Yandere Nanami - Tumblr Posts

Title: Loving Care.

Commissioned by the lovely @goddessbitxxx.

Pairing: Yandere!Nanami x F. Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Kidnapping, Use of Vibrators/Toys, Explicit Violation of Consent, Slight Infantalization, and Slight Bondage.

There was a man in your bed.

Well, if this even was your bed. You didn't have the nerve to open your eyes, but the sheets felt all wrong, too starched, too neatly made, and the room you were in was so cold – a chill made just a little worse by the fact that you were in a nightgown too short and too sheer to hold in any kind of warmth, a nightgown you couldn’t remember ever buying for yourself, let alone falling asleep in. Let alone putting on for a stranger you’d never invited into your bedroom, or willingly allowed to take you to his.

And the man – you were sure you didn’t know him. You’d never met anyone so tall, his chin nearly level with the top of your head, or so muscular, his arm heavy where it was laid over your stomach, keeping you pinned to his broad chest despite how limp you tried to keep yourself. One of his hands was on your hip, his grip just a little too tight to make you feel anything but trapped, and the other rested on your thigh, calloused fingertips pushing shallow circles into your flesh. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know where you were, where he’d taken you, how he’d gotten you there. You didn’t know what he was going to do to—

“I know you’re awake, princess. Do you want a few more minutes, or are you ready to talk?”

Fuck.

You didn’t know what you were going to do.

For a moment, you didn’t move, didn’t respond. You tried to keep your breathing even, your body relaxed, but he squeezed your hip and instantly, you jolted against him, both your hands shooting to his wrist out of unstoppable, uninhibited instinct. You made a brief, feeble attempt to pry him off of you, but he only clicked his tongue, only caught your wrists and pinned them to your chest, either ignoring the way you struggled to free yourself from his grip or not noticing your attempts to resist him at all. If there was any strain, if he had to put any effort holding you down, you couldn’t tell. His head dipped, and a tight, thin scowl pressed into the curve of your shoulder, but It was more aggerated than angry, more irritated than enraged. You didn’t know whether to be thankful he didn’t seem to have any violent intentions, or worried that you didn’t know what he wanted from you.

“L-let me go.” Either way, you tried your best to sound just as unconcerned as he seemed to be – firm, but not scared. Like you knew what was going on. Like you were just as unafraid of him as he clearly was of you. “I don’t know you who you are, and I don’t care, but you need to let me—”

“Don’t take that kind of tone with me.” Immediately, you went quiet, biting your tongue and cursing yourself for ever even thinking you’d be able to pretend you weren’t on the verge of tears. Your obedience earned a dry chuckle, a chaste kiss to the corner of your jaw, and it took everything you had to shut your eyes, to keep yourself from recoiling, or worse – lashing out and doing something to make him think you needed to be dealt with more aggressively. “You’re scared, princess – I can tell. But, you don’t have to be scared of me.” His voice was even, steady, and for as little sense as it made, he seemed to genuinely believe it. Yet again, you didn’t know whether to be grateful, or more nervous than you already were. “I’m not going to hurt you. If I wanted to cause you any harm, I wouldn’t have bothered to take you all the way home to do it.”

So, this was his house. Upon further inspection, it looked more like a hotel room; the walls painted an unsuspecting beige, the furniture limited to the bed you were currently on, a dresser along the far wall, and a bedside table underneath a dim lamp that provided just enough light to see by, albeit barely. There weren't any windows, and the only door had a large, grey deadbolt tacked on just above the handle. It felt sterile, harrowingly unlived in. It felt like someplace you didn’t want to be.

After a second of silence, you realized he was waiting for a response. Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, only remembering how to speak when he drummed his fingers against your thigh, making his waning patience clear. “…I don’t even know who you are.”

Another laugh, this one much more blatantly amused than the last. His hand drifted from your thigh completely, landing on your stomach, toying with the thin fabric of the nightgown – which, you realized as you looked down at yourself for the first time, wasn’t a nightgown, but a babydoll, lacy and pale pink and so, so much worse than what you’d let yourself assume. “Nanami.” The answer came breathily, with an unmistakably giddy undercurrent. “Nanami Kento. That doesn’t really matter, though. What actually matters—” He paused, and you felt warm breath fan over the side of your neck, felt a trace of a grin as he pressed his lips into your jugular, this kiss lingering longer than the last. “—is that you’re here, with me, where I can take care of you properly. Where I can made sure you’re safe.”

You grit your teeth, squared your shoulders. “And to do that, you had to…”

“Bring you home,” He finished, when you trailed off, unwilling to say what was actually happening. Unwilling to admit what he’d actually done to you. “I had to. You can’t see it, but the world out there’s too dangerous for someone like you. It was only a matter of time until something very big and something very hungry got to you.” It was worded like an excuse, like a justification, but he didn’t sound very apologetic. If you were more willing to be honest with yourself, you might’ve said his tone was closer to elation than any kind of concern. “But, if I’m going to keep you safe, you’re going to have to behave for me. Do you think you can do that?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. That, or maybe he didn’t want one. His hand fell from your stomach to your cunt, his thumb tracing lightly over your covered slit, and immediately, your self-restraint snapped. You couldn’t stop yourself from thrashing against him, trying to jerk your arms out of his hold as you kicked at his legs and clenched your thighs together. You drove your elbow into his chest, did what you could to get yourself away from him, but his only reaction was a low hiss, the heel of his palm ground into your clit with a punishing kind of force. “Don’t,” He grunted, more out of annoyance than any kind of pain. “I’m trying to take care of you, and I need you to behave for me. Do you understand?”

You didn’t respond, didn’t try to speak at all, continuing to struggle against him to the best of your limited abilities. You opened your mouth, ready to scream, but in an instant, he’d let go of your wrists and forced his hand over your mouth, keeping your head pinned to his chest as you clawed wildly at his arms. If your resistance deterred him, he didn’t seem put off, just letting out a ragged sigh as he leaned to his side, as he fished something out of the bedside table – a pair of leather handcuffs, and then, somehow more concerningly, a pitch-black bullet vibrator, no bigger than the palm of his hand. Your mouth went dry. You went still, and he rewarded you with a distant laugh, just barely audible over the sound of your own pulse now racing in your ears.

“I can either use this,” He started, flashing the vibrator past your line of sight. “or fuck you myself, without protection. If you behave, it’ll be the former, and if you keep this up, it’ll be the latter. Now, are you going to cooperate?”

You didn’t move, didn’t blink. Nanami dug his thumb into your cheek, only growing more impatient by the second. “Answer, or I’m going to make the choice for you.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to relax.

Then, you nodded, and he smiled softly, letting go of you.

“Give me your wrists.” With no small amount of reluctance, you held your hands out in front of you, fingers curled into tight fists, and carefully, with a revolting sort of tenderness, he locked the leather cuffs around your forearms. The chain was short, meant to limit movement as much as possible, forcing you to hold your arms awkwardly up to your chest as his attention fell lower, back to your panties, back to your cunt. You half-expected him to change, now that you were restrained, to get rough, to get violent, but he didn’t, he wasn’t, and it almost hurt more to feel how gentle he was as he traced two fingers over your slit, rubbing a few gentle circles into your clit before pulling away, taking up the bullet, instead. “Try to relax,” He muttered, his voice low and raspy. You didn’t, you couldn’t, but if he cared, it wasn’t enough to stop him. “I promise, I’m only doing this to help you.”

And yet, he seemed content to draw it out, to take long, agonizing seconds to trace the blunt tip over your entrance, over the panties he’d, most likely, slipped onto your helpless, unconscious body after knocking you out with some awful, terrible thing only a monster would be able to get his hands on. The vibration was patterned, prone to rising and dipping and slowing down and speeding up in a way that made it difficult to get used to, difficult to ignore, but you tried to block it out, to shut your eyes and bow your head and imagine you were somewhere else, or failing that, being touched by anyone else, anyone but a stranger, a kidnaper. You tried to, but his free hand came up to your neck, wrapping loosely around your throat. He tilted your head back, coaxing you into resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t force you to open your eyes, but it was enough to have to feel his chest rising and falling against your back, to have to listen to the soft buzzing, muffled by fabric, and know what he was doing to you.

His fingers slipped under your panties first, edging the fabric downward, leaving it stretched around your thighs. You tensed, but didn’t resist as he spread your thighs apart, as he traced the vibrator along your entrance. There was a hitched breath, a muffled whimper, and you did what you could to swallow down both – a semi-successful effort that managed to earn a dry chuckle from Nanami. “See, princess? Doesn’t that feel good?” There was something else in his voice, now, a kind of condescension so much more honest than his prior reassurances. Somehow, that only made it more unbearable to listen to, a feat you hadn’t previously thought was possible. “I’m here to take care of you. You’ll see that, once you let yourself calm down.”

You were calm. You were very calm, considering that you’d been kidnapped, considering that his vibrator was pulsing, now, throbbing like a second heartbeat, and he was pressing the flat edge into your clit, holding it in place was your hips bucked involuntary, as you twisted your head to the side and tried to look anywhere else, to focus on anything else. Of course, it didn’t help. He only applied more pressure, only let his lips ghost over the side of your neck as heat pooled in your core and something awful coiled up in your chest, a spring ready to come undone and puncture something soft and vital.

You let out a scared, strangled sort of cry, more distressed than euphoric, but he didn’t stop, didn’t lessen up. If anything, he only seemed more eager, more determined to hold you in place as your legs twitched and your vision burnt white. He was merciful enough (or cruel enough) to nurse you through it, to only pull away after your body had gone limp and the first pangs of overstimulation had already started to set in. Your eyes were closed by then, but you could hear him switch the bullet off, feel him shift until you were resting against the mattress, rather than his chest, and he was kneeling between your open legs. You stiffened as something warm and wet ran over your cunt (something you tried very, very hard not to think of as his tongue), but didn’t complain, even as he hummed with a disgusting kind of satisfaction, even as his mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh with just enough force to leave a dark, aching mark etched into your skin, by the time he drew back. You didn’t complain. You didn’t say a word.

Or, you didn’t say anything until you felt something blunt and hot press against your slit, until your eyes flew open and you had a chance to notice that the waist of his dress-pants had been edged down, that his narrowed gaze wasn’t centered on your face, anymore, that his cock was in his hand and he was currently aligning the flushed head with your entrance. “B-but—” You were already talking before you could stop yourself, already stumbling over your words. He said he wouldn’t. That was your deal. He said he wouldn’t. “But, I let you—”

“C’mon, now,” Still so calm, still so condescending. You wanted to tear his throat out with your teeth. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. You wanted to be anywhere but here. “I made you feel good, didn’t I?”

You didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to care.

With a smile, he leaned down, kissing your forehead and taking just a beat too long to pull away. “You’re just returning the favor. We have to take care of each other, right?”

You shook your head, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care.

It hurt in a cold, cutting way when he thrust into you, bottoming out before you had the time to do so much as brace yourself.  There was no time to adjust, no gentle cooing or soothing nothings, just a low grunt, the sound of skin against skin, the feeling of his hands on your thighs as he encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist, to participate in your own violation. You didn’t, obviously. Before you had time to think, before you had time to stop yourself, you lurched towards him, intent on clawing at his face, his eyes, anything you could reach. It took nothing for him to stop you, to grab the chain linking your cuffs and pin your arms above you. His other hand was soon planted next to your head, supporting his weight and making you feel all the more caged in, all the more trapped underneath him, at the mercy of his steady pace and his short, brutal thrusts.

With a raspy breath, he sank lower, his lips brushing against the dip of your shoulder before he found your neck and bit down, breaking skin and drawing blood in an instant. You cried out, but the sound was lost to a cracked moan in a moment, as pitiful as it was humiliating. You hoped he would let you go, after this, see he was wrong and unbind you and never make you see his face again. You hoped he would just kill you and get it over with.

But, it didn’t seem like you’d get lucky enough for either ending to come to fruition. He was already pulling away, already straightening his back, already making just enough space between you and him to press two fingers into your clit, to send another spark of unwanted pleasure straight to your core. You did what you could to twist away from him, to do anything to help yourself, but you only managed to make yourself more vulnerable, to leave yourself in a position that just made everything he did to you that much more vivid, that much more intense.

You clenched your eyes shut, jerked uselessly at your cuffs, but he only smiled, seeming to misinterpret your distress as stumbling attempts at cooperation. You felt his breath fan over your skin, his tongue run over the thin trail of blood dripping down your throat, and your heard his voice, too, low but no less piercing than it’d been before, when he cared what he said to you. “That’s it, I—Fuck.” A hitched breath, a short pause. “Just take it, princess. Just like that. Just for me.”

You tried to say something, to curse him out, to refuse, but it was too late – you were already gasping, already clenching down around him, and he was already forcing himself so much deeper inside of you, so impossibly deeper. He didn’t stop, either, not until your cunt was full of his hot, searing cum, not until your body had gone limp underneath him. You just couldn’t hold yourself up any longer, couldn’t bother to pretend you had an ounce of strength left.

You just couldn’t pretend you had a chance of getting away from him.

It was a small, hollow mercy that he didn’t linger for very long. There was a long kiss to your forehead, a few mumbled words of praise, but he’d pulled out before you could really start to wish he would. You heard him stand up, and you tried to roll onto your side, to let yourself forget what he'd done to you, but a steady hand caught your knee before you could close your legs, and with no hesitation, no warning, he eased something inside of you – a glass dildo, judging by the chill, the way it pressed into your walls. You shrunk into yourself, glancing up at him with a hurt expression you couldn’t quite fight off, anymore, but his comfort came in the form of a small smile, a gentle shushing sound – the same kind you’d offer to a child on the verge of tears.

“It’ll just be for a little while,” He promised. Of course, you already knew better than to believe him.

“Just do this for me, alright?”

file #3: the foot fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!nanami kento x reader (jjk)

length: 2.1k.

warning: non/con, fem!reader, oral sex (f. receiving), foot jobs, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of kidnapping, unbalanced power dynamics, and cannot mention it enough: feet.

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up here.

Which was to say, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up in this position, not this physical location – the small kitchen of Nanami’s up-until-recently neglected apartment, back pressed against the rounded edge of a pristine marble countertop and hands clasped so tightly in front of you that your knuckles were beginning to turn white. That, you could explain in fifteen words or less: Psychotic Ex-Boyfriend Kidnaps Overly Trusting Partner To Roleplay Repressed Domestic Fantasies, with further elaboration possible if you ever got the chance to talk to anyone who wasn’t currently holding you hostage. That, as much as you hated it, was normal. You knew why you were here.

It was much less normal to have Nanami on one knee in front of you, head bowed and one of your feet sitting in the palm of his hand. You hadn’t decided whether it was good abnormal or bad abnormal, yet, but still – not normal.

It must’ve been a rough day. He always looked tired when he got home, but tonight, he seemed exhausted – blond hair in a state of styled disarray, tie gone and shirt already partially unbuttoned, the circles under his eyes just a shade darker than they had been that morning. There was a cut on his cheek, too, and a tear along the wrist of his sleeve. Usually, he would’ve tried to get you to fuss over the damage, to trade privileges like a few minutes of T.V. and the latest news about your friends and family and not being handcuffed to his bed whenever he couldn’t watch you himself for sex and domestic labor and the faux-reciprocation of his obsession, but you hadn’t been able to say anything, let alone do anything before he’d fallen into his current position at your feet, his cheek resting gingerly against the inside of your thigh and his pale face slightly pink. He hadn’t said anything, either. You were starting to think he never would.

Unable to find an explanation written on the back of his head, you turned your attention to yourself. You’d been thinking about what you were going to make for dinner when he got home, because cooking meant he had to trust you with something more dangerous than a plastic spoon and you couldn’t go back to not being able to hold your own toothbrush, even if that meant having to trip over yourself to play housewife with your captor. You were dressed for housework, but that didn’t mean much. Nanami picked out all of your clothes, and he liked you in soft, pastel silk gowns and cutesy, garish vintage dresses. Your current dress was far from overly provocative – the neckline above your collarbones, the skirt falling to your knees. He’d seen you in it before, too, and never had this reaction.

The only new factor was your socks, but that would’ve been ridiculous. It was a new pair – a far cry from the thigh-highs and nylon stockings he usually bought for you. The material was thick and white and cottony, only ankle-high with ribbed hems and a lace trip. He was cupping the arch of your foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole, and the plush fabric rubbed uncomfortably against your skin as he shifted his hold ever so slightly downward. More out of reflex than anything, you jerked back, your toes curling downward as you tried to weakly pull yourself out of his hold, and as if pulled out a trance, Nanami snapped up at you, tired eyes weary and lips slightly parted. Your eyes met his, and for a second, it was all you could do to stay still, to stay quiet, to not yell or scream or thrash until finally, Nanami’s weary expression broke into a slight grin, an airy laugh trickling past his lips as his stare fell back to your foot. “They’re… cute,” he started, slowly, nuzzling his cheek gingerly against your thigh. “I knew they would be, but—” A pause, a kiss to the tender patch just above your knee. “—you always manage to surprise me.”

You managed to smile shakily. “Sorry, Kento, I didn’t mean to distract you. Why don’t you sit somewhere a little more comfortable? I can start on—”

“In a minute.” Another hand was brought up and wrapped around your ankle, just above the lace trim of your sock. His forehead settled against your thigh as he lifted your foot gently and with an almost painful sort of delicacy, pressed the sole of your foot into the bulging tent in his pants that you’d been trying so hard to ignore. You felt his lazy grin press into your skin, and something cracked open in your chest.

This time, you couldn’t stifle your immediate reaction; lurching back, your hands finding the edge of the counter as you tried to pull away from him. It took nothing for him to keep you in place, though, and even worse – the ball of your heel pressed into his shaft as you tried to get away, rolling against his cock with a little too much force and drawing a low grunt from the base of Nanami’s throat. Instantly, you regretted moving at all. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

 “Again.”

You fell silent. His head lulled forward, pressing into your thigh, and somehow, you managed to spit something out. “…I’m sorry, Kento?”

“Again, angel, please,” he muttered, his eyes falling shut. You didn’t move, but he didn’t need you to – his hips jutting forward, grinding stiltedly against the sole of your foot. Any vague illusion of wholesomeness was forgotten entirely as he fell onto his knees, unabashedly rutting against your leg with all the shame and all the pride of a stray animal, desperate for its twisted idea of affection. You made a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself, to focus on the white tiles of his kitchen (not quite dirty, but not as clean as they could be, either – you’d have to do the floors tomorrow), then the far wall (there was a layer of dust along the edge of the light switch fame – you could take care of that later on tonight), but it would’ve been impossible not to think about the wet, hot breath fanning over your thigh, the stiff cock throbbing against your foot. You thought would’ve gotten used to his—uh, his unwanted attention by now, gone numb to the feeling of his mouth on your neck and his fingers on your clit, but this was a type of fresh humiliation you weren’t familiar with, the kind of unthinkable debasement that made your face heat-up and your thought spiral down, down, down. When your paralysis persisted, Nanami grit his teeth, rocked your foot against the length of his cock without ever letting his hips stop moving – like he was trying to fuck a hole through your heel. It was a rough, jagged motion; almost clumsy, despite the fact that you’d never seen him so much as trip. It might’ve left you off-balance, if you hadn’t been holding onto the counter so tightly. You might’ve fallen, if you thought that you would be enough to make him stop.

You shut your eyes, forcing yourself to suck in a shuddering breath, but that was a mistake – showing any kind of weakness was a mistake. You felt one of his groping hands on your upper thigh, then your ass, finally finding the thin, flimsy material of your panties and pulling. There was no elegant way to strip you down, so he didn’t try to be elegant. There was a harsh tearing sound, the feeling of blunt nails scraping against unprotected skin, and then, scraps of ruined material were scattered on the floor at your feet, the skirt of your dress pushed up to your waist as he forced his face between your legs, mouth already open and tongue already lapping over your cunt.

It was a bad position; the distance too far, the angle too sharp, everything about strained and awkward and unnecessary, but Nanami didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to care. His tongue ran over the length of your slit before he latched onto your clit and sucked. Instantly, it was too much – a strangled cry tearing past your lips as you buckled into yourself, your knees nearly giving out as another reverberating moan sent pangs of something sharp and electric stabbing into your core. Against your better judgement, your hands shot from the counter to his hair, your fingers soon knotted in a mess of blonde in a futile attempt to pry him away from you. He only melted into your hostile touch, one of his hands remaining on your ankle while the other found your hip, keeping you still and pliable as his attention dipped lower, the flat of his tongue pushing broad patterns into your entrance as the bridge of his nose ground lazily against your clit. “Love you,” he mumbled, his voice little more than a throaty, ragged murmur – almost too deep to be audible and constantly interrupted by the sound of your slick on his lips, on his tongue. You wished he wouldn’t talk. You wished he wouldn’t pretend to love you. You wished he wouldn’t force you to do the same. “You’re so—so pretty, and so perfect, and—”

A guttural moan cut him off, and his attention shifted, his head lulling back just far enough to stare up at you with eyes so soft and so tender, you could almost forget he was humping your leg like a bitch in heat. You were suddenly aware of your own distraught expression – all grit teeth and misty eyes, misery and pleasure flooding through your veins in tandem. You wanted to ask him not to look at you. You needed to ask him to stop, but—

You felt a frigid ache in your left wrist – the wrist he’d kept shackled to the bedpost for the first three weeks of your kidnapping. You tried to open your mouth, but your tongue was deathly dry, your throat stuffed with cotton, the feeling not entirely unsimilar to the residue left behind by the velvet gags he used to shove in your mouth when you didn’t want to lay there and let him break you. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything as he let out a final, primal groan – as you felt something thick and hot soak through the fabric of his dress pants and into your ridiculous, childish socks. He whined into your cunt, fingers burrowing into your waist as he dragged you that much closer to his mouth. His tongue fucked shallowly into your cunt, and a whine caught in your throat as your vision burnt white, as you came unwillingly on his tongue.

You couldn’t do it, anymore. With his hand still on your hip, his cum still searing into the sole of your foot, you collapsed. Nanami caught you before you hit the ground, and you hated him for it. You wished he’d let you crumble to the tile floor, wished he’d just watch and laugh as you curled into a ball and stayed there for the rest of the night, the rest of the week. You wished he’d—

Oh, god, you’d made yourself cry. Nanami let out a breathy chuckle as you sniffled and tried not to wail, kissing your tear-stained cheeks with a gentleness you couldn’t seem to link to the man who’d just cum to a pair of socks. “It’s alright, angel. You can let it out.” Another kiss, this one to your forehead. “Too much?”

You nodded, burying your face in his shoulder. You felt his arms wrap around you, keeping your body pressed into his chest as he pushed himself to his feet. There were a few seconds of quiet, unthinking solace before he lowered you onto your shared bed – a pair of shackles still hanging, unlocked and waiting, from the headboard. Immediately, you scrambled for the nearest pillow, burying your face in the plush material and sobbing openly. Nanami’s comfort came in the form of a wry grin, a pair of hands on your hips, turning you onto your stomach and starting on the buttons of your dress.

As he settled between your legs, his calloused fingertips skirting over your bare skin, you couldn’t help but wonder if the shackles had really been so bad.

Experience.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Kento says to meet him downstairs to get ready to go outside.

Warnings: Yandere themes, past stalking, kidnapping, manipulation, and past violence.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

Last winter, your captor informed you that you would have the opportunity to venture outdoors when the darkness fell, the streets were deserted, and the pavements were sprinkled with salt. Despite endlessly waiting for Kento to stop reading his book and unlock the closet near the entrance, allowing you to slip into your jacket, the awaited moment never arrived. This instance marked the first occasion when Kento inflicted more emotional pain upon you than physical.

It hurt because he promised. Kento had never broken a promise to you before. Never. For better or worse, whether that was promising to buy you a cake for when you were good for a few weeks or promising to slap you across the face whenever he caught you mid-escape attempt. 

You asked him if he was going to take you when the sun had set, the fireplace was lit and your cup of tea had long since become cold. For what seemed like an eternity, his gaze lingered, chilling you to the bone from head to toe. Silence. No answer. You teared up and kept scrambling and muttering begs to go outside even if it was just for a moment or two.

With every one, he shook his head and turned to another page of his novel. After enough, he started to sigh to the rest of them. Soon, you stopped, looking down at your cold feet and shuffling to the kitchen to grab your sweater, as useless as it was to keep you warm in this weather. That was when he spoke.

“It’s snowing.” Kento pointed to the apartment window, and the winter wonderland outside looked more horrifying than hell to you and to you alone. Snowflakes rush to the ground every second, painting the sidewalks and roads a shade of white fit for a traditional bridal veil. “You’ll catch a cold, and you could get hurt.”

You stopped walking and faced him. Tears fell from your eyes then, after so long of being unpunished. Despite the warmth of the flames within the stoker placed by the television, your cheeks felt so stinging that you could have sworn that your cries would turn into icicles that would sooner than later impale your feet. You sniffle, and Kento stands up from his rocking chair at long last.

Old habits die hard and come back to life at that very moment. Impulses, animal, and raw and afraid. You ran frantically, wanting to be anywhere but in the same room as him at the very least. But wherever you ran and hid, he would always find you.

In no time, you discovered your back against the wall, caught between the pantry door that refused to budge and the ever-present figure of Kento. It felt like a repeat of the day you awoke in this place, only this time Kento displayed a touch of kindness he lacked before, back when you bit and screamed and always got tied up or hit with his belt. So, because of this slight development, rather than resorting to violence or depriving you of your fundamental rights, he opted for a different approach–a proposition to be exact. 

“We… can bake something.” He utters his words with a hint of uncertainty. “Something warm. Whatever you want. I just don’t want you to get sick. During the colder times of the month, influenza especially gets passed around as quickly as wildfire. There is also the common cold. Those… and curses. You aren’t strong enough to defeat them. We both already know that don’t we?”

Despite its lack of fairness, the exchange was still a trade, albeit an imbalanced one. So, you think. Things are set in stone already for Kento. He won’t budge. You may as well not try to delay the inevitable. So, slowly but surely, you nod, almost choking up another sob as you do so.

“I… Yeah. W-We can bake something.”

“Good. How about some cookies? It is the holiday season after all.”

Memories of joyful holidays spent with your true family flood your mind, contrasting sharply with the current reality of being trapped by a deranged stalker. As long as this manipulator holds power over you, the chances of reuniting with your loved ones grow increasingly slim. Concern gnaws at your heart – are your family members safe and sound? You can only hope for their well-being.

However, your heart reminds you that it's important to prioritize yourself. Consequently, you decide to proceed and accept whatever you can in the present moment. Whatever you can.

No matter the circumstances, you find yourself trapped in a suffocating grip. It could be the frost, the concern you harbor for your dear ones, or the relentless pressure of Kento's hands gripping you tightly until you're on the verge of breaking. Turning the heat up will only burn your flesh and not melt away anything. You are going to get hurt whether it is used or not.

Never Let Me Down Again.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: You have been acting well, and therefore are now treated well. Kento was proud, then, before he found something under the bed that shattered everything he thought of you, everything he thought of the progress you two were making.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, some infantilization, and implied violence.

Word Count: 600.

*~*~*~*

Kento finally found out where his old satchel went, after hours of looking for it.

It was under the bed frame, behind hastily and messily put shoes, your shoes to be precise. You rarely use them because Kento never takes you outside, even though he promises he will, those vows always break. Just like how his satchel was never worn, which was cheap and only meant to serve as a bag if there was an emergency where he only could pack a few essentials before running off from danger. He often tells both himself and you that it is too dangerous, with curses around every corner whose population seems to be growing more and more each coming day. 

You’re asleep now, just above the crime that you committed. If Kento was not able to hold his anger, his sorrow at this betrayal, he would have shaken you awake already, screamed at you, because he knows that whatever could possibly be the contents of the near-forgotten pouch is not good, especially for the progress Kento thought you two were making.

Like Pandora and the Pithos Zeus had given her, he could not resist the temptation to see what was within.

What came first was packs of dried fruit and nuts. The small ones that Kento gave you for snacking, when dinner time or lunchtime was not too far away, by an hour or so. There seemed to be at least ten, so at the very least there were ten days you pretended to be hungry so you could put them in the satchel when Kento was not looking. After all, you were not allowed to go into the pantry by yourself, Kento always said that he did not want you to mess up the little organized society he made up of cans and other nonperishable foods. What came next was some cartons of sugar-free fruit juice, which made sense as Kento never has plastic disposable water bottles, preferring to use a water purifier that he keeps near the sink for both him and you to use. Both the food and the drinks you kept in hiding when Kento gave them to you as either a treat for a good job with whatever chores he gave you to do or as a snack when you got hungry when Kento was starting to make dinner or lunch or whatever other meal you two ate together. Despite thinking that you two were making progress, Kento now sees that you have lied to him, and that hurts more than the insults that you hurled his way along with the biting and scratches you gave him when he first stole you away.

Kento has always said how he despises liars, and such values are still held up tightly even when it comes down to you and the rotten words that came out of your mouth. He should wash them out with soap, until you are crying and have the urge to vomit, maybe even use the other tools at his disposal to prove that he is not just brains, but brawn too. Due to your actions, the bond between you and Kento has regressed to its initial stage. It is solely your responsibility for this setback, isn't it?

Upon discovering the concealed knife in the bag amidst everything else, Kento resolves to act according to his fury and animosity, aiming to make you regret every transgression and even regret the very day you were born.

Catch a Grenade.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: You should have just left that damn satchel where you found it.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, some infantilization, humiliation/manipulation, and violence.

Word Count: 900.

Continuation of Never Let Me Down Again.

*~*~*~*

“Go.” Only one word, said so coldly yet loud enough to hear it above the stomps of Kento’s clad feet making their way down the hall. “I say this only once.”

The only reason he does not tug you is because he will surely accidentally break your wrist or your arm.

You know this from experience, all without words and all with actions.

“Since you have planned so much, you should have planned for other possibilities.” You cannot see his face because you are facing the corner of the living room, your forehead leaning against one of the walls. You cannot see his face, but you know he is furious, from the tone in his voice to the position he forced you into. He put you in the time-out corner, a corner that you have not been put into since the first month you arrived here.

The walls are a dull marigold and smell of spoiled milk. This corner also has a large white spot that is uncovered by the paint, and so you attempt to push your nose against that instead.

In what felt like months ago, you attempted to tear off the paint out of boredom. Kento was angry, but not angry enough to buy more paint to fix it.

“I do so much for you…” He says, and there is the sound of his armchair squeaking slightly. He must be sitting on it, grimacing. There isn’t any other cause to think about, not when this sound has been the only one you had heard for months, aside from Kento’s tones, the television, and your cries. Yeah. That must be it, you think. “God. What the hell were you thinking? I have work tomorrow too…”

You don’t say anything. You close your eyes and breathe in the only piece of air that does not smell so rotten. You can imagine being somewhere else, doing something else, other than being here, and being forced to stand on your tiptoes against a coat of yellow latex. Anything else.

“Answer.” He demands, and you can hear the soft sound of his right foot thumping up and down on the musty carpet floor. “Or do you want to be in more trouble than you already are?”

Out of instinct, out of a want so embedded within you, to survive, you stutter out some hardly audible words.

“You don’t have any logic in you, do you?” He sounds so disappointed, and your mind goes to the image of him having his arms crossed. “I’m right. Aren’t I?”

Your toes hurt already. But it feels like something is holding you up by your neck and forcing you to stay there. An invisible noose made of fear. An invisible weight in your chest too.

…

“I’m sorry, Kento…” You murmur, sniffling as tears and snot and drool run down your face.

“No, you’re not.” He refutes. You can hear him turn to another page of whatever he is reading.

“Please. I am… I am…” You repeat I am a few more times, feeling humiliated, like just an infant who doesn’t know their place.

A sigh. “Are you? Are you? How do I know you’re not lying, hmm? Again?”

Even the soft carpet underneath your toes feels like a bed of thorns at this point. Everything hurts.

“Please, Kento…! I am…! I am…!”

A whine escapes your lips, like a defeated dog sent off to rest in their crate without a treat: a dog, a mutt, a pet.

“Are you?” Another familiar sound of pages turning. You must have been here for hours at this point, so the thing he is reading must be quite long indeed.

So long.

You can imagine him rubbing his thumb and pointer finger into his brow area in frustration, disappointment, in apathy pretending to be sympathy. “You don’t appreciate what I do for you… Do you?”

You can feel a glare, and the ghost of something squeezing your neck to force more desperate words out of you. “P-Please, I’m-” 

You hear the squeak of Kento’s armchair again.

You feel hands, the same hands that always felt so strong, on your shoulders, and you are turned around with ease. He looks at you, but you don’t look at him. You look at his shirt, his work shirt, still halfway unbuttoned with his tie hanging loosely from the stained collar. You can smell his cologne, although it has almost fully faded away. You can remember tying it before he left for work this morning, he looked so happy that you were behaving so well for him.

You almost scream out thank yous, but then Kento ruins your small moment of happiness again.

“We aren’t done.” You see the book he was reading this whole time, it is thick and red and looks so heavy. The pain on your cheek came so fast that you didn’t even see it move. You stumble back, the back of your head hitting hard against the white spot on the wall. 

You were too focused on the pain, on crying even more, that you didn’t notice the book being raised again.

Body.

Yan Mahito x F Reader x Yan Nanami.

Synopsis: He hasn’t come back yet. It is far past dusk, and you are here sitting in the dark, waiting as you were taught to.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, mentions of violence/not SFW, and major spoilers for late S2 of JJK.

Word Count: 500.

just pretend mahito survived and is still just a silly little gremlin <3

*~*~*~*

The apartment has always been devoid of any color and has always had a musky smell lingering in the air. But things had changed when you were asleep; things like the entrance being cleaner than usual, and that suffocating earthy scent being replaced with something more bitter.

There were flowers on the dining room table when you woke up, marigolds, accompanied by a large breakfast platter. Eggs, toast with butter and jam, coffee, and cherry tomatoes. 

“...” You didn’t yell out anything to see if Kento was around, for he had told you last night he had to leave extra early for his job. You didn’t complain back then, and you still don’t now.

You were happy to be rid of him for a bit. You earned yourself the reward of having the bookshelf in the living room unlocked, along with the reward of getting your sketchbooks and notepads back.

However, as time passed, the joy gradually diminished, leaving behind only a nauseating feeling from your gut.

“...Hungry…” You murmur, looking away from your sketch and towards the clock that hung above the television. “...Seven… He’s late…” You say the words quietly to not alert the cameras Kento put all over the place, especially the one that was right next to one of the lamps. “...Good…?”

The cameras would see your drawing if you do or say anything louder, all of it, with Kento’s head sliced off and on the bottom right corner, having the image of rotting away in damp dirt with x’s replacing his eyes and his tongue sticking out. His arms and legs are in the other areas of the paper, put in puddles of blood just to get all of your anger out before Kento comes back.

But the feeling does not go away, and further into the night the sky goes, the hungrier and lonelier you are. Even though you wish you could miss anyone else, you miss Kento, because despite him being your kidnapper, he is all you can talk to while you are held captive in this apartment. 

You miss him, even with how each slap of his cane felt on your skin. You miss him, even with how every few days he would force your legs apart. You miss him, even with how his threats, while horrifying, also felt quite possible.

You miss him despite everything he has ever done to you. The pain it brings exceeds any words that can capture its intensity. The agony is far greater than everything Kento has ever done.

But then with the sound of the door creaking open, along with the sounds of humming a tune, your heart feels like it has stopped for a few moments. Even though you don’t know who exactly entered, you know that it was not Kento, and that scares you most of all. Your life flashes before your eyes and faster than you can blink, a man with gray hair grabs your shoulder tight.

“I think we’ll be great friends…”

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? 

WHAT IF'S...

Sypnosis: Playboy!char and their what if's after you broke up with them.

Reader is gn.

✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦

Playboy!bf who really did like you at first. But he couldn't stay committed if his life depended on it.

Playboy!bf who feels regret pooling in his gut after you break up with him through text. He did deserve it, he cheated on you after all.

Playboy!ex who can't sleep after the break up unless he greens out.

Playboy!ex who doesn't show up to school the next months.

Playboy!ex who stays up, staring at the ceiling during the night and thinking you.

Playboy!ex who gets hard when he gets high so he films himself jerking off while moaning your name. And he's so shameless about it too. Rutting his cock in his hand, squelching sounds from him. All the while his other hand holds a vibrator on his balls, playing and occasionally cupping them. Then finally he cums with an arched back and curled toes as he throws his head back.

Playboy!ex who will never send you that video after all.

Playboy!ex who regrets his whole life decisions the day he comes to school. You're just so nice and sweet to him, treating him all the same and he can't help but get hard over a simple, probably unintentional praise! So he has to excuse himself to the bathroom just to jerk his weeping cock off while replaying the praise in his head like a mantra.

Playboy!ex who will never forget himself for cheating on you and letting you leave. Because now, he finds himself climbing the window to your room while you're asleep.

Yan!Playboy!ex who has a stolen panties collection, all of which he grabbed while he was leaving your dorm after his little break in.

Yan! Playboy!ex who humps his pillow, while sniffing at your panties. All of this while he fingers his greedy little whole just like you taught him back then. Curling his fingers against his spongy spots and crying out on your used panties, dirtying them with drool and spit when rope after rope of cum leavis his spent dick .

Yan! Playboy!ex who can't fall asleep if he doesn't finger his tight, plump ass to one of the photos he took while you were unconscious or a pair of your panties.

Yan! Playboy!ex who doesn't date anyone else after realizing how obsessed he was with you.

Yan! Playboy!ex who desperately wants to show you he deserves a second chance but is devastated when he finds out you were dating someone new.

Yan! Playboy!ex who takes care of the obstacle of a person by killing him while he was sleeping, making sure it seemed like a 'heart attack.'

Yan! Playboy!ex who is glad you found it in you to keep him as a friend, because now he can comfort you while showing that he is the better choice in the end.

And no matter what...you will be his again.

God I loved that yan!playboy you did! If you could, can I please get another one, this one where the reader is fully aware of what he's doing and is just leading them on, until they finally let him back into their life and get back together? I'm a huge sucker for exes getting back together and growing as people, but this one has a lil evil twist ;)

Glad you liked it! I loved writing this sm♥︎♥︎

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

What if's

Pt.2

You knew. You always knew.

Yan!playboy!ex who is oblivious to the fact that you knew about his little break in's.

Yan!playboy!ex who felt like luck was on his side every time you wear less and less clothing while sleeping when i fact, it was all your doing. You knew about his him coming into your dorm at night, knew about how he jerked off right there and then if he even caught a glimpse of your shown skin.

It wasnt his fault his pants got too tight and he had a boner that bordered on painful! And you certainly werent complaining either. The broken whimpers and slick sound of his hand running up and down his swollen cock or even better-of his fingers pumping in and out of his ass.

Yan!playboy!ex who doesnt know youre quite aware of how his body reacts to your praises. Unbeknownst to him, you knew about his raging boner that showed up right after you called him a simple "Good boy" out of habit, or that you knew about how he had to go to the bathroom to relieve some tension off his weeping dick even though he already came in his pants moments before.

Yan!playboy!ex who was sure you didn't know about how he was the one to kill your boyfriend,when in fact, you did. And while it did sadden/detach you from him at first...you forgave him after a while.

Yan! playboy!ex who loved how you came to his dorm more and more often. One thing you didn't know though, is that he had to rub his cock on the spot you were sat on. He needed you and that was as close as he was going to get on direct contact. ....for now

Yan!playboy!ex who actually cries and sobs when you accept him back into your arms.

Yan!playboy!bf who is afraid to touch you at first, feeling the guilt from his previous actions. So you'd probably have to insist quite a bit...but don't worry! He'll do anything to make you stay!

Yan!playboy!bf who can stay for hours on end in between your legs, it's his favourite! The feeling of your thighs squishing him while he makes you cum is just the best! It has him cumming in his pants more often than he'd like to admit. Moans and muffled groans vibrating through your whole body, letting your legs feel like jelly when he's finally finished. And if you stick a vibrator up his ass? None of you is done without passing out, covered in your mixed cum.

Yan!playboy!bf who loves when you touch him. Pinch his nipples? Moaning mess. Fingering him? Sobbing and cumming so much from both his dick and ass. Riding him? Congratulations, you got yourself a bitch in heat.

Yan! playboy!bf who thrusts his dick in between your cum covered thighs, sobbing from overstimulation while pleading for more. And when you finally graze his tip with your thumb, his dick is pulsing, sending ropes of cum on your hand. Nevertheless it stays rock hard.

Yan!playboy!bf who is a broken, whimpering mess if you suck him off. Probably cums so much too! He'll be gripping the sheets, his legs thrashing around as he tries to hold onto sanity.

Yan!playboy!bf who loses it when you kiss him while he is having an orgasm. He's reduced to a messy, trembling, sobbing state, squirming under your body, moaning against your mouth and almost choking from the lack of air, saliva dripping down the corners of his mouth due to the blissful sensation, unable to reciprocate and just lay there with his tongue plunging into your mouth, eyes crossing and dick throbbing around your warm hand.

Yan!playboy!bf who loves you and basically is a worshipping sinner to a god who's name is unwritten in paper but carved in his mind.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Might turn this into a series cuz I like it. MAYBE.

IF YOU LIKE THESE PLEASE FOLLOW, I CAN AND WILL DO MORE ♥︎♥︎

🥴😩

[CHAPTER UPDATE]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

This is a yandere story, so don't read it if that makes you uncomfortable!

Read Chapter 25 on Quotev! story also available on Ao3

༻story updated: september 7th, 2024༺

Not caught up? Read the first chapter here or on Quotev or Ao3!

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hi do you guys remember that on yandere jjk alpha au fic where the mc is an omega and is very skinny???? like shes an overworked worker that has no friends when she grew up. i remember the characters was gojo, geto, kenjaku, nanami, yuji n sukuna ☹️☹️ pls help me i cant find it im desperate 💔