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confessioncassette · 2 months

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𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐭𝐰 : 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃. 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧

Embarrassing.

That would describe it. The vulnerable feeling walking up the entrance of, happy hotel? Hazbin Hotel?

You didn’t even make it a week in hell. Waking up in this place confused you, you’re not really sure why you’re here. You weren’t a terrible human on Earth, maybe it was lust? Greed? Who knows, but this place makes you sick. You’ve encountered horrors from every corner- robbings, gruesome killings, torture- it just wasn’t your scene. Having to pick yourself up in eternal hell with nothing but the clothes on your back was difficult.

Until a commercial from the Hazbin Hotel played on a TV while you were walking down the street.

Would they take you? It would be hell of a lot better to be here than the street. Maybe you could have a chance at redemption… it would be nice to be in heaven. No more paranoia, sleepless nights, or having your soul burn forever. It’d be a fresh start, to flip a new leaf. You could do it, just-

“Why hello there!”

The abruptness of the front door to the hotel startled you back into reality.

A tall man resting his hands atop of a cane, dressed in a red suit greets you happily.

“Hello, I saw your commercial,” you present the poorly drawn hotel poster to him, “I was wondering if you had room for me?”

The man tilts his head to the side, sizing you up and down for a second.

“Splendid! Yes, of course, my dear we have plenty of room for you. I’m Alastor, the host of this hotel, and you are?” The demon stuck out his hand, patiently waiting for you to take it.

You introduce yourself and shake his hand. Alastors grip is firm and within a millisecond, he eagerly jerks you into the hotel.

“Pleasure to be meeting you, my dear! Quite the pleasure, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

He gestures to the main lobby with his free hand.

“We recently underwent some renovations after the extermination. Everything is brand new and in tip top shape. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about an old rickety hotel. You’ll be staying in luxury!” His cane thuds on the marble floor, emphasizing his last word.

The hotel is beautiful, you’ve seen nothing like it. Stunningly high vaulted ceilings with walls decorated in patterned maroon wallpaper, beautiful velvet curtains draping the large windows, golden light fixtures, a push carpet acting as a runway leading up to a giant staircase in the middle of the lobby. A bar to the left, and a common room to the right. Everything is spaced out, but it feels home-y.

Maybe this wasn’t a bad decision after all.

Alastor was a pure gentleman. He was polite, entertaining and a bit of a sweet talker. He gave you a thorough tour throughout the hotel, and everything is much more than the commercial seemed.

You met the current residents at the hotel as well, who welcomed you with open arms. And the princess of hell, Charlie, was the most ecstatic to meet you. Bringing you into a giant hug, her eyes practically glistened with joy, “We are here to help you, and we are so happy you’re here!”

–

You hit 1 month today.

Walking down the grand entrance stairs you were surprised by all your friends congratulating you on your “anniversary.”

A poorly made sign (KunGratZ!), most likely made by Nifty, hung over the bar, balloons scattered the marble floor and everyone was waiting for you by the large dining table. In the middle of it, sat a beautifully decorated white and red cake.

“Happy 1 month today,” Charlie squeals, “you’ve been doing great!”

Despite this being a small accomplishment, Charlie and Vaggie planned the rest of the day in celebration of you.

Everyone enjoyed games, drinks and some people even gave you gifts. Nifty gave you a handmade knife, “to kill the angels”, Charlie made you a bracelet, Angel got you a lovely pink robe, Vaggie gifted you a pair of stockings. Husk gave you all the alcohol you could want, while trying to teach you how to gamble. You and Angel danced to music played by Alastor’s microphone cane until everyone joined in. By the end of the night, everyone had their fill of alcohol and food.

You ache with gratitude.

It was quite a lot for 1 month living here, but this is what they do. It’s only been a month, but it feels like family- your home.

And by midnight, Husk asked what your goal in hell would be.

“To be redeemed. To go to heaven and live forever as a pure soul! Thank you for everything you have done for me so far guys.”

“Cheers to that,” he nods, lifting up a glass of whiskey. “To you, dear friend.”

–

“Alright, goodnight toots, I’m off ta bed.” Angel stretches, getting up from the sofa. You both were engaged in deep drunk conversation for a few hours now. Circling the drink in your glass, you suppose it’s time for you too to get off to bed.

“Goodnight, Angel.” You smile as he blows a kiss in return before he exits the living room.

Yawning, you get up from the sofa, almost falling. How much have you had? You’re buzzed pretty bad.

“Need help, my dear?” The familiar static-y voice lingers behind you.

“Oh, Alastor-think i had t’much.” You smile and you can feel your flushed cheeks radiate heat.

“Now, now sweetheart. You’re in good hands. May I?” A gentle hand comes to rest on your lower back.

You nod, letting him easily scoop you up. Your face cradles into his neck. Feels kind of funny, having the spins and being carried.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” His voice rumbles in his chest as he talks.

You giggle, “Keep talking, it feels nice.”

He hums and it satisfies you. “Everyone is proud of you. Not many people in hell are open to the option of being rehabilitated or changed. You should be incredibly proud of yourself.”

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“I sure did, sweet girl. I loved playing all your tunes tonight. I haven’t heard of most of them, but they were catchy.”

Your weight in his arms shift as he walks up the stairs.

“How long have you been in hell?” You ask.

“For quite some time. I could tell you hundreds of stories about how hell was before you got here. Maybe stories before most people got here. The times are changin’.”

“A lil’ over a month f’me,” you grumble, “I don’t know why I came in the first place.”

“Now darling, you’re at the safest place in hell. Don’t you worry, soon enough you’ll be climbing up that ladder to heaven.”

You sigh.

“Isn’t that what you want?” His ear twitches.

It takes you a moment to reply, trying to collect all your runaway thoughts.

“Yes, but, do we know this even works? Does all this work like that? Am I really able to cleanse my soul?” Your chin lifts up to meet his eyes already staring back at you.

Alastors boots click down the hallway and stop at front of your door. Without putting you down, your door clicks and opens. You keep talking to him as he gently lays you down on your bed. Your plush pillows and soft bedding caress you, trying to lull you to sleep in your drunken state.

“I thought souls stay here to burn forever. I never thought a place like this would even exist in a world like…this.”

Alastor stands next to your bed, red eyes gleaming down on you through the darkness of your room. His figure half illuminated by the moon, microphone at the top of his cane reflecting in the light.

“Charlie is a dreamer.” He sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “She believes it can be done.”

With your eyes fighting to stay open, you close them and put the emptiness beside your bed. “But do you believe it can be done? Keep talking to me, Alastor. I like when y’talk. You know you were my first friend here?”

“Darling, you’re a pleasure to be around. Your company brings a lighter feel to a room.” He coos as he settles himself. Your bed dips as he sits.

“Maybe one day you can come up to heaven with me. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could foxtrot on the clouds.” You giggle.

“You might need a few more lessons in that before then dear, but yes, I suppose that sounds like a grand ol’ time.”

He waits a moment before speaking again, “You really want to get to heaven, don’t you?”

You mumble a yes to him, “You didn’t answer me before Alastor. About if you believe it can be done?”

He adjusts himself to face you directly. “I know it can be done.”

Your eyes shoot open.

“Really? How?”

“If it’s cleansing your soul you’re looking for, I can do that myself.”

“Really? You perk up, “You’d help me?”

He cocks his head to the side, looking down at you through hooded eyes. That cat like grin grows wide.

“Of course! I’m the radio demon, look at all the things I��ve done to this hotel. All the things I’ve done to protect this place. Now, I don’t go around telling people this, so keep this our little secret,darling would you?” He waits for you to nod excitedly. “I once helped someone get to those pearly gates before.”

A demon like him was able to help someone go to heaven before? Alastor is so many great things, you’ve seen it yourself, but this? This was your ticket. He could do this for you, and he’s always helped you before. He’s never let you down. Alastor has been your tride and true.

The smile on your face shows Alastor all too well that you believe him. He knows your pretty head is filled with trust. He’s never given anyone a reason not to. And he knows how naive you are. A sweet, simple naive little girl. So new to this world…

“I’ll do the best that I can every day if you can grant me this one wish, Alastor. I’ll work hard and you cleanse my soul.”

Alastors eyes darken as his ears twitch.

“Make that a deal?” He leans in, extending his hand to you like he did that first day. The first day of your new life in hell. His ears twitch in anticipation, and you take it a second later.

“A deal! Thank you so mu-”

In an instant, you’re pushed down on the bed.

Alastors body is quick to climb over yours. His hands have an iron grip on your wrists.

“Might as well cleanse your soul now, right darling? No better time to, no time to waste!”

You gasp and wiggle in his grip. As if agitated, his knee pushes up and into your leg, making you open for him. The dress you wear slides up to your waist as he does this.

“What is it? Don’t believe me?” He pouts, fakeness and mockery ooze through his voice.

“No-I,” your brain is hazy from the alcohol. Your mind is spinning a million miles a minute.

“Good, never doubt me again.” He growls, voice stuttering and filled with loud static. Pushing your wrists deeper into the bed, he places his hips between your legs.

“You want to see those gates in the sky? You want to leave?”

His hips grind into yours, his cock already hard. The coarseness of his pants hit into every nerve of your clit.

“I-” you begin.

“Don’t I do enough for you here? Cleansing a soul, HA!” One of his hands shoots down between your legs and rubs harsh circles over your bundle of nerves.

You let out a moan and arch your back off the bed. Unsure of why your body is responding to him like this.

“You trust me, yes? So allow me to cleanse your soul, by chaining yours to me.”

Your brain is too busy swirling to realize what you just did, the deal you just made, and the giant loophole Alastor just wiggled his way into. You buck your hips into his touch, your slick coating your panties. His fingers dance over your covered clit, made easy by your juices collecting there.

His fingers press roughly into your nerves, and you’re becoming an unholy mess. Your eyes fuse shut, feeling every movement he gives you. And it feels fucking good…

“Feels s’good,” you moan. Bucking your hips relentlessly now, silently begging for him to keep going.

“I’ll play nice, since you ever so graciously trusted me with your soul.” He coos, upping his pace for you. His lips come down to gently kick your neck.

“Let go, be a good girl and cum for me.”

It’s torture. His rough hands give steady and hard pressure, rubbing little fast circles, all while his mouth gives you coaxing soft kisses.

“I’m gunna-”

His eyes are blown wide, a snarl catches his smile as he eagerly watches every muscle in your face as your head lolls to the side. Your beautiful mouth slacks open and your moans play him a lovely song.

And there it goes, the pressure in your lower belly breaks. You give him everything he wants. Hot pleasure sizzles every corner of your body and you hump his hand through your orgasm.

He hums as he watches you work your way down until you slowly stop grinding your hips into his.

“Up you go, sweet girl.” Hands cradle your back, picking you up slightly to position you to the edge of the bed. Always with care as if every movement was thought out and afraid to break you.

His body now stands at the edge of the bed, hands pressing your knees open and then guiding your legs around his waist.

“Who do you belong to now?” He effortlessly takes his cock out of his pants. No time for removing clothes.

You look down to see him. He’s big, you’re not sure you could take that…

A hand grips your face, “I know you’re curious darling, and you’ll have your fill, but don’t ignore me again or I’ll make this hurt more than you want.”

His face is so close to yours now, you can feel the tip of his cock poking at your clit and it makes you melt.

“Yours, Alastor.”

He gently grinds his cock over your clit. All the way down the shaft to where his balls press against your slick opening, to all the way back up to his tip. He does this slowly, watching your every move like you're prey. His prey, ready to devour you in an instant.

“What’s mine, now?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. His antlers grow bigger and the grip on your waist now pricks with pain from his claws.

“My soul, my soul is yours.” His cock sliding up and down your cunt makes your furrow your brows and whimper for him. You don’t care, you don’t give a fuck, you just want him to keep making you feel the way you do right now.

“Good girl.” Positioning himself to your opening, he dips his tip in just to catch your juices. As he pulls out, he slicks your wetness in circles over your opening, coating himself with you.

Without warning, he thrusts in with one sharp movement. You gasp, mouth open for him, and he forcibly sticks his fingers in your mouth. His thumb acts as a hook under your chin.

“You’re bonded to me forever,” he growls. The fingers in your mouth press down on your tongue as he begins a steady and rough pace. Your body bounces back and forth on the bed, sliding yourself onto him over and over again. You give into the sensation and your body goes limp with pleasure. Your knees slack dead weight to the sides, but your feet still link behind his waist.

“You’re a lovely sight, who knew you were so naive. A pretty, little naive baby who doesn’t know any better.”

You coat his fingers with saliva, and he’s fixated on watching it roll down his arm and your neck, letting it pool on the comforter.

“Look at you, I already broke you, ha!”

His pace begins to quicken. “You’re so good for me. It drives me mad.”

He fucks up into you at a relentless pace, everytime he thrusts into you his cock kisses your cervix, over and over and over…

“Is my darling going to take my cum? I’m going to fill your little cunt.” His hand forces your head to nod for him, and you do your best to say yes with his fingers still in your mouth.

“You’re clenching around me so hard, I know you want my cock to fill you up.” Taking his hand out of your mouth, his wet hand finds your hip. His hands curl around you, claws wrapping around the small of your back, bouncing you back and forth onto him.

His eyes are wild, his snarl exposes his gums and his ears are flat as he humps into you just one more time until snarling in your ear as he fills you up. You can feel his pulsing cock deep within you as his warmth seeps in every corner of your cunt.

He grinds into you as he finishes his high. Once he’s done, his grip on you loosens and fingers smooth over the scars he left.

The smile on his face is dark as he looks into your eyes.

His toy for eternity.

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #tw dubcon #tw manipulation

1K notes · View notes

rinhaler · 5 months

Note

I’m begging and scratching at the walls for more plug!sukuna omg. I’ve been thinking about him at a party really clinging to a shy girl, trying to get her to “just take one hit you’ll like it” and something something he convinces her to sit on his lap and he lets her explore his body, slowly getting really worked up. Letting her have “control” until he loses it.

Once again this weeks dub has me by the NECK Ray chase ate and left no crumbs UNFFF I hope you like this! Scummy Sukuna my beloved 💖

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, creampie, manipulation, vaginal sex, choking, degradation, smoking oui'd, coercion, slight oral fixation.

words: 2k

“Alone?” a voice asks, sitting beside you on the couch. You shuffle as much as you can to give him space, keeping your knees together as he decides to manspread and rest his arm around the back.

“No I’m with my—” you turn to look at Nobara before realising she’s attached her lips to someone else’s while you were disassociating. “Oh, well, kind of.” you shrug.

He smirks, leaning forward. “Good,” he tells you as he pulls some things out of his pocket and places them on the coffee table. It’s like a science, watching people roll blunts. You’ve never tried it and you’ve never wanted to, not when you’ve heard so many horror stories. But whenever you’ve been around to see someone roll, you’ve always been oddly captivated. “You look lost.”

“U-Um…” you huff, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t really like parties…” you sigh.

He nods, not saying anything else as he continues to finish rolling his joint. It’s quick and easy, like he does this all day everyday and has it perfected. You watch him light it, but look down at your lap when he leans back against the couch.

“Why not?” he wonders. “Too loud? Too many people?”

“Yeah…” you confess, feeling a little lame as you admit your true feelings.

You’re in the prime of your life and you’re complaining about being at a party. You wouldn’t mind as much if Nobara wasn’t occupied. But you don’t know anyone else here. Truthfully, you probably would have snuck home if he didn’t sit down to talk to you. You’d much rather be at home with some takeout food and a bingeable show.

Your heart sinks a little when he stands up. Have you really embarrassed yourself that much? So much so that you’ve bored him enough to leave. He walks away, turning to face you after taking a good amount of steps.

“Are you coming? Thought you didn’t like parties.” he speaks. He waits until you stand up, but carries on walking before you can catch up to him. You follow him through the house and up the stairs. It’s a lot quieter, though there are still muffles. Soft moans from one room and crying from another. “Sukuna. If you were wondering.” he introduces himself, not bothering to look at you as he does.

You tell him your name, and realise he’s brought you to a bedroom.

“Get comfy.” he instructs, he turns on a light, dimming it slowly when he sees your eyes screw shut from the brightness. The music still plays softly through the gaps of the door and into the room from the rest of the house. “Why’d you come here if you don’t like parties?”

“My friend… she wanted me to.”

“So you just do what people tell you to?” he asks, sitting beside you on the bed.

Your face fills with heat and your heart begins to race. You wiggle away from him slightly to keep some distance between you. He takes a drag of his blunt, looking up at the lights as he puffs a plume of smoke towards the ceiling.

“Not always.”

He doesn’t respond, instead, he holds the blunt out for you to try. You shake your head, though, declining immediately. Even with a few drinks in your system, you know better.

“Awe, no fun.” he chuckles, taking another drag. “C’mon. One hit, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer to you again and putting his arm around you. Your head drops, eyes finding where his hand rests on your hip before looking at the joint he’s holding right in front of you.

“I— I’ve never… I’ve never smoked before.” you admit.

“That’s cute. One puff won’t hurt, yeah?” he speaks, though you’re unsure if he’s trying to convince you or if he’s actually certain it won’t hurt. He smiles widely, it’s toothy and somewhat intimidating. He’s happy. He can see that you’re considering it. “Promise you’ll like it.”

You gulp, heartily, before wrapping your lips around the end of it. You’ve smoked cigarettes before, and you could only assume it would be similar.

Wrong.

You cough, sputter, gag from the invasion. He laughs at your expense, though he smooths a large palm up and down your back to soothe you. Your throat feels charred. It’s like the smoke has burnt holes throughout your oesophagus and the edges are scalding.

He gets up and walks towards a mini fridge you hadn’t noticed, tossing a bottle of water in your direction. And you drink it, quickly, the bottle crackling as you squeeze and drain it of every drop you can steal.

“S-Sorry,” you apologise, still coughing slightly. “That was embarrassing.”

“Yeah.” he agrees. “You really weren’t lying about it being your first time, hah?” he keeps going. Unfortunately for you, you don’t realise that he’s goading you. And it’s working.

You ask for another hit, out of principle. And of course, he smiles and hands it to you.

It gets easier, for sure. Soon enough, you’ve smoked the whole thing. He applauds you, impressed. But why does it make your ego swell? Your confidence soars, you don’t feel so shy anymore.

Not around him.

“C’mere,” he instructs, patting his thighs as an invitation. You look between his ruby red eyes and thick thighs as you decide whether you want to or not. You hesitate, a few times, before eventually standing up. He guides you down by your hips, your thighs straddling his while his hands dip beneath your skirt and thumbs stroke your skin soothingly.

Your eyes feel heavy, and he can’t help but smile when he sees how bloodshot they are. He can see how your eyes want to widen in shock. So utterly confused about how you got here.

He doesn’t give you a chance to think, though, not when his large hand cradles the crown of your head and pulls you towards himself. Your lips are caught together. It’s tame, to him. But to you it’s scandalous. A random hook up isn’t something you’ve ever done. You’re a long term relationship kind of girl.

But you can’t help yourself, now. His personality is magnetic, and his charm is captivating. You don’t want to disappoint him, for some reason. The thought of letting him down scares you. The idea of disobeying him makes your heart race.

That could just be the drugs, though.

You pull back, tracing your fingers over his body. A breathy gasp leaves you as he pulls off his vest, tossing it aside to reveal his chiselled body. Your cunt throbs as you feel how ripped he is. He’s the biggest man you’ve ever been with, like this, and he knows it too. He can tell by the look on your face.

The way you unashamedly squeeze his biceps. Two of your little hands aren’t even enough to wrap around the entire muscle.

He watches you, calmly, admiring how cute you look as you inspect every inch of his body.

“Having fun?” he asks, you give nothing but a dumb nod in response. His skin is smooth and you find yourself tracing a single finger over all of his tattoos. He guides you by your chin to look at him again, leaning forward to kiss you.

You reciprocate, allowing him to kiss you his way. He slips his tongue between the seam of your lips and two rough hands reach under your skirt and grab the fat of your ass. You wrap your legs around his back as he lifts you up, helping you back down so that your back is flat against the mattress.

He ruts his body against yours. And you can feel just how hard he is beneath his sweats. It’s huge, it feels huge. But you can barely focus as each dry humping of his hips stimulates your core.

“Fuck, need to fuck you,” he whispers against your ear and nibbling on the lobe. Your eyes roll back as he chokes you softly, and your own hips begin to buck as you search for more pleasure.

You’ve never felt so aroused before.

It’s like all of the blood is rushing to your core and pleading with you to stimulate yourself further. You need more. More. You wonder if anything will ever be enough, though.

“S’fucking cute, wan’ my cock bad, hah? Am I right?”

“F-Fuck me, please.” you whimper, screwing your eyes shut so that he can’t see how embarrassed you are.

He loosens his grip on your neck, moving it to cup your cheek instead. You instinctively open your mouth for him, and he lets out a soft laugh before pushing his thumb between your lips. He pulls down his sweatpants just enough to free his cock, eyes not leaving you for a second as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, bobbing and sucking all the while.

“I fucking knew it,” he speaks, “Always the quiet ones, always the dirtiest.”

You giggle a little, still suckling on his thumb like it was your sole purpose on this earth. He flips up your skirt to reveal a cute little g-string beneath.

“You don’t like parties? S’that why you came here dressed like a little whore?” he asks, pushing the material into the crease of your thigh. He lines his cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. “Sorry I didn’t prep ya, but you’re drenched anyway. Besides, a slut like you prob’ly doesn’t mind getting fucked like this.” he continues. He forces himself into you, ignoring the resistance until he’s snuggled inside.

He is huge.

The way your pussy splits open just to take the sheer girth of him makes you wonder if he’s even human. His cockhead nudges at your cervix, and every thrust he delivers hammers against it ruthlessly.

“H-Hurh…” you try to tell him that you’re hurting, but his thumb presses down on your thumb and it makes you gag. Though he slows down, knowing you were warning him. He isn’t a complete monster, after all. He’s a bit of a dick, sure, but he wants you to enjoy this, too.

His thrusts aren’t as deep anymore, sparing your poor cervix for the time being. The pain subsides and turns into something a lot more pleasant. So much so, that you can’t stop yourself from raking your nails across his back as he hits just the right spot inside of you with his enormous cock.

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, opting to squeeze the sides of your neck again instead. Your moans become lodged in your throat, and you can’t voice just how fucking perfect he feels inside of you. You’re close, so fucking close.

Though surprisingly, he cums first, loudly. Unable to withstand the blinding pleasure he feels as your tiny little cunt tightens around him. His body breaks out in a cold sweat as he moans, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. His restraint is lost, and he’s soon nudging against your cervix again, forcing every drop he can deep into your womb.

The warm feeling has your eyes crossing as you begin to spasm around him. He hisses, desperately, too overstimulated to keep quiet as your walls begin to hug his cock.

“You can stay the night, if you want.” Sukuna tells you, pulling himself out of your spent hole. He wipes his dick off on your inner thigh, though you barely register it as you think about what he said.

“Is this… Is this your house? Your party?”

“Little brother’s party. I live here, too.”

He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. You’re certainly a sweet girl, and you seem like the type to get attached. He has an ulterior motive in mind, though. Sure, maybe he’ll fuck you a few more times throughout the night. But he hopes you won’t be a fool and fall for him.

He has a goal for the following morning.

He wants to know how Yuuji’s girlfriend will react to seeing a girl leave his bedroom.

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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

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yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]

Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own

Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.

First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.

Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.

With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)

Part Two

Part Three

Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought.

He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself.

The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark.

God’s Beloved.

The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes.

The Holiest Woman in the World.

There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff.

Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance.

Yes, you were the Reverend Sister but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place.

The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes.

His Eyes that you now possessed.

No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.

You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision.

Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe.

He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever.

One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther.

“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.”

Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?

No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister.

Something is not right.

He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir.

If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.

You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision.

All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight, vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it?

This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return.

Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take.

That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser.

Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?

If the sight of seeing this Affection Level and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target.

Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”

Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor.

You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist.

Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered.

“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.

“Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”

Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation.

May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.

Taglist

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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere #ns.fw #yandere oc #yandere!holy knight #tw obsession #tw sui ideation #tw sui attempt #fem!reader #tw manipulation #cw manipulation #cw sui ideation #cw sui attempt #minors do not interact #mdni

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lilyminer · 2 months

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Hey y’all, I was scrolling Twitter and I think what Puffy has to say on the topic is so important.

I’ve learned from irl experience that manipulative and/or abusive people do not just manipulate their direct victims. Wilbur put up a completely different online persona, he made his content feel safe. He surrounded himself with truly trustworthy people. To say we should’ve known better, or feel shame for being part of his community is not a productive or healthy mindset.

It’s not any of our fault. The only thing we can control is where our attention is drawn to in his absence. And my wholehearted suggestion is we give Shelby the love she deserves.

Source:

#wilbur situation #tw abuse #tw manipulation #shelby shubble #Shubble

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months

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I worry about you (Clingy!Yandere x Delinquent!Reader)

CW: body trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior

"I don't understand, why are you saying these things?!" Everett shouted, tugging on (Reader's) jacket like a man fearful of drowning. The two stood at the top of a set of wooden outdoor stairs built into a steep hill in the city's little hiking trail/park, a meeting spot where they often hung out after school.

His brown eyes glowed under the sun like molten gold, churning with heartache as he held onto his only friend.

(Reader) kept their face rigid like stone, fighting the desire to retract what they had said, their decision was final. It was for Everett's own good. "Dude, stop acting crazy. You're acting like we were dating. I'm just saying that I need space. Go make other friends, go on dates, I don't care. Jesus, just stop hanging onto me all the time."

Lies, all lies. I don't mind how clingy you are. I love that you stay by my side. I know I have a shit personality, I know I'm trash, so I really appreciate that you're the only one to stay my friend. You've been my friend since we were ten years old, so please, PLEASE, fucking take the hint. I've seen that the teachers have started to treat you differently just because you're my friend. And how many times do I have to rescue you from wannabe thugs who only fuck with you because they hate me? You deserve better than that.

You deserve better than me.

(Reader) roughly shook their only friend off their arm. It was painful now, for both of them, but (Reader) knew it was for the best.

"But why? What did I do wrong?" Everett sniffled, rubbing his eyes as the waterworks persisted. (Reader) turned to leave, unable to watch Everett any longer without their resolve crumbling. "WAIT!" Everett panicked, reaching out to latch onto (Reader's) arm again. (Reader) felt his fingers brush against their arm, and threw back their elbow to push Everett away.

They didn't know, however, that Everett had stepped forward. (Reader) misjudged how hard to push, not knowing that Everett was closer than he was just a second ago. Their wrist smashed into Everett's chest, causing him to stumble backwards, and tumble down the stairs.

Eyes widening in fear, (Reader) immediately began sprinting down the steps, skipping two at a time on the way down as their friend bounced against the weathered wood, hitting the dirt at the bottom hard. Their heart was beating so fast it felt like they would have a heart attack as they jumped the last couple stairs, crouching over their best friend crying in the fetal position.

"Everett, oh my God, are you okay?!" They gingerly scooped his upper half into their lap, examining his head for injuries.

"My- my arm..." Everett cradled his arm, crushing (Reader) further with guilt.

Placing his head down carefully, (Reader) took off running, calling out for help in hopes that someone nearby had a phone to call an ambulance. They disappeared out of Everett's sight, hearing them hollering as they ran away.

As soon as (Reader) vanished from view, Everett stopped crying, sitting up miserably. How did this happen?

Everything had been going so perfectly. Everett had set himself up as a weak, innocent best friend for (Reader), tailoring his personality for the past eight years to ensure that (Reader) would never leave him. When his family uprooted his life at the age of ten, he already knew there was no chance of happiness in his future. It was hard enough convincing anyone at his old school to like a freak like him, but being a new kid on top of having a personality that for some reason pushed everyone away? Everett knew it was hopeless.

But it seemed fate had other plans for him. The very first day in the new home Everett attempted to climb the large tree in his fenceless backyard and slipped, falling out of one of the lower branches. It hadn't hurt all that much, really just stinging a bit, but he didn't have time to even sit up before his new neighbor was rushing over to help him, having witnessed the fall from their back window. (Reader) was an angel, the summer sunlight illuminating their form like a halo. They didn't waste a second, pulling Everett's body onto their back, struggling under his weight but forcing their tiny muscles to carry Everett to his parents. It didn't even hurt, and Everett was more than capable of walking on his own, but having someone his own age care about him for the first time in his entire ten years of life.. he played into it, relishing in the attention he was receiving, forcing large crocodile tears out in hopes (Reader) would stay by his side longer. And it worked.

It worked for eight years, so why were they pushing him away now?

He constantly allowed himself to trip in front of (Reader), embarrassing himself over and over to keep them paying attention to him. Even now, throwing himself backwards down a flight of stairs while making it look like an accident, just to prevent (Reader) from leaving him.

Unfortunately, nothing was actually broken on him. He glanced around, finding a rock almost too large to grasp in one hand. Unlike when they were children, Everett didn't believe crying would be enough to keep (Reader) by his side. He rolled up the sleeve on the arm he pretended was broken, biting down onto the front of his hoodie. It didn't matter if (Reader) was only with him out of guilt, it only mattered that they were with him.

Everett smiled through gritted teeth, thinking about (Reader) sitting next to him in the hospital, refusing to leave his side for even a second, then brought the heavy rock down onto his arm with an audible crack.

Please continue worrying about me.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere best friend #clingy yandere #yandere fanfiction #writing #not proofread #tw manipulation

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prncessrindou · 1 month

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fast n’ furious // repost from wakashawty

♱ CONTENT WARNING . . fem!reader, street racer!wakasa, unprotected sex, jealousy, waka scares reader w his driving, car sex, marijuana use, creampie and use of pet names.

♱ WORD COUNT . . 2.5k

“You did the damn thing tonight, Waka.” A woman said as she grinned in Wakasa’s face.

The track was the place to be on Friday nights. It’s where every racer got to show off their rides and skills behind the wheel. The money was something to look forward to, but Wakasa didn’t thrive off that. What get his adrenaline pumping is knowing the dangers and consequences behind it.

“Hm, you think so?” Wakasa asked the grinning woman.

As usual, Wakasa stolen another victory with his superior driving skills, winning the money fair and square. The other challenger was mean muggin him from afar, though Wakasa was unaware of this or just didn’t give a shit.

“Is it just me or is he mean muggin you?” The woman asked. Wakasa shrugged, “he’ll be alright.” He responded nonchalantly as he leaned back against his car.

You suddenly and purposefully stormed out by Wakasa and the women. You knew that Wakasa was popular with the women before getting into a relationship with him, though you thought it would’ve stopped when you guys finally came out, but all it did was get one hundred times worse.

Wakasa grabbed your arm, pulling you into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and biting your earlobe softly. The other girls watched in disbelief and walked away. Finally, he thought.

“Home.” You muttered. “Oh? Well, how are you going to get there, hm?” He asked with a teasing grin on his face.

“I’m walking!” You pushed away from his chest and looked around, “where did your little girlfriend run off to? You should go after her!” You spat.

Wakasa chuckled, “she’s right in front of me.” He said, “seeing you get all jealous is so sexy, princess.” He grabs your waist and pulls you into his chest once more, “especially in this skirt.” He begins tugging on it, “you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

You rolled your eyes, “I ain’t jealous.” You wouldn’t consider yourself as a person with low self esteem, but you never thought someone like Wakasa Imaushi would be interested in you. When he first asked you out, you turned him down. Simply because you thought he was out of your league and Wakasa never had a woman to turn him down. Ever… He knew then and there that you were the one and he had to have you.

“But, you are totally jealous.” He responded, “and I think it’s hot.” He whispered into your ear, gripping on the plush of your ass. You hit his chest and he chuckled, “we’re in public, you perv!” You squealed.

“And? I’m just grabbing what’s mine.” Wakasa said as he placed a kiss on your nose.

You couldn’t help, but smile. Wakasa was good at making you smile, no matter the situation.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his soft lips. “Hm, I think I deserve more than just one kiss, baby.” Wakasa grinned. You hummed, “you did win tonight so I guess you do deserve an reward.” You said, kissing his soft lips.

Suddenly a group of girls came out of nowhere, “Hey, Wakaaa!” They shouted loudly. “Are you coming to the kickback?” One girl out the group asked.

“When is it starting?” Wakasa asked, letting go of your waist and turning his attention to the girls.

“It’s going on now.” A girl responded, “we’re heading there now, you should come and… bring your lady friend.” The girl teased.

Oh, this fucking bitch.

“Sounds like it’ll be fun.. wanna swing by, baby?” Wakasa turns his attention towards you. You now have your arms folded, making your breast sit up high and his dick twitches upon seeing it.

He wants to put his face in them in front of these girls.

“Swing by your fucking self!” You walked off, bumping into him with as much force as you could and walking to the passenger side of his car, getting in and slamming the door as hard as you could.

The girls were speechless after seeing your behavior and honestly, you, yourself weren’t too happy with how you handled it. You wish you didn’t get so worked up because that’s what they want you to do so they can get a good laugh about how they got under your skin.

Wakasa waved his arms up in the air, “what gives, baby?” He mouthed. You flipped him off and he sighed deeply. Suddenly, he got in the car and started it; he pulled off on the girls, leaving them where they stood. The car ride was silent, you were looking out through the window as Wakasa drove down the dark highway. “Ya’ hungry?” He finally broke the silence.

You didn’t respond, you remained looking out the window. Wakasa leaned over and opened the glove department, taking out a already rolled up blunt. “So yer’ not gonna talk to me? Gonna give me the silent treatment?” He spoken up, putting the blunt to his mouth and lighting it up, inhaling it.

You remained silent, just shifting in your seat. Waka sighed, exhaling the smoke. He pressed his foot down on the gas, pushing eighty miles.

You noticed the car speed difference. You glanced over and saw that Wakasa was pushing eighty, but you still refused to say anything to him. You wasn’t about to give in and say anything to him about the speed, thinking he’d just slow down eventually, but that wasn’t the case at all.

The engine was roaring as Wakasa pushed the gas, one hand on the steering wheel while the other hand held onto the blunt, putting it up to his mouth here and there. Now he was pushing ninety, and you were getting a little nervous.

Wakasa didn’t say a word, eyes fixated on the road as the cars speed was getting higher. “Hey, Waka.. slow down a bit.” You finally spoke, looking at Wakasa.

He didn’t respond nor acknowledge you, he kept his eyes strictly on the road. Your heart was beating out of your chest as the speed reached ninety, getting closer and closer to one-hundred. “Damnit, Wakasa! Slow the fuck down now!” You screamed.

Wakasa abruptly pressed down on the breaks, the car screeching to a stop. Your hands went to the dashboard, breathing heavily as the car finally came to a stop. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled, voice wobbly from being scared half to death.

Wakasa starts to laugh, “my bad, baby.” He said, “jus’ wanted you to say some’ to me.”

“And you thought pulling some shit like that would do the trick? You’re really a jackass, Waka!” You spat, you were on the verge of tears because you really got frighten.

Don’t cry in front of him, don’t be a pussy!

Wakasa peeped your voice change, “hey, look at me..” he grabbed your attention by grabbing your chin, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’.” He said, “don’t cry.. you’re too pretty for that.” His thumb wiping away your tears.

“Whatever,” you sniffed, “just take me home, please.”

Wakasa doesn’t say anything else and just nods. He presses his foot on the gas gently and drives away. But, instead of taking you home like you wished, he takes you to a secluded spot. A spot you and him usually go to after his races.

“What are we doing here?” You questioned.

He backed the car in, placed it in park and turned off the engine. He adjusted his seat and leaned back in it, “you still mad at me?” He asked, his voice was low and deep.

“What do you think?” You questioned, with a bit of bite in your tone.

“C’mere.” Wakasa said. You gave it some thought and gave in, climbing over and sat in front of him on his lap.

His tatted hands were rubbing your exposed plush thighs. The way you were sitting, you could feel his cock underneath you. “Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to scare you. Can you forgive me?” He asked, half lidded eyes staring at you.

You rolled your eyes and you shrugged. Wakasa chuckled lowly. “What’s funny?” You asked.

“Nothin’.. you’re just sexy as hell when you’re mad.” He replied, “and y’know what else?”

“I dunno.. what?”

He licked his lips, “I also get mad and jealous too.. like earlier before the race started, I saw you talking to a few dudes… and I saw how they were checking you out.” He squeezed your thighs, “it pissed me off.. I wanted to bend you over in front of those fuckers to let them know who you belong to.” Wakasa said.

“Why didn’t you if it pissed you off that much?” You questioned, using your finger to trace over his exposed tatted chest.

Wakasa chuckled, “You really would’ve let me fuck you in front of everybody?”

“Dunno, maybe.” You shrugged.

Wakasa lazily smiled, “don’t play with me, miss we’re in public.”

“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled. Wakasa chuckled lowly, continuing to rub your thighs. “But,” he begins to speak, “all jokes aside, I really am sorry.” He says.

You sigh deeply, “I guess I can forgive you.. you’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.” Wakasa grins. You lean down to place a kiss on his lips, not realizing what you were actually doing in the process.

“Mm, do that again.” Wakasa says lowly. Wakasa groaned as you leaned over again, but stops you midway and grabs your hips, moving you back and forth as you sat on his lap, grinding on his clothed cock.

You felt his cock harden as you grind on his lap, Waka groaned once more at the friction you were causing, “fuck.. if you keep that up, you might start something you can’t finish.” he says, squeezing your thighs with his hands.

“Who says I can’t finish it?” you questioned, smashing your lip against his for a passionate kiss, you could taste a bit of mint from the gum Wakasa had earlier. You pulled away from his lips, “I always finish what I start.”

Wakasa grinned and licked his lips, your confidence amusing to him, “then show me.” He said, “show daddy how you finish shit.”

“With pleasure.” You said, unzipping Wakasa pants and his hard cock sprung up from his jeans, the tip oozing out pre cum. You raised your hips up, lifting your skirt up as Wakasa helped pulled your panties to the side. “A thong, huh? Fuck..” he said, biting his lips at the sight of your bare cunt.

He rubbed his tip against your folds, gathering your slick. You moaned at the friction and allowed him to slip inside of your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuckkk—” you moaned, your walls burning at how his cock was stretching you out.

You didn’t move your hips at all, it was almost as if you were cockwarming him. “Wakaaa, you’re so— shit!” You sobbed, laying your head in the crook of his neck. The smell of his cologne hitting your nostrils; you placed wet kisses on his neck.

“Mm, is my pretty girl gonna ride me?” His hands on the globe of your ass, squeezing your plushy skin. You nodded your head profusely, rocking your hips back and forth on his dick. He was huge to say the less, his dick dragging against your walls with every movement you made.

Wakasa watched as you bounced on his length, feeling the buzz from the weed he smoked earlier. He’s digging his nails into your skin, trying so desperately to control himself from slamming you down on his dick and fucking you dumb. Your pussy is clenching and spasming around him, he’s getting dizzy from it.

“Fuck, princess.. yer’ pussy squeezing the shit outta me!” Wakasa murmured, throwing his head back against the seat as you rocked him. He looks so pretty like this, surrounded in bliss as pleasure took over him.

You lifted your hips up, his length shining with your slick and his tip remained the only thing in your wet folds as you began moving your hips in a different way.. a way that would drive him crazy.

W— A— K—, your hips spelled out the first three letters of his name and then the forth, A—.

“Fuckkkk—,” Wakasa realized what you were doing, “that’s so sexy, shit baby..” biting his bottom lip and letting you continue doing what you were doing. S— A—.. by the time you finished the last word, he slammed your hips down; his fat tip practically tasting your spongy core and his length pulsating against your warm walls. “Ohhh- my! Fuck, Wakaaa!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifted your ass up and down his dick.

His fingers were digging into your skin, enough to leave marks on your skin for the next day. You felt yourself coming undone as he repeatedly pounded your core. “Shit, m’ cummin! M’ cumminnnn!” You sobbed, Wakasa then guided your hips to go back and forth, practically grinding your clit against him.

“Heh,” he chuckled, “make a mess then, baby.” He said as he smacked your ass.

That was all he needed to say for you to snap. You sobbed Wakasa’s name like it was a sacred prayer as your high came washing over you like it was a tidal wave.

You knew Waka was close from how his dick was twitching inside of you. He continued rocking your hips back and forth while squeezing his eyes shut, groaning in your ear as pleasure took over him, spraying your walls with his warm cum. “Mmh, fuckkk,” he growled, gripping and slapping your ass as he came down from his high.

You both were out of breath, completely spent. Wakasa chuckles, throwing his head back against the seat, “so when were you gonna tell me you could do that freaky shit?” He asked, his large hands rubbing your ass.

You giggled, snuggling your face into his chest, “it was the spur of the moment type thing.. I was just trying something.”

“Hm,” Wakasa hums, “spur of the moment, huh? Well, it was hot as fuck.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much.” You leaned up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. You felt Wakasa’s dick harden back up as it remained inside of you. You broke away from the kiss, “tell me you’re not serious..!?” you said, Wakasa was grinning from ear to ear, “well, what can I say? You still owe me my reward for winning tonight.”

You arched your brow, “what are you talking about?” You questioned, “we literally just fucked.”

“Yeahhh, I know we did,” Waka said, “but, you was just proving to me you can finish what you start… proving yourself and giving a reward are two different things, princess.”

You rolled your eyes and you couldn’t help, but smile. “What am I going to do with you, Wakasa Imaushi?”

Wakasa laughed, his laugh was warm and his smile had butterflies swarming around in your stomach. “I don’t know, baby.” He said, suddenly smashing his lips against yours. He began moving your hips again, squelching sounds filled the car as he did so. The friction causing you to squeal in his mouth.

He broke away from the kiss, grinning from how you reacted to him moving your hips, “but, I know what I’m going to do with you though.” He smiles before sealing your lips with a kiss.

#prncessrindou post #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #wakasa imaushi #tokrev wakasa #wakasa imaushi smut #tokrev #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa x reader #tokyo revengers wakasa #wakasa smut #tw manipulation #tokrev x reader #tr wakasa

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toxicanonymity · 11 months

Text

The cold, cold night. Left in Lincoln, part 3

6.9k | dark!dad's best friend!Joel x virgin f!Reader

story master list / joel miller master list

You slid under the quilt face-down, half on top of him, not waiting for him to make room. You kissed his cheek and he smiled with his eyes. His hair was messier, and you liked it that way, but when you touched it he bristled, then raked his hand through to straighten it. "I love it," you said. He sighed with a twinkle in his eye. "Well, if she loves it."

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, slow-burn horror w/ disturbing (implicit) content, big girthy age gap, "plot," angst, pining, toxic fluff, gaslighting, manipulation, pressure, fingering, oral F receiving, unsettling P in V sex dream, use of pet names and praise, trapped animal. Very TOXIC, dark Joel (psychological dead dove do not eat). Too long but didn't feel I could break it up. Smut may have edging properties sry just wrote what felt natural.

You tucked yourself into bed and admired the special apple blossom from Joel's orchard. You slowly rolled the little stem between your fingers, feeling guilty for making Joel walk home alone. He was so patient with you. So understanding. All he wanted was to be close to you. You hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. You wanted to be close to him, too. You weren’t sure what was holding you back.

You put the flower on your nightstand and stared at the spot on your ceiling, trying to feel Joel’s arms around you. Soon, you were thinking about his stiff cock against you, between your legs. You ran your hands down your sides and thought about his hands guiding you up and down. You could hear the echo of him talking you through your orgasm. You touched yourself but didn’t get there. You wondered if he could teach you. But more than anything, you wanted to feel him against you, then inside you. Maybe you could have, if you hadn’t sent him home. You drifted off feeling guilty and regretful.

You dreamed of Joel. You were back on top of him, straddling him with your arms around his neck. You moved yourself up and down, gliding slickly and firmly against his shaft, doing it all on your own this time. You were grinding against his hard cock, his hands resting on your back. But something felt off. His face was clean-shaven and vacant. Void not only of enjoyment, but of recognition. He was in a trance, looking through you. He didn't speak at all.

You dragged yourself up his shaft one more time, and his cock stayed upright as you claimed the head. His eyes watered, but he remained perfectly still. You sank down on him, sliding easily into his lap. It didn't hurt. You felt nothing but full of him, filled to the brim, and it felt so right. He didn't blink. You pushed yourself up and started riding him. He finally looked at you, just as a clatter shook you awake in real life.

Your heart pounded in your ears. You got up and went straight to the window. Finally, the stillness in the air was gone, replaced by a howling wind. The clatter was most likely nothing sinister. Anything could have been bowled over by the wind. Regardless, you looked forward to putting your mind at ease the next day by looking at the surveillance footage with Abe. You left the curtain open a little to avoid pitch black darkness.

You needed to sleep. This was becoming unsustainable. You couldn’t have every noise jolting you awake, making you look over your shoulder. This fierce independence, it was a valiant effort. Bill would be proud, but you were tired of torturing yourself. You considered asking Joel to stay over in the future. You told yourself next time, you'd at least let him tuck you in. But something still held you back. You could feel it, even as you told yourself you should do it.

You slowly blinked awake when light poured in between your curtains. The apple blossom on your nightstand was wilted and discolored, the edges dark, but you couldn’t bear to throw it away. You wished you had put it in water. It was the most special flower in the world and you just let it shrivel. If you let Joel tuck you in, he would've taken good care of it.

By the time you got dressed, It was almost afternoon. The wind brought with it a cold front. You put on jeans, a flannel shirt, boots, and a jacket to do some chores and groundskeeping. You stayed close to the house so you wouldn’t miss Abe when he came. You tended the garden, evaluating what you could harvest before protecting it from the cold. The cold brought other challenges, too. You were nervous about using the heater for the first time on your own.

You looked up at your bedroom window, curious how much someone could see from outside if you were to open your curtains all the way. As you were looking, you heard a similar sound to the rustling you heard at night. With a slight echo, yet somehow quieter. You tried to sense where the noise was coming from and spotted a vent on the back of the house, close to the ground.

You stood up and brushed the dirt off your knees as you slowly walked toward the house. The closer you got, the louder the sound. You crouched down and looked at the vent. The noise subsided. You laid down on your belly and inspected the metal, trying to look through the slits, but you couldn’t see anything. You would have to get a screwdriver if you really wanted to look.

You got back up on your knees and sat there listening for a minute, fingering the cool, metal flaps of the vent. You planted one foot on the ground to stand up, then the vent shook violently with an echoing crash. Your heart jumped and you instinctively hit back at the vent. The loud metal bang from your hand further startled you. Your heart raced. When you looked at the ground, there was a small, black feather. You went to the basement to get a screwdriver, but the door was locked. You darted inside but couldn’t find the key.

There had to be another screwdriver somewhere. Knowing Bill, the house was probably full of them, but you knew of one other place for sure. Since the noise had been tormenting you, the task felt urgent. So you went to the place you were sure of - a small, wooden storage shed next to the meat curing one. The shed was about the size of a small bedroom and there was something about it you didn’t like. Notably, one time you got a face full of spiderwebs.

It’s a vivid memory: You screamed and thrashed, even tore your shirt off over your head. Frank came running outside in a panic. You asked him to hose you down but instead he got you to calm down long enough for him to get all the webbing off. Then he held you still with his hands on your shoulders and told you to breathe. He took a big breath in with you then let it out. He said, “we’re gonna get through this, honey,” and he couldn’t finish the sentence without laughing. Once you could breathe again, you laughed too. All three of you referred to it as The Spider Shed after that.

The Spider Shed still wasn’t a happy place, despite the warm memory. Your palms were sweating as you got closer, and you wiped them on your flannel shirt. The door wasn’t all the way shut. There was a trick to shutting it and it came undone easily. It was on Bill’s list to fix. No spiderwebs in sight today, from the outside at least.

You were only a foot away from the shed when a big gust of wind made the door flap and creak. You took a deep breath, trying to slow your heart rate. Then you grabbed the metal handle and opened the door. Your breath hitched when you saw what looked like a thick cobweb. Once your eyes focused, you could see it was just a net trap. Fortunately, the tool box was right there, so you didn’t have to look around, much less go inside. You opened the box and got a screwdriver and flashlight. You pressed the button on the flashlight and it didn't work. You smacked the bottom and it flickered.

You went back to the vent, but the sound was gone. You unscrewed the corners of the metal plate anyway and carefully took it off. There were more feathers and a couple of sunflower seeds, but no sign of the bird. You weren’t sure what the vent was for, or how long you could leave the cover off, but you left it open while you finished the garden work, keeping an eye on any critters to make sure they wouldn’t meet the same fate. You were relieved to know the source of the sound.

–

You decided to make a little snack for you and Abe. Having company was so rare, and you wanted to show your appreciation. You sliced up some vegetables and homemade bread. You got out two glasses for drinks. It was too early for wine in your understanding.

You looked in the cooler and you were out of apple juice but there was still some cider left. The fact that it was from Joel made you want to taste it, but you weren’t clear on how strong it was. When you unscrewed the lid, it smelled weird which gave you your answer. No thank you. Maybe if Joel was there - you couldn't imagine you would have tried the whiskey without him.

Thinking about the apples made you feel warm and fuzzy for Joel. Thinking about the whiskey made you yearn for his touch. You badly wanted to go over there and make apple juice together, but you didn't want to miss Abe when he came by, so you stayed home. But as the day went on, there was still no sign of Abe. Even as it became late enough for wine.

You finally thought to turn on your radio. You turned it to Abe's station, and Call Me by Blondie was playing. It was on one of your favorite tapes. Frank always called it the gigolo song, which made you laugh. But your warm memory was soon overtaken by dread when you remembered the radio code. Eighties meant trouble. Someone might have breached the perimeter. You weren't sure which would be worse - Infected or people. Bill always said desperate people were more dangerous than anything, but Infected terrified you.

Next on the radio, the same song played again. Unsure if you forgot how long the song was, you brushed it off. But when it began to play a third time, your stomach turned. You opened the tape deck to make sure it was in fact the radio playing. The tape deck was empty. It was the radio, and there was no telling how many times the song had played before you turned it on. Twenty seconds into the fourth time you heard it, the music slowed down. Low and distorted, “Color me youuurr colloorrrrrr baaaaabyyyyy,” and your arms erupted in goosebumps. Then it abruptly cut off and there was silence. Just static. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

You adjusted the antenna. Nothing. You checked the Boston QZ station to make sure there wasn't something wrong with your radio. You heard The Doors loud and clear. Then you put it back to Abe's channel and left it there. As haunting as the static was, it was your only way to find out what was going on - Unless you wanted to go out in the cold, dark night.

You wished Joel was with you. He would protect you. If Joel knew of any trouble, he would have come over immediately to make sure you were okay. So either he didn't know, or he couldn’t come. Your chest ached at the thought that something bad might have happened to him. You prayed he was okay.

You were tempted to walk to Joel’s house, but you tried to channel Bill. Bill’s voice in your head said you were already in the safest place possible, and you should stay put and arm yourself. The guns were in the basement, which was locked from both doors, inside and outside. You tried picking the outside lock first since the sun was going down. The air was chilly and your fingers were getting numb. You didn’t have any luck, but you remembered to put the vent back on. While you were on your knees doing it, you noticed a rock near the basement door. The key was underneath.

Once you got the door open, the basement was completely dark. None of the surveillance computers were on. Your heart went to your throat. Even though you hadn't checked the monitors, knowing they were there had given you comfort. You were convinced that the noises were harmless, but you were looking forward to seeing proof when Abe came by.

You turned on the light and looked at the wall of firearms. You got two guns, a long one and a short one, and brought the basement key with you.

You stayed inside listening to the dead leaves rustling loudly in the wind over the quiet static of the radio. And then finally, music. Cream, Sunshine of Your Love. You finally exhaled. Whatever trouble there was had been resolved, according to the radio code. And yet, it didn't resolve your nerves. You couldn't get the haunting, twisted version of Call Me out of your head. It drowned out the song you liked.

You got hungry and realized you hadn’t eaten. For a late dinner, you ate the snack you made for you and Abe. You hadn't seen any sign of trouble yet. You considered going to the basement and trying to fix all the surveillance, but the worst case scenario would be if a dangerous stranger ended up in there with you with a wall full of guns. So you kept it locked and stayed on the sofa, thinking about Joel. Worrying about Joel. Wishing Joel was there, until you calmed down enough to get sleepy.

You must have dozed off, because the sound of a vehicle jolted you awake. When you registered what sounded like Abe’s truck, you somewhat relaxed in relief, but by the time you reached the window, you couldn’t see it. At least he was okay. You went upstairs to bed and took the pistol with you. Tomorrow, in the daylight, you would walk to Joel’s house and find out what happened.

You were afraid of the dark that night and left your curtain cracked open despite the cold. You put the pistol on your nightstand and laid in your bed. Within minutes, the sounds started again. The flapping. The rustling. You let it fade into the background and focused on the sounds of the wind. The sound of dead leaves dancing around outside got louder and a chill fell over you. You got an extra quilt out from under your bed and bundled up, but it wasn’t just the weather. It was also the coldness of being without Joel. It was so cozy having his arms around you, you could hardly fathom how warm you’d be with him inside you. Your loins heated up at the thought of it.

You fell asleep, and it didn’t feel like you were asleep for long before you suddenly awoke. Your eyes adjusted to find a dark silhouette in the corner of your room. You nearly choked on your gasp, then sat up and grabbed the gun. You tried to steady your hands, hoping your eyes were deceiving you. You didn't aim it yet, hoping it was a shadow from outside.

"It's me, peaches." Joel cautiously stepped into the moonlight. He had his hands in a low surrender position, but was surprisingly calm. "You okay?” He looked at you concerned. “Can ya put that down for me?"

Your hand shook as you put the pistol back on your nightstand.

"Joel?”

"It's okay, baby. You're safe."

“What is going on?" Your heart raced, but you were glad Joel was there.

"Heard a car. Woke me up. Looked outside, saw someone walkin' over here." He stepped closer and put his hands down.

A pit formed in your stomach. He sat down on your bed and stroked the arm of your flannel pajamas.

"Came to check on ya.” He hesitated. “Don’t wanna scare ya, but your back door was open, darlin',” he said regretfully.

Your eyes hurt and all the skin on your head tightened. No wonder it got so chilly. You hoped he wouldn't notice what became of the apple blossom.

"Cleared the house. Had to see you were okay." You imagined him checking on you then being unable to pull himself away, so protective that he needed to quietly watch you all night.

"Thank you," you whispered, then told him, "The surveillance is down. Abe never came."

"Yeah," Joel whispered. "I dunno what’s goin’ on, but I can't leave you here alone, okay?"

You nodded. He took off his jacket, and you scooted over to make room for him, but he didn’t settle in. The rustling noise returned. Joel listened to it and studied your face. You didn't react, except to say “I think it’s a bird.”

“Hmm," he nodded thoughtfully. "Prolly so then, darlin’.” He squeezed your knee. He sat with you for a moment in silence, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “Goin’ downstairs, okay?" His voice was soft and reassuring. "So I can stop any trouble.”

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered.

He looked at you affectionately and his hand cupped your face.

"Please stay," you begged.

He looked conflicted. “Okay, baby. Just 'til you fall asleep.” He brought his feet up on the bed - his boots were already off. He settled in next to you. He stayed on top of the bedding but got under the top quilt when you offered it. He leaned on his side and put one forearm above your head on your pillow, draping his other arm over you. He smelled like clean laundry, and his hair was a little damp. “You okay?” he said in a smooth, near-whisper. “Bet that was scary.” He was so close to your ear, you could feel the wind and vibration of his voice and it gave you a chill of arousal.

“I’m okay now, yeah.”

"Soon as you fall asleep, I'm goin' down, k?" Joel’s head came closer to yours and you could smell notes of whiskey under his aftershave. He looked at you with concern. “I’ll be right downstairs.”

“Yeah.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, then you looked at each other for a moment, and you lifted your head slightly off the pillow.

“Shhh,” he said, brow furled, and slid his hand under your head. You let your head down into his hand and watched his face soften. "You're safe, baby. I'm here."

His eyes closed as he put his forehead against yours. His nose brushed yours, then his lips pressed into yours and you pressed back. It sent a warm rush through your body, and you wanted more. He broke the kiss to look at you and his thumb brushed your temple. He kissed you again, tenderly on the top lip, then on the bottom, then pressed his lips into both of yours at an angle. His lips lingered there and parted, gently pulling at your mouth, not breaching it. He pulled away then planted one last, delicate kiss. “Night, peaches.”

He rested his head on the flannel of his bicep. You closed your eyes, but it took time to fall asleep. You slowed your breathing, and when you were almost asleep, Joel carefully got off the bed.

When you woke up, the house was warmer. Joel must have turned the heat on for you. You went downstairs and he was on the sofa. The poor guy stayed up all night keeping you safe. You sat on the edge of the couch and he stretched with a groan.

"Mornin', peaches." He set his hand on your lap.

In the light, you could see your flannel pants and button-up were similar to his shirt.

"Mornin'." You planned to ask him all about the night before, but once he was in front of you, you just wanted to be close to him. You could always ask him later over breakfast.

You slid under the quilt and laid face-down, half on top of him, not waiting for him to make room. You kissed his cheek and he smiled with his eyes. His hair was messier, and you liked it that way, but when you touched it he bristled, then raked his hand through to straighten it.

"I love it," you said.

He sighed with a twinkle in his eye, "well if she loves it," and stopped messing with it.

You smiled at him. He looked at you and his eyes darkened warmly. Then you felt a shape harden in his jeans and his hips lifted slightly. He hummed “Mmm,” as he looked at your mouth and brushed your elbow with his thumb.

"C'mere, gorgeous," he whispered and gave you a kiss, sending a rush through your body. He pulled back to look at you and he looked so tired. Your heart swelled at the thought of him staying up all night to protect you. Your desire swelled at the feeling of his arousal against you.

"You must be tired. Come take a nap with me," you urged. "It's warmer upstairs."

You got back on your bed and Joel stood at the foot of it, scanning your room. It was his first time there in the daylight. You could faintly see the thick silhouette of his dick in his jeans and you couldn’t take your eyes off it as he took off his jacket. He watched you watch him and his eyes darkened more. The mattress groaned under the weight of his knees. As he stretched out next to you, he sighed as if his bones ached, then laid his massive hand on your waist.

He looked from your eyes to your mouth and back then murmured lowly, "Nap really all you want?"

Your face burned as he watched your eyes expectantly. "Just wanna be with you," you answered quietly.

His deep voice became nearly a whisper. "Love hearin' that, baby."

He got closer with a sigh then pulled you up against him. With both of you on your sides, he tenderly pressed his lips into yours, then the kiss heated up. His hand traveled down from your waist, over your ass, to your hamstring, and you found your knee hooking over his hip, bringing your loins closer. He sucked your soft lips, then parted them with his tongue and sucked your mouth.

For several minutes, you held him tight with his arms over yours and your faces joined together. You felt so much better in his arms, under his hands, between his lips. You felt safe and cared for. He softly moaned as he kissed you and his arousal swelled against you. He slipped his hand under your flannel top and lightly brushed your lower back which was beading with tiny droplets of sweat.

“You warm?” he whispered. His cheeks were pink and his lips were flushed.

“Yeah,” you answered.

Joel backed up enough to access your clothes. He slowly unbuttoned your top, planting a kiss on your mouth between each button, the hungry look in his eyes not matching his slow and patient pace. Then, with all the buttons unfastened, he gently hung the side you weren't lying on behind your back and the collar fell off your shoulder but the sleeve stayed on. He inhaled sharply at the sight of your breasts.

“My lands,” he murmured, hypnotized by your body. Then he looked back up to your eyes and said, “You’re so pretty I can hardly take it, darlin’.”

He pulled you tight against him and kissed you hard, inhaling deeply through his nose. Then he rolled toward you and his chest against yours turned you on your back. As he kissed you, he worked one of his knees between your thighs and you opened them. He kneeled between your legs and lowered his hips, pressing his jeans against your flannel clad crotch. You sighed at the swell of his hardness and he moaned “Mmm,” then tore his lips away from yours.

He kissed your cheek, then your chin, and your neck, where he paused to suck and lick. He made his way down to your shoulder, where he nudged your pajama top the rest of the way off. You took your arms out of the sleeves obediently, leaving the sleep shirt lying under you. He kissed between your breasts where there was a fine dew of humidity, and looked up at you as he dragged his lips down to your belly button, where he stopped to plant a long, open mouth kiss. His fingers hooked into your flannel waistband. You squirmed uncomfortably, which he expected.

“Baby, you’re perfect. I’ve seen you," he said. "So perfect. . . Like a beautiful blossom.” He pleaded softly with desperate eyes, "just trust me."

“Okay,” you whispered.

He slowly lowered your waistband, and you lifted your hips for him to take it under your butt. As soon as your hair was exposed, he laid his cheek down on it and hugged you with his hands against your ass cheeks, fingers pressing hungrily into your flesh, breathing deeply. He gently kissed the crease where your thigh met your pelvis, then lightly dragged his tongue along the other crease. He buried his mouth in your mound, inhaling and moaning softly. Then he dragged his lips down and his mouth engulfed your clit, gently prodding it with his tongue. It felt so good, but you still couldn’t quite relax. You were too self-conscious.

"You don't have to do that," you told him.

His voice was quiet and low. “Course I don’t, darlin’, if you don’t want me to.” He looked up at you from between your legs with big, sad eyes. “Doesn’t feel good?” He caressed one of your creases with his thumb. "Is it my beard? Shoulda shaved."

"No, it's fine," you said. He was so careful, his facial hair didn't bother you, and after your eerie dream, you didn't want to see him unshaven.

He hooked his thick digits into your waistband again, now midway down your thigh, and finished taking the pants off you. He sat between your naked legs fully clothed and rolled up his sleeves, forearms flexing. You were still tense. “It’s okay, baby. You can tell me what you want.”

His soothing voice made it spill right out of your mouth. What you'd been craving so bad. What you couldn't stop thinking about.

“I want you inside me.” Your face burned as soon as you said it. You looked down, unable to suck the words back into your mouth. Then you hesitantly looked back up at him.

His eyes were wide and his face relaxed in wonder, but he was quiet for a moment. Still and quiet.

“Baby, I’d like nothin’ more,” he murmured. And yet he was saying no, you could tell. Your tear ducts felt weak. “You’re not ready yet, peaches. We'll get there, I promise.” He acted like the two of you had all the time in the world.

"What do you mean I'm not ready?"

He twisted onto his side. "Well, you're still shy with me, darlin'. Haven't even touched it yet." He firmly cupped the hard shape in his jeans. "Gotta make sure you really want it." He wet his lips. His breaths grew heavier and his forearm flexed as he slowly rubbed himself a few times, watching your disappointment.

"Puttin' our bodies together like that. . .It's somethin' real special."

He rolled back onto his stomach and returned his head to hover between your legs but kept his eyes on your face. "Means givin' each other everything. And you gotta be sure, ‘cause you can't get it back." He rested his cheek on your inner thigh, caressing your outer thigh with his calloused hand. "If ya don't want me down here, you're not ready for it, peaches. You're not givin' me everything."

You were dejected and confused. Surely he had given himself to someone before, but he made it sound like it was his first time, too.

"Haven't you already. . . given yourself?"

"No, darlin'.” He shook his head. “Not even close. This is different."

"'Cause I've never done it?" Your eyes felt weaker and weaker.

"No. Different 'cause I love you, peaches."

Your waterline was overtaken by a tear, but not the one you expected. Joel pried his head away from your crotch and moved upward on your body to hover over you, resting his forearms to the sides of your torso.

He rested his chest and stomach on you, but not all his weight.

"Hey, it’s okay. I told you we'll get there."

"I'm not - I just - hearing you say that."

"That I love you?" He kissed a tear off your cheek.

You swallowed thickly. "Yeah."

“I think ya knew that, darlin’.” He planted a chaste kiss on your lips, then your cheek, swallowing another tear.

You wanted to say it back, but you didn’t want him to think you were just saying it because he said it.

"I don't know anything," you said. “I’m sorry.” You swallowed your shame, not meeting his eyes.

He looked concerned. “For what?”

“Not knowing how to love you.”

He allowed a moment of silence, reading your eyes, then said, "You’re doin’ perfect.” He kissed you again. "Just take your time, baby. And let me love you."

He lifted himself up, reached down between your legs, and dragged his thick middle finger through your slick. Then he slowly stroked you with two fingers and gently nestled your clit between them.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered. Opening your legs to him felt like the least you could do.

“Good girl.”

He paused on his way back down your body. He cupped a breast. His eyes took you in as he gently manipulated your flesh then planted a kiss just below the nipple. He did the same with your other breast.

His mouth returned between your legs, planting a kiss on your clit while holding eye contact. "Feel good?"

Your eyes closed and you took a deep breath. You were still tense.

"Talk to me, baby. What feels good? You want my hand?"

He reached down to your ankle and used three fingers to languidly trace a line all the way up to your knee, then down your thigh. He gave your thigh a slow squeeze, then brought his fingers between your legs. He slid the side of his index finger along your dripping seam, then began to caress your entrance without breaching it. He inhaled deeply, then gathered your wetness with several fingers and circled your clit gently. "You want this?"

You couldn't make words.

When you didn't answer right way, he took his hand away and silently sucked his fingers, closing his eyes in pleasure. He looked to you again for an answer, but didn’t press you for one.

He brought head down again. “Or you want it like this,” he murmured. He french kissed the spot between your clit and entrance, and you sighed. That was what you wanted. He perked up at the sound of your sigh and looked up at you with his mouth still occupied. He was determined to learn how to please you.

“Feels really good, but you don't have to do that,” you repeated.

He lifted his head and frowned. "Why wouldn't I wanna make you feel good?"

"Isn't it kinda gross?"

"Baby. Nothin' gross about havin' my face in the most special place in the world."

"Really?"

"Nowhere I'd rather be, peaches."

"You're just saying that."

"Feels good for me, too. Real good. It's s'posed to."

"You don't mind?"

"I love it. Turns me on. It’s s’posed to, darlin’, and it does. You got nothin’ to be shy about."

"Doesn’t taste bad?”

“Baby, you’re my favorite taste in the world.” He buried his nose in your clit and fingered the curls on your mound.

“You're not just doing it to make me feel good?"

He paused, then softly answered, “No. But even if I was. Long as you felt good, I’d love it.” He reached to massage your breast with one hand “But it turns me on a whole lot, you'll see.”

He pulled his head back, the bottom of his face shiny and pink, then got up on his knees, his eyes locked with yours.

He wasn’t wearing a belt. Your breath hitched as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans so quickly in contrast to how slow he was doing everything else. He left the back of his flannel shirt tucked in as he took his stiff member out of his boxers. He held it in his hand only for a moment with his shirt out of the way so you could see. You had seen it before, but seeing it again, he sure was big. For a second you even felt foolish for wanting him inside you when he wouldn't fit. Still, a mere glimpse of it made you tingle wildly.

With how wet you were getting, you'd be even more embarrassed for him to put his head back down there. Unless it really was his favorite taste in the world.

He didn’t stroke himself, simply set his length outside his jeans, forming a tent under his flannel. “Lemme really taste you, baby, then you'll see.” He got back down on his elbows.

“Okay,” you said. By then, you were dying for his touch.

He put your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on top of your thighs. He kissed your inner thigh again with his mouth closed, then planted a wetter kiss on the other one. He kissed his way closer and closer, dipping his tongue, pressing the flats of his teeth against your soft flesh. By the time he got there, you were dying for his mouth, no longer worried about what you tasted like.

First, he buried his nose in your little curls again, this time more desperately. He made his way down to your clit where the touch of his nose made you twitch and moan. He looked up at you from under the shadow of his brow and his eyes sparkled. He inhaled deeply through his nose, closed his eyes, then sighed from the bottom of his throat.

He pressed his mouth against your clit, then opened his lips. His tongue extended then lapped upward and dragged down. He did it a few more times and hummed “Mmm.” His brows tensed and his eyes wrinkled as he tasted you. His hands slid to your ass. He sucked and lapped with dedication, and it was unlike any feeling you could have imagined. It made you want to be filled so bad. Almost as soon as you thought it, he plunged his tongue into your tight, wet hole, pushing a moan out of you. He thrust it into you rhythmically, and his fingers dug into your flesh.

He came up for air and said, “Swear you got the sweetest nectar, baby. Can’t get enough.”

You believed him from the look on his face. Then he came to his knees again. He dragged a finger through your slick and held it up to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thick digits and it wasn't bad.

"Good girl."

He took his cock in his hand. It was even stiffer, more commanding than just moments before. It really did turn him on. The veins bulged. The tip throbbed angrier and weeped with precum. You were desperate for it. Salivating.

He murmured, “Believe me now?” as he brought his cock to your warmth. Your breath hitched and your whole core throbbed desperately. He dragged the head through your slick just enough to get himself wet. Your body tried to suck him in, but he wouldn't allow it. He sat back on his knees and stroked himself slowly. He was looking hungrily between your legs, then up at your face. He raised his eyebrows pleadingly for permission. He wanted more.

“I believe you.” you said. Your clit twitched.

His chest rose and fell with your go-ahead to continue. He didn’t hold back at all. He was ravenous, burying his nose and mouth between your legs, his tongue matting your hair as he licked and lapped and sucked.

One expansive hand held your hips down as the other occasionally stroked his cock. And then he held you with both hands, abandoning his own pleasure. You watched him, so handsome, hair falling out of place from where he haphazardly fixed it earlier. It's so sexy when he lets it go, like you’re the only thing in the world at that moment.

“Can you take your pants off?” You asked and he did it in a flash without a word, never taking his head away for more than a second. He kicked them onto the floor. It was so hot seeing him be messy. With both hands back on your body, his hips began to slowly grind into your mattress, a sight that made you even weaker as he devoured your beautiful blossom.

He traced your petals with long licks, gently dragging his lips, then sucked your clit, teasing it gently. He fucked you with his strong, slippery tongue again and you moaned at the feeling of being filled by anything. He sucked and swallowed as much as he could get, moaning, sighing. Your hips briefly lifted, and your body tensed as you felt yourself about to come. Joel felt it too. He groaned into your body, and the vibration of his deep voice made you weak.

He tried to meet your eyes, but you could barely keep them open. He wanted to talk you through it again, but didn't want to take his mouth away. You could tell. He was saying it with his eyes. That's it, baby, you're almost there. Stay with me. Come on, baby.

His hands found yours, interlacing your fingers. You held on tight. Then your hips rolled into his face and he moaned into your clit as you pinched your eyes shut and arched your back, letting pleasure seize you completely. His mouth went slack and rested against your convulsing warmth. He watched, captivated as you squeezed his hands and came.

"Good girl. Gorgeous." He squeezed your still-trembling thigh and got out from between your legs.

As you caught your breath, he came up next to you on the bed with a shiny face and held his aching member in his hand.

“I wanna touch it,” you said. “Can you show me how?”

“Get your hand wet for me,” he said softly between heavy breaths with a nod downward. You gathered your slick and reached your hand hesitantly toward him. “All yours, baby.” His chest rose and fell as he held it for you.

“Go ‘head,” he encouraged, giving you confidence. You wrapped your hand around his cock. It was so smooth and warm. You didn’t know what to do next. You froze.

“It’s okay, darlin’. Let’s do it like this.” His hand engulfed yours and moved it gently as he lifted his hips and fucked himself with your fist at a moderate pace.

“Love your hand, baby,” he managed between grunts. He was sweating with his flannel shirt still on. You marveled at the way the smooth skin of his shaft moved along the stiffness. You memorized the texture of it and the sound of him grunting.

It wasn’t long at all until agony spread across his face, then he groaned. He took his hand away and watched your face as his cock pulsed against your palm and his cum spilled into your fist. He sighed long and low.

"Good, darlin'. Real good." He pressed a kiss into your mouth then looked at his cum all over your hand. "Sit tight for me." He tucked himself away and went to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you sniffed it. You got curious what it tasted like. You dipped the tip of your tongue into it just as he was returning with a warm washcloth and neater hair. His eyes widened when he saw you taste his cum.

He watched your face for a moment, then skeptically asked, "Like it?"

"Yeah," you nodded shyly. "'cause it's yours."

His face melted. "See, darlin'? You love me just fine."

As he gently nudged your legs back open with the washcloth, you asked “could you teach me how to touch myself better?”

He paused. “Better? You touch yourself now?”

“Yeah," you said hesitantly.

"That's natural, darlin'. Nothin' to be ashamed of. Just surprised, that's all."

"But I can't make myself, you know.” He paused what he was doing, and you regretted bringing it up.

“What're ya thinkin’ about?” He furrowed his brow and his face tensed as he slowly finished wiping your inner thighs.

When he was finished, you pulled your pajama pants back on “You know, what I said I wanted earlier.” You sighed and looked at the ceiling. "From you." You couldn't say it again.

His face softened. “That's good, baby. . . S'posed to turn ya on, thinkin' about that."

"But I don't come."

"I’ll make ya come anytime ya want, peaches.” There was a hint of cockiness tugging at one corner of his mouth. He tossed the washcloth to the laundry, then settled in next to you and slid his forearm under your pillow. "Any time." He admired your face affectionately. It still buzzed with heat. He looked you up and down and rested his massive hand low on your stomach.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Don’t thank me.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. "Love doin' it."

“For protecting me.”

“Course I do, peaches. You’re the most precious thing I ever had." He caressed your bare skin.

"Can't leave ya here alone today, baby. Gotta take ya home.”

You nodded.

Thank you so much for your engagement 🖤🖤🖤 I love you guys, and love hearing from you.

I have loved reading everyone's reactions! 💕 To let people read "unspoiled," won't be posting ALL theories, but you're still welcome to send them.

Thank you @dark-scape for conceptual beta / reassurance 😅

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy

Lincoln: @fan-fiction-floozy @ivyblxnde @lhymer1995 @sugarspiceanthrax @isimpforfictionalmen @zynbsblogg @swedishscumfuck @sadgirlstoohightocare @steveharringtonswh0re @skythighs @aoziety @leeeesahhh @jupitersmoon-cal @peekymoon @dtfawn @pedrosbabygirl @shotgun-shelby @reader-without-a-story (ct'd in comments or reblogs)

You can also follow @toxicfics and turn on notifs, but it doesn't include all blurbs, HCs, drabbles, etc.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #joel miller/reader #dbf!joel miller #dark!joel miller #creepy!joel miller #pervy!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#lincoln!joel☠️#lincoln! joel #cw trapped animal #tw gaslighting #tw manipulation #tw dubcon #pedro pascal characters #cw age gap

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black-aurora-nora · 11 months

Text

Sibling Squabbles | Yandere!Superman and Jon x Teen!Reader

“Jon, please get out the way.” You demanded in an even tone.

The younger boy didn’t budge from his spot in front of the door. His gaze held firm and he shook his head, “Dad said you couldn’t leave.”

“Clark doesn’t hold authority over me.” You reminded him matter of factly, “He’s not my father and I’m not your sister.”

Jon frowned deeply at your words, “Dad said you’d have a hard time-“

“Move, Jon!” You demanded again, louder.

You moved up to him, trying to shuffle past him with your backpack filled with a few essentials.

“Where would you even go?! You were homeless before this!”

“And? At least I wasn’t stuck in some house with creepy men!” You rebutted angrily, grabbing for the doorknob.

Jon grabbed your wrist, gripping it tight, “I’m not creepy! And neither is my dad! Take that back!” He knew that his dad told him to be gentle with you since you were still settling down but you were going too far.

“No! I mean it! You’re creepy!” You repeated sharply, trying to wrestle your wrist from Jon’s grip. “Ugh! It’s no wonder your mom left-!”

A sickening crack sounded from your wrist and you saw it crinkle in a way it wasn’t supposed to then a horrible pain that left you screaming from both the shock of what happened and the pain.

Jon stood frozen, breathing uneven.

He looked from your crumpled arm to your snotty face.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you. His father had warned him plenty of times to use his powers for good and here he was hurting you because you said something hurtful.

“I-I’m- (Y/N), I’m so-!” He reached out to you and you jerked back violently with a yelp.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” You snapped, opening the door with your good hand and running out towards the trail that led to the city.

Jon decided it best that he not follow you.

He knew you wouldn’t escape now anyhow. You were far too hurt and in too much shock to get far enough. And no one would allow a young teen like you to walk around with a broken arm if you did make it to the city.

The next time he saw you, which was a day later, his father had brought you back home with a blue cast on your arm.

You looked exhausted, pissed off, and every other negative emotion that people could feel.

Clark had you both in the living room and glanced at the two of you sternly. He looked at you first with an expectant gaze.

“(Y/N), apologize to your brother.” He said, arms crossed.

You kept your gaze on the cast for a moment.

A deep breath in, “Sorry.”

“You can do better than that.” Clark wasn’t one that took apologies lightly. You had to put your full heart into it. “Remember what we talked about at the doctor’s.”

Another deep breath, “Sorry for saying stuff about your mother.” You gritted out, “And about you… I didn’t mean it.” Your voice was incredibly monotone but Clark knew that was the best they were going to get from you right now.

He knew there’d be plenty more altercations in the future to teach you how to apologize properly and honestly.

He turned to Jon, “Be more careful in the future,” He reminded him simply, “And apologize to your sister.”

Jon’s lip wobbled as he gazed at you and you wished great harm upon him. How dare he act like he was the one that had been victimized? Like he was innocent?

How dare Clark make you apologize first when Jon had hurt you? Now you were stuck in a cast and had been set back.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I won’t do that ever again and I forgive you.” He gave you a teary smile, “I know you’re having a hard time and I should’ve kept my anger in check.”

Clark smiled warmly, “Try to keep the sibling squabble to a minimum, okay, you two?” He patted you both on the head.

He then stood up and made his way to the kitchen, “Who wants breakfast?” He asked, tying an apron around his person, “I’m thinking waffles, eggs and bacon!”

Jon licked his lips, “I’ll have some! Can I help?!” He asked excitedly, running after his father.

“Of course you can, Jon.” You heard Clark answer from the kitchen, “(Y/N), come join us.”

God you hated them with every fiber of your being.

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traumasurvivors · 5 months

Text

It is not okay for your parent to say “I guess I’m just the worst mom/dad” when you express that you’re upset or hurt by something they said or did.

This also applies to other relationships, too. You shouldn’t be hearing “I guess I’m the worst friend/partner/etc” when you express being upset or hurt by something they did. Whether it’s intentional or not, it is manipulative.

When you’re upset, you should be allowed to express that safely without them making it about them. It shouldn’t lead you to comforting them and possibly feeling bad for saying anything (and possibly feeling too anxious to say something in the future.)

#my post #tw manipulation

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rinhaler · 5 months

Note

Rin Itoshi and female s/o taking each other first time

omgggggg i tried to make it romantic and sweet but i do love a slutty ass dude who's in control so apologies if this isnt exactly what u wanted hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, virgin!rin, virgin!reader, fingering, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, tit sucking, "just the tip" pfft, slight manipulation, brief condom use, premature ejaculation, creampie.

words: 2.9k

Your heart races as you watch Rin scroll through his phone and find some music to play. He looks so serious, though that’s nothing new. You don’t dare speak, worried you’ll say the wrong thing if you do. He looks up at you, briefly, offering a weak smile before looking through his phone again.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.” he tells you without even looking at you. You watch him as he starts hooking up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in your room, and you shuffle uncomfortably on top of your bed.

“I want to… ‘m just scared.” you confess, breath shaking slightly as you exhale. “Do you still want to?” you wonder, feeling shy as you ask. You’re sure he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to, though.

Rin doesn’t do anything he has no interest in.

“Yeah.” he tells you, setting his phone down before looking back at you, finally. He’s so far away, it feels too formal. Though you assume he wants to set the pace and make sure everything is comfortable for you both before you proceed. “We agreed,”

“I know.” you nod, recalling the moment you decided as teenagers to give each other your virginities if you hadn’t lost them after you turned twenty. “Just checking.”

The concept of Rin being single, let alone a virgin, is something you can’t even begin to comprehend. You’ve been best friends with him since you could talk. You remember him having no interest in you until you forced your way into playing soccer games with him and his brother. You soon gave it up once you got what you wanted, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Girls have always thrown themselves at Rin, but he never cared. Not really. You remember him having one girlfriend and it never went anywhere. It only lasted three weeks. He told you the gory details of their sex lives, though. Only because you asked.

It didn’t go past hand stuff.

“I brought condoms.” he tells you, pulling a box from his bag and setting them down on the desk he’s sitting by.

“I- I’m on the pill.” you respond. “I heard it feels better without… those. But we should use them.”

“Okay, yeah.” he agrees.

“… but we don’t have to.”

“I’ll use one.” he assures you, not wanting to make you feel pressured to go raw for his benefit. Though you’re sure it would be for yours, too. “If you want me to take it off, I can do that.”

You nod, agreeing.

“This is so…” you think, searching around the room for any inspiration of a descriptor to use. He stares at you, intently, wondering what you might say. He’d never tell you, but he’s just as nervous as you are. Of course he has an edge of experience ahead of you, but he’s still clueless. He wants to make sure this is going to be nice for you.

Perfect, if possible.

“What?”

“Formal.” you shrug.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” he responds, scratching his neck as he thinks about what you told him. He looks around, feeling a little too awkward to make eye contact. “I just want to make sure everything’s going to be okay…”

“It’s fine, you’re right.” you smile, “I just thought my first time would be… romantic. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.” you shake your head, dismissing the idea.

You knew you’d end up here with him eventually. You had no intention of losing your virginity to anyone else, after all. You’ve been in love with him for years, and finding out he got a girlfriend almost killed you. It was hard hearing about how they became intimate, but you were so fucking relieved when they broke up.

He only decided to get a girlfriend because he thought you weren’t interested in him, though. You’ve always been a forbidden fruit he wouldn’t dare try to cross a line with. You’re his best friend, after all. He wouldn’t want the romantic feelings he has towards you to ruin that.

“It’s not stupid.” he assures you. “Here, pick some music.” he hands you his phone.

You start to scroll and realise you’re looking on a playlist he created aptly named sex playlist. It makes you giggle, but you don’t comment. And you don’t pay him any mind as he leaves the room while you continue searching for a song.

The boy has good taste, you soon realise.

He comes back a few minutes later with some candles from a nearby cupboard. He knows you too well. You hoard them, you always have. You get an abundance each year for Christmas and rarely use them. He starts lighting them and placing them around the room.

You finally look up as he turns the light on, the room dimly lit by the burning flames scattered around.

“Is this better? I should have gotten some rose petals or something…”

“N-No, this is fine.” you smile, “Thank you, Rinnie, this is nice.”

He clears his throat and sits beside you on your bed. You quickly hand him his phone, prompting him to lean over to place it back down on your desk.

Your heartbeat begins to increase rapidly as he faces you. You haven’t even so much as kissed before, let alone what else will follow. He reaches out to caress your face, and it takes all of your willpower to not flinch.

“R-Rin… do you, um, d-do you watch…”

“Porn? Yeah. Do you?”

His reply makes your face flush with heat and the thought of confessing your own truth makes you even hotter. You look away from him, twiddling your fingers in your lap and looking at those instead.

“I know it won’t be like that… it’s your first time. And mine.” he reminds you.

He’s always been so mature. And you’re glad he’s doing all he can to put you at ease. He puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him again. You gulp, nervously, before nodding. He smirks at that.

“Good, I’m glad,” he tells you, beautiful jade eyes flickering with flames as he stares at you. “Means you know what you like.” he leans into you, an attempt to kiss which you immediately back away from. And you apologise, profusely, assuring him that you’re still a little nervous.

“I— I know guys can, you know, it can be quick… s-so don’t feel bad.”

“Don’t worry about that.” he shakes his head. “If I cum quickly, I’ll make sure you finish.”

He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips planting softly on your own. His eyes close as he loses himself to it, though you keep yours open for a little while as you process what is happening.

You’re making out with your best friend!

Though when his large, dominating hands begin to fondle your chest, you pull away entirely.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he wonders.

“N-No, I didn’t expect you to be so confident.” you whisper, and he kisses you again, smiling into it.

Your eyes close as you allow him to continue locking lips with you. His hand entirely gropes one of your tits and his thumb casually strokes over it. Even through the layers of your crop top and bra, you find yourself mewling softly.

He smooths his hand over the curve of your waist until he reaches the bottom of your crop top. His fingers breach upwards towards your bra, roughly groping at it and the fat of your tits.

“O-Ow.” you speak, softly.

“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Can I take your top off?” he asks between continuous kisses.

“Uh-huh.” you nod, dumbly.

He breaks the kiss to quickly pull your crop top over your head. His lips attach to yours again almost instantly as he starts to fiddle with your bra. He stops kissing you, again, to look over your shoulder so that he can undo the clasp. You gasp when he finally unhooks it, keeping the pink material against your chest to preserve your modesty.

“Can I see?” he asks, his eyes moving between yours and your hands. You hum, nervously, but nod. He helps you pull down your straps as you keep the material held firmly against your chest. Sighing, slightly panic in your voice as you strip the material away. “Fuuuuck…” he mutters to himself, adjusting his hardening cock in his pants as he looks at you.

“You should take something off.” you suggest before he can kiss you again. He immediately pulls his t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair back into place right after.

You continue to moan against his lips when he kisses you again. And they only get louder as he kisses down your neck whilst flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He grunts against your skin, battling on whether he should say something to you or stay silent.

He’d hate to ruin the mood.

“Are you hard yet?” you ask him, your shy demeanour leaving you as you lose yourself to the sensation of his hands caressing your body. “S-Should we do it?”

“Wanna feel?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pulls your hand towards the bulge in his jeans, moaning immediately from the contact. “Look what you’ve done to me.” he laughs, pulling you closer and hooking one of your legs over his own.

He scratches the back of his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of dipping under your skirt as you shiver from the touch. His eyes find yours, kissing you reassuringly.

“Can I feel you?” he wonders, and, of course, you nod. His fingers disappear under your pleated skirt, quickly cupping your panty-clad mound. He barely gasps when he comes into contact with your panties. “You’re so wet…”

“S-Stop…” you reply, shyly, “s’embarrassing…” you tell him.

“You need to be wet for me,” he responds, that big, logical, brain of his immediately putting you in your place. Reminding you that he is the one with a little more experience and you need to listen to him. “You’ll be so tight… even for a finger.”

He forces your body down, flat against the bed and flips up your skirt. The cute triangular shape of your panties makes his cock throb, and he moves them into the crease of your thigh.

“Tell me if it hurts…” he requests, staring into your eyes as deft fingers come into contact with sopping flesh. He runs them through your folds, and you jolt when a finger tip grazes your clit. He moves it towards your hole, slowly teasing around it before pushing in. He stops, quickly, when you yelp. “Sorry, I’ll go slower. Hold onto me.” he instructs, a hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes as he continues to plunge his longer finger deep inside.

“Kiss me,” you whimper, pathetically. He drops his head so that your lips can meet again. He devours the moans and cries you emit as he curls his finger in and out of you. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. It’s still painful but it begins to subside.

“Gonna add another, okay?” he asks, and you nod. You hiss, instantly, hands flying down to pull his away. “Sh, sh sh, I’ll go slow again, okay? Gotta be able to take them or we can’t fuck.”

You fight back tears as the stretch begins to sting. He sinks his head lower, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed slightly, coaxing him to look up at you. And then he remembers all of articles he’s read. All of the research he’s done.

He even thinks about his teammates talking about sex.

“You have to worship the clit.” he recalls one of them saying.

He pulls away from your tit, briefly, to line his thumb up with your clit and apply pressure. He circles it carefully, monitoring your expressions as he does. You yelp, trying to close your legs, but he opens them back up with his free hand.

“Are you gonna cum?” he wonders.

“It’s too much, Rinnie!” you gasp, skin tightening over your knuckles until they turn white as you grip the sheets. “S-Slow down, please! S’too much!” you cry, unable to hold back your tears any longer.

He doesn’t relent, however. Hoping the way your body trembles means you’re about to cream all over his fingers. It was an achievement he never reached with his ex without her assistance. She showed him how and where to touch to make her cum. But you’re not her. You’re perfect.

You gasp, breathlessly, as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Your clit throbs as he teases it just right and you begin to cum hard and fast for him. He kisses between the valley of your breaths, whispering sweet nothings as you reach your peak and plummet back down to earth. He slows down his ministrations as you begin to shudder and twitch from the after shocks, looking up at you adoringly when you start to calm down.

“Good?” he asks.

“Very,” you pant, laughing lightly as you find your sense again. “Rinnie…” you speak, your confident bravado disappearing again as you feel naked and exposed.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me… promise you’re a virgin, too…” you say, looking up at the ceiling. You feel too needy and desperate as you speak. But that was too good for him to not know what’s he’s doing. He’s seriously only done that once on another girl? It’s a little hard to believe.

“I promise. Was it really that good?” he smirks. He kisses both of your nipples softly before sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “I’ve been preparing… reading about stuff. Asking advice. I’ve told you everything I’ve done, I swear.”

He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He pulls of his jeans and underwear in the same movement, revealing his large, blushing cock.

“We don’t have to do this.” he assures you, picking up a condom from your desk and tearing the foil with his teeth. He rolls it down his length, the rubbery sheen covers the pretty pink colour of his dick. “Do you want to stop?”

“Um,” you think about it. He’s asking as if he isn’t already raring to go. You look between his erection and his intimidating stare as you think about what to say.

“What about just the tip?” he asks. And at that, you nod. He reaches under your skirt and pulls down your panties to ogle your drippy cunt one more time. He feels himself throb at the thought of splitting your virgin hole open on his fat cock. He’s always known he was big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt you. He can only hope his fingering was enough prep before you rob each other of your innocence for good.

He lines up his cockhead with your virgin slot as he cages you in beneath his wide frame. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you, your moan semi silenced as he pushes his tip in.

Oh God this isn’t enough.

He knew he’d need more.

Just a little more.

He pushes in a bit further, and you pull your lips away from his to voice your concern.

“H-Hurts,” you tell him. “You’re really big.” you inflate his ego further, earning another inch of his cock.

He can’t help it, you’re spurring him on!

And he can only imagine how much better you’d feel wrapped around him without this stupid fucking rubber on. He stops pushing when you place your palms on his shoulders, forcing him to pull back a little. “Is it the condom, Rin? Is it t-too dry?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes up at him so innocently.

“Yes.” he replies, without hesitation. “I’ll take it off.”

He pulls out of you instantly. He hisses a little as he pulls at the condom too hard and it snaps back. He decides to push it up from the base of his cock, lining up with your cunt again right after.

And it’s like you’re made for him as he pushes in. He smothers any whimper you can make with a searing kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth as he pushes in further and further until there’s nothing left to give.

You’re crying, again, not expecting to feel so much so soon.

“God, you’re beautiful.” he praises you. He moves his hips, slowly. His cockhead unintentionally nudges against your soft spot with every rut. The blinding pleasure prevents you from telling him, once again, that it hurts and it’s too much. “I know I said just the tip, jus’ feel so good, princess.” he whispers delicately against your skin.

And, as expected, he doesn’t last long.

A few pathetic strokes of his cock inside of you have him spilling thick spurts of white cream into your unprotected walls. He collapses on top of you, panting violently as he stuffs you full.

He was so backed up before this. He masturbates, of course, but not as much as the average guy. You’ve had this planned for a few weeks, now, so he decided to abstain so he could really enjoy feeling you for the first time.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Should have jerked off before I came over.”

“It’s okay.” you tell him, fingers mussing through his hair as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve finally lost your virginity, to your best friend of all people.

“I need to fuck you again,” he confesses, your fingers stop as you look down at him.

“W- now?”

“Soon,” he corrects you. “I want to taste you first.”

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi smut #bllk smut #bllk x fem!reader #tw virginity loss #tw manipulation

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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

Text

yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario [part two]

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to the second installment of this scenario, featuring Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 who helped me write this finale.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this series will be taken down.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive back into the cutthroat world of publishing.

Part One

The press conference went as expected.

Everyone wanted to know who accused best-selling author Abigail Crowley of plagiarism, where is the evidence to prove that an unidentified individual is the one who really wrote The Darkness and The Nightingale, and why are the representatives of the publishing company are now just finding out about it less than a month before its release date. Yandere!Literary Agent is good at his job, at least when it comes to standing in front of flashing cameras and phones shoved in his face, asking for a statement. He answered the journalists who patiently raised their hands and disregarded the ones who kept interrupting with asinine questions that had nothing to do with the subject of the press conference whatsoever. Yes, he had been contacted by the true writer. No, he will not give out a name to respect their privacy. Yes, there is evidence and it will be presented to a judge, should Abigail Crowley wishes to take Sailboat Publishing House to court and fight back against the claims. No, the printing date will not be changed. He is currently with the writer on revisions and he will not take any more questions at this time. Please speak to the company’s PR representative, Ms. Isley, for a formal interview. That is it for today.

The world now knows the truth. Social media was going to be a proverbial shitstorm; one side will defend Abigail Crowley and say she is the true author as she is still a great writer, and there will be people who speak trash to her out of spite for whatever reason. Some will even try to track you down online and harass you for days on end. Yandere!Literary Agent just hoped that you meant what you said about not being online anymore because of politics.

In any case, the projected million copies to be sold would have to decrease significantly. You told him over the phone that you didn’t mind, commenting that at least 100,000 should be a tidy enough number and he would still get his commission. He didn't have to worry about the fees since Abigail is going to pay for those, or fight back. That was the ultimatum Yandere!Literary Agent and the board members gave it to her almost a week ago.

It was six-thirty in the evening when he told you about what had happened. He was still in the office finishing up a few things, and he had you on speaker mode while he typed away at his desk. You were typing too, working on the revisions and thanking the universe that you had a digital copy of your manuscript on file too, so the task he had given you made things a little easier. So did taking two weeks off of work. But the way you saw it, the PTO either had to be used now, or it wouldn’t be rolled over because you had too much PTO. Yes, that can definitely happen in your career field because you need the hours to pay for bills and essentially being alive. You were making good progress and hoped that you didn’t need to pull another all-nighter just to finish up these edits on page 159.

You were diligent, Yandere!Literary Agent will give you that much. He reminded you of the deadline. You told him to focus on his work, and he’ll have a pristine manuscript in his inbox. Please stop the daily phone calls and text messages, he was putting the pressure on you. This is why you did not want to become an author.

He contacted you on Friday night about the press conference. The following week, an email titled The Darkness and the Nightingale - final edits popped up as soon he opened his computer on Thursday morning.

It’s done. Contact me only if there are edits that must absolutely be changed. Going to sleep. Night.

[First Name]

The manuscript had been sent to him at three o’clock in the morning. You had really cut it close but it was here. The story was finished. He quickly opened up the document. He looked over the edits, compared it to what was written before….and nodded in affirmation. Yes. Yandere!Literary Agent thought as he looked over the words, your words, with a small smile, leaning back against his leather chair. This is a story that will sell.

Yandere!Literary Agent placed the manuscript on a flash drive, arranged a meeting with the printing companies and sent you three options for the cover art and needed a response as soon as you were able to. All in all, everything had turned out. A week before the release date arrived, The Darkness and The Nightingale were loaded into trucks to be sold in bookstores across the country.

One task done. Now to move onto the next project.

He deleted your contact info. He had no reason to keep it, at least on his phone. Email was enough. Sure enough, another client sent him a pitch for a new trilogy that would act as the prequel to the original ones that were already popular with young adults, and Yandere!Literary Agent dove head first into it. He hadn’t realized that a month had passed since The Darkness and The Nightingale had been published. This is what usually happens when he concentrates solely on one client. A bad habit, yes, but as he has mentioned beforehand, he is good at his job.

No news yet in regards to Abigail Crowley, the plagiarism issue was dying down in favor of a startlet’s drug overdose, and there was a meeting on Monday to discuss sales. Another win-win for Yulian Prescott, the man who had single-handedly saved the company from going under. But on Friday afternoon, Yandere!Literary Agent received an email from the printing companies and PR department, concerning the sales of your book. Flummoxed, and a little worried that the number of copies unsold outweighed what was printed, he opened the email.

He blinked. And then blinked again before removing his glasses, giving them a good cleaning and placing them back onto his face. He re-read the email again, his eyes growing wider and wider. This wasn’t about copies that weren’t sold….it was a request from five hundred different printing companies to print your book. The demand wasn’t isolated to the States. There were demands from all over the world!

Unlocking his phone, he swiped over to TikTok, searched for Booktok and looked at the trending topics. There were reels, memes, and reactions about your book. There were people quoting about your book, reenactments of certain scenes, before and after reactions, etc. Of course there were some who didn’t believe that you wrote it, thinking you stole it from Abigail, but that was beside the point.

Your first book had taken the world by storm, and he hadn’t even considered this possibility because it has only happened a few times with Sailboat Publishing. He should have negotiated a higher number of books with you! But that was then, this is now.

He quickly opened a new message on his email, attaching the email he had gotten, inquiring you to see what he has seen and if you would allow more copies to be published. His schedule is open, so please answer when you get a chance. He received an email from you a few hours later, stating the following:

I work twelve hour shifts on weekdays and only have weekends to get my life together. Why do we need to discuss numbers? I already received the advanced copy. Were you trying to send an attachment? It didn’t go through. Wi-Fi was down until now.

[First Name]

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately responded, asking if you would like to meet up later today if that was possible. You said that you were still out running a few errands, but could meet him at Sally’s Diner or a Starbucks. Both places were located halfway between his office and your home, at least the ones you knew about. If he wasn’t at work today, where else did he want to meet? You don’t want to travel too far, and you’d like to take a nap before it gets too late in the day. He had to fight off the smile that was threatening to stretch across his mouth. Cheeky. He thought. He already had a light lunch, but he wasn’t opposed to getting a mid-afternoon pickup. When he offered to pay for your drink and a pastry of your choice, you responded that you would meet him there in an hour.

It gave plenty of time to gather what he needed to speak to you about the current situation.

He met you outside of the building at the allotted time, enjoying a light breeze before following you inside, holding the door open for you and a mother-daughter duo exiting with Strawberry Acai Refreshers in their hands.

Once the orders were placed under his name, Yandere!Literary Agent led you to the back of the cafe and sat down at one of the small tables. You followed suit, hooking the straps of your backpack on the back of your chair. “Did you read the attachment?” He asked.

You nodded. “I did. But….you’re absolutely sure the numbers are right, the ones you’ve shown me? Because if this is your idea of a joke, I swear to God -”

Yulian held up a hand in the air, stopping you from saying anything else.

"Believe me I thought the same thing when I first opened it, but this is no joke, [First Name]. Publishing companies from around the world have reached out, requesting mass publications in at least fifteen different languages, at the moment. And according to the PR team, more keep coming. Your work has gone global, [First Name], and more people are wanting to read it."

You looked at him in utter disbelief, leaning back against the chair with wide [Eye Color] orbs. Before you could ask him any more questions, the barista called out for Yulian.

Yandere!Literary Agent stood up, collecting the drinks and pastry and returning to his seat. Placing them down on the table, he gave yours, and put his black coffee to the side so that he could boot up his laptop. He pulled up the reprint requests so you could see it for yourself. The proof that you are a successful writer. You stared at the screen for a moment until you glanced back up at him.

“Why is it so successful? I thought the reason we agreed on a small number of copies to be printed was because of the plagiarism scandal. There’s been nothing on the news about it lately, or about Abigail.”

Yulian smiled. “Because you are a brilliant writer. While we did agree on a small account of copies to be printed, there’s high praise on social media. Everyone is clamoring to read it, hence why the demand is greater than anyone could have anticipated, myself included.” He folded his hands together, elbows pressing against the table. “Now, regarding the…situation with Ms. Crowley, the legal team still has the materials you had shown to me; the receipts from Etsy, the Google Docs, they all have timestamps. So even if she wishes to take it to court, no one can deny that she did indeed steal your work because you created this masterpiece while she was working on another series. And before you say anything, your personal information has and will not be released.”

You nodded slowly at his words, your shoulders dropping in relief before reaching for your beverage, taking a languid sip from the cup. Then another, obviously relishing the effect of caffeine giving your body that much needed energy boost. Yandere! Literary Agent knew the feeling all too well.

“Now, how many copies will you allow us to reprint?”

“What are the fees that will come with doing this kind of job?” You fired back. “If there is a global demand like you say there is, then someone will need to translate it. Not to mention there are different cover designs, marketing, all of that fun stuff. Will the royalties, if I am to receive any, be deducted to cover the cost? I do not want to get myself into any more debt that I already have.”

Yandere!Literary Agent pulled out his laptop from his messenger bag, pulling up the spreadsheets that the publishing and financing departments had created earlier in the week. The information included fees for translating, reprinting, and international shipping based on demand. On the very bottom of the last spreadsheet would be your net income.

He had no doubt that this amount of money would allow you to be debt-free and live comfortably…at least until you could write another book. Then he saw the confusion, panic, excitement and anxiety swirling in your irises. The mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Yandere!Literary Agent had seen that stupefied look more than once. It was the expression of someone who had not expected to receive such a big paycheck, at least until he had kindly explained that there were some fees which needed to be paid, which would be deducted from the royalties. With you, it seemed like he did not have to hold your hand and explain how the business of publishing went, word for word.

Which is why he was quite surprised to see you suddenly standing up, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, watching you push in the chair.

“I’m leaving.”

“But you still haven’t decided on a number of copies for us to reprint!”

“I’m sorry, but I am not liking where this conversation is headed. As I mentioned before, I write for fun. This isn’t about the money, and I have no desire whatsoever to be your next cash cow. Can’t you decide on a number and call it a day?”

“Not without your consent! That would be in direct violation of our contract, and you wouldn’t be paid for the reprinted copies!” He exclaimed. Yes, he knew that he was acting a bit…childish, but this is a serious matter! How could you even think of walking away from a one-in-a-million opportunity like this? Or even believe that he would use your writing to embellish the company’s reputation further by being the sole representative of an extremely popular, best-selling writer?

Because in the darkest corner of his mind, a nasty voice would gleefully agree with your accusations. This was nothing personal, it was a business. And he would go where there was talent, and money. Not to mention elevate his status even further as a high-in-demand literary agent for one of the biggest publishing companies in the States.

You raised an eyebrow at him, then leaned forward, putting your hands on the back of the chair.

“Mister Prescott, for a minute, please pretend I am not a client and explain in layman’s terms, why would I be paid for that? As far as I was concerned, once the book is out of my hands, it is your responsibility and how the printing is handled. Or am I wrong?”

A client. That’s right….you weren’t a client. You were just a hobbyist writer who had your work stolen by one of his clients. But you were still a writer, someone who could create worlds while working godawful shifts back-to-back. So he spoke plainly to you.

While you were not officially his client, your work was still part of Sailboat Publishing, therefore it is his responsibility to ensure that the royalties matched the time and effort you had put in creating The Darkness and The Nightingale. Yes, he had to make sure the quality of the book’s printing were high quality and not a hackneyed rush job just to keep up with the demand.

Then he said he would be delighted if he could be your official representative…in the near future.

You shook your head. “No need for that. You returned my story to me. After we decide on numbers, I’d say your business with me is done.”

“You don’t want to be an author on the New York Times’ Bestseller List.” It was more of a statement than a question. So why did his heart drop into the pit of his stomach at the thought of never seeing you again once you walk out of the door?

“I’m pretty sure you have more than enough clients to keep yourself busy for a long time.” You said dryly. “You’d drive yourself crazy if you worked with me.”

“And how do you know that it won’t work out?” He challenged you with a small smile. You just gave him an ‘are-you-shitting-me’ frown before releasing a low sigh.

“I still have six more months left on my contract with the hospital. I can’t just quit or I risk having to pay back everything as compensation for breaching it before the end of the contract. I wouldn’t be able to do anything related to the book, like tours and interviews until…sometime next year? No, more like the beginning of next year, like around February. I am starting to outline the concept of another idea I have for a book, a standalone, but I only write on my days off or when I’m on my lunch break. Are you fine with waiting until I send you a query letter and the first fifty pages until next February? Is that too long for your liking?”

Yandere! Literary Agent was not bothered by this proposition. If anything, it worked out perfectly with his schedule. And there is the prospect of you becoming his official client. However, he did not want to push your boundaries any more than he already has for today. Instead, he said that it was fine with him.

“If you agree to us printing more copies of The Darkness and The Nightingale, then we’ll be all set until next year. Do you want to use the same cover worldwide, or do you want us to come up with some alternative covers for different countries, and send you the designs you like?”

“...Alternative.” You said, pulling back the chair and sitting back down, backpack plopped into the adjacent seat. “Do you have any artists that you recommend, or have portfolios I could look at?”

Decisions were discussed within the next hour, and Yandere!Literary Agent was satisfied with leaving Starbucks with an idea of what his Monday morning is going to look like. But what satisfied him more was the number of copies that he and you agreed on. Fifty-thousand, in each language.

It was enough to make his heart quicken with excitement.

Or is he anticipating the momentous day when you signed a contract with Sailboat Publishing and he became your literary agent? Six months might seem like a long time….but he prided himself on being a patient man.

Knowing he will be the best damned agent for you, because you deserve nothing less, and much more.

Knowing he will be the only one to read your WIPS, help you become a better writer, protect you from the paparazzi and anyone else who would dare to try to covet you like a trophy.

Knowing that in the end, all you will have is him. And he will have you, whether you like it or not.

If Abigail Crowley keeps trying to contact him, pleading that she wasn’t wrong and that she did have a new idea for a book so please read her emails she’s been sending please give her one more chance don’t ruin her life please…he might have to do something about it.

Noisy dogs need to be fed, right?

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#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #yandere #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere! literary agent #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive love #tw manipulation #cw manipulation

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