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#hero yandere
bunny-yan · 6 months
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Hello!! Thanks for sharing your writing with us! I'm a fan of your Hero/Reincarnated Reader story! :D Personally, I find it very cathartic lol
I've read the manga you based your story on a long time ago (tbh they did not give justice to the previous reincarnations AT ALL in my opinion), but do you have plans to expand on why Hero left Reader for each reincarnation in your story? Is there something deeper at play here (on Hero's side or even Reader's side because I think feelings of love or even basic affection would dissipate after the second reincarnation) or is it simply he wanted to play around with others and string along Reader each time? Do you think there will be another love interest that will show up in this current life?
If escape doesn't work, how would Hero react if Reader took their own life instead? And if Reader is successful, would they be "cursed" in the next life to be Hero's childhood friend? lolol
I know it's not possible, but I think it'd be beautiful karma for Reader to fall in love and marry someone else because I feel like that would really kill Hero lol
Sorry for the question spam, but thank you again for your stories and I hope to see more adventures of Hero/Reader! :D
(Btw, how will King fit into all this or was the King/Reader/Hero story a one-off?)
So I do plan on expanding on Tasman's reasoning for leaving Reader behind and you're pretty close to his reasoning, but I thought I'd expand on how the darling would commit suicide in this particular ask. I think it would also be pretty interesting to watch Tasman suffer and be forced to watch his darling find happiness with someone else so def saving that for a future draft!
The Sharing is Caring Series are one-off stories that include two+ yans, but if you're interested in seeing that sort of dynamic I am more than willing to write for it! Hopefully this answered your question <3
TW:Mentions Death, Depictions of Violence, Implied Violence, Suicide, Language, Infantilization, Minors DNI
It began slowly. 
If you moved too quickly he would notice because he caught anything and everything. Watching you was a hobby of his and when you weren’t allowed to leave his sight, it was no surprise that he got good at it. 
You didn’t come on too strong. 
It was hard to imagine he’d have anything other than suspicion if you put on a lovey dovey act, throwing yourself into his arms and professing your love when you couldn’t stand the sight of him the week before. Couldn’t stand his words whether they called you selfish or repeated his desperate love. Couldn’t stand his hands as they grabbed at you, forcing you to comply while convincing himself that this was what you also wanted, you were just too blind to see it. Too angry. 
The goddess knew what she was doing, tying your souls together and to fight a fate as destined as the two of yours? 
It was foolish. 
So you played the fool. 
You let him think that you were slowly coming around to his way of thinking. 
You couldn’t forget the look on his face when you actually apologized in the middle of a heated argument. He was yelling about the distance you were creating between the two of you, telling you that you weren’t letting your love and relationship grow if you were going to continue to treat him like a monster and you snapped an apology in his face. 
It wasn’t sweet and demure, it didn’t even hold an ounce of regret, but it was an apology nonetheless and the last words he expected to come out of your mouth. 
You crossed your arms, looking away from him and when it took him a moment to regain himself, telling you that he was grateful that you were finally seeing reason, you held back the vicious words you wanted to hurl into his face. 
Oh, you loved when his face would twist in outrage or hurt or better yet a mix of the two. 
It meant nothing good for you or for your body the next day leading to the week after but sometimes you couldn’t ignore the momentary satisfaction of letting him know just how you felt. 
But you would endure. You would wait and bide your time for the one thing you’d wanted to do since you’d memorized the number of cracks in each of the four walls, restarting your count whenever he blew his top, taking his anger out on them instead of you. 
Tasman was smart. He was suspicious when the two of you began to argue less, a questioning look piercing your body. 
You didn’t yell until you lost your voice, you didn’t give him the silent treatment, or call him an awful monster, no. 
He was right. 
Yes, you were being selfish for refusing the gift that was his presence.
You were inconsiderate for not thanking him for stealing you away from your life, ruining any chance you had at peace and true happiness. 
He was so right when he told you that he knew what was best for the two of you and that when you denied it, you didn’t really know what you were saying. You were just confused. 
Selfish, inconsiderate, confused. Keeping up the facade was harder than you thought it’d be. 
Whenever he came to you, upset about something you did or some affection you didn’t give, you just mumbled out an apology, going back to doing whatever it was you were doing. 
Tasman felt complex. He didn’t understand why one moment he couldn’t get through to you and the next you understood what he’d been trying to get across so desperately for months. When he finally asked, you told him that you were tired of arguing. You were tired of not being happy. That maybe you had overreacted when he came back. That despite him not being able to get it right for the first eight lives the two of you spent together it would only hurt the two of you further if you continued to bring up the past. You wanted to move on, to start anew. To give the two of you a chance. 
You couldn’t explain the look on his face. 
It was hopeful. It was… something you might have fallen for had you not already come so far. 
It took some time getting used to your willing affection. 
He’d stiffen when you’d lean against him when the two of you were riding a horse to your next destination, not twisting in uncomfortable ways to avoid him. You accepted the meals he brought to you, going so far to make him tea when he seemed stressed. You didn’t stray too far away from the camp and when you did you didn’t throw a tantrum, telling him that he needed to give you space or that he was suffocating you. His hands were hesitant when they touched you but his desire quickly made him comfortable. You no longer sneered or pulled away, you would rest in his arms when he held you. Something he could only dream about the last few months. But his dream were becoming a reality. 
A part of him was suspicious, afraid that this was too good to be true that your behavior was a front to attempt another plan of escape but the other part of him, the hopeful part of him wanted to believe.
You wanted to be with him. You wanted to be happy with him. 
Lost in thought, he smiled when you came over, serving him your usual herbal tea. You said it was meant to relax him, and he’d definitely felt as if he was on cloud nine. Maybe being able to pull you into his lap as he did, was apart of his feeling of floating on air but he didn’t think about it too deeply. 
“Lover?” he began, resting his chin on your shoulder. 
You hummed, your usual response whenever he required your attention. 
What was he going to say? 
He felt like this was good to be true. He felt as if this was all a ruse and that you were hiding something deeper, something more sinister. 
Sure he felt off, but maybe he was just second guessing himself. Maybe everything was fine and he just couldn’t imagine happiness for himself. Maybe it had been so long that it seemed impossible but the two of you had nothing if not hope. Hope that you could finally get it right this time. Hope that you could understand a fraction of the feelings he has for you, even if you couldn’t return them… right now. 
“It’s nothing.” he said after a long pause, heaving out a sigh. “Just promise me something?”
Humming again, he gripped you tighter before saying, “Promise me that we’ll always be together like this.”
There was a short pause, he felt a small inkling of fear that grew insurmountably in the time it took for you to respond, but he let out a breath of relief that didn’t quite ease his worries when you finally said, 
“I promise.”
~*~
Tasman woke up and immediately knew that something was wrong. 
He’d been tired but he’d never felt anything like this. His body was heavy like lead, each muscle refusing to move and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. It took all the strength in his body to blink and when his vision finally cleared he saw shadows dancing across the ceiling. 
His hearing might have been the one sense that hadn’t been impeded because he could hear the familiar song you used to sing when the two of you were younger. It’d been so long since the last time he’d heard it. 
It took a considerable amount of strength to turn his head and when he saw you, sitting in your familiar corner on the windowsill he felt his heart ache to call out to you, but it was difficult to swallow, to speak. 
You stopped humming when you heard his breathing turn ragged. 
Turning around, he didn’t like the unconcerned look in your eyes as you watched him. 
“You’re awake?”
“What… what did you do to me?”
Your expression didn’t change, glancing back towards the window as you pulled your legs closer. 
“I was worried that I’d get caught. I knew you were suspicious, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.”
“What did you do?” he asked, voice lacking his usual seething tone due to whatever you had done. He’d been too close to you for you to make deals with any dark mages. The time and effort it took would be too long, too strenuous and too obvious. 
This couldn’t be magic.
“Did you know the goddess created an entirely new system for your body?” you asked, voice curious as you rested your head on your knees. “It should’ve been obvious. Your body is impervious to the heat, cold, wind, sand, or snow, and most physical and magical attacks do nothing to hurt you.”
You frowned, “It’s unfair. It’s no wonder the demon king never defeated you in any of our past lives.”
Tasman’s breath was ragged. He didn’t want to know. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Answer me.”
Looking at him, he was unnerved with how unbothered you were. “I tested it out. How much poison I could feed you without you noticing before it started having an effect but it never worked. But of course I should’ve figured that lethal doses in regular people would do nothing to you.”
You laughed, humorless and dry as you shook your head. “Do you know the trouble I went to to make sure you wouldn’t pick up on it? And you were too eager at the opportunity of a relationship that you let me do it.” 
“You-You can’t hurt me. Whatever you did I’ll-”
You shook your head, almost disgusted. 
“Tasman, this was never about hurting you.” 
He watched as your feet slid down the windowsill, light illuminating the edges of your body. You took slow, measured steps as you spoke, a whisper of a smile on your face. 
“I prayed to the goddess that you wouldn’t feel it. That there was a chance, that for once in one of my lives I’d get what I wanted.” You felt yourself get emotional as you recalled everything you’d been through. “I waited for you. I wanted you to love me and I couldn’t have it. I wanted a new life and I couldn’t have it. I’ve tried everything, Tasman and you know what I've noticed. You were the reason for every misstep.” 
He tried shaking his head, tried telling you what he really meant what you meant to him. 
“I’m trying, I’ll try just please-”
You shook your head, the humorless laugh almost floating from your body. 
“It doesn’t matter. Do you really think that if you were willing to make things work it wouldn’t have happened by now? In any of our lives? It’s the goddess’s desire that we remain together and yet we can never make it work. You wouldn’t listen to me no matter how much I cried, screamed, protested that this wasn’t right. That you were hurting me.”
His throat was tight with emotion, pleading almost begging in the raspy tone of his. 
“Please, I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what was triggering his senses that something was wrong. It could’ve been whatever you had drugged him with but he had an ominous premonition. 
“You aren’t. If you were, we wouldn't be here right now and I wouldn’t have had to repeat myself so many times.” 
Shaking your head, he finally noticed the glint against the silver metal, watching as it raced before you put the hilt of the blade against your head. 
“You don’t listen. You don’t care what I have to say. I throw tantrums as far as you’re concerned. And the minute I leave you drag me back and treat me like a petulant child, scolding me for leaving your side.” 
You didn’t know if you were talking to yourself or if this was for him but you couldn’t stop. 
“When I want you, you want nothing to do with me and when I want nothing to do with you, I can’t get two seconds without you breathing down my neck.”
“What-”
“I want nothing to do with you and yet I have to force myself to tolerate your existence, tolerate you touching me, choke on the words you force down my throat just for the chance that you’d leave me alone long enough to find the right herb. Just long enough to not notice what I mixed in your drinks.”
His froze in realization. How long had you planned this?
“And it finally worked.” You smiled, coming near the bedside and crouching in front of him. You could see the anger in his eyes up close without fear that he’d lash out at you. 
“How could you do this to me?” 
You gave him a mock pout, cocking your head to the side. “Poor Tasman. It must’ve been so rough getting everything you ever wanted. Everyone’s love and affection, the power of the world at your fingertips, even my love!” For the first time you got angry. “You had my fucking love in your hands and you crushed it. You treated me as if I didn’t matter to you. And I guess at the end of the day, I don’t.” A harsh laugh escaped from your lips as you narrowed your eyes on him. “I’m no hero. There aren’t millions of people who are relying on me to defeat the big bad demon king. There wouldn't be riots in the street if I up and disappeared and there won’t be, because it isn’t the case for you. You won’t disappear. You’ll just keep coming up with new ways to make sure I’ll never be able to escape from you and they won’t bat an eye. Because you matter to people. You matter. Even if you’d abandon them the next day for your own selfish greed.”
“What are you going to do with that?” he asked, understanding his meaning when his eyes looked at the blade in your hand. 
You sneered, narrowing your eyes as you said, “Don’t worry. This isn’t for you.” 
It didn’t take him long to figure out what you meant. 
“Don’t. This is stupid. We’ll just start over and I’ll know. Let’s just work this out and we can-”
Standing, you brushed off your clothes, the gesture nervous as you looked down at the sharp blade. 
“It was never about you.” you said quietly. You gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
He was getting desperate. He couldn’t threaten you, he couldn’t beg or plead or say anything to convince you against this. 
“You promised.”
There was a pause and for a moment he felt that maybe you’d reconsider. That you’d realize that your behavior was hysterical and that you take a moment to calm down. 
“I did and I’ll keep my promise.”
Looking at him, you shook your head. 
“You said it yourself. We’ll just start over.”
The slow realization in his eyes was enough. 
“I want you to live with what you did to me. I want you to know that I'll never let you hurt me again.”
It happened before he could say anything. 
Your movements were sharp and jerky, stumbling after plunging the blade into your throat. 
He felt his soul cry out, begging his body to move, pleading to the goddess that he’d give anything, sacrifice anything if he could just get to you in this moment. He could heal you if you would just come a little closer, but you staggered against the windowsill, moving farther away, staring at him as you began to choke on your blood. 
He watched you suffer, watched your body twitch and fight against the pain, and watched as you finally went still. Leaning against the side of the windowsill, still staring at him. 
Tasman couldn’t move. 
His body wouldn’t listen to him. He felt tears slide down the side of his face as he choked on a strangled cry. 
He couldn’t move. 
He felt the overwhelming, aching desire to cradle you in his arms. To hold you close. To wipe the blood away from your face. To shut your accusing eyes but he couldn’t move. 
Whatever you had given him kept him in a docile state. Kept him still and feeling too guilty to look away from your eyes. Your soulless eyes. He could tell. He felt as if something was missing from his own as he continued to stare into the eyes missing life, the eyes he’d watch fade quickly. 
Too quickly. 
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yanderambling · 1 year
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BRO just binged all ur stuff and i’m obsessed and i saw you take requests,,, so get this: hero from the yandere henchmen story is also yandere for villain reader O.O doesn’t have to be the same reader if u don’t want i just think it would be fun lolol
ahhh i'm so glad to hear that, and this is such a good idea!! this one's a bit short because i'm low on writing inspo and also energy :( but you can always request again if you'd like more ~
concept: Hero!Yandere(gn) x Villain!Reader(gn)
words: ~700
CW: 18+, yandere behavior, violence, masochism, very suggestive, short and not well proofed :)
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Emyr is certain that their feelings for you are completely casual and appropriate.
Of course they get worked up over you, you're their nemesis!
It's normal for a hero to have a nemesis, to focus on one villain above all the others (even in the event that the villain has been radio silent for over a week while countless others wreak havoc on the city, even if they have to ignore all their friends constantly signaling them for backup against said villains; you're planning something, they know it, and it's their responsibility to be ready to stop you!)
And it's normal for a hero to get violently upset when they discover another hero had an encounter with that nemesis.
Just like it's completely normal for a hero to accidentally leave their friend totally vulnerable in deadly combat just days after that discovery.
They're dedicated to taking down a particularly dangerous evildoer, and people make mistakes in the heat of battles; this is all normal.
They don't think it's wrong to get so excited when their call signal goes off (one they had made specifically for calls about you), they're just passionate about stopping evil!
They don't think it's wrong to feel a shiver of anticipation tingle up their spine on the occasions you get the upper hand in battle (it's a stressful situation!), and they chalk it up to temporary shock when they find themself frozen, helpless to stop your weapons (or, god, hands) from tearing into them.
They don't think it's wrong to feel their heart race at the very thought of you, to hear the blood pounding in their ears every time they picture your manic smile or your sweaty, feral form- of course memories of their enemy will spike their adrenaline!
They don't think it's wrong to collect the odd weapons you sometimes forget after fights, to hold them tight in their hands and feel the residual warmth of your skin, to imagine how you might use each one on them, (to use them on themself and picture your disgust at the pleasure they derive from it...).
It's just important to know your enemy, is all.
It's not strange that they spend most nights skulking around your lair, using their super-vision to watch you go about your business through the thick walls, using their enhanced hearing to pick up every shift of your skin against your clothing (god how do you look even more ethereal in your casual clothes?); it's just routine surveillance!
And it's not strange that they set up multiple cameras (hidden with great effort) to catch glimpses inside when they can't be there.
(And it's not strange that they collect all their footage at the end of each day and splice together every shot where you're even slightly indecent, that they watch these perverted montages to get themself off every night, that they constantly have to wipe drool and spunk off their monitor just to catch another glimpse of your sinful body.)
It's not wrong that you occupy their thoughts every second of the day, waking or otherwise.
It's not wrong that they fall asleep every night to the memory of your vicious smirk looming over them in the wake of a rare defeat- in fact, it's motivating to recall past failure, to figure out where they went awry so they never fall into that position again (with your strong legs straddling their body, every muscle tensed against them, your wild eyes locking their gaze to yours as you both pant with exertion, a blade pressed to their throat just enough for them to feel beads of blood trickle down their neck- the only thing saving them from the pressure on their throat and crotch alike being a vigilante group arriving and causing you to make a "strategic retreat").
It's also not wrong that they keep fiddling with the wounds you've given them, pulling and scratching and reopening them again and again until they scar, because they do it for the reminder.
So they can stop it from happening again.
Definitely not so they can pretend it's your fingers digging into their skin, that your sharp eyes are watching in disdain as they moan at the stinging pain, that your cruel smile is hanging over them mockingly while they get worked up over so very little, that you've finally gotten the better of them for good and intend to use them mercilessly for your own desires...
Definitely not that.
...
So, basically, in conclusion: Emyr is completely normal about you.
And will forever continue to be.
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thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3
check my pinned post ~
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yanderenightmare · 1 month
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TW: nsfw, noncon, toxic boyfriend
gn reader
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Thinking abut the type of boyfriend who just shows up uninvited. At your doorstep, ringing your doorbell with dumb flowers in his hands and a dumb smile on his face. And yeah, it was charming the first couple of times… but you broke up with him over a month ago, and he still won’t leave you alone.
He’s never been one to listen, which is one of the reasons you had to break up with him in the first place. Another reason is his tendency to blatantly disregard how terrified he makes you feel.
The bouquet is left on the floor, flower petals trambled into sad, broken pieces. 
The worst part is that he knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—and still, he has the audacity to coo and hush you when he pins you to your bed. “Please don’t cry, please—I’m not gonna hurt you,” 
He’s on the verge of tears himself. In fact, he looks even worse off than you, tortured while listening to beg him to stop—crying, “Puh-please—please don’t do this, please—get off me!” 
But it’s just so unfair—he wants you back so badly. He never agreed to let you go in the first place. It’s so unfair of you. You loved him once—you can’t just change your mind. You belong to him—you told him as much when you were together. You’re not allowed to take it back. Vows are binding.
“Please don’t cry—I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you—I would never—I love you, I love you so much, I can’t stop.” He keeps vowing, licking your face and sucking your cheeks free of salt, lapping it up as you weep.
Beyond desperate and heaving for breath, you still use all your strength trying to tug your wrists loose from the strong fist keeping them pinned—but to no avail. Only left choking on your cries while feeling his other hand wander about between your trembling thighs.
“You said you were mine…”
“No, please—please don’t, please!”
But he doesn’t listen. 
He’s stuck between hating you for not loving him back and hating himself for not being able to let you go. He’s always been so selfish, but he just can’t seem to help himself. 
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BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Hawks, Mirio
JJK – Gojo, Yuji
HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins
DS – Zenitsu
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dr3c0mix · 4 months
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OK HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME O-
Yandere knight thats all stoic and stuff but is very open about loving royal!reader
Like this bitch will scold you for leaving his side for 5 minutes, you need to stay near him! Not wander around carelessly!
Hes brutal and ruthless but you bring out that spark of kindness in him
Yan CEO is back on the table, either secretary darling who he denies all feelings for even though he shows a l o t of favoritism towards them or rival ceo darling who he wants to hate but THEYRE SOooOO hOt!!!
Yan emperor and concubine reader? Idk whether i should make him utterly bratty an whiny or zesty✨ like its either “please please please marry me i promise ill give you anything you want plea-“ or the embodiment of the word tease
Yan villain OH MY GOD HES SO SKBDWBJDSNJSB BUT LIKE idk if i want the reader to be a villain as well or a superhero
OHMYGOD ALSO yandere gang x reader where darling finds themself somehow saving a gang of thugs and they instantly fall for them and want to make them their boss, they are on their hands and knees to serve you! You can rule half of the city with them!! Theyre kinda dumb but theyre very very sweet
Also thinking of making a multi yan fic with a neko reader just because <3
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aajjks · 14 days
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tw/ hórny èx bf, tôngúè fückïng, orál sèx (fèm!rècíèvïng) ovèrstïmulúlátïôn, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.
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It’s hard to break up with someone like him because he doesn’t get the hint- it’s been barely 6 days and he finds himself right in front of your door.
Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.
He bangs on your door- at first he’s gentle, but then he finds himself losing his patience when you don’t open up after a few bangs at your door, even with the bell It’s not working.
He just might have to be a little bit more aggressive with it. See now, he doesn’t like being aggressive with you. He knows that you hate this side of him. That’s why you broke up with him in the first place.
It’s not really a break up to him though because you’re just trying to break and he thinks that this break has lasted way longer than it should have in the first place. So he takes deep breath, and he starts banging at it like a maniac.
“Yn! YN OPEN UP!” But you don’t. You’re really trying to test his patience and then you try to lecture him on his aggressive nature.
His pupils are dilated at this point, he’s feeling so crazy right now, it’s aching and his pants, and he has missed you like crazy-staring at your pictures is not enough anymore. Not at all.
It’s your fault, you know.
It’s your fault that you’re so beautiful and that you have his heart in your hands… he closes his eyes for a moment, and then he takes out the spare keys he had to your apartment-of course, you don’t know about them, but he had a locksmith make them for him.
Without any rational thinking- he unlocks your apartment with ease.
And soon the familiar scent of your home hits him and your ex boyfriend finds himself relaxing, his head feels a little better now. “Yn!~~~” he calls out your name with affection but you still don’t respond.
Weird.
So he decides to check if you’re home. He really hopes that you are because he needs to talk to you and… a lot of other other things.
First to fall of course it’s gonna be your bedroom, his feet, take him to the familiar room so easily, because he remembers every single room in your home, like the back of his hand.
And to his surprise? He hears the shower running. A Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his lips. But before he can think anything else, the shower drops sounds come to a halt.
Oh, so you must be done..
He waits- by sitting on your bed and waiting for you to come out, and he doesn’t have to wait long, so he unzips his pants, creepy? He doesn’t give a fuck.
He needs to fuck you and get you back. He has everything you ever want. Quite frankly, you can be ungrateful. Anyone would kill to be in your place… but too bad he wants you.
And there you are, in all your wet glory-with a towel loosely wrapped around your body, you gasp, expected, in surprised to see him, he smirks.
Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to scream at him, he doesn’t mind you can because he’s missed your voice a lot.
“Hi baby.” He greets you. Licking his lips, because he feels himself getting harder when he stares at your soaked, freshly washed body.
You look so sexy like this I can’t help but remember all the times he would fuck you senselessly in the shower or sometimes when you were done with it.
You’re just so irresistible. You get him so horny for no reason at all. It’s your fault and now you’re going to have to help him out.
“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You finally say something to him, even though you’re screaming at him like a maniac, he doesn’t mind.
“I can’t help it baby you know I love you and I can’t live without you-and I’m so horny right now.” He licks his lips again, getting up from your bed to walk towards you.
He needs to touch you right now.
“I told you you couldn’t break up with me but you thought you could.. so I just wanted to give you a little break, but I think it has lasted enough now I need you back.” He groans. You smell so good even his muscles are pulsing.
His eyes are you like a predator and You should know that you cannot escape.
He is way too strong for you.
“Come on now- look at me? I’m so fucking hard because I was thinking about you- and look at you.. fuck…” he breathes out, taking you by your waist.. but then he gets another idea.
So instead of holding you, he drops to his knees.
This is gonna get you so weak for him.
“Let me eat your pussy. Missed it so much.” He looks into your eyes when he grabs your legs. You barely manage to hold onto your towel, which was about to fall. And something switches in your eyes.
You have missed him too.
He smiles. “I bet you missed me too. Fuck- baby let me have a taste please- I’m doing this to make it up to you. I know I pissed you off, so let me make it up.” He breathes, slowly, removing the towel and he starts to tease you by rubbing his hands over to your clit.
You whimper, you’ve always been so weak for him.
He knows you need him-equally as bad as he needs you. And he’s going to make you realize it tonight. He leans his face closer to your cunt, and you grab his wide shoulders for support.
“Oh look at you baby- you’ve already started to get wet.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your thigh, and then his kisses get closer to your heat, “f-fuck. You’re so fucking bad for this.” You moan out. He knows that you’re trying to reject him still even though he knows what your heart and body really want.
Him.
“I know yn.. but fuck- you’re my bad habit.” He replies before he takes one of his fingers out of your pussy and he smashes his mouth into it- his tongue starting to eat you out.
“Nghhh fuck.” You moan as he starts to tease you again with his teeth- he’s so messy right now, all sloppy as he pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper.
That’s how you like it.
His mind is in a frenzy because the noises you’re making are purely sinful- your towel gals to the ground and your back arches.
He won’t let you fall.
He will make you cum in his tongue.
“Ugh fuck..” he groans as he eagerly laps at your juices, you’re giving him so much.
And he knows you’re already going to cum.
“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.” You command him and grab on his locks- that arouses him anymore- you taste so fuckin good.
He can kill anyone for you.
“O-Oh fuck- baby cum on my tongue- you can do it.” He praises you- his hands on your ass as he squeezes it, you pull on his hair.
His teeth graze your clit.
“Should I fuckin bite? Since you’re so *pants* fuckin mean to me? Nah.. I love you..” he barely manages to speak because you’re suffocating him and you’re going to cum.
“You can *pants* only cum of you come back to *pants* m-me.”
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BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku
JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna
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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months
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Part 2 🖤I made the demon king a black man. I don’t see many Yandere POC OCs 🖤
Yandere Head Canons:
Defying Destiny
Yandere Demon King x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero (mentioned)
TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, stalking, uncomfortable themes, sexual themes, Somniaphilia, Dacryphilia, etc.
Part 1
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You woke up wrapped in the silk sheets of snow unfamiliar bed. Your eyes wild and your heart raced in your chest like a startled animal. Where were you and where was Reinhardt?! Why were there candles everywhere in this dark bedroom? Was Reinhardt planning to… oh god you were terrified.
You felt a sob rack through you when reality set in. Had Reinhardt stolen you away to live out some sort of sick fantasy instead of going through with his quest to slay the demon king? No… Reinhardt wouldn’t bring you to such a luxurious home. But who on earth brought you here?
“I see you’re awake, my delicate flower.” Your head snapped to the doorway to see the silhouette of a large man. You felt your blood run cold and a shiver run down your spine by his presence. That raspy baritone voice belonged to a stranger.
You flinched when the man suddenly slapped his clawed hands on the end of the king sized bed. Your eyes met gold for the first time and you seeped your heart stopped in your chest from pure terror. There was no mistaking who your captor was… he was the demon king.
“What’s the matter, saintess?” He chuckled as he reached a taloned finger out to hook around a strand of your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks when he flashed his long fangs at you. He was bewitchingly beautiful with his burnt umber skin and golden eyes. There was no doubt he was a demon and that fact terrified you. What did he want from you? Was he… was he going to kill you?
The demon king sighed at your shivering form before he moved himself to sit beside you. His hand moved to hold yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You sniffled when he began to wipe away your tears. “W… what?”
“I’d never hurt my saintess.” The demon king gave you a toothy smile. “My beautiful, merciful saintess… my salvation.”
You gasped when he brought your right hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it. “It’s so wonderful to finally have you here with me… you’ll be safe here.”
“I’m just a bit confused about all of this…” You felt so small under his intense gaze, like he was about to pounce on you at any second. “Who are you and why have you taken me?”
The demon lord chuckled as he rose up from the bed to stand at his full, intimidating height. His curved black horns nearly added another foot to his height which made he give you a smirk. “Why I am the Demon King but you can call me Amon.”
The demon king- no, Amon, bowed his head to you. “And I took you to save you.”
You were surprised to see a tray of freshly made food in front of you when Amon snapped his fingers. Your stomach growled at the delicious sight, but you were hesitant to accept… Amon quickly caught onto your hesitance and took a bite of the food for you. “Don’t worry, it’s real and completely edible. Only the best for my saintess.”
You shyly took a bite and smiled at the taste. It was lovely…
Amon smiled warmly at you, his golden eyes studied your satisfied smile in pure joy. He was so happy to please you!
Amon ran his talons through his long black hair with a smile. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re safe here.”
As the weeks melted into months, Amon kept his word. None of his demon nor monster henchmen were mean towards you, unlike the hero’s party. Sure Amon was never far from you, but his company was much preferred over Reinhardt’s. Amon would bring you meals and made sure you had fresh clothes. He pampered you like a beloved pet.
Though it was never officially stated, you were Amon’s lover. And thus, you treated as such by his subjects. They’d wait for you on hand and foot. You received various expensive clothing and jewelry, they were eager to make you smile. It was such a stark contrast compared to your treatment prior…
You often gazed out your window at the volcanic city below. It was fascinating just how different monsters and demons lived from humans… so why did the humans want to destroy them so much?
You jumped when Amon entered the room to wrap his muscular arms around your waist, his nose pressed onto your shoulder. A few of his box braids tickled your skin. “I missed you so much… I just wish the humans would leave us alone. I grow tired of the hero and his party. They’re so much weaker without your barriers and healing. To think they never treated you well. What a bunch of losers.”
You turned to gaze at Amon in interest. “What is it that they’re after? Why do the humans hate your people so much?”
Amon gave you the softest of smiles, a bit of his fangs peaked out from under his lip. “Our magic stones. Monsters and demons produce enough magic stones to fuel humanity for eons… they’re worth a lot of money to humans.”
Amon pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his gold eyes stared expectantly up at you. “You’re the only human to ever question their greed and motives. You don’t wish to be bound to a destiny thrust upon you by the world.”
Amon bent down on one knee and pressed his lips over your palms and fingers. “Join me. Together we can defy our destiny. You don’t have to be a Saintess forced to marry the hero and I won’t have to be a page in the history books.”
You felt a blush on your cheeks when he tilted his handsome face at you. “Let’s watch the world burn together.”
And now you had a choice to make. To fulfill the destiny predetermined for you or to defy your destiny.
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suiana · 10 months
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yandere hero x gn reader x yandere villain
"I love you."
"More than this country?"
"...I'm sorry."
You had expected this. Really. I mean, it would only be right for one person to die if it meant the lives of everyone else! Thus it would only make sense for a hero to sacrifice that one person, even if it was his lover. He couldn't be selfish, no. He had to place priority on everyone else. After all, that was the way of the hero.
Besides, there was a saying that a hero would sacrifice you for the rest of the world. You should've known better.
Yet you couldn't help but wish he would forget about his title of a hero just for a second.
You know how much being a hero was to him, you really do! Why else would you patiently wait for him to come home everyday to patch up his wounds? Why would you encourage him whenever he felt like a shitty hero? Why would you do what you did if you didn't understand? You loved him wholeheartedly, even if he didn't reciprocate it much.
However, it felt like you had made a mistake by choosing him as your lover. You should've left him when you had the chance. Caring more about the lives of civilians, he had stood you up on multiple occasions just for the sake of justice. You get it, you do! He's a hero, he's meant to help others. You can't be selfish and get mad at him when he's doing his job and not wasting time on a date with you! You tried to be accomodating. Tried to be understanding.
But he was still your lover.
He should've at least tried to make an effort. Not everything was meant to be about saving others when your relationship was on the verge of breaking. Yet you had never once gotten mad at him for his lack of attention and love, for you loved him with all your heart.
You tried to be delusional, that he would at least treasure you enough to not give you away to anyone else. If he didn't spend much time with you, so what? At least he wouldn't give you away! I mean, he did say that he would never allow anyone else to have you. He would at least honour that promise, right?
Wrong. He gave you up only after a minute of pondering. Oh... Your poor heart. Your poor, poor heart... You couldn't fathom what he had did, not in the slightest. Maybe it was a mistake? A slip of his tongue? You looked at him for comfort only to realise that he had meant what he had said. His guilty and crestfallen look was more than enough to tell you he had truly meant it. That he meant to gave you away.
You were absolutely heartbroken, devastated at the revelation. Clawing at his chest, screaming at him to take back his words, yet to no avail as he avoided your gaze. You felt more than betrayed by him.
You tried to understand his thoughts, his point of view. It was a rational decision. The world known villain had just threatened to blow up the country if he didn't hand his lover over. It was the right decision. But you just wished he had done anything to fight against the villain's demand. He was a hero after all and you were a civilian! He was supposed to protect you!
So why did he give you up so easily?
That, you could not understand. So all you could do was beg for him to reconsider. To hear him tell you that it was just a joke and that he would beat up the villain. Just like what he used to do. But nothing came from him. Only the quiet silence of someone who had already made up their mind.
"Well I guess I'll be taking you now darling~"
The villain suddenly chimed in as he tried to pull you away from the hero. His cold fingers gently tracing your bare shoulders sent shivers up your spine. You shook your head, still clinging onto your beloved hero's shirt as you wept and screamed at him to do something.
But nothing came.
"Please-?! Don't give me away! Don't you love me?!"
"I do... I really do love you."
"Then why are you giving me away so easily?! Is... Is this country more important than me?!"
No response.
You wept harder as you hit his chest, screaming at him to try and protect you against the villain who was amused at the sight before him. He retracted his cold hands from your shoulders, instead putting them in his pants pockets as he hummed softly.
"I'm sorry."
Your breath hitched as your lover softly pried your hands off his shirt. His shaky hands gently holding yours as his lower lip trembled. You could only stare in shock and hurt as he slowly handed you over, looking up at the villain in shame.
You wanted to laugh, you really did. But all you could muster was soft weeping as the villain gently cradled you in his embrace. You wanted to push him away, to curse at him and run back to the arms of your lover. But was it all worth it? The hero had already showed no intention of resisting the villain's demand.
You stared up at the villain with teary eyes, flinching at his touch as he stroked your face tenderly. Yet you couldn't help but lean into his oddly comforting touch that soothed you.
"What a shitty lover he is. Hah! Don't worry baby, I'll never do something like that to you~"
He cooed, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. This... You had never seen such a look from the hero. Even when he claimed to love you, that you were the only person in his heart.
Your heart skipped a beat, face turning slightly red as the villain them scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style.
This was nice... It made you feel wanted, feel loved. Something that the hero you loved could never give you. Maybe you should just give in already. At least you knew he would never give you up.
For there was a saying that a villain would sacrifice the world for you.
part 2
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lolita-lollipop · 4 months
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Iron
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YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER
The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?
WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)
He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.
It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.
Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.
That was, until you came along.
Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.
“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.
He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.
“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.
He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.
The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.
He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.
That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.
He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-
What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.
“It's her, the traitor!”
“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”
“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”
You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.
He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.
Red red red red red red red red red
He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,
Red
He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted
Red
He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red
He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.
You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.
You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die
Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.
But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.
“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.
“Don’t you worry baby,
I’ll take good care of ya”
———————————————————————
Cute
Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.
Love you all, make sure to have a great day!
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Why Do People Like Yanderes?
Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.
TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.
Introduction
If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).
It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.
Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?
Hybristophilia
‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):
“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”
In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.
However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:
Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them
If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.
Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.
(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)
After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”
But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.
Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.
The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.
The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.
Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?
The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)
It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.
PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.
But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.
In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.   
Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?
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I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?
No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.
This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.
So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.
When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.
While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.
Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.     
Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)
Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.
In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?
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If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”
Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.
Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.
Conclusion
In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.
Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below
REFERENCES
Bivona, J. M., & Critelli, J. W. (2009). The Nature of Women’s Rape Fantasies: An analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents. Journal of Sex Research, 46(1), 33–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490802624406
Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191
DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545
Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123
Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212
Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture
Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.
Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf
Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092
Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.
Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101
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dabislittlemouse · 4 months
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❝𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝘿𝘼𝘿𝘿𝙔’𝙎 𝘽𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝙁𝘼𝙉.❞
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Dabi x Endeavor fan!Reader (+18)
SYNOPSIS : Dabi finds out that his beloved pretty girl is actually an Endeavor fan. Let’s just say, he doesn’t take it lightly~
WARNINGS ‼️: yandere!Dabi , stalking, smut, humiliation, noncon, unprotected sex, Dabi uses his quirk on you, bruises/marks/abuse
A/N: this fic is dedicated to @yanderenightmare , for the Secret Santa event. I hope you enjoy this, I’m a big fan of your work and I was more than thrilled to write this for you. ♡
MASTERLIST
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Two months.
That’s for how long he had been around you. At first it was just small glimpses of him on the street, quite too often on your way home, but you didn’t think of it much. Or the times when he’d casually be in the same coffee shop every morning, his jacked zipped and hood covering his face, wearing sunglasses as he stared at you from across the corner. Though he would show his face only during the nights, the beauty he radiated left you breathless, the scars and staples that decorated his face had your eyes popping out of your sockets. He intimidated you, but you couldn’t deny that he was irresistibly handsome. The raven haired man who finally approached you one day and introduced himself as Dabi, he captivated you entirely.
He had set his azure eyes on you this entire time, stalking you on your way home, learning the time when you go to work and come back, your favorite shops and bars, and he would follow you and admire you from afar. Dabi was not a man who would let such distractions mess with his life, but you…
You were a beautiful distraction.
Some fun wouldn’t hurt, right? He knew his main goal, and you were by no means a threat to his plans. How could you? Pretty little thing walking down the street with no care in the world, not knowing the danger lurking nearby, the villain chasing after you. Dabi picked on all your habits, your favorite drinks or food, the people you met, and being good at gathering information and studying people he had already set his mind to make you his. Your charming personality felt like a cure to his dark soul, your beauty was a sight for sore eyes. He was not one to know what love feels like, and he sure as hell knew that he didn’t love you. All he needed was to possess you, the fucked up part of him wanting to have you and break you, make you miserable just the way he is, only to fix you again in any shape he wanted to.
But all he needed was time, time for you to trust him and let him in your life, and once you got to know his true self, he’d never let you go.
Though what he didn’t know was your true self either. Or mostly, what you’d do behind closed doors. Dabi knew your apartment, which floor you lived in, but he didn’t break in. Yet.
And in fact, there was no need to break in. Your little naive self invited him to your home for dinner, a small gratitude since the other day he beat up two guys down the street who were following after you.
“Thank you so much Dabi.. I honestly can’t even imagine what would happen if you weren’t here!” You trembled in his arms, hugging him tight. The two thugs were laying unconscious on the ground.
“Could never leave ya unprotected, dollface” Dabi patted your back, smirking at the way you clinged to him, to your saviour. Little did you know he was in fact, worse than those thugs. After you left, Dabi went back to the beaten up thugs, almost wanting to step on them.
“W-We did as you said! Now give us the reward!” one of them shouted.
“Silence.” Dabi said sternly. “You touched her more than I actually ordered you to. Did ya really think you’d take advantage of the situation huh?”
“What are you talking about?! I swear we didn’t-”
Their talking was interrupted by the scorching heat that melted off their skins, screams of agony and death echoing in the alleyways. Dabi nonchalantly walked past their corpses, leaving behind the wretched scent of burnt flesh, one he was now too familiar with.
And now here he was, in front of you door as your cheerful face appears, letting him in.
“Mm, smells nice in here” he says, walking in your dining room. “You really look good in that apron, like a pretty little housewife. Y’really did all this for me~?”
You blush at his comment, knowing that tonight you gave it your best to cook something delicious just for him.
“Well.. yeah..as a way to thank you, enjoy yourself!”
“Oh, I will enjoy myself alright..” he grins, looking at your figure from head to toe, licking his lips.
The dinner was on the table but your sight made him salivate more than the food itself. He had the urge to tear those clothes off your body and bend you over that dining table, fucking you from behind ruthlessly. The waiting game had him edged for long enough, and Dabi had run out of patience. In one way or another, you would end up with your legs spread for him tonight. Either if you wanted it or not.
As time passed by, you both finished eating, where Dabi praised your cooking skills, claiming he’d never eat something as delicious as your homemade meal. It made you feel giddy, his compliments always making you squeal in your seat.
“Y’have a nice home” Dabi says, wandering and looking around. “Real cozy and decent compared to the shithole I live in…”
“Glad you like it, I was in fact planning to uh..” you mumble shyly. “To have a sleepover tonight.. maybe watch a movie or two..”
A sly smirk formed on Dabi’s face, because both you and him knew where all of this would lead to. He’s been waiting for this moment in anticipation, not that he couldn’t take you by force. Though he enjoyed the chase more, when you finally go willingly to him.
“Sure thing doll, sounds fun” he says. “Which one of these is your room?”
“It’s the one at the end of the corridor, on the left!” you answer, fixing the table. “Please don’t mind the mess, haven’t had much time to clean my room today”
Funny you think I’d mind some mess, Dabi thinks to himself, remembering the kind of places he had to spend his days while he was on the run. The thought of entering your room, your personal and safe sanctuary, has him a bit excited. Would it be like one of those pink girly rooms full of plushies and cute stuff? For sure he’d love to fuck your brains out while you clinged to your plushie for dear life.
A few seconds passed and you heard nothing but silence. You thought Dabi would be throwing comments here and there once he entered your room.
Then you remembered.
As embarrassment crept up your face, you left the kitchen and headed to your room. Dabi was standing there, his eyes focused on that certain Endeavor poster you had put in your wall.
“Um..okay this is awkward” you scratched your neck, laughing nervously. You didn’t talk much of your interests or your idols to other people, preferring to keep them to yourself.
“Yeah that’s Endeavor, he’s actually my favorite hero, he is really strong and inspiring. I’m a big fan of his, sometimes I like buying his merch and stuff..”
Dabi remained quiet, not saying anything in return. His silence was making you worry. His eyes shifted towards an Endeavor plushie you kept near your bed. His hands were itching, he flexed his jaw and turned towards you. He had a dark look in his eyes, the smile on your face faded quickly and suddenly you felt scared. You’ve never seen him look this way, giving you such cold scary gaze.
“A fan huh?” Dabi chuckled darkly, but there was nothing funny about this situation. He felt nothing but anger, the moment he noticed those posters hanging in your walls, that heinous face, standing all mighty and proud, he saw red. Who would’ve thought, the only girl he actually had interest in, was his daddy’s biggest fan?
Dread settled in your gut as you looked back at him, you couldn’t recognise him at all. That Dabi who was always so flirty and kind to you, was nowhere to be seen.
“Is there something wrong? You’re acting weird..” you mumbled, backing away from him.
“Why are ya steppin’ back doll?” he says threateningly, coming closer to you. “C’mere, tell me more about this obsession of yours, like the big loyal fan you seem to be”
He puts his charred hand on the poster, activating his quirk and setting it ablaze.
“What are you doing?!” you gasp in shock, scared of the possibility that your room would end up in flames. Without thinking twice, you head quickly for the door, the situation clearly unsafe.
“You are not going anywhere.”
With a firm grip on your arm, Dabi forcefully pulled you back, throwing you to the ground. You let out a loud yelp in pain, while he went and locked your door.
“Stop it!! Dabi let m-”
Interrupting your whining, Dabi pulled you by your hair, making you face him. A psychotic sinister grin formed on his face, one that sent shivers down your spine, a grin that made you doubt he was even human.
“You fucking piece of trash..” he said through gritted teeth. “How low could you be, really? Endeavor?!”
By now tears were rolling down your cheeks, his sudden change of behaviour not only scared you to death, but also confused you.
“Dabi please- I don’t understand!!” you whined. “P-Please stop and let’s talk! I- I don’t-”
“Shut that filthy mouth of yours.” he spoke sternly, pulling your hair even harder and then throwing you to the bed. You had no time to crawl away from him, he was on top of you in mere seconds, overpowering you and suffocating you.
“Tell me, do you really think that precious hero of yours would even bother to come save you from someone like me right now? Let me tell you somethin’ funny doll…” he cackled, pulling your shirt and tearing it apart. Then his other hand tugged at your pants, the flames on his fingers burning them slowly. You screamed in terror as heat enveloped your body. Those azure flames of his were pretty, you’d always stare in awe as he lit up his cigarette. But right now that was not the case. They were terrifying, scorching hot, you thought he’d burn you alive. But Dabi controlled them just enough that only your clothes would burn, he had other plans in mind.
“A man like him would surely spit on your corpse if it benefited him the pedestal where he stands today.” Dabi whispered, his face inches away from yours. “Just like he’s always done. But you’re a naive little one aren’t cha? You believe anything the TV shows you right? Fuckin’ pathetic..”
As you stared back at him, eyes full of tears while trying to cover your naked body, Dabi had the strongest urge to hurt you. Real bad. Mostly for the fact that you, who Dabi considered his the moment he laid his eyes on you, was idolising the one person Dabi had sworn to take revenge on. The one person who Dabi dedicated the rest of his life, at the beginning to make him proud, and now to just shatter him completely. The same man who ruined his life, whose face was now printed on a poster hanging on your wall, who you apparently considered strong and inspiring, a true hero.
Dabi wanted to laugh. Dabi wanted to scream. He wanted to set this whole place ablaze with you in it, hear your screams of agony like every lowlife he’s killed so far.
“Y’know, it’s been a goal of mine to destroy him” Dabi says, pinning your hands, now your body bare for him to see. “But something that will feel good too is destroying his biggest fans, show them that their favorite hero won’t come save them when they’re in the hands of the villains. Show them what kind of people they idolise, show them how truly pathetic they are, right doll?”
You shake your head, now bursting into tears as he held you down, his body almost crushing you. The word ‘villain’ had you hyperventilating, shaking in fear.
Was Dabi a villain?
“P-please I’m sorry! I don’t know w-what is going on..let me go! Dabi stop!”
“Too late.”
As if your body weighted nothing, Dabi carried you and turned you around so you were laying on your stomach. With one hand he pushed your head further into the pillows, with the other he forcefully brought your hips up, bending you over and almost breaking your back. Your muffled whines and cries fed him even more with the desire to ruin you and hurt you. Heating up his hand, he gave your ass a harsh slap, making you flinch and move forward, screaming in pain.
“That’s gonna leave a nasty scar” he chuckled, looking at the reddened flesh, slowly bruising. “Y’see how his flames feel like, slut? You want more?” he gave your other asscheek a slap too, this time worse than the first one. Your cries and begging fell on deaf ears as he kept smacking your ass over and over again, the heat and pain on your lower back making you feel almost paralysed. With one final grab of your ass, he admired his work on you, but that wasn’t enough.
You were nearly having a panic attack, but Dabi couldn’t care less as he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants, letting out his now hardened cock, the tip leaking precum and begging to be stuffed on your tight pussy.
“Let’s see how long will it take for your favorite hero to show up hm?” he said, pulling you harshly by your hair and looking at your sobbing face. The look in his eyes was manic, his grin wide and terrifying, you saw nothing but a monster.
“Another soul ruined. Because of him people like me exist dollface. Never forget that.”
“D-Dabi no!!!”
Without any preparation at all, the tip of his cock pushed further between your folds, stretching you open and invading you from the inside. Your mouth fell open but no sound came out, the pain of the burning stretch left you breathless. He slammed his hips hard against you, burying himself to the brim and letting out a low groan.
“F-Fuuuck, so tight f’me” he whispered, leaning closer to your face to lick off the tears rolling down your cheek. “Tell me princess, you ever thought of that scum fucking ya like this hm? You probably have, touching yourself as you looked at his poster. His biggest fan yeah? Fucking disgusting!” Dabi laughed, looking at your reddened face as he humiliated you further.
“But now, you get his hellspawn instead. Ain’t that just wonderful?”
Setting up the pace, Dabi fucked you roughly, slamming his hips into you faster and harder, not leaving you any time to get used to his length at all. The unbearable pain had your legs shaking and your body falling down, unable to keep up with all of this. But he held you near himself, bending you over and keeping your hips in place, huffing and groaning in your ear like a wild hungry animal as he took everything from you. His hand would heat up from time to time, leaving bruises on your hips and back, painting your body with his marks and bites while his teeth sunk on your shoulders. Your choked whines and crying mixed with the creaking of the bed and his groans filled your room, and you wished for everything to end. For this suffering to end.
“Y’wanna hold on to this as I fuck this cunt into oblivion, little bitch?” he cackled, grabbing your Endeavor plushie and throwing it to your face. “Let the hero scum know how much you love villain cock filling you to the brim yeah?”
“P-please stop it! Dabi.. I-I beg you.. it hurtsss!”
“Nngh good- as it fucking should!” he moaned, his eyes almost crossed from how good your cunt felt wrapped around his cock, milking him dry. He fucked you deeply, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix and making your legs tremble. You could feel him twitching inside of you, a sign that he was close to cumming.
“Mmhm fuck- Y’know.. what would probably make the old man happy?” To continue the bloodline” he grinned. “We have the honour, dollface. M’gonna breed you real nice- fuck- and have some other brats running around, making his life hell. Amazing, yeah?”
You didn’t know what sick twisted things went through his mind, nor had you any idea what was even going on as he continued rambling while fucking you ruthlessly. You panicked at the thought of him coming inside of you, you tried your best to move away from him but no avail. Dabi kept you locked on his grasp, his hand wrapping around your neck while he reached his high, his movements now getting sloppy and his breathing heavier.
“N-not inside! Please, Dabi!” you whimpered.
“Shut up n’ take it, slut. F-fuck.. take it all!” With one final slam of his hips he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with his pearly white seed, filling you so much to the point it leaked out. You felt so full, so filthy and violated, so hurt.
A few seconds went by as Dabi sat there without moving, catching his breath while you tried to catch yours, still crying and sniffing. Your body ached terribly, but you sat there without moving or saying a word, making sure to not accidentally anger him further.
“One last thing.”
Dabi turned you around so you’re laying on your back, then taking his cock out and smearing it all over your tits, covering them with his cum. Then he handed you the Endeavor plushie.
“W-what are yo-”
“Shut up and hold it. This moment shall never be forgotten” he grinned, taking out his phone for a picture. There you were, laying down with your body all naked and bruised, tits smeared on villain cum while you held the hero plushie near yourself. His scarred hand reached to grab your neck, then he took the picture, humiliating you fruther.
“Very artistic, don’t cha think?” he chuckled, showing you the nasty picture of you he took. Your face heated up in embarrassment, tears forming in your eyes again.
“M’gonna keep it for myself, but who knows. Maybe I will make it public, show those hero fans that they will never be safe from the villains.”
And with that, Dabi stood up, dressed himself up and prepared to leave your room, leaving you there, ruined.
“I will be back. Make sure to search my name on the internet, you’ll find some interesting stuff~” he smiled menacingly.
“You’ll soon be my biggest fan.”
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🏷️ tags: @scariusaquarius @holydayaria @bubblegumsblog @daniidil @arinexeisnotworking @cherryflavoredkisses @madsttx @syrenkitsune @cyberdazetragedy @dabislittlebeaniebaby
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ectologia · 4 months
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♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐼𝒩 𝒜 𝑅𝒰𝒯 ؛ 𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾
𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ノ noncon ノ forced breeding ノ forced pregnancy ノ clit spanking ノ creampie ノ misogyny ノ rut ノ baby trapping ノ feral keigo ノ piss ノ marking ノ profanity
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Keigo’s bigger, softer around the edges but still with that slight cut of pristine muscle lining his torso and limbs. His wings thicken, puffy with a fat down blanketing them with gentle red bristles.
Sweaty too. He doesn’t want to wear any clothes. Granted, he says that all the time. But now it’s not just a want, it’s a need. A priority. He doesn’t feel fit to carry out his primitive desires when he’s being held back and restrained by all that stupid cotton and leather. He needs to be free, needs to let his manhood breathe. Otherwise how could he possibly carry out his responsibility as a daddy? That’s right, he couldn’t.
You leave him to his ludicrous antics of digging out nests in your bed. Making a fine art of curling every blanket, quilt and pillow in the house into a cushty barricaded circle atop your mattress, slapping at the cuddly pile of fabric with an almost crazed look, claiming that your “eggs” are going to be so warm and safe there. Or otherwise scenting you, rubbing his damp neck and hair all over your body, starting off with a gentle kiss to your temple, before sliding down your torso to rub his palms against that little pouch of flesh he knows he’s going to put his babies in, eventually.
Keigo doesn’t like the fact that you still insist on walking around the house fully clothed. He doesn’t, so why do you need to? You’re his mate, his wife, his other half. He knows it’s time to procreate, so why don’t you?
He follows you around the house on another one of your cleaning sprees. His nose wrinkles at the acrid scent of chemicals and lemon in the air, scratching at his throat and burning his sensitive nostrils as you continue to wipe the surfaces and spray away the scent of masculine sweat he worked so hard on drowning the house in. Do you really want another male entering his territory?
There’s only the slightest ring of yellow encircling his otherwise blown pupils. He tunes out after the first 10 seconds of your ranting and scolding. Something about how nobody’s going to “steal you away” if he doesn’t piss on the front door. Yeah, we’ll see about that, he scoffs to nobody but himself, plucking a bent feather from his rugged cape of crimson to flick and mould it back to shape, flicking at the fibrous hairs.
“Keigo, are you even listening to me?” You clap your hands in his face, attempting to garner his attention. “Hello?”
He doesn’t like that one bit, the flailed movements seeming all to similar to an opposing threat, a predator. He blinks away the carnal instinct to rip your arms out of their sockets and puncture your skull with his teeth. “Yes.”
“Well, it doesn’t fucking look like it. Can you repeat any of what I just said?”
“Stop pissing outside.”
“And what else?”
“And on the door.”
Glowing ember’s narrow as you huff, massaging your temples as you begin to pace, stomping about the kitchen with a cloth and spray bottle in hand.
He shudders at the sharp hiss of the pump, spitting at the granite counter and washing away his mark.
“Baby..” He draws closer, wings twitching at the irritating squeak of polished marble. Two large hands, both streaked with thick prominent veins clasp your waist in an attempt to bring your rear closer towards his erect, naked member.
“No, Keigo. Not right now, I’m busy.”
An elbow jabs at his ribs as you continue to scrub away at the surface, leaning over the edge with the pudgy mound of your pussy swaying against his cock and balls with a tantalising momentum.
Before you know it, the bottle is yanked out of your hand and chucked against the wall. The towel clutched between your fingers meets the same fate, ripped in two by a set of talons and left in shreds on the floor.
“Keigo!” You shriek, already pushing against him as he grips you by the neck. “Get off! What’s wrong with you!”
It’s a rhetorical question, and one he has no interest in answering anyway. Too busy with pulling the silk of your pyjama pants down to your toes, along with those stupidly skinny pieces of sheer string you seem to think pass as underwear. He can already see globs of slick bubbling along the apex of your pussy hole. He grins at the sight, running a bent knuckle through the valley of your puffy folds. At least your body knows what it was made for.
“Keigo, stop!” There’s a hint of panic in your voice, squirming as he squeezes the delicate tendons holding your spine in place. Holding you by the scruff as though you were a bad puppy.
He sighs, flecks of spit flying from his mouth in his crazed revolution. His wings extend behind him as he clutches his throbbing shaft in his palm, swirling and bathing the velvety tip in your cunny juice. “I’m sorry, chickadee. But this is just how it is in the real word.” There’s a solemn silence, a heavy seriousness to the air as though he wasn’t rubbing his pulsating slit against your clit, collecting its oozing wetness for an easier turn of events. “You gotta’ take what you want. Gotta’ just fuck it out. Otherwise, we’d go extinct.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “Wouldn’t we, honey bun?”
“Ngh — !” The edge of the counter jabs at your hip bones, rolling on delicate skin that’s sure to be bruised after the ordeal. Your waist bucks as he smacks his swollen tip against your nervous bud.
“Mmh, this is what you wanted.” He repeats the motion, flicking his wrist faster and faster until his spanking becomes rhythmic, slapping the sluggish weight of his member up and down on your pussy. It’s a strategic move on his part, torturing your poor sensitive clitty so you’ll be all that more grateful when he moves on to the main course. “Oh yeah? You like that?” He coos as your back hunches, unsure as to whether you’re trying to curl into the pleasure or away from the pain.
After collecting a sufficient amount of lubrication, he does the same, practically clambering onto the counter with your spine arched in his hands as though he were some type of feral beast or savage hound, hung and ready to fuck and breed his bitch. He squats over your quaking form, shoving you along the smooth surface until his drooling dick nestles itself neatly between the cleft of your asscheeks, bobbing against your scared twat with his tensed ball-sack swinging closely behind.
It’s a wildly contorted position, but one Keigo insists on nonetheless.
“Agh, I’ve been waiting for this.” He grunts. “I’ve been waiting so fuckin’ long, and you just wouldn’t let me fuckin’ have it.” Pulling and tugging on your swollen labia, he separate your sticky little slit until all that’s left to shield you is the tense ring of muscle defending your hole. “Well, that’s fine by me chickadee.” He slips inside with a breathy chuckle, giggling and chortling to himself even as you yelp in pain. “I’ll just do it myself.”
It’s fast paced with an ill rhythm. There’s no love or care to be felt in his thrusts, just cruel harsh punishment, a means to an end until Keigo gets to pump his babies into your precious womb, fill you with his chicks so you can finally be a family. A proper family.
“Agh, and we can do Christmas, and Halloween, and go to the beach.” The thought is almost arousing to him, motivating him into humping your rear faster. “Won’t that be fun, little bird?”
He can be sure you’re crying, or at least close to it. He pays your silent tears no mind, blaming it on the excitement of your new life taking will.
“Kei, please! I told you, I’m not ready!” You arch your neck to plead with him.
His smile falters, twisting into something much more sinister and lecherous. He clamps a palm over the back of your skull and turns you back to the wall, facing your pitiful expression away from him. “You don’t need to be ready. I’ll do everything for you.” A calm hiss meets yours ear. “All you need to do, is lay back and take it.”
He digs into your stomach, smashing your insides to pieces as you lay paralysed beneath him. Cold marble presses against your forehead, cooling your fever as Keigo claps into you from above, a heavy set of hung balls knocking against you.
“Keigo!” You chant his name, broken as you wail out a string of pained moans.
“Yeah, that’s what I wanna hear.” Keigo practically howls. “Let’s be animals baby!”
The domes of his knees crash down either side of you, evidence of his newly contorted position as he ruts into your cunt, foaming at the mouth where his teeth grind. “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. Oh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Gonna’ breed this pretty muff full ‘a seed.”
“Keigo, no!”
Funny you seem to think you’re still in charge. After this, you’re never gonna be empty again. He’s gonna stuff you one kid after another and as many as it takes until you become his cute little housewife. The kind that only cooks and cleans and looks after his babies while he’s out working and providing. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together sweet pea.
Keigo belts with laughter as you scream, thrashing and jerking beneath him as he spurts, spraying his seed deep inside your belly and then some. He slips out halfway, looking down to admire the ring of white sewing your gummy crevice together. “Mmh, now that’s what I’m talking about..”
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bunny-yan · 1 year
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Hero!Yandere x Reincarnated GN!Reader
TW: kidnapping, mentions of violence, mentions of death, infantalization, no minors plz
You smiled brightly, following the arch with your eyes. This was it. You were finally going to leave here. You’d lived in this small town all of your life and you were finally moving on to bigger and better things. There was nothing holding you back anymore. 
You took one step and froze when your eyes met his. 
Tasman. 
He was waiting in the archway. You hated to admit it, but it was as if he was expecting it. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be off, defeating the demon king with his merry band of fellow heroes. 
Smiling, Tasman walked closer before kissing you on the cheek. 
“Hi lover, how have you been?” 
“Tasman, what are you doing here?”
He smiled, taking your hand in his as he lead you further into the village. 
“We need to talk.”
~*~
“What was I supposed to do‽” you demanded, breathing hard as you clenched your fist. It’d become obvious that Tasman had placed a tracking spell on you before he left. It alerted him when you were nearing the edge of the village and he’d only appeared so quickly because you’d never been outside the village before. 
In none of your lives. 
“Was I supposed to wait for you to come back?” You laughed bitterly. It was impossible to cover up you disdain. “I’d be old and wrinkled, in love and stupid because I believed that you would actually come back for me.”
“Don’t say it like that.” He tried to come forward, placing a hand on your arm, but you slapped it away. 
“No!” You moved away from him, crossing your arms as you looked at the luggage he had been so kind to bring back to your house. “I’m not interested in hearing your excuses! I don’t care if you still loved me or love me! I loved you and it broke my heart to hear how you eventually ended up getting married to anything with a skirt.”
“You don’t understand.”
Your laugh was almost hysterical as you cut him off. “The princess? A political marriage encouraged by the king. How could the honorable hero say no?”
He shook his head, but you didn’t acknowledge it. You gathered your things as you continued your rant. “But then there was the priestess acting as a saint of the kingdom and even though in ever other timeline she was forbidden to marry, what are the odds that you beat them? Pretty fucking great apparently. Nothing is too hard for the hero.”
Disgust and anger was obvious in your tone but what Tasman felt most was hurt, oozing from every word you said. 
“The mermaid in one of your little side adventures, the Fae queen who was mysteriously drawn out of hiding. Even the demon lord got a chance! But me?” You shook your head as you glared at him. “The childhood best friend, forever to only be an afterthought in your story.”
Tasman was quiet. He couldn’t deny that there was an immense truth to your words, but he didn’t want to accept what you were trying to say. 
You understood the feeling of fading hope too well. You’d grown old time and time again, believing in the lie called true love. Your heart grew colder with each life you spent waiting for a future that you never got to have. 
“I’m tired of living for you, Tasman. I’m tired of waiting and passing up on the opportunities to escape this lonely, shitty life of mine. I’m not doing it anymore.”
You walked to the door, but his hand easily held it closed. 
“Don’t go. Let’s talk about this.”
You turned, pushing him away in anger but he didn’t budge. 
“I don’t want to talk. I want to leave. I want to get on with my life without you in it.”
“Don’t say that.” Tasman begged. He pulled the bag off of your shoulders despite your protests, pulling you further into the house. 
“I want you to exist safely. I understand that it’s hard being away from me, but can’t you see that I can’t be with you as long as the demon lord exists? I’m just asking you to wait.”
“I’ve waited!” you exploded. “For eight of my fucking lives I waited for you. In each one you completed your mission and didn’t come back for me.” It hurt to say, but it was the truth. You continued to remind yourself of it so you’d never go back. No matter how many times you fell in love with him, you couldn’t forget the many versions of broken hearts you experienced, each more painful than the last. You felt foolish to fall for the same person, time and time again, but you finally decided that enough was enough. 
You’d let him go. You had to.
~*~
Tasman walked into the messy room; it looked like a hurricane passed through before he got there. 
He stepped over the scattered debris, pretending as if they weren’t even there as he sat next to the glaring you. If he noticed your heated gaze, he didn’t acknowledge it. 
He continued to smile, uncovering an appetizing platter of fruit.
“You haven’t been eating much lately. The chef said fruit shouldn’t be too hard on your stomach.”
He stabbed a strawberry with a fork before holding it near your mouth. “Your favorite.”
You slapped the fork out of his hand, hearing it clatter onto the ground before the strawberry rolled away. You crossed your arms, looking away from him.
The smile didn’t leave his face as he went to pick up the fork. Setting it down slowly, you jumped in alarm when the table suddenly cracked. He pulled his hand away, the place where his fingers had been crumbling into dust. 
“Luckily, I brought another fork.” He said in a quiet voice. He picked up another strawberry, the smile on his face morphing as he brought it close to you once again. “Open wide!” He said in a sickly sweet tone. 
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were afraid of him.
He’d whisked you away, deciding that you were throwing a tantrum because you hadn’t seen him in so long. He could’ve left you in the village, forcing you to stay by placing a barrier around you, but he decided he wanted to mend your relationship. It didn’t matter that you complained, that you screamed when he grabbed you around the waist before carrying you like luggage out of the village. The locals watched the spectacle, women covering their mouths in shock as others looked on. No one would stand in the way of the hero after all. 
His party looked shocked when he brought you back to their base, unafraid to ask questions until a piercing look shut them all up. He wouldn’t be questioned about the mysterious stranger he was locking in his bedroom. 
You never expected violence from Tasman, but you should’ve assumed that it was natural for him considering the number of people he killed in the name of justice. He was the hero and the hero always put the people’s needs before his own. 
But only if it meant keeping you by his side. 
You’d try to talk to the other members of his party, begging them to help you, to allow you a chance to escape if they didn’t want to get directly involved, but you were promptly informed of the treaty that Tasman had made with the king of your country. 
The country would turn a blind eye to one citizen being held against their will and in return their hero would defeat the demon king. You could’ve appealed. You wanted to. But that would never happen. Tasman refused to let you leave his room until you proved to him that you could behave and the country would never choose a citizen over their beloved hero. You could imagine the looks you’d receive for even suggesting that they choose you over their savior.
It was for the greater good. 
You should’ve been happy. There were people falling over their feet just to get a glimpse at the hero and yet you were sitting here, ungrateful to be blessed with his pampering. He would take over the world for you if you asked, but you would rather the world be destroyed for a taste of freedom?
It was selfish. 
You were selfish. It was his favorite words to say whenever you begged him to let you go. He was out, risking his life for the sake of the world, fighting as hard as he could for a chance to come back to you, and you wanted to leave him. 
“Don’t do this.” he said, when you continued to ignore his prodding. “How am I supposed to fight if I’m constantly worrying over your health? You have to eat.” When you continued to refuse him, you felt the words come before he even said them. 
“You’re being selfish.”
You knew by now that there was no point in arguing with him. No matter how much truth existed in your words, they’d immediately be brushed away as he shushed you. Cooing about how wrong you were. He told you time and time again that he just wanted to protect you. About how there were big, bad things out there in the big, bad world you lived in and how this was the only way he could keep you safe. 
It didn’t matter how many times you lived to see death knocking at your door, hands withered from the experience of  life. He knew best. He knew what was right for you. You would be happy if you just listened to him. 
If you just gave in. 
It didn’t matter that he was essentially threatening to let the world burn if it meant that he couldn’t have you. He’d told you time and time again how important you were to him. He’d threaten you, yell at you, call you selfish. 
It was your fault that people were dying. He could save them if only you would listen to him. If only you would eat or let him hold you. Little concessions on your part meant the preservation of mankind. How inconsiderate could you be to think you mattered more than that? 
His selfishness didn’t matter because he was the greater good. If you didn’t give into what he wanted, he was willing to show you just how selfish he could be. 
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temptacioun · 6 months
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† noncon ; somnophilia / noncon, mentions of drugs, oral (f. and m. receiving)
the bed creaks softly under his slow movements, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approaches your pretty passed out form. he’s not worried ; it was pretty easy to spike your drink, you were too focused on the conversation before to notice. that had been your first mistake, but he couldn’t complain.
for a moment he just sits and stares, eyes trailing down the glimpses of naked skin and his pants are suddenly much too tight. he leans forward, fingers twitching ; itching to touch and grope. and so he does. his fingers find solace in cupping your tits through the skimpy dress you decided to wear that night, a soft moan leaving his lips at the feeling. much better than he’d imagined all those lonely times.
he shifts, to lie down next to you with a soft smile on his lips — how pretty you are. he could see your eyes twitching behind closed lids, were you dreaming? oh, he hoped you were dreaming of him, too. like he always dreamt of you. he can’t help himself when he leans in, your lips are too inviting to pass up on.
he’s careful at first, pushing his lips against yours before his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and he could taste the faint remnants of your cherry gloss. he moves again, ontop of you this time with a hand squishing your cheeks together and forcing your lips to part to receive his eager tongue. he can’t help but moan against your lips, his free hand leaving your breast in favor of trailing down your body — lower, and lower. teasing the hem of your dress and grabbing the fat of your thigh and spreading your legs with ease.
he liked you like this, so compliant and soft. he pulls back to settle between your thighs, eyes trained on the pretty red lace there. his hands tremble with excitement, so careful when he reaches out to peel the garment down your thighs and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how it sticks to your already drenched pussy.
he’d told himself he would be slow, that he’d enjoy himself and take his time ; but you were too tempting. he almost topples over, bracing his palms against your thighs and his nose bumps into your clit, tongue flat against your cunt and he was salivating at the taste. the soft little whimpers and gasps that fell from your lips were like music to his ears. he reaches higher, tongue flicking against your clit while his fingers inch closer towards your cunt — mesmerized by how easy your wet heat swallowed his fingers, practically sucking them in and he moans into your pretty pussy.
his cock strains against his sweatpants but he couldn’t care less about himself at the moment, so engrossed in your sweet scent ; he swore he was getting high off it. would get lost in your taste and he doesn’t even know how long he’s spent between your thighs already when he finally lifts his head for a breather.
he swears his eyes almost fall out of his head when he sees your face. your eyebrows cinched together, lips slick with drool and so soft, so plush. he chokes on his own spit at the sight. there’s a moment of silence, only your soft breathing could be heard before he shuffles himself off the bed to stand next to it instead. his hands fall down to pull the strings of his sweatpants and free his cock.
his hand falls down, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and turning your head to face him instead. he thumbs at your bottom lip, pulling it down before he squishes your cheeks together once more. his free hand wraps around the base of his cock while he pushes against your pretty plush lips, smearing precum all over and he sucks in a sharp breath at the sight.
he still can’t believe how easy it all was, pushing his cock past your plump lips and he releases a breath he was holding ; hand slipping to the back of your head and curl his fingers into your soft locks to guide you further down his length. he could hear your breath stuttering, your throat protesting around his cock but he doesn’t care. he can’t hold back anymore.
his pace quickens, grunting and groaning ; hips stuttering and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he finishes down your throat. how sad, he’d hoped he would’ve lasted a little longer, but he can’t complain with how soft your throat felt. his lips twitch up into a small smile when he pulls away and tucks his cock back into his pants. his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, collecting some of his spilled cum and smearing it over your lips.
there was cum on your face, a soiled wet patch on the mattress beneath your thighs — he couldn’t wait to see your face in the morning.
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yanderenightmare · 1 month
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TW: nsfw
fem reader
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Just thinking of those boyfriends who can’t stop furiously blushing and excusing themselves when the post-nut-clarity hits after they’ve made a downright fool of themselves in bed. They’re all like, “Don’t give me that look, that wasn’t—y’know? I didn’t mean—I don’t know where that came from.” After they’ve begged and whined to creampie you while rambling things like “M’gonna make you my babymamma, gonna knock yah up—give you triplets—gonna babytrap yah—yuh—yeah—gonna make you mine—mh—all mine—my pretty little housewife forever!”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio
JJK – Gojo, Geto, Naoya, Yuuta, Choso
HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Miya twins
AOT – Eren, Zeke
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dark-night-hero · 6 months
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Imagine a Yandere Kamisato Ayato who would do anything to make you his.
Imagine a meticulous Yandere Ayato who would slowly but surely isolate you from the rest of the world, would make sure you have no one to run into but him and only him. He did not even know when it start, was it the first time he have met you? Or was it during the times in his lowest and you were there to comfort him? He don't know, but if there was something he knew other than to make his clan prosperous again, that is to make you his and only his.
Imagine it started with rumors. It started with nonsense rumors into harmful rumors that surely affect you. The way people looks at you, the way you knew they were talking about you. You did not even do anything wrong and yet they kept talking about you. "What's wrong hmmm? Can you tell me what's wrong (First name)?" "... My lord..." He will make sure he would be the only person you could open up to. He thought as he felt a shiver down his spine as you pull him into an embrace, sniffing and holding on into him as you cried. Just like who you were there at his lowest, he would make sure he was there too, even if he was the cause of that downfall that you would never knew.
Imagine Yandere Ayato who would do anything to have you as his spouse despite the disapproval of his retainers. Be it means blackmailing or wiping them clean with all sorts of reasons of corruption. Yandere Ayato whom when he finally have you in the palm of his hands, would make sure to never let step outside the estate. Saying the world is to dangerous for you to venture. That as long as you stay by his side, you'll be safe and sound, away from the danger and humors going and might come into you. The truth is you've always been so kind, not only to him but also to others, and afraid that that kindness would be taken away from him. He would keep you by his only and only by his side.
Imagine knowing very well of what he was doing. Knowing he was the root of all the rumors that causes your reputation downfall in the lands of Inazuma. "Darling, what do you think of a simple marriage? Just the two of us uhm ugh, and maybe a few guests, my sister- thoma-" "Anything is fine, Ayato." You smile sweetly at him before taking his hand that was place on top of yours and pulling it close on your mouth before giving he back of his hand a kiss. "I'll be here by your side and only by your side, so do whatever you pleased."
Imagine a shiver down his spine, a crazy flustered look on his face, the way his eyes twitch in a bliss of happiness. "Ohhhh how I love you very much, darling." He laughs as he pull you into his arms. "I know Ayato, and I love you too, very, very much." You chuckle and embrace him back, a smirk making it's way on your lips.
Imagine, the thing about a crazy, love sick, manipulative, Yandere Ayato is that you don't mind. Because you were just as crazy and love sick when it comes to him. And knowing your love, loves you as much and as crazy as you were with him. It was trully a great pleasure. "I'm yours, but that means you're mine, okay?"
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
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concreteparasite · 9 days
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BSH !Villain Ray AU
My AU: Ray used to be the top hero... but when MC progressed from his side kick into their own independent hero, they eventually didn't need Ray anymore.... of course, this did NOT sit well with Ray.
Desperate to be #1 in MC's heart once again, Ray took on the role of the biggest and baddest villain, one that MC would strive to chase and attempt to catch for the rest of their lives. Seeing MC chase desperately after Ray, it filled him with a twisted sense of joy and endearment for the MC, he waits day in and out for MC to show up and attempt to stop whatever plot he has going that day
. He enjoys taunting them just enough to see their hero demeanor crack a little bit in annoyance. And of course, if MC was actually in any danger, Ray would swoop in to protect them still (even by his own plots).
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