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#tw toxic behavior
faetreides · 2 days
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Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like
r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes
cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation
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Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.
This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)
You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.
Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.
Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)
He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.
A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.
You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.
Your phone chimes again.
Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️
You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).
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bones-of-a-rabbit · 5 days
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Afton'd Reader AU my beloved,, clingy obsessed possessive boys my beloved,,,, i really should draw this Mentally Unwell Trio more often, its very fun skldfhsdkjfdh
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delirious-donna · 1 month
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The Duality of Men [Part Five]
story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.
chapter summary: Being cooped up all day with Kento isn't as easy as it sounds. Time to tempt the stick in the mud out for a drink. What could go wrong?
pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: suggestive, mentions of previous masturbation, humour, two idiots pining, mentions of alcohol, toxic male behaviour (not Kento), misunderstandings, white knight Kento, also very oblivious Kento
Part Four | Series Masterlist | Part Six
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The morning dawned–bright and fresh. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the events of the previous evening almost felt like some lucid dream rather than reality. Only the dull ache that remained between your thighs served as a reminder of your toying fingers. Whilst you might have found release, it was temporary at best, and the encounter with Kento in the kitchen had only served to rekindle your desire for the man who was quickly becoming less of a stranger to you.
In an attempt to occupy your mind, turning it onto more pressing matters other than the slew of questions about the stoic male—his interests, occupation, and preferences in a far more intimate manner—you decided that focusing on schoolwork would be for the best.
That was how you came to find yourself seated in one of the two tall chairs that lined one side of the kitchen island, your coursework spread out in a sea of paper and textbooks. It was an organised mess, or so you would say, others might disagree, but it worked for you and that was all that mattered. Or it might have been had it not been for the appearance of your host.
Kento shuffled into the kitchen, his hair dishevelled from sleep and yawning widely. A glance at the clock told you it was an early start to the day for someone who was meant to be on vacation. He reached his arms overhead into a delicious looking stretch, and paused when his eyes blinked open to spy you fully dressed with a pen between your teeth.
“Morning,” he offered once he too glanced at the clock with a slight squint. It made you wonder if he needed glasses and if so, why didn’t he wear them? His voice was gruff, laden with sleep, and you did your best not to squirm at the effect it caused in your stomach. “You’re awake early, no?”
“I could say the same to you. Didn’t you say you were on mandated vacation? Oh, and good morning. There is coffee in the pot if you’d like some?” You added, leaning your cheek onto your fist whilst you admired him, emboldened by the knowledge he wasn’t awake enough to notice.
He grunted in response. Deliberately not looking whilst you smacked your pen against your pursed lips, and instead made a beeline to the source of caffeine that had roused him from his slumber in the first place. He admired your dedication at being awake to study so early. The question of what you were studying tickled the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. The more he knew, the harder it would be to keep his distance as he had vowed to himself.
Lazing in bed wasn’t on his agenda, it would be a waste of time when he could be reading or getting in a morning run on the treadmill. Perhaps in another life, he would have savoured the idea of remaining nestled within warm sheets, the morning sun streaming across the rumpled bed from the gap in the curtains, and… He paused, knowing that his mind was conjuring another body beside him, one that was across the room from him.
A distraction was what he needed.
“You study like… this?” Kento asked, nose wrinkled in distaste.
The pen in your hand was no longer gently patting at your lips, it was smacking hard against the marble counter edge and his eyebrow quirked at your clear irritation. He fought the smile that tried to rise, wisely hiding it behind his mug whilst he took another long sip.
“It… makes sense to me.” Your eyes narrowed, shifting your hips forward on the chair to lean over the counter, pen wagging in admonishment.
Kento held up his unoccupied hand in surrender, not wishing to cause you any further annoyance and longing for a slice of solitude that he wasn’t going to find in here. “Let me get out of your hair, I wouldn’t wish to distract you from your studies.”
You scowled after him, annoyed at yourself for finding that you were fixated on the dips at his lower back and the way his muscles shifted and bunched as he moved away and out of sight. It was far worse in the clear morning light; you could no longer fool yourself into believing that the broad expanse of his shoulders and the strength of his torso was simply a trick of the low lighting. It was simply him, and you rested your head on your folded arms while you processed that nugget of information.
The rest of the morning was spent in some semblance of peaceful cohabitation. Kento contented himself with running in his home gym, earbuds in place and you wondered what kind of music he enjoyed on your trip to the bathroom, peeking inside only for a moment before darting away, scared to be caught.
It wasn’t until lunchtime approached that he reemerged into the living room, fully dressed in a cream sweater and navy trousers.
By this point, you were curled up into the far corner of the couch with a book in hand. Whilst peeking over the top, you watched as he manoeuvred around the kitchen to make lunch. You must have read the same passage at least a dozen times and still, the words wouldn’t sink in. It wasn’t until he turned to eat, that he froze–plate in hand.
Of course, your coursework was still splayed out and possibly looking even more disorderly than before if that was at all possible. You waited, counting internally for the snarky comment, but as you reached fifteen… you glanced at him again.
“Are you really standing over the sink to eat?”
“I’m sure you have a suggestion as to what I should do instead,” he sighed in resignation with the plate balanced on his palm and half his sandwich clutched in his other hand.
“You could, y’know, sit on the couch like a normal person,” you chided with a roll of your eyes. “Or are you that afraid of crumbs that you’d rather stand over there?”
If truth be told, he did despise crumbs and unnecessary dirt. However, he wasn’t about to get into it with you about something you’d find trivial and likely tease him over. As if accepting your challenge, he marched stiffly to the other end of the couch from you and rested his plate precariously on his knees to finish his sandwich. His forehead wrinkled into a scowl, and you fought the urge to tell him to ease up or he’d prematurely wrinkle his face. Something told you he wouldn’t take too kindly to such an accusation.
Unfortunately, the calm of the morning didn’t last into the afternoon. For such a spacious apartment it felt awfully cramped when the two of you tried to focus on your individual interests. It was like walking on eggshells and your nerves were on a razor's edge for no good reason. More often than not you found yourself studying the uptight man rather than reviewing your seminar notes.
Nanami prowled from room to room like a caged predator, one that was not accustomed to enforced captivity and was losing its sanity with each continued tick of the kitchen clock. You were certain he had sat on every part of the couch, first seemingly engrossed in the newspaper delivered to his door but it didn’t last. Before you knew it he was back on his feet and standing at the panoramic window with both hands clasped behind his back.
He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, ignoring the beautiful sight of the late afternoon sun turning dark and fiery across the city. It would have been what you studied in his position but no, Kento watched the hundreds of commuters down on the streets. Was he… envious?
It appeared that way and he only strengthened the idea when he huffed, leaving a cloud of breath against the clean glass and turned on his heel to retrieve his discarded newspaper. The crisp pages snapped apart harshly under his grip and you nearly laughed at what you could only describe as rage reading.
You rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time and threw down your pen in defeat. After stretching your arms overhead and rotating your stiff wrists, you gathered your courage and rounded on the man who couldn’t settle into anything remotely relaxing.
“Wanna go grab a drink?”
Kento paused on the sentence he had already read ten times over. Was he hearing you correctly? “Pardon?”
Hopping down from the stool you’d sat at for most of the day, you approached slowly and shrugged. “It’s been a long day and I think we could both use a drink to relax us a bit.”
Why would you need to relax? He was the one wound tighter than a spring-loaded toy but he couldn’t even blame you, not rationally anyway. You’d spent the day studying diligently, only breaking to stretch your limbs, refill your water bottle or read your book. A book he was unfamiliar with, squirrelling away the title and author to look up later.
After his morning run and shower, the day had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. No matter how tightly he tried to cling to them, the minuscule grains escaped through the cracks until the hours were lost and he felt a sick sensation in his stomach. He tried not to consider the accounts he could have handled had he been in the office, or the clients he could have snared if he’d been permitted to admit the conference as planned. It wasn’t worth the turmoil it caused.
“I have a well-stocked liquor cabinet and there is wine in the fridge if it’s a drink you’d like,” he offered, moving closer to you and ignoring the desire to splay his hand at the small of your back to guide you towards his prized collection.
You shuffled your feet looking decidedly more nervous. His head cocked in curiosity, noting your habit to chew on your lips. He bet they tasted sweet.
“Kento… can we get out of the apartment? I bet there are a few nice bars around here, and well… c’mon, I don’t want to go alone.”
He may as well have sighed at the sound of his name on your lips for the second time. You might not know it, but he would have agreed to just about anything at that moment. For that reason alone, he found himself perched on a bar stool in a noisy but thankfully well-lit bar a few streets away from the apartment complex.
Your face was a picture of excitement, and he laughed discreetly whilst you leant on the bar waiting for the bartender to notice and take your order. Kento did his best not to appreciate how your light blue jeans hugged your backside, averting his eyes to admire the décor instead. He scolded his rapidly diminishing restraint, feeling more like a hormonal young man than he did when he was a hormonal young man.
“Vodka cranberry please, light on the ice. What would you like, Kento? It’s my treat.”
Oh hell no. He wasn’t about to let a student pay for his drink, no matter the circumstances. Meeting the eye of the young man behind the counter, he bristled at the amusement that was evident in his expression.
“Laphroaig, neat. Make it a double, please,” he rattled off whilst fishing his card from the wallet in his back pocket. At his side, you were beginning to protest, tugging on his sleeve and damn near bouncing on your stool. The bartender nodded and wisely chose to remain silent as he accepted the card and hurried away to fulfil the order.
“Nanami, I said I was going to pay!”
Kento huffed. “So, I’m Nanami again… where did Kento go?”
Two glasses were set down on folded paper napkins and it was enough to distract you, your fingers slipping free from his sweater. The amused bartender returned Nanami’s card with a receipt and discreetly moved away. Another wise decision.
“You’re a student and I am not. End of discussion,” he said with enough finality in his voice that you nearly acquiesced–nearly.
You couldn’t help but gawk at him in incredulity. Was he so unaccustomed to such gestures that he didn’t realise this was your attempt to say thank you for letting you stay in his apartment? He swallowed a long sip of his whisky that you had already forgotten the name of, but you were sure was extremely expensive. His Adam’s apple bobbed and your mouth ran dry.
“It was meant to be a thank you, dummy,” you groused, pouting as you raised your straw to your lips and sipped the crimson concoction you’d ordered. “Y’know, for letting me stay at your place?”
“Did you know that you say y’know rather a lot?”
Blinking, you met his hazel eyes and nearly whimpered at the warm glow that shone from their depths. It was like standing before a roaring fire, logs popping merrily from the leaping flames and they had a way of making you feel… special. His face softened when he teased you like this, with no scowls wrinkling his face. For a man who was definitely manly–all sharp jaw and angular cheekbones–those mischievous eyes cast a boyish charm over him and you found yourself leaning closer, your elbow resting on the bar until he cleared his throat and looked away.
Thankfully, you were able to navigate the rough seas of casual conversation without incident. Kento spoke about his work with a passion that didn’t seem likely for what sounded like a rather mundane office job. You teased him for his dedication and the long hours he spent behind a desk with limited social interaction. He took it well, or perhaps it was the alcohol that loosened him up.
His cheeks were warming nicely whilst the bar picked up around you. The steady stream of corporate slaves traipsed in and out with colleagues in tow looking to warm their bellies with a drink or two before the final trek home. Kento spoke fondly of his sister and told you enough embarrassing stories from their childhood that the simmering hurt from not even knowing Karin had a brother, melted away.
The atmosphere was a pleasant one and Kento was a pleasure to converse with when he wasn’t acting like he had a stick up his butt. In fact, it was surprisingly fun to goad him into huffing and puffing at whatever nonsense took your fancy, simply to see him stiffen and frown, his chest barrelling in indignation until he realised you were baiting him and easily so.
Kento couldn’t recall a time he enjoyed more than this one right now. He was never one for taking up the invites from colleagues to go bar hopping on a Friday night, often staying late in the office and catching up on emails rather than drinking himself into a stupor. Only now did he wonder if he was missing out on something better than what he thought would be no more than a nasty headache and clouded memories. Perhaps, if the right people—or person—it could be enjoyable.
You were funny, animated and scathing but not in a cruel way, or at least that was his interpretation. He appreciated your wit and your unique take on the world caused more than one or two belly laughs, which were worth it just to see how your face lit up in reaction. You were clever too, always quick off the mark when he deliberately tried to trip you up and honestly… he was falling.
Love was far too soon to even consider but mild infatuation? Maybe.
With your drinks now empty, he asked if you would like another and after giving an enthusiastic nod, he ordered two more before standing to find the restroom. The solitude gave you a moment to collect your thoughts, staring into the depths of the polished bar edge as you wondered how to proceed. You liked him, that couldn’t be denied now but it still felt too soon, not to mention the guilt you felt over lusting after your best friend’s brother.
Your reverie was interrupted when fresh drinks were set in front of you and a presence settled by your side. Glancing sideways you expected to find Kento but it wasn’t him. A young man in his early twenties smirked at you, swiping a hand through his slicked-back black hair. He was suited and booted like the majority of the patrons but you stiffened instinctively with how closely he leaned into you.
“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?” He offered, clearly ignoring the fresh set of drinks under your nose whilst his arm draped over the back of your chair. The tips of his fingers brushed your shoulder, making you shudder and twist your torso away so he could no longer reach.
“No thanks. I have a drink and that seat is taken.” You pointed to the one he was occupying after lifting both drinks in what you hoped was an obvious show of disinterest.
The man laughed; a dirty smoker’s laugh that raised the hairs on your arms and roiled the contents of your stomach. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t lie. Liars aren’t as cute as you. I bet you bought both drinks so no one bothered you, right? I’m too smart to fall for that, all the girls are doing that these days.”
Every warning sign and alarm blared obnoxiously loud inside your head. If your instincts hadn’t tipped you off, his words certainly did. You were not the first woman to be subjected to his unwanted presence and you prayed that no one had fallen victim to his overbearing advances.
Undeterred by your previous movement to escape his touch, the man turned his body into you and this time, instead of trying to put his arm around your shoulder, he landed a heavy palm on your thigh. You openly grimaced at the unsolicited move, brushing his hand away and crossing your legs. Any sensible man would understand this as a sign to quit but of course, he seemed to only take it as some kind of sick challenge.
“Someone’s a little frigid. Let me warm you up a bit, I promise to be gentle,” he sneered, showing teeth stained from years of cigarettes and lacklustre oral hygiene.
You caught the eye of the bartender, he was watching closely and you were grateful that he was attentive.
Your mouth snapped open to retort sarcastically about his lack of perception skills, but at that moment the bartender, who you considered your safety net, moved away to the other end of the bar to serve a new customer.
What you didn’t know was that the man behind the bar knew that you were completely safe, he had seen what you had not. Nanami Kento was striding across the room and he was pissed.
At first, he had waited to see how you reacted to the man and his clear advances, unsure if you were into this kind of thing or not, but the second he could see your grimace and how your entire body leaned away from the man in his seat, fire filled his veins. The very second he touched you without invitation and continued to advance when it was obvious you weren’t interested, he saw red.
He would never understand the self-righteousness of some men, and their seeming belief that all women were fair game if they tried hard enough. It was not foreign to him, and this wasn’t the first time he stepped in to ensure the safety of a woman, often women he didn’t even know. This time was different and he was consumed with both rage and confusion at his reaction.
You weren’t his, he reminded himself as he stopped behind the man still leering at you.
A dark shadow fell over your harasser and your head snapped up at the same moment the man glanced around when someone tapped his shoulder. Nanami’s face was twisted with barely restrained fury, a thick vein popped on his temple and you gasped as the heavy waves of anger crashed outward from his stance. It was potent stuff, enough to tighten your chest when the edges licked at you just for being so close to the source.
Kento appeared broader, taller, and more angular. It must have been a trick of the light, but your heart pounded all the same. You weren’t even watching the man suddenly swallow dryly in the wake of Kento’s fury, no, you couldn’t rip your eyes away from him. The second heartbeat from the previous night was returning with vigour and you crossed your legs to draw your thighs tighter together.
“Leave.”
One single word imbued with enough power and natural dominance the man turned tail and ran for the door without even a backward glance.
“Are you alright?” Kento asked, retaking his seat and throwing back half his drink in one swallow. You watched as he sucked his teeth, his fingers digging into his eyes as if he were suddenly weary of the entire world. Not until he turned to you in question, gaze searching your face with uncertainty did you realise you hadn’t answered.
It was your turn to swallow the runny saliva in your mouth. “Yes… yes, don’t worry. He was a jerk but it could have been worse. I mean, it doesn’t happen often—”
“It shouldn’t happen at all,” he interjected.
“I know, but it’s okay.”
He grimaced but said no more. His anger was still palpable, but once where the flames had licked at you for daring to be too close, they now seemed to cocoon around the pair of you and it was a comfort. A comfort you fought against leaning into, failing when your frame swayed closer and your eyelids sagged.
The thought of how you might act if he were your man rose like oil on water, swirling images of clutching the front of his expensive cream sweater to pull him into a kiss that demonstrated a sliver of your gratitude. The kaleidoscope of colours shifted to the interior of his apartment, kicking hastily out of shoes whilst your tongues tangled and your hands roamed with abandon. Decadent heat caressed your chest, prickling your skin and causing you to squirm in your seat, all to the carefully guarded gaze of Kento.
He didn’t know what to make of your sudden shift in demeanour. You were jittery where you once had been perfectly comfortable, he wondered if perhaps you were experiencing a delayed reaction to what had transpired but what he didn’t expect was for you to reach out and run a finger along his forearm.
It was a bold move and one that you didn’t fully think through before you were in full flow. To hell with being Karin’s brother, you wanted to take the chance of seeing if you were compatible. He was ticking more and more boxes the longer you remained in his company and honestly, you wanted to know if he’d loosen up for you if given the right incentive.
“Do you make a habit of coming to the rescue of damsels in distress?”
His nostrils flared and immediately you knew that these were not the right words to use. “Don’t… I’m not interested in pity.”
All you could do was stare, slack-jawed at the absolute stupidity of this man. Did he honestly think you were the type to come on to any guy that came to your rescue? The anger that leaked from Kento seeped into you, fuelling your own and you puffed your chest in response. The man was dense, that much was clear but it was the slight against your assumed reasoning that bothered you the most.
“Are you for real? You think I would do this to just anyone that came along and helped me out of a bad situation?” You hissed through clenched teeth, letting your anger surround you like armour.
Nanami blinked, once and then again. He loathed to be seen as some heroic white knight figure, especially when he didn’t feel like one. Doing the bare minimum should not be praised, not when it is the very least all decent humans should be doing. It wasn’t the first time a woman had tried to proposition him after he chased some creep off, but it was the first time when he actually knew the woman in question.
Perhaps he misread the situation, yet that couldn’t be true either because that would mean that you were interested in him and most likely from before he had returned from the restroom. His head was pounding and it had nothing to do with the music in the bar or the alcohol that filled his stomach.
“I don’t–”
The legs of your chair scraped across the floor as you pushed up and out, halfway towards the door before he could even react to your hasty exit. It was your turn to be pissed and boy did you let it show. A couple leapt apart as they blocked your exit, and Kento was quick to down the final swallow of his whisky and threw down some cash on the bar before jogging after you.
You heard your name being called and knew that he was right on your heels. The feeling of foolishness made you want to cry and that only intensified how furious you were. How dare he make assumptions like that without warrant. A hand caught beneath your elbow and you whirled around only to be met with those uncertain eyes once more. Exhaling deeply through your nose, you reined in your temper and waited.
“I’m sorry?” Kento said, dropping his hand away from your elbow and rubbing at his neck sheepishly.
“Are you? Sorry, that is, because that sounded like a question to me. If you don’t mean it, don’t say it.” You tapped your foot against the pavement, holding his stare with unwavering determination not to be the first to look away.
“I made an assumption and that was wrong of me. This isn’t… it's not the first time I’ve been spoken to like that and I reacted out of instinct.”
“Yeah, well, I bet they hadn’t…” You clapped a hand across your mouth, startled by what you very nearly admitted and so casually too.
As quickly as your anger arrived, it dissipated just as fast. Instead, you were overcome with the memory of bedsheets twisted around your knees and your fingers busy between your thighs. You throbbed, remembering how you imagined Kento’s handsome face between your thighs, his chin and mouth swollen and sticky from the mess he’d made, and your fingers tangled in his hair to encourage him.
The image of your fantasy Kento blurred with the man standing in front of you looking perplexed. How on earth could you have nearly admitted stuffing yourself with your fingers whilst thinking of him and what it might be like if you invited him into your bed? It was comical, really it was.
“Hadn’t what?” Kento asked in confusion, if not at the sentence you left hanging then the way you seemed to double over as if you were in pain. You waved away his attempts to step closer, and he wasn’t certain if what he heard was a delirious giggle or a noise of anguish. What hadn’t those other women done that you had? There were a hundred possibilities surely, and yet, what popped into his head was the sticky mess he had made last night whilst thinking of you.
No, it couldn’t be that… it would be stupid to even think that you might have both sought relief whilst so close yet so far, only a wall keeping you apart. It was wishful thinking on his part, or so he thought. The way you burst into spontaneous laughter gave him further pause. He was grateful when you straightened and bumped your shoulder into his arm, and walked with him back to the apartment. Your anger forgotten and the atmosphere between you clearer than it had been moments ago.
But what if..?
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amostnobleyandere · 7 months
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A Team Effort (Yandere! Diluc × GN! Reader) (Suggestive !!!)
*not quite nsfw, nothing happens except for a make-out session, but there is a huge implication at the end.
A/N: diluc and reader are both “nobles” bc I am eating these historical manwhas UP man. this is a little cringe but I needed an outlet
warning(s) 🚨: !!! yandere !!!, possessive behavior, non-consensual touching, non-consensual kissing,🚨 !!!! implied non-con at the end !!!!🚨, reader has a bad family but it’s not described in detail, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsessive behavior, betrayal, captivity, slight exhibitionism?? (Diluc is making out w reader and Kaeya’s just chilling there, watching)
*is suggestive but only bc diluc is getting friendly w reader’s neck and lips and leaving a bunch of hickies and the last line is !!VERY!! suggestive (it’s a tad bit steamy and very implicative), Kaeya is there too and he’s also *creepy* (they’re both morally questionable in this), Kaeya is in on Diluc’s yandere behavior, reader is an innocent bystander in all this bs, !!! Reader has a Shit Family (TM) !!!
summary: Feeling that the distance between your worlds was too wide, you never acted on the feelings you had for Diluc Ragnvindr. When Diluc proposes, you reject him. His brother decides to take matters into his own hands by delivering you to Diluc himself. Diluc doesn’t oppose the new arrangement, as long as you’re with him.
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Soft lips trailed eagerly up your neck, across your collar bone, over any skin they could reach that had been previously covered by the light night shirt you wore. You felt an insane amount of heat seep through your skin at the contact. For hours your neck and lips had been receiving his attention; biting, bruising, worshipping to no end.
You tried not to squirm as his hands—his hot, hot hands—held you firmly in place; both of them settled on your hips, his unnatural warmth bleeding through the thin fabric and into your skin. Your back was pressed up against the headboard of the luxurious bed you had been sat upon. The man you were holding onto for dear life buried his head into the crook of your neck, using his tongue and teeth to suck and lick blooming marks into the sensitive skin. The deep scent of firewood, ink, and a strong cologne surrounded you, suffocating your senses and putting you into a delirious haze.
Your shirt had been tugged down and rested just above your chest. The man laying passionate kisses across your upper body had not dared to pull it any further. How gentlemanly he was, being considerate enough to allow you to cover up from his wandering eyes, and yet everything else he was doing was still highly inappropriate. He had pulled it down just enough to allow himself a taste, to run his fingers over the smooth expanse of skin that was once hidden to him by layers of clothing, and perhaps to make you look just the slightest bit debauched as his mouth marked anywhere it could reach.
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You had been brought to the Ragnvindr Manor against your will. It was more like a quiet ambush than a kidnapping and, as you found out when it was was too late, it had been planned by your family without your knowledge.
It started when maids swiftly funneled into your room and started packing up your belongings; then those maids plus additional servants hurried you into an unfamiliar carriage, ushering you in. You found yourself sitting across from Kaeya Alberich, a man you had only exchanged a few polite words with in your entire life. He was grinning from ear to ear.
When you tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. Anxiety rose in your chest as Kaeya watched you struggle with a satisfied smile. That was when you had started to panic. No matter how much you insistently pressed the man for answers, he danced around your questions and was unmoved by the nervous waiver in your voice, saying that a surprise was waiting for you at the end of the carriage ride. He never spoke a sentence that gave you a clue as to where you were going.
You peeked out of the window after seeing the carriage pass through a large gate and were met with the impressive sight of Ragnvindr Manor. Kaeya, who had remained irritatingly calm for the entirety of the ride, languidly got up from his seat across from you and reached for the previously locked handle. You heard a click from the outside. He pushed down. With a sly smile, he turned to you and gestured to the now open door.
You couldn’t help the resentful glare that settled in your features at the borderline mocking gesture. After shooting him a dirty look, you hesitantly stepped out of the carriage. You jumped when you felt Kaeya’s hand settle on your lower back, who seemed amused by your startled reaction. He grinned down at you; that and his arm around your waist was anything but comforting, as the weight felt like it was trapping you, shackling you from running away.
You were ushered through the large, yawning doorway and led into the dim front hall. You stared in awe at the luxurious wood interior that was bathed in a warm glow from the candlelight reflecting, flickering off the high walls and shadowed ceiling. Your mind was momentarily distracted from the anxiety thrumming in your chest, with Kaeya’s hand still resting lightly on your back as he pushed you forward.
He led you through the initial archways and up the stairs, his pace annoyingly (and yet eerily) slow, which you were forced to match. He stopped in front of a door that blended in with the rest of the dark wood that was characteristic of the architecture. There was nothing special about it. It only made you more nervous.
“Well,” Kaeya finally spoke, voice smooth and suave as it always was. “This is it.”
As you processed that you had basically just let a stranger pull you into someone else’s house and isolate you from any form of safety, your frazzled feelings formed a heavy weight in your chest, a raging combination of panic and fear.
“What’s going on?” You asked. “Why am I here?”
His grip curved against the side of your waist and tightened, keen on not letting you bolt.
You were seconds away from running into the maze of hallways and hoping you could find your out when Kaeya gingerly knocked on the door. He shot you a glance, seemingly reading your thoughts as his other hand, the hand tensely holding your waist, idly played with the fabric underneath his fingers. His demeanor was infuriatingly casual as you stressed over every decision that could have possibly led you here. Despite his feckless expression, you felt that he understood the weight of what he was doing. He wasn’t oblivious to your fear or your anxiety, and there was a serious expression in his eyes that looked like determination. Whatever he brought you here for, he was planning to see it through, unmoving and stubborn.
You wondered what could make a man such as Kaeya, who had always seemed so removed from any conflict in society, so motivated. You wondered what role you had in him achieving his goal.
The door opened, revealing a very surprised Diluc, dressed down more than you had every seen him. His usual heavy outer coat had been removed, leaving him in a white undershirt and vest. Long crimson hair was thrown up in a high ponytail. The candlelight from inside the room reflected off of it, making a shining halo form around his head. From what you could tell, he was in the middle of getting ready for bed, with a few stray buttons undone at the top of his shirt. You felt your face heat up at the sight.
“Kaeya? What….”
His gaze first landed on his brother, sending him a confused look, before it landed on you and stayed, a wide eyed stare that told you he was not expecting your visit. You squirmed awkwardly under his stare, too bewildered by the situation to say a proper greeting. You pressed down the urge to cover your now burning face with a hand as you were pinned under both his and Kaeya’s full attention.
“Diluc,” Kaeya spoke, unbothered by the obvious tension in the air. He fully encircled his arm around your side, a happy smile forming on his face. He pulled you towards him. Stumbling gracelessly, you were pulled closer into Kaeya and the doorway where Diluc stood stiffly, still staring at you.
“An early birthday gift.”
….What? You felt a cold dread immediately begin to pool in your stomach, the words freezing and repeating in your head. You had been nervous before, but now your body was going into survival mode as fear took over. What the hell was he talking about?
Your mind ran at the implication. You were a person. Not an item to be passed around. Was this some kind of sick revenge for rejecting someone so much higher than you in status and power? Was your family in on it? Were you suppose to be some kind of offering for Diluc?
You nearly flinched when you heard Diluc make an affronted and angry noise in response, almost something like a growl, as he glared at his brother with burning red eyes.
After that, you found yourself sitting on a plush couch inside of what could only be Diluc’s chambers. Across the room, Diluc and Kaeya spoke in harsh whispers, sparing furtive glances towards you every few seconds. You pointedly tried not to look at the very large four post bed in the middle of the room, feeling much too awkward and uncomfortable in what was obviously the personal room of a man you were not married to. The taboos of society all began to rise to the forefront of your mind, and you realized how inappropriate this all was; if it got out, there would be a terrible scandal, and your family would drag you through the mud for dirtying the reputation of both theirs and the Ragnvindr names.
Your damp hands clamped down on the fabric of your clothes, clenching into tense fists as the only other people in the room left you to stew in your anxiety.
Suddenly, there was a shout.
You nearly jumped five feet into the air. You had to tense every muscle in your body to keep yourself from rising off the small couch, though you could not stop your head whipping around to the source of the noise. You heart rate, after finally calming down, sped up again as the dread in your stomach churned. You had a bad feeling that this odd situation was coming to its climax.
The sound had came from Diluc. In Kaeya’s hand was an outstretched piece of paper, too far away for you to make out whatever was written on it. Diluc swiftly took the sheet from Kaeya, scanning over it with wide eyes.
“We’re….?” Diluc breathed, suddenly looking at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, his lips parted in surprise.
“Officially.” Kaeya said, a laugh in his merry voice, clearly amused by Diluc’s reverent expression. The calvary captain titled his head towards you, his eyes barely glancing your way, signaling to Diluc to go over to you. Your chest tightened.
Diluc looked at Kaeya, then turned fully to face you, taking slow steps as if approaching a startled animal. He walked over to you, expression nervous, seeming almost shy as he came to stand in front of the couch you sat on. He looked down at you from above, not speaking. Opening his mouth, then closing it, he balled his fist onto his knees as lowered himself down to sit beside you.
He was close. Too close. To close to be normal, for two people who were in such an odd situation. You were paralyzed by dread and didn’t try to move away from the startling, sudden heat that came with Diluc sitting next to you.
He looked away from you, his head facing the ground in front of you, then turned his body to angle himself towards you. For a moment, he stared ahead, right past the edge of the sofa. He opened his mouth to speak and a breathy, light voice came out, so different from his usual deep timber.
“Your family….,” He started. Your heart stopped. “has agreed for us to be wed without a ceremony. My brother,” he shot Kaeya an accusing look, turning away for a second before returning his gaze to the ground at your feet, “has taken it upon himself to take care of the all the details and bring you here. I’m sure you weren’t aware of this, and this all must be very confusing, but we are now legally…..” He stopped on the last word, finally looking up into your eyes, his own burning with a passion so bright it scared you.
You could do nothing but stare in horror as he opened his mouth and tied you to him forever.
“Married.” Ah. There it was. His usual voice, deep and pleasant. He grabbed your clenched hand, gently but insistently pressing it open and laying his much larger palm flat atop your own before intertwining his fingers with yours. Your joined hands rested atop your knee, which is where Diluc’s gaze stayed, entranced by the point of contact between his skin and yours.
In any other situation, the action would’ve been incredibly romantic and sweet; a tender moment that would’ve set your weak heart aflame and stirred butterflies in your stomach. Your crush, holding your hand, looking at you with all the adoration in the world? It sounded like a dream. Yet, this was possibly the worst situation you had ever found yourself in; dragged to the house of someone you barely knew and finding them infatuated with you. Knowing that you’d been given to them like a wrapped gift.
He had confirmed all your fears. You knew that your family had gone behind your back and lied to you, betrayed you, despite how much you had insisted that you not be engaged to Diluc. It would be too painful when he eventually, inevitably broke it off to marry someone else. Your romantic feelings for him were only the beginnings of a fervent admiration. Still, you knew it would come to nothing, and that your feelings could not change the nature of the world. The two of you lived in different worlds, different circles, and he had better marriage prospects from people that could give him more than you ever could: power, wealth, and all the things that you would always have to look at but never be able to touch.
The emotions you were seeing in his eyes when he stared into yours could never be described as a shallow admiration. No, now you wish you had discouraged being engaged to him for a different reason; his feelings went far beyond the bounds of admiration. They burned in his eyes; they burned you with their intensity.
You had seen a side of Diluc today that scared you. You knew your simple crush couldn’t hold a candle to his raging inferno, something wild and uncontrollable. It would consume you. You now knew that he would consume you, if you allowed him to.
It must’ve shown on your face. The confusion, the bewilderment, one of the many emotions you were feeling must’ve seeped into your expression.
Diluc began to attempt to comfort you. His hand slipped onto your face, shocking you out of your raging thoughts and back to the present as his eyes scanned over you. He looked like he was savoring touching you, perhaps happy to finally have you in his arms, under his hands, after so much longing. (How much longing? How long did his feelings go unnoticed by you?)
“You need not worry, dearest. I’ll take care of you and treat you well. I’ll be a proper husband to you and more, I swear it. You have my word.” A man once nervous and flustered was now scarily serious as he spoke, maintaining eye contact as his binding words promised you a lifetime by his side.
Diluc leaned into you, his hand still pressed to your face as he glanced down at your lips, his own parting. You saw his tongue dart out to wet them, too distracted by the movement to see that his gaze now rested on only your lips.
“I will try each and every day to make you love me as much as I love you.” He spoke softly.
You gasped as Diluc pressed his lips against yours much more harshly than you were expecting him to, and he chased after you as you leaned back into the couch.
—————————
As shocking as it was to find out, you couldn’t do much to ignore Diluc’s now obvious feelings for you. With his words, he ruthlessly broke down every mental barrier you had put up to convince yourself this was all just a bad dream. He loved you, he told you. He was going to protect you, he vowed. He was going to give you everything your heart could ever desire.
The words were meant to bring you comfort, and you had never felt more terrified in your life.
You could feel his hands wandering over your body, curiously mapping out every dip and crevice like they had been waiting for the chance to touch you. Diluc curved his body over yours, hovering above you, not quite on top, not quite upright, just crowding into your space as if he could only breathe the air near you. You winced as you felt his teeth latch onto your lower lip and pull, a soft groan escaping from his chest as he took in the sight of you; you could only imagine what you looked like right now, and the thought that Diluc was looking at you, admiring you like this, made your face burn and your body tremble. Unwillingly, a fire lit in your stomach.
And then, a raspy and low laugh brought you out of your thoughts.
"Looks like their mind is wandering, 'Luc."
Your eyes immediately flew to the owner of the voice, who was standing against the doorway with his arms crossed, an amused smirk painted on his lips. He was watching Diluc fervently push his lips to your neck, face, lips, with the same affection and bemusement one would have after getting pushed into the snow by a sibling. His look of ease, and slight surprise, betrayed no discomfort toward the sight in front of him.
You distantly thought that these two brothers had a lot more love for each other than what they let on.
After all, Kaeya was the one who had paved the path to you being in Diluc’s ever tightening embrace. Kaeya was the one who brought you here and practically threw you into Diluc's arms. From what you could guess, and from what you knew about Kaeya, he had most likely learned of Diluc’s puppy love and had seen no problem with pulling a few strings to help his brother along with his “courting.”
Never mind the fact that you had already said no; you had rejected Diluc months before. The proposal had came as a big surprise, especially when Diluc requested a private audience and asked for your hand in person. And still, you rejected him. At the time, you thought that if he wasn’t already engaged to someone other than you, someone who met his status, he would be soon, and you weren’t going to risk being the fiancé of a man who belonged to someone else; you were protecting yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that would come with letting Diluc court you. And what were you meant to do when he was forced, or worse, willingly began to court someone else? Pine after him from the sidelines, hopelessly adoring and praying he’ll come back? The thought was comical. Laughable.
Kaeya, however, clearly didn’t seem to think so.
If you knew that Kaeya had been plotting to serve you to Diluc on a silver platter, he would’ve dragged you here kicking and screaming. And if you could get past what a conniving and manipulative bastard he was, you would think it was sweet and endearing that he would do so much for his estranged brother, if only to make him happy. Even if it was at your expense.
And to make matters worse, it had been incredibly easy for him to trap you under his palm; you had pieced together how he managed to pull it off fairly quickly.
When Kaeya had visited your family’s estate under the guise of delivering a marriage proposal on behalf of the Ragnvindr household, your family had signed you over without a second thought. Even if they had taken the time to think about the fact that Diluc and Kaeya were rumored to never talk or even exchange pleasantries with one another, that they constantly acted like they were strangers, that it was incredibly odd that Kaeya, of all the people Diluc could have asked, would be delivering the news, it was still too much to ask for them to bat an eye at the proposal.
You weren’t naive; your family wasn’t keen to hang on to you. The only reason you hadn’t been married off already was because of how strongly you had batted your eyes and schemed your way out of wedlock. But now? They wouldn’t dare reject Diluc’s proposal after they found out about it, even if they had noticed every glaring red flag that came along with it. Any suspicion they may have felt was swiftly overcome by Kaeya’s relentless charm and the naturally powerful influence of the Ragnvindr name.
You were doomed the moment Diluc proposed.
You were doomed the moment Kaeya found out you had rejected his brother.
You had practically been held captive inside the manor since you had arrived a few hours ago, and Diluc didn’t seem keen on letting you out of his sight.
Kaeya, who had walked close enough to relax against the post at the end of the bed, leaned towards you and smiled.
"Oh, don’t give me that look. I wasn’t originally planning on taking you here,” he smiled at you like he was sharing a joke, the corner of his eye crinkling with mirth. “I only found out just recently about Diluc’s little infatuation with you. And here I always thought my dear brother would end up with someone like Jean. You were quite the surprise, you know?”
You resisted the urge to throw the nearest object at his handsome face after that comment.
That was who Diluc was meant to be engaged to right now, if the rumors of their long awaited marriage finally being planned held any truth to them. It would be a good marriage; a classic case of childhood friends to lovers, and their personalities fit well together, their friendship naturally wholesome. And most importantly, Jean held one of the most influential positions anyone could have; she was above many and bowed to few. Her status matched Diluc’s; her mere existence made the chance of your betrothal to the young Ragnvindr heir practically nonexistent. It was a key contributing factor in you giving up on confessing your feelings for Diluc.
You had assumed that he had Jean and could never reciprocate what you felt for him. How wrong you were.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up into your throat, one that you pressed back into your chest before it could escape. Kaeya wasn't that far off the mark; Diluc was practically destined to be with Jean. If you were a little bit more romantic, you would even call them star-crossed lovers.
So why were you here now, helplessly holding on to the back of the man’s waist coat while he suckled and bruised your neck to no end?
You gasped as Diluc seemed to get a little bolder at the sound of his brother’s voice, feeling his teeth nip harshly against your skin as he finally pulled away. You could see that his lips were kiss-swollen from his efforts, full and pink, something that unfairly added to his already devastating good looks, which were only enhanced by the glow of the candlelight. He angled his face away from you to look at his brother, something akin to jealously swirling in his eyes.
“Kaeya,” he warned, a growl in his voice. Kaeya chuckled and shook his head before holding his hands up in surrender.
“Alright, alright. I’ll leave the two lovebirds alone.”
He shot you one last wink before he sauntered towards the door, opening it before pausing with his hand on the handle. You watched him lean back to make eye contact with the red haired man on top of you, a smirk spreading across his lips:
“Oh, and Diluc?” He cooed.
“Be gentle.”
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mhathotfic · 2 months
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“You shouldn’t be texting me so late princess, don’t want your little boyfriend to get ideas right?”
Bakugou’s answer to the oddly late message he got from ‘you’. He knows that your boyfriend probably swiped your phone to try and confirm his unfounded suspicions.
If it’s actually you, you’ll tell him to cut the crap and grow up. If it’s your little loser boyfriend, you’ll call him in another 20 minutes to call him insane and yell at him for chasing off another boyfriend.
You’ll get over it either way. He’d rather you get under him instead, but you “don’t want to mess up our friendship!”
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riizeblr · 2 months
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[ ¡! w o n b i n ¡! ]
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this blog consists primarily of dark and triggering content.
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feat. wonbin !
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[ ¡! fics ¡! ]
delivered
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[ ¡! drabbles ¡! ]
brother's friend!wonbin
bunny hybrid!wonbin
loser!wonbin x bully!reader
nerd!wonbin x mean!reader
student!wonbin x professor!reader
younger stepbrother!wonbin x older sister!reader
wonbin + hardcore metal songs
chaebol!wonbin + his necklace
wonbin + hazy memory
stalker!wonbin
best friends brother!wonbin
best friend!wonbin (featuring... eunseok + sungchan !)
wonbin + manipulation hc
wonbin + cnc
rich!wonbin
ceo!wonbin x assistant!reader
plug!wonbin + shotgunning
dark!wonbin x makeup artist!reader
peeping tom!wonbin
chaebol!wonbin x ex!reader
fwb!wonbin + stealthing
perv!wonbin
virgin!wonbin
dark!wonbin + covering your mouth
wonbin + babysitter!reader
wonbin + head pushing hc
stepbrother!wonbin (featuring… stepbrother!sungchan !)
best friend!wonbin + getting too attached
wonbin + piss kink
wonbin + alleyways
wonbin + forced marriage
nerd!reader + spending too much time with wonbin (featuring… bully!sungchan + bully!seunghan !)
wonbin putting bully!reader in her place
loser!wonbin + aphrodisiacs
hot tub threesome with wonbin (featuring… seunghan !)
small cock!wonbin + bully!reader
addict!wonbin ideas
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main masterlist
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321 notes · View notes
grxndprix · 4 months
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yan!gojo sneakpeek
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--take this sneakpeek of an upcoming oneshot lmao more notes at the end
tw; implied noncon, chasing !!
--
“What happened? You were so confident a few seconds ago, sweetheart, don’t pussy out now.” Satoru spoke nonchalantly, an air of ease to each movement. He took the lapse in response to lean closer and cage the girl in with his broad arms. She could only respond with more silence, an infinitesimal hesitation stretching further and further into oblivion — The lone and level sands stretch far away.
King of Kings — That is Satoru Gojo’s title. He was the god of this world, the next, the next, the next—  Gaze upon his works, ye mighty, look upon this rabbit caught fresh on the arrow, and despair.
The apartment suffocated all life out of it, holstering lain two corpses — One stuck in metamorphisis while the other decayed — Both rotting. Blue walls, once a sunny sky’s color now the endless void of an ocean, gray ceiling matted with the flickering, broken light. She’d known damn well Satoru had a better house, some wealthy mansion-like place, but he never offered for her to stay there, he always just showed up here at hers — And she realized he was waiting for her to beg. For her to rely on him.
But, she didn’t, never. Instead, she worked her own job. She paid her own bills, she paid her rent, she bought all the necessities. She lived for herself. If her own boyfriend took notice of her hardships and decided to stay a sadist? To wait for her to end up begging for his help, to land on his doorstep like mutton on a silver platter? 
Hell fucking no.
She assumed the deity just got tired of her stubbornness, because what was once just annoying, his ignorance had become like white noise to her — But recently, she knew he’d been sabotaging her. Coming over more, using up more of her utilities, breaking things she’d try to excuse with a strained smile, ignoring his smug one — He was getting impatient.
The other, well, larger issue that bothered [name] was the fact that he put nothing into the relationship. She was the one with intimacy issues, but she had to initiate every bit of touch, or else he’d ignore her completely. She was the one with a busy schedule, juggling a terribly-paying job, but she paid at every restaurant because Satoru conveniently forgot his wallet when she knows it’s in his pocket.
So, [name] had tried to end it. Gathering up every bit of confidence she had, fighting against the memories of sunset walks and shy handholding — They’d never even kissed — And texted him that they were over. Why give someone who didn’t put anything into the relationship any kind of real closure?
One could assume where that led to.
Here he was, snow-white hair and all, glare piercing straight through her skull, as if it could see everything — And honestly, it probably could.
The silence remained of course, but [name] brought a loose fist to her face, slow and steady. A notion that could be passed off as her brushing away a tear or maybe even rubbing her eyes—
Until her other fist came up as well in a right hook, aimed directly at Satoru’s face. It was stopped by some invisible force that she had no care nor time to question, because the man had been caught off guard. In that split second, the king of kings’ knees threatened to bend.
[name] knew that some demented thought that she wouldn’t hurt him had passed through his mind, which sent a partial shiver down her back, but it only fueled her legs to move. She ran past him, then past the guest bedroom, and straight into her own. He covered the only actual escape, so she needed to barricade and call the police—
A hand stopped the door before she could close it.
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☆ OKAYY time for a debrief !! i !! am !! so !! sorry!! for disappearing oh my god jsdhkj i literally ran into the WORST writing block ever, and then studying hit, and then my hiphop recitals fucked with everythingg ughh --- anyway, back to the point !! i am going to try to get back to posting as frequently as i can, especially now that winter breaks here. side note; i also have covid and a supposed csf leak (brain fluid leak) !! doc says ill be fine dwdw lmao no wonder im gonna fail my classes
☆ anyways hope this sneak peek builds up anticipation for the full thing which will be, ofc, full on smut/noncon for my readerss -- byeeeee see u when i post it !!!
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remember-to-be-gentle · 4 months
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Inspired by this tumblr post by @hawnks 
Subject: JJK, Satoru Gojo
Title: Hate Me Tomorrow (Omega!Gojo x GN Alpha!Reader)
Trigger Warning: Dub con, omega verse, scenting, size difference, biting/marking, obsessive/toxic behavior, self-hatred, knotting, knot riding, begging, heat/mating cycles, grinding 
The sweet, musky scent of Gojo's cologne and sweat enveloped you. Even the giant stuffed beta fish you were snuggling had no scent but his. His pillow fort was surprisingly spacious, granted, Gojo was nearly twice your size so there was a lot of him to fit. But being in here with him was nearly suffocating, and not just because of the light whiffs of omega scent rolling off of him or because he'd practically ripped off your jacket to snuggle into. 
He'd called you suddenly, saying that he needed to spend time with someone. It made sense. Geto just died and there were only so many people who were willing to pick up the phone for Gojo, and even fewer he'd actually call. Especially when it was a secret he was an omega, pretending to be an alpha and you were an alpha pretending to be a beta. 
The two of you were decent friends, hanging out after teaching at Jujutsu Tech for a drink or a quick round of gossip. He was one of the few people who knew you were an alpha and he an omega, an unusual kinship formed but it was never anything more. More importantly, you knew about his relationship with Geto. You couldn't say no. 
Which was why your thigh was snug against his, smartphone balanced on your knee, his favorite plushie shoved into your arms. His head on your shoulder breathes fast but not uneven. It seemed like he was trying not to cry. Poor guy. The winter fashion review didn't seem to be helping him calm down at all. Nor any work gossip. You wanted to stay and help, but it was getting late. If he really wanted to, he could just pin you down, sometimes that thought scared you.
Gojo curled onto his side, struggling closer to you, your jacket wrapped in his hands like a security blanket. 
It felt wrong to leave, but you needed to take care of yourself, too. "Hey, bud, I need to get going. Are you going to be alright by yourself?" 
Gojo buried his face in your neck, silent. He leaned his weight into you, just enough to make it clear he didn't want to be alone. 
Fuck. "I'm sorry. I'll come first thing tomorrow. We'll call out from work and go to the city or--" 
His teeth scraped your neck. Possessive, dominant. Alpha behavior. Before you knew what was happening, he was ripping off your scent suppressor, inhaling like he hadn't been breathing for hours. Alpha pheromones leaked from your skin, invading your nose. "Gojo?" 
Your stomach turned as your instincts awakened, the need to comfort an omega struggling with your own needs for autonomy. Your fingers dug into the beta fish plushie, filled with his scent. 
He reached for his own scent blocker and you suddenly realized what was going on. With his neck practically right under your nose, his omega scent was free. And not just that, he was going into heat. The pillow fort was a nest and this was a trap. Gojo was primed to breed and he was going to use you to fuck away his pain. "This isn't healthy, Gojo, listen to me!" 
But his patch was already off and the omega scent of him in your lungs, filling you, lighting every nerve on fire. Your cock swelled under your clothes, reacting to his breedable scent with vigor. 
Gently, Gojo took the plush and pushed you onto your back, yanking off his pants as his pale face filled with color. His bandages were already slipping, the iridescent shine of his six eyes laser-focused on the swelling at your crotch. He crawled on top of you, already tugging off his shirt. "Just for today, please." He panted, his thin but muscular chest heaving as if just sitting here breathing was a near-impossible task. 
His weight lowered onto your cock and you gasped, feeling his wetness through your clothes. His heat was so pleasant, feverish but warm, empty, and yearning. Blood pulsed lower and you gulped. 
Slowly, Gojo rocked back and forth, moaning loudly each time your shaft met his clit. His back arched, nipples swollen and pink, and standing at attention. "Please," he begged. "Just me just for tonight. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please, ah, Y/N. Please, I wanna cum. Let me have it inside me." 
It was getting harder and harder to think straight. He felt so good, the need to fill him up, let him fuck himself stupid on your cock growing. It would be better if you let him, a voice whispered. Another said, it's what you were made for. Just let him. 
"Gojo," you gasped. You reached for him, tried to make him stop so you could think, but his fingers intertwined with yours and he was moving faster now, his breathy moans coming faster. His skin was so soft and warm, filling you with his heat until you thought you might burst. Blood pulsed in your cock, his pussy was sucking at you through your clothing. He wanted you so badly. You wanted... What did you want to do again? You had to leave but why? 
"Y/N, I'm cumming." His hips rocked faster, tummy rolling with downy white hair covered in sparkling slick. "I'm cumming on your alpha cock." He let go of your hands to lay across your stomach, his head buried in your neck to take in your scent, his own making your head spin as pleasure threatened to burst out of your cock. His teeth met your skin, nibbling and biting gently then hard enough to bruise until he let out a long, throaty groan as he came. 
Instantly, your clothes were soaked, his hot slick smothered on your member. If you weren't fully erect before, you were now. 
Still panting, Gojo lifted himself up just enough to tug your cock free from your clothing. He didn't wait, spreading his pussy with his fingers as he sank down on your tip. Slick gushed down your shaft as he cried out, swallowing your swollen head into his heat. You bit back a groan, fingers digging into the blankets making up the fort. 
"You feel so big," Gojo moaned. "So good. I've only done this with Geto, so I'm going to have to start slow." He sank a little further, impossibly tight and hot and wet. "Feels so good," he huffed, rolling his hips and finally, sinking all the way down your shaft.
Your knot throbbed, seeming to sense that an omega was speared on your length. 
Gojo humped himself on your cock, needy moans slipping from his mouth each time his hips met yours. "Feels so good, Y/N. I've only felt Geto like this before." 
Before you could respond he pulled back to his full height, six eyes glowing in the warm darkness of the pillow fort. He spread his lower lips as he lifted himself up, clear slick drooling from his hole. His pretty, pink, clit a shining pearl at the apex of his thighs. "You did this to me. Look how wet you made me." Slowly, Gojo slid back down, pushing the head of your cock against his cervix. Again, he kept himself exposed and rose up, only to slurp your length right back down to the knot, aiming this time higher, into something spongy and mouth-wateringly soft.
"G-Gojo, I know you miss him but you can't--" 
He raised himself up and dropped down, knocking a groan from you both. "I think about him a lot," Gojo panted. "About how empty he left me. In my soul. In my body. So please, let me fix one of those. Just for now. It's okay if you hate me, but I need you now more than I've needed anyone." 
Gojo whined, flushed and excited. "Right there." He slammed back down on you with a stomach-churning squelch right into that soft sweet spot. "So good." He was riding you now, using you like a dildo to get himself off, his delicate fingers rolling his clit in circles. You couldn't take your eyes off him. "I want you to cum inside me, okay? Fill me up with your seed. Help me feel less empty." 
Pleasure gathered deep inside you, begging to come out as your knot swelled. Shit. You shouldn't. He was your coworker, your friend. But omegas needed alpha seed, he needed reprieve from his heat and you were the only one he could call--because the person he really wanted was dead. 
That thought shattered your high, grounding you back in the moment. "Gojo, I know you're still mourning Geto, but this isn't healthy for you." 
Gojo settled on your stomach, chest heaving. His hands snuck under your shirt, impossibly soft and warm in your skin. Your cock twitched inside him, wanting him to squeeze and milk you dry but that wasn't what a good friend would let him do. 
"I killed him, you know." His hands curled into fists by your hips. "He left me after taking my virginity and when he came back, I killed him on Christmas Eve because he didn't give me another choice. I'm awful, aren't I? Shoko hates me. She won't say it but I know she does. I hate me, too." The blue of his eyes shone as tears gathered, threatening to fall down his red flushed cheeks. 
"Shoko doesn't hate you." You said soothingly. You sat up, so much smaller than him, and ran your hands through his hair. "It was an impossible situation, we all think you did the right thing. We--" 
He didn't let you finish your thought. Gojo grabbed you by your shirt and slammed his mouth onto yours, his tongue filling you as if he could make you swallow every hateful thing he'd ever thought about himself. "If you don't hate me," he breathed against your lips, his spit wet and warm as it dribbled down your chin, "then cum inside me." He rolled his hips, reigniting the electric pleasure in your core. "Please. You can hate me tomorrow, but right now, I can't let you go." 
The pulsing softness of his pussy contracted, squeezing you so tightly you thought you might burst. You gasped for breath when Gojo released you and then did it again. You wanted to move. You wanted to stop. You wanted... 
Gojo pulled down the front of your shirt, rolling his hips roughly, chasing his end against your cock. He bit your chest, hard enough to bruise, marking you like an alpha. And that was enough to come undone. 
You exploded inside of him, eyes rolling back as your core emptied against his sweet spot. Your hips rolled up into his and you shivered as you felt your knot pop into his pussy, slick sliding down your thighs and onto the blankets. 
You struggled to breathe as Gojo laid himself on top of you, breathing fast. He rocked his hips against your knot, already trying to drag another orgasm out of himself. His arms slid under your back, pulling your chest to his. "You're all I have now, Y/N," he whispered, "so please, don't leave.”
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liebemich · 8 months
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Let's ruin each other ♡ (romantically)
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rukunas · 7 months
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college!au drabble which is totally not a self-imagine. tw scummy/toxic eren
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The library shouldn’t be this busy on a Saturday— you’d know. You’re always here around this time every week, trapped in the enclave of shelves and whiteboards and books, a huge stack of them propped next to your laptop. Indigo ink stains more than just your notebook, your palm a mosaic of blue hues. The scent is comforting, though, a stagnant presence as you flick through your anatomy textbook. Your brows narrow at the haphazardly-scribbled diagram of the hormone pathways— where the fuck is testosterone produced?
“Bro, she was all fuckin’ over you last night. Basically had you pinned up against the wall.” Laughs bark down the table you’re seated at. Despite the thick headphones you have on, you hear the voices loud and clear.
Testosterone is produced there. The collective fumes of luxury cologne scream Daddy’s Money™ and disrupt your bubble of productivity. Your forehead pinches again, this time in annoyance, knowing just what group of boys decided to have their own ‘study sesh’ on a Saturday afternoon, definitely hungover and waiting it out before heading to the game.
“D’ya think she still would have been all over me if she knew I had her best friend bent over the night before?” Another roar of laughter, this time accompanied with table banging and echoes of “No way, dude!”
It’s so incredibly clichéd, you can’t help but roll your eyes. There is no way men actually speak like that, as if these head-empty imbeciles could get a chance with a girl if they tried.
“No way, dude!” You huff lowly under your breath, amused by your precision at the tone. It was honestly pretty good, you have to pat yourself on the back for that one—
“What was that?”
A glance upwards forces you to meet a pair of forest green eyes, sharp and narrowed. The smirk settling right below makes you unsettled. Annoyed.
You play it cool anyway, tugging off your headphones and shrugging. “Didn’t say anything.”
“Didn’t seem like it.” He raises a brow. His friends snicker behind him, staring you down, waiting to see how the leader of the pack was going to tear you down, limb by limb.
You aren’t the biggest fan of Eren Yeager.
He’s actually, surprisingly, a fan favorite on campus. Somehow he’s always busy handshaking a guy or has a group of girls squealing and running up to him, bragging about how they’re his best friend— ugh. And he gets the grades to make the Dean’s List, becoming all chummy with the professors and even landing some hotshot internship. But you’re the only one who sees through his shit, catches him at times like this where he isn’t God’s gift to Earth and instead is a typical college frat boy— no, scratch that, definitely worse.
You take the high road and shrug once more, pulling your headphones back over your head. Silently, you pack your things, trying your best to ignore the heavy gaze on your silhouette of at least a pair of eyes watching you leave.
“You have got to fuck her.” Jean sighs. “Or I might. Isn’t she why we’re here anyway?”
Eren isn’t sure if his skin is heating up because of the call out or because of his possessiveness over you, despite the fact that he’s nothing to you. The way you look at him proves it, like he’s a wad of bubblegum sticking to the bottom of your shoe, like he’s the one that’s a nobody.
He knows your friends. Hangs out with them, fucks them occasionally. But not because he likes them— he just likes to keep tabs on you. Why? He doesn’t fucking know why. God, he wish he knew why. He does stupid shit like this, coming to the library on a fucking Saturday like a goddamn dork just because he knows you like how quiet it gets on the weekends. He is so infatuated with someone who won’t even look his way, someone who keeps a nose buried in school work and doesn’t even bat a lash at his looks, his jokes, anything?!?
And fine, maybe he’s also feeling a bit warm because of you.
World’s Biggest Blue Baller, yep, it’s you.
Nah. He’ll get you one of these days. Despite whatever game the two of you are playing, he will win. He knows it, feeling the certainty thrum in his blood. It’s why he’s the leader of his friends, the pack of the herd, the man of the men. Because when Eren Yeager has his mind set to what he wants, he’ll get it.
Besides, those quiet smart girls are always the most fun to break.
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hanasnx · 7 months
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Baby daddy! Anakin has a thing for stretch marks that you got due to pregnancy. He's a JERK who feels proud of having "permanently changed/marked your body".
he had a sick sense of pride when your tits grew too. like you’ve got that sag to em and that stretch. how your nips have been permanently altered to a downturn. he loves them, he loves your tits, those things fed his and your child. and fed him a bit too at some point—
but it also reminds him that he’s had that effect on you. like.. he can’t get over that. it gets him so intoxicated. the level of devotion you must’ve had to carry his child. is that not the pinnacle of dedication? he twists it to fit his delusions. you changed your body for him. it’s different than before, and you did it willingly. you can’t look at yourself and not think of him
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bones-of-a-rabbit · 6 months
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planning smthn,,
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(and by planning i mean i have one(1) page sketched out at all even a little bit period)
but stay tuned,, for a tale of some emotionally unwell robots and their struggle to be normal abt it every time you leave for more than five minutes <3
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forbidden-sunlight · 1 year
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False Garden of Eden [yandere!various!csm x stoic!reader]
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Credit goes to @hana-no-seiiki for inspiring and collaborating with me to write this piece that is based off their current CSM series Chainsaw and Happiness Pillbox [link to story is here!] and @lyomeii for proofreading/editing, especially with that one I was stuck on lol :)
The intention of this story is for entertainment purposes only, it is not my personal belief(s). The behavior exhibited here is inappropriate and unhealthy, hence it should not be encouraged.  There are also triggers, so please take caution. You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Content and Trigger Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Strong Language, Gaslighting, Stalking, Toxic Relationships, Toxic Behavior.
Humanity disgusted you.
For all their philosophical talk on the importance of imperfections and cherishing all life around them, their greed knew no bounds. Even when they had a roof over their heads or a warm meal in their bellies or hadn’t had their lives cut short by disaster, they wanted more. More, more, more. You knew it was only a matter of time before their mistakes became their undoing….but why did your husband love these pitiful creatures like an owner fawning over their precious dog? It baffled you. But to her credit, Makima was quite good at that; a great manipulator who lured others into Public Safety when they were at their lowest, and those who defied her commands would be on their knees, begging for mercy. Just like what she had done to you all of those years ago.
The chains she had coiled around your body was a contract of fidelity; a marriage, a vow to love and protect each until ‘death do us part’. In her terms, ‘love’ meant being an obedient wife who should kiss or embrace their weary husband after a troublesome day at work, and vice versa. Obviously, Makima referred to herself as the husband. It was her right as the ancient, powerful Control Devil to protect the pitiful Dreaming Devil. This unfortunate person was you, of course.
Sighing, you hoisted yourself up from the ground with gloved hands on your knees, using one to wipe the sweat on your brow before glancing around the valley. This area had been protected for the last century from being demolished and turned into a condominium because it was within the jurisdiction of a shrine outside Tokyo. And for the last century, it has served as a secret place for you to escape the city and remove yourself from the mask of a devil hunter in the Intelligence sector.
To bask in the solitude of nature for a few glorious hours before returning to the home that you shared with Makima. The priest did not mind if you planted seeds for a small garden, so long as you did not do anything to anger the gods’ resting place. A small price to pay for a ‘contract’ that allowed you to have freedom. In the time you have found this place, the small garden became a chaotic, lush area. And you would not have it any other way…except perhaps not two crows that you knew were under Makima’s control.
It was her way of respecting your privacy with a little….surveillance. You repaid such kindness by flipping up your middle finger and blowing a raspberry.
Yet despite the feeling of tranquility that flows over your stressed body, to be able to inhale the air in your lungs and just breath from the leash she had around your collar you knew deep down that this is not true freedom. Aware and you wanted more than just a garden to be free. You wanted to leave Tokyo and never come back. To go to some hidden corner of the world where no one, not even Makima, would even dream to think you would go.
You frowned. Wonderful. Now you felt like a hypocrite because of your excessive greed for freedom. Because without this garden, you knew you would have gone insane much sooner than your current mindset, being slowly and meticulously chipped away by Makima’s machinations until her focus reverted to Denji.
The boy who was a shell to the Chainsaw Devil. Her idol, the Hero of Hell. He was everything to Makima….but to you, he was dangerous. As the Dreaming Devil, you were both a strong and weak devil. You thrived on the fear from the poor souls who were trapped in the illusion of their worst nightmares - a tactic that your husband has used on more than one occasion in an interrogation with a stubborn suspect - and yet with dreams themselves, pure and impure, they made you weak. Since Denji’s mindscape was full of these dreams, he was less than an ideal partner to be around when devil hunting. Especially since Makima had every intention of using you as an incentive for the kid and ensuring his absolute obedience towards Public Safety.
So why didn’t it bother you as much as you thought it should? Did it have something to do with the Chainsaw Devil himself? Or were you just being stupid?
More importantly, why the fuck did Makima have to bring him home, of all the dogs she could have possibly selected? She knows how dangerous the Chainsaw Devil is. If the ‘dog’ had been another Hayakawa Aki, then there wouldn’t have been too many issues.
Well-known asshole and a competent Public Safety official, at least Aki knew when to stand down, or at the very least be much more aware of the situation than Denji was.
You still did not understand why his face always turned red when he was within your vicinity. Humans had weaker immune systems than devils, so he could just be sickly from making too many contracts than the average hunter.
Still doesn’t explain why you would run into him even though you never tell anyone where you’d be in the city. Even Denji would just so happen to be nearby when he ran up to greet you like an enthusiastic mutt.
Shaking your head, you resumed your work in the garden. Once weeding had been finished and some of the bushes trimmed, the skies began to transmute into a dark blueish color, overriding the reddish-orange hues of the remaining daylight. Ah. You have been here too long. It was time to go. Back to the cage that was a ‘home’ to Makima and her dogs.
Fumbling around in your pants pocket, your deft fingers removed a glass vial filled with sand. Pulling up the cork, you shook out the sand and murmured under your breath, allowing it to engulf your body in a vortex and teleport you approximately half a block from the condominium.
It wasn’t hard to see why the Dreaming Devil was also known as the Sandman to the humans who feared them so.
Wiping off some of the dirt on your shoulders and pants, the Dreaming Devil who craved freedom was gone, and in its place was a stoic human who worked under the Public Safety’s Intelligence sector, [First Name] [Last Name].
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When she got off of the elevator on the third floor, Makima smiled. Ah, her wife was finally home from gardening and had dinner almost ready. She hadn’t intended to stay at the office until late, but Denji needed an extra incentive. Or would it be considered a punishment to fondle his superior’s chest when it was obvious that he’s lusting after her spouse?
She blinked for a moment, then shook her head. Well, either way, he was motivated to kill the Gun Devil. Promising a puppy that he’d get anything he wanted in exchange for destroying an enemy was effective. She briskly walked down the carpeted hall and towards a door with 307 etched in golden lettering. With a quick turn of the key, she stepped into the hallway and was immediately bombarded by her precious pups.
Makima gave a short laugh, her grin widening as she gave each of them a good scratch behind the ears. “Yes, Custard, Papa is home. Were you good for Mother today? I hope you were too, Tiramisu, or no special treat for you tonight. The same goes for you, Strawberry! Don’t think Mother did not tell me about how you tried to chew up the television remote again! You know that isn’t a toy.”
Once all of her precious children were given affection, she walked into the kitchen and saw her sweet spouse standing in the kitchen cleaning the dirty dishes. Makima glanced over at the dining room table and saw that everything had just been plated. Miso soup, grilled fish with rice, and boiled veggies. A typical Japanese staple, minus the wine glasses filled with a visceral red she was all too familiar with.
Although devils did not need human food to sustain their appetite, Makima truly appreciated the time and effort her wife had put into planning the meals they shared. Especially acquiring blood without tipping off any of the other tenants. Yet what caught her attention was [First Name]’s shoulders. She was shivering. Did she forget to put on a sweater after taking a shower?
Goodness, she was a forgetful one, wasn’t she?
But that’s all right. This is why the Dreaming Devil had a reliable husband to look after her well-being.
“Is everything all right?” Makima asked as she approached [First Name] from behind, wrapping her hands around her spouse and resting her chin on the devil’s shoulders. “It isn’t very cold in the apartment? Did you spend too much time outside again?”
[First Name] did not answer. Instead she kept scrubbing dishes in the sink with a soapy sponge, hot water spewing from the faucet. Yellow orbs widened slightly as realization hit Makima.
Ah. Is she afraid that something bad happened at work earlier today and she’d be punished for it? Silly, silly spouse.
“If you’re waiting on something, don’t worry.” Makima felt [First Name]’s body quiver even more when she tightened her grip on her spouse’s middle. “I love you very much, [First Name], and would never allow anything or anyone to hurt you. No one will ever lay a finger on you but me.”
Denji...and Aki....they might look at her wife but they will never lay a hand on her. Although she has been a good girl and never interacted with anyone except for the cashiers at the grocery store they will never stop covering what they desire the person who is hers by divine right.
Taglist
@hana-no-seiiki
@lyomeii
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amostnobleyandere · 5 months
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Yandere! Ragbros x GN Reader Imagine
CW/TW: YANDERE!!!! CONTENT!!!! If you are not 18 and/or comfortable with possessive behavior, implied kidnapping, toxic relationships, and everything else that comes with yandere content, do not read!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not responsible for what media you to choose to consume.
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I just love. the idea of ragbros being supportive and complacent towards the other’s yandere tendencies once one of them finds a darling. bc it’s like, you were already screwed when one of them fell for you, but now the other one is in on it. and they’re throwing you into your captor’s arms because they care more about their sibling’s happiness than your feelings and free will.
because ultimately, they’re brothers; their relationship is incredibly strained, yes, and they’re weird around each other, yes, and neither of them can communicate worth a shit but imagine
Kaeya, who after falling in love with you quickly gives into his overly possessive feelings with only the smallest shred of guilt. Fawning over you, while at the same time manipulating you into his arms. And Diluc hasn’t seen his brother like this in a while; vulnerable, and painfully happy. Happy in a way that makes his chest ache. This is the Kaeya he had missed ever since the day their father died, because something in you had brought him back from the fake persona he had crafted around himself. Diluc’s been hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia, becoming overpowered by the part of himself that never stopped caring about his brother.
On the other hand, from Kaeya’s pov when Diluc starts pining (stalking) for you from afar—he’s more curious than anything. His brother? Falling madly in love? Abandoning all his morals and logic for one person? He’s a little dumbfounded. He thinks about it. Considers the implications. and well. Diluc deserves it. He deserves something good. He’s lost so much, and he does so much for the city already. Shouldn’t Kaeya just help him have this one thing, that he wants more desperately than anything else in the world?
they know how fucked up it is and they don’t try to delude themselves into thinking that maybe they could help the situation; they’re completely aware of how unhinged and unethical the things they’re putting you through are.
If anything, the process of ruining your life probably fixes their relationship. or at least, it makes the rift between them a little smaller by revealing the soft spots they still have for each other after all those years.
and hey, if the other ends up falling for you too, that wouldn’t be too bad right? they might not be the greatest at sharing, but it’s a comfort knowing you’ll definitely never get away with both of them hovering over you and watching your every move.
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riizeblr · 2 months
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rating: 18+. mdni.
content: toxic behavior
thinking about best friend!wonbin who gets too attached after you drunkenly hook up…
he wanted you for so long but you would jokingly play it off and he felt so much relief when he finally got to fuck you. you were so sweet and just what he imagined you to be. you even stayed the morning after with a bashful smile and apologies on your tongue. you used his shower and borrowed his clothes, eating the breakfast he made you and lounging on his couch with him while you got over your hangover with the pain killers he fed you.
wonbin was convinced you were dating because there was no way you’d act like nothing happened if you didn’t mean it to, even if you were drunk. he got really clingy and possessive and he constantly asked you invasive questions — something he already did, but he would get irrationally angry when you wouldn’t answer him. you seemed put off by his behavior but wonbin really didn’t see the problem with it, if anything, you were the problem in his head.
he would pull you towards him and make you follow him around, getting upset when you would resist. when you did, wonbin would turn up the attitude, a dark cloud following you around as you attempted to have any sort of fun until you had no choice but to give in because you know how wonbin can be when he was upset with you.
it also really set him off that you would only act as sweetly as you did that night when you were drunk. wonbin craved those moments at first. he dragged you to as many parties as he could, tried to give you an extra glass of wine when you were at his house, just to get you to cuddle up to him and whisper in his ear.
even then, you didn’t put out like you did the first night so wonbin had to pump his dick to the simple thought that was fading away with each day. but that’s okay, he reasoned, you were just nervous. your relationship was so new and your friendship already blurred the lines so it made sense that you didn’t know how to handle it now. you didn’t know that wonbin was yours and you were his.
wonbin still had the right to be angry, though. he still had the right to argue and sometimes physically fight with the men that pursued you. you told him how much you hated it and wanted him to stop but he didn’t bother listening to you because he was just a protective boyfriend.
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Note
Hello! I hope you’re well! Could I please request a yandere male idol with a fem reader? The reader is his manager and overworks a lot
A/N: I am currently a sick little dude without any motivation, so I’m sorry this one is a little sucky-- gonna try my hardest to make something Christmassy before christmas!! (Also anon I loved this and the gardener idea I'm just hella slow (TヘT) )
TW: manipulation, gaslighting, yandere-ish themes, fear of abandonment
Synopsis: As an overworked manager to a well-known but conceited idol, you plan on quitting right after one of his shows. Unfortunately, your client is a lot more convincing than you expected. 
Word Count:2800
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The ending lyric to an all too familiar preppy, upbeat song was muffled behind the dressing room door you stood next to. Even the applause and screams of excitement could be heard through the thin performance center walls as you gathered up your bag. 
Feet stomped outside the door, rushing bodies moving back and forth to push stage equipment and props, making sure it all moves discreetly in time for the audience to stay oblivious. And, for the main idol to stay compliant. You waited to hear the heavier clacks of polished dance shoes, the sound of heavy breathing from hours of singing and layers of clothes being rustled. You smelt his hairspray before you heard his signature sounds, heart sinking at the fact that he was off the stage so soon. It only meant the confrontation you were dreading would come much faster than anticipated.
You used the small towel in your hand to dab at your forehead, looking at yourself in the bright vanity, hoping your client wouldn’t notice how obviously nervous you were. 
The door in front of you roughly shoved open, nearly hitting you until it slammed shut again, the star of the show leaning against it. He sighed heavy breaths, shutting his eyes and wiping at his forehead with his hand as he stood slumped. 
“Here,” You gestured the towel to him, wrapping it back into a perfect square like he preferred. 
He looked at you without a forethought, taking the towel.
“Thanks,” He snatched the water bottle out of your hands as well, moving over to his vanity. “Would’ve been more useful earlier, but whatever.” 
You didn’t let his words sting you like they did the first time you heard them. You knew it wasn’t personal, he was just in another mood after the unending performance he just gave for the second time tonight. 
“How was the show?” You asked, taking small steps towards him. 
He removed the pastel-pink wig from his head with a wince, tugging at the face tape stuck to it without remorse. 
“I don’t know, you tell me. You were the one watching.” 
“Actually, I wasn’t,” Your voice quivered a tad. “I just got here.” 
“What the hell? Why weren’t you here? What if something happened,” He began to untie the small tie around his neck, voice sounding somewhat softer despite his mood. “You know as my little ‘slave’ you’re supposed to be here 24/7.”
The idol ripped open a makeup wipe bag.
“I-, I know.” You looked at him in the mirror.
“What if there was a wardrobe malfunction? I could be doomed. And then who’s fault would that be?” He said casually, rubbing a wipe underneath his eyes to remove smudged mascara. 
“Yeah, I know…”
“So, what’s your excuse this time.” He asked in a bored tone, looking up at you. 
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something serious-- Uh, something about my job as your, you know, manager.”
“Okay…” He said in a suspicious tone, rubbing at his lips to get rid of thick lipgloss and foundation. 
“Well, I feel I’ve outlasted my stay here. I mean, with the performance agency, and as your--”
The idol suddenly spun around in his chair, eyes wide and makeup half gone. He looked exhausted beneath the partly gone concealer and heavy eyeshadow-- all pieces made to make him stand out better in front of the crowd. 
“You know how much I appreciate you, right?” He said in the sweetest tone, looking at you with doe eyes. “You do so much for me, I don’t tell you that enough.”
You rolled your eyes, watching him use his fan-interaction voice with you. You hated when he tried to use his work voice-- you could stand the baratement when he was upset, but not the cutesy, shrill tone that bled disenguinity. 
“Miha, don’t do that.” 
“Do what? I’m just being honest.” He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him. 
The thing about Miha was that he could be sweet when he wanted to-- whether it was fake or not, he could do it. The problem was that naturally, he wasn’t. His natural response to those around him was selfishness and possessiveness. If he suddenly felt he should be generous or kind, he’d flip like a light switch. But that thought hardly ever entered his mind unless it benefited him. Despite knowing this, you allowed him to bring you close. 
Petting your hands he took a look at your nails, comparing them to his own. 
“When was the last time you took care of yourself? Your nails are awful, look at these.”
He picked at the dirt underneath your fingernails with his polished black ones, his hair still slicked back within the wig cap covering his head as he poked and prodded at your fingers. If you let him, he would’ve obsessed over them until they looked as nice as his pedicured ones. 
“Don’t change the subject.” You groaned. “I came here because I needed to tell you that I-- I can’t be your manager anymore.”
“Well I could’ve figured that one out myself, stupid. You looked like a kicked puppy when I came in; did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
He slapped your knuckles as a small form of punishment.
“So what is it, you want a raise?” 
“No, it’s not that.”
“More benefits? The agency not giving you enough? You’ve always been a bit of meek thing when asking for things, haven’t you.”
“Its nothing to do with the money--”
“So then, maybe its me? I know there’s been more work lately because of the tour, but you’ve always been so good at handling it. And I can’t do it without you,” He didn’t look at you while saying the compliment, returning to his vanity and stripping himself of the rest of his makeup. 
“Miha,” You cut him off, trying to make yourself appear more assertive. “I just can’t take being your-- your ‘slave’, anymore. I’ve been with you since your debut, these past six years have just... Become too much for me. The work, the stress.”
“Oh you know I just call you that as a joke,” He waved his hand, unbuttoning his shirt. “And besides, the fact that you’ve been with me for so long is why you have to stay. You can’t leave me now, not when my career is at its peak.”
“But--”
“But what?” He turned back around in his chair, shirt unbuttoned and face bare. He seemed more human like this, not all dressed up like when he was on stage or talk shows. All performers and idols had some sort of ‘face’ to put on, but it was more intimate when he was honest with you like this. “I don’t understand why you want to leave me.”
Miha huffed, getting up to walk slowly towards you and your packed bag. You usually left a few things in his dressing room, your “office” being a lonely desk in the corner of it where you’d set up your laptop and make countless phonecalls. But now, it was empty except for a lonely pen holder. He had been your only client for the past few years ever since you suddenly stopped getting new work from the agency, so you basically made his dressing rooms your second home.
You watched him rub the white cloth you handed him when he first came in along his chest. Slowly, he tried to see if you were watching, enticed in how he got rid of the sweat still clinging to his skin. 
“You don’t really want to abandon me, do you? I don’t think I could make it without you,” Miha bent down to your height, trying to find your eyes. You kept looking away, only making eye contact once the bottom of his water bottle was forced under your chin. “ You know you’ve always been more than just a manager to me…” 
He gripped your loose shirt, pulling at the bottom of it to bring you closer. You knew his games, knew that he’d often use his pretty boy charm to sway executives and talent judges. But this, something about it felt off. Yes, he was using his sad puppy dog charm, but there was an essence of… desperation in his voice. 
“Don’t do this, not right now…” 
“Do what…?”
“Try to act all mopey, trying to get me to stay.” 
“But I do need you to stay--! I can’t rely on anyone else--” 
“Miha--” 
“Besides, do you know what’ll happen if you try to leave me?” 
“I’m not leaving you--”
“You’ll be kicked from the agency. You’ll find it very hard to get work again. And if it gets out that you left me so horrendously….well, I can’t say I can predict how my fans react. You know how upset they get at the drop of a hat.”
He tugged you closer, pulling your hips flush with his own. 
“So just stay where you are, okay?”
His mouth was near your ear, heavy breaths against your warm flesh as he waited for your answer. You didn’t need to respond verbally for him to know he caught you in his web. But still, you were hesitant.
“That would never happen, no one cares about meaningless agents, especially since you’ve basically been my only client for the past few years... I’ll be fine,”
“But you won’t.” Miha grabbed your face with his hands, looking down at you as if you were just a small creature in his presence. “I don’t want to have to make it harder for you… and I won’t, if you stay by my side. Just be my cute little assistant like you have been, okay?”
“Manager.” You corrected.
“Yeah, my cute little manager.” 
You gulped at his words, watching his eyes as they traveled where yours did. He seemed to be anticipating your answer, not sure whether to lean in and kiss you or keep holding onto you so you couldn’t leave. 
“Miha…are you really threatening me?”
“No! I wouldn’t call it that. I’m just… giving you a heads up, is all. If you leave, that’s going to happen. So it’d be wise to stay, wouldn’t it?” 
“But I can’t, I just can’t live like this anymore.”
“Of course you can! I know i’m a bit--- difficult, but I can be easier if you just stay with me. I’ll change, I promise. It’ll be different now, just focus on me and don’t worry about everything else.”
You looked away, nervous and not entirely believing his words. A part of you wanted to believe he was capable of change, but you knew he was good at fabricating lies to keep people where he wanted them. Yet, you couldn’t deny the tight grip he had on your hips, the way his feet stood outside yours to prevent you from turning away. He was desperately trying to keep you there, to stop you from walking out that door with his words and his body language. 
You could see how lost he was; the man hardly knew how to take care of himself outside of the rigid schedule he was kept on. To be honest, he really did need you. He’d fall apart if you weren’t there, and you both knew that. 
Miha huffed, seemingly impatient with your indecision.
“Look, would it make you feel better if you came to my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner, we can just sit down and relax. No work, just two ‘coworkers’ hanging out.” 
“I don’t know…”
“Atleast do this for me before you try to go off, okay?” 
You think about it for a moment. It couldn’t hurt, right? You’ve had dinner with clients before, but never at their actual homes. Stomping your feet out of frustration, you nodded reluctantly. Miha clapped his hands like a child, stripping off the rest of his shirt and pulling a new, more casual one on over his head. 
“Yay! Okay, don’t worry I’ll take care of everything.”
He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist a dinner offer. You’d been to his place multiple times, but it’d be different this time. He finally set some precautions to prevent any uncessary… attempts to leave. And before you knew it, you’d find yourself in his bed, cuddled up next to him without an ounce of awareness. 
“Just a small dinner, right? I can’t stay out too late.” You checked your watch and saw the small hand rest on the eight. 
“You’re such a worrywart. Don’t worry I’ll have you home before ten.” Miha lied, grabbing his big coat and flinging it on. 
The male pulled a folded face mask from the vanity, a crinkled black piece of fabric with elastic strings that he had already worn today when trying to get to the performance center without being noticed. 
You felt stupid standing there, having had the full intention of storming out with your belongings and claiming your freedom only minutes earlier. And yet that hadn't happened. You still stood in the same spot as usual, clutching onto your bag and waiting for the world renowned idol to be done getting ready. 
"Hold this." He said, handing you his duffle bag as he searched on the vanity for another item. You took it without a forethought, used to having to carry his items when he moved to and fro.  "I actually got something special for you. A little gift to commemorate my growth, you know."
You perked up at that, surprised. Miha never got you gifts, especially not out of the blue. Often he'd 'reward' your hard work with obsessive kisses and tight squeezes but you never considered that a gift, unlike him. 
Miha would have spoiled you more if he felt you wouldn't be put off by it, but didn't want to destroy the… "professional" relationship that you seemed so keen on keeping. Even when he offered to give you himself for the night-- multiple times-- you never gave in. It would be "too complicated" you always said, but he never saw that as a no. It was only a matter of time until he got you in his grasp. And he was sure the sleeping meds and red merlot he bought would be enough. 
You tried to peak at what miha was doing, but he turned around faster than you expected. 
"Here it is!" He rushed in front of you, pulling out your free arm and turning your wrist towards him. You watched him put a cold chain of metal around your wrist, adjusting the clasp so that it sat evenly. Looking in the vanity mirror he brought up your arm, showing what he had placed on you. It was a shiny piece of jewelry, a bright 'M' held by both sides of the chain.
"Uh… M?"
"for Miha. Or 'mine'. Which ever you prefer, little slave." He leaned down beside you, giving a small yet chaste kiss to your cheek. "Either way, it's a symbol of how you're staying with me. I was planning on giving it to you on my debut anniversary but…"
You looked at the bracelet with wide eyes and a slack jaw, completely surprised at the formality of the gift. It was beautiful-- simple, something most people wouldn’t notice out of the corner of their eye-- but still priceless. It didn’t look like your average piece of costume jewelry; and knowing miha, he tended to go all out when he had an idea. 
“Miha I can’t accept this--” You attempted to unclasp the jewelry before the idol stopped you. 
“You have to, I’m not giving you a choice.” Miha grinned, adjusting the piece. “Its a symbol of how you’re my manager… I’ll always be your number one, right?”
You stood mouth agape, unsure how to respond. This was the first time he’d ever gone out of his way to give you something that seemed --almost-- entirely out of selflessness. You nodded your head, gripping tight onto the duffle back slung over your shoulder. 
Miha gave you a small wink in the mirror, enjoying how you seemed caught off guard. He caressed your face with a finger as you struggled to say thank you.
With it, you realized the chain did more than just give you a sparkly hand-- it symbolized your long-developed capture, one you had been slowly falling into ever since you helped Miha rise to stardom.
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