move you completely outside.

Your final efforts of escape only managed to loosen his grip on you. By then you were already thrown into the backseat.

He had your wrists gripped tight in an instant while he held you down with his body.

“I have a lot to explain to you. But for now, you’ll have to keep quiet, okay? I won’t hurt you. And I won’t let anyone hurt you, darling."

He cooed, his thumb rubbing nauseating circles into your stinging wrist.

What had he just dragged you into?