#yandere jujustu kaisen x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Mobile Tumblr US users spend an average of 4.04 minutes per session on the app.

#yandere jujustu kaisen x reader

cheesecakethots · 5 months

Text

thinkin’ about mahito obsessing over a nervous wreck of a darling.

you run into him on a busy street, stammering out apologies and barely glancing up from your feet. you don’t notice the strange looks you’re given from strangers around you, strangers who see you talking to no one.

you go on with your day, and so does mahito, despite the amusement he got from the interaction. the next time you meet is when you catch him mutilating someone in a dark alley.

you don’t scream, knees buckling and mouth agape, instead trembling with wide eyes and a dry throat. he tilts his head at the sight of you, dropping the corpse with a bright laugh, “oh, it’s you!”

your life is never the same after it.

he follows you everywhere, essentially making your home his second place of residence, that is other than the sewers. your already horrible sleeping pattern becomes horrific with him around. a lot of the time he’ll sit at the head or foot of your bed, resting his face on his hands and watching you almost dreamily. the expression only grows in cheerfulness at any increasing fear you have.

he’ll follow you to work, practically hanging off of your shoulder and peering over at everything you do. if a customer is particularly rude or flirty with you, he might stand behind them and call out to you from across the room, asking if you think he should make their eyes pop out of their skull. he hasn’t done anything of the sort yet, but you know that probably won’t last for long.

he’ll follow you when you go out to hang around with the few friends you have. he’ll start pretending that he’s about to stick his hand through their chest only to see you panic and embarrass yourself, and then he’ll roll around in a ball, laughing his ass off. you soon start cutting yourself off from your friends. mahito prefers it that way; you don’t want to see him jealous.

really, he thrives off of your anxiousness and the reactions you give him. oh? touching you here elicits a squeal? what if he licks your lips, how will you react then? gosh, he finds your stammering so cute. he finds you so cute. sometimes he wishes to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze you, but he manages to refrain, at least enough so that his tight hugs don’t actually damage or kill you.

he’s not particularly fond of the idea of others making you nervous like he does, however he can admit it was adorable when he introduced you to those he “works” with, and you hid behind him a little, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt with a shy hand. he hadn’t let you out of his arms for a few hours after that, occasionally whining about how cute you were acting and roughly ruffling your hair with his face.

it might be a good idea to start finding someone who can take care of him, as the idea of keeping you locked in your own home or dragging you to the sewers is becoming more and more appealing by the day.

#I tag this shit as mahito x reader without the yandere because let’s be real mahito is this bad even as a non yan #tw yandere #yandere #tw.yandere #yanderecore #yandere mahito x reader #yandere mahito #mahito x reader #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere jujustu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen

2K notes · View notes

starwritesyanderes · 1 year

Text

★ WELCOME TRAILBLAZERS!

⋆｡°✩ i’m Star, allow me to show you stories from around the galaxy!!

my whole blog is yandere based, both romantic and platonic! so if you're uncomfortable with it or just don't like the content then please dni! i would rather you care about your mental health instead of reading my blog :)

ALSO!!! this is for entertainment only, this sort of behavior is unhealthy, please don't interact if you believe that sort of behavior is right ‼️‼️

★ WHAT DO I WRITE FOR?

★ jojo's bizarre adventures (1-6 as of right now)

★ fullmetal alchemist (brotherhood as well)

★ one piece

★ jujustu kaisen

★ fairy tail

★ hunter x hunter

★ yu-gi-oh! (all series!)

★ spy x family

★ demon slayer

★ cardcaptor sakura (mainly platonic)

★ haikyu!!

★ ace attorney

★ sonic x

★ pokémon (the multiple animes)

★ also anything from studio ghibli!

★ bungo stray dogs

★ black butler (i literally forgot abt this 💀💀)

★ let me know what anime you would like to see here :)

★ NOW ONTO VIDEO GAMES!

★ honaki star rail

★ genshin impact

★ stardew valley

★ bendy and the ink machine

★ cuphead

★ legend of zelda (all titles!)

★ sonic (any of the games)

★ pokémon games!

★ twisted wonderland (pretty guys!!!!!! whahhakbskwbwkbwksb)

★ resident evil (games i know best are 2, 4, 6, and 8 <3)

★ lemme know anymore video game recommendations:)

★ DNI IF:

★ you're uncomfortable with this type of content!!

★ you are homophobic

★ if you're racist

★ if you try and ask for nsfw

★ if you're expecting this to be a character x character blog, strictly x reader

★ try and ship real life people, not my jam and i'm really uncomfortable with it

i hope you enjoy my content! <3

41 notes · View notes

gojorgeous · 3 months

Text

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

25K notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 6 months

Text

Nanami Kento

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap

AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~

fem reader

You started coming to his home office once a week.

Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face.

But you came around to like him soon enough.

He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started.

And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.

When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.

He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.

Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.

You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.

He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat.

He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.

He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more.

He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.

He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~”

He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off.

It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.

He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.

He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.

“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.

His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.

You take it in with doe eyes.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”

You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”

He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”

“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.

“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy.

But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap.

“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.”

He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow.

“There you go, just like that. Good.”

You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.

Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?

You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.

So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...

You'll do it.

You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.

It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.

In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.

“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.

“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”

You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”

“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”

You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly.

He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”

You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips.

It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.

He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.

“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.

He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.

But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.

“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.

Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking.

“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.

Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk.

He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.

You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.

“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees.

His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.

He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.

You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.

“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.

“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”

But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.

“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.

You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.

“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile.

You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.

But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.

“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.

His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.

He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt.

“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.

Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.

The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.

You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.

You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.

There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath.

He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing.

It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide.

He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you.

It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.

Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.

He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.

You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.

“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips.

You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.

“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.

He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.

“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum.

He smiles.

“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”

You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.

But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.

“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”

You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”

You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”

sequel

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami x reader #yandere kento nanami #yandere kento #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #kento smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu nanami

8K notes · View notes

aajjks · 21 days

Text

Baby Daddy (m)

synopsis. you’re the prettiest ever.. he can’t help but breed you senseless.

warnings. ëxplïcït sèx, brèèdïng kïnk, unprötèctèd sèx, cryïng, mèntïön öf blèèdïng, röügh sèx, fïngèrïng, báby trâppïng, yändèrè tôji, pössèssïvènèss, hè cälls yöu èvèry pössïblè nïcknämè. mömmy kïnk, DÄDDY KÏNK.

note. he’s so 🫠😵‍💫😵‍💫… enjoy. Please keep in mind my smut writing skills are not the greatest, but I tried please share feedback x. GIF not mine credits to owner.

“Come on baby.”

He says as he trails his lips all over the skin of your neck, Toji knows you like it, the way you’ve got your eyes closed as he peppers sloppy wet kisses all over your neck gives it all away.

Or maybe it’s because he’s got his knuckles buried deep inside your dripping heat as he pleasures you with his fingers, your struggling breathing has got him almost cumming but he will hold on.

Your naked breasts are so perfect and your tear stained face looks like a masterpiece, Goodness you’re fucking gorgeous and he knows that.

That’s why he can probably lose you to someone else.

“Baby… please make my wish come true.” Whispering in your ear, He smirks as he increases his pace, curling his fingers deep inside you and he hits a spot because of the way your eyes roll back into back of your head.

You’re so weak for him and he hasn’t even really fucked your yet. You’re about to cum for the second time, he can feel it, you’re trying to say something but no words are able to come out of your mouth.

But he knows your body language better than anyone and he can do anything to make you feel good, and tonight he wants something from you and he’s going to make sure that he gets it.

“Aww baby, you gonna cum?” He keeps on working his magic with his large thick digits buried inside you, you moan so weakly, “Okay… you can cum.” The thing he loves the most about you is the way you’re so submissive and obedient you have him wrapped around your fingers and you don’t even realize it.

God, he loves you so much.

Toji is sweating and he curses under his breath when he feels you cum undone on his fingers, you whimper and mewl as you bury your face in his neck, shit he’s not going to last long either.

He’s so weak when it comes to you and his self-control immediately goes away whenever he fucks you.

“Oh, you feel good? Huh? Tell daddy, now baby tell me.” Your hair smells so good and your body is everything.

Your chest is so plush soft compared to his large hard chest, Goodness, he is so turned on right now.

So Toji lets you come down from your high and it takes you a few minutes, your orgasm must’ve been mind blowing for you to react like this, but it just strokes his ego even more.

Only he can make you feel this good.

“Yn… now it’s daddy’s turn.” When you give him the confirmation, and you know he smiles and satisfaction, he is completely naked, and soon, he pushes you into the bouncy soft mattress, the silk bedsheet is a mess but he couldn’t give two fucks.

He needs to cum in you and knock you up. and he’s told you that already even though you haven’t given him an answer, but he cannot wait anymore, he just been with him for years and the way you are so maternal around children, and even around him and his son from his first relationship, he knows that you were born to be a mother.

The mother of his children.

“Baby… now be a good girl for daddy and spread your legs.” He instrusts you as he climbes on top of you, your eyes are very glossy, and your mouth is all swollen, it’s even bleeding a little but he’s always been a rough kisser.

You’re so pretty, all for him, You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you look so breedable right now, his little Princess.

Toji knows it’s not going to hurt, so he starts to insert himself inside your wet cunt, and you shake a little because you can never get used to his size.

He’s big and he knows but you only bite your lip as you wait for him to fully settle himself into you, and as soon he manages to do that, you start moaning again, and that’s all he needs to go fully insane.

The way you trap his dick inside your pussy is magical because you’re so right that he can’t really move but you encourage him to move so he can make you feel good once again.

“A-Ah..” he groans once he finally mages to move and he’d merciless with his thrusts, your breasts bounce with every sensation and your noises are unstoppable.

He doesn’t want you to stop, “oh baby yes please keep moaning my name like that… I love y-you so much,” he buckles his hips and they’re into you, as deeply as he can.

He’s about to cum.

“G-Gonna breed my princess all nice & good- so she can give me a pretty baby… yeah?” He leans his face closer to yours as he feverishly pulls you in for a kiss.

His kiss is impatient and sloppy. You’ve got your hands wrapped around him and he’s really going to cum.

It’s insane how much you love him, and he knows that you might probably never leave him, but what is the guarantee? You see he’s been a little paranoid about you these days what is better than to make you a mother of his child?

“F-Fuck yn..” he breaths against your lips and he’s panting. “Gonna make you pregnant- you’ll look so pretty all swollen with my baby in you, eh?”

He teases you and you whine. Toji groans as he finally feels himself letting go and you whimper as he paints your walls white.

He’s cumming so hard that his shoulders are shaking while you dig your hands in his skin, yeah make him bleed, “oh mommy you’so good to me.” Slurring out, Toji pants,

He calls you mommy and you’re blushing.

And after a few minutes, The shaking of his shoulders comes to a halt and you’re both exhausted, panting, he grabs your body so you’re even more close to him

And of course he doesn’t pull out. You’re not on your pills.

This is more than perfect, because right now? You’re full of his cum.

“Gonna fuck you every single hour until you’re pregnant, yn. So make me a daddy soon, Princess.”

#toji smut #yandere jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #yandere toji #yandere fushiguro #jujustu kaisen smut #smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #toji x you #yandere x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

2K notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 1 year

Text

baby trapping - (vol. 2) suguru geto & satoru gojo

rating: e (18+) reader: f summary: being in the presence of two of the most powerful sorcerers in japan and quite possibly the world left you feeling small. a small time curse wielder known mostly for using a small rapier full of cursed energy. you fought almost with a dance like stance, it was like watching a beautiful performance as you slashed your way to victory. to geto and gojo, you were their little doll. tags: baby trapping, smut, multiple sex scenes, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty dirty stuff a/n: if have any other characters to add to the baby trapping collection, please check my pinned post and suggest your own! U・x・U

join my discord!

being in the presence of two of the most powerful sorcerers in japan and quite possibly the world left you feeling small. a small time curse wielder known mostly for using a small rapier full of cursed energy. you fought almost with a dance like stance, it was like watching a beautiful performance as you slashed your way to victory.

to geto and gojo, you were their little doll. a little ballerina in a jewellery box that did a small dance when you opened it. oh how they adored you, so small compared to them. geto once joked that handling you was like handling a sparrow, grab on a little too tight and he’ll break your delicate little wings.

and as much as you puffed out your chest telling them that you weren’t some weak little thing, you could never beat just one of them in a fight. you always ended up on your knees or on your back with one of your lovers over top of you, lavishly making out with you. the thrill of the fight causing tightness in their pants.

the three of you lived in a large home out in the country, as much as it annoyed you to be away from tokyo. but you found small pleasures in your large garden out back. you always wondered why the three of you needed so many bedrooms if the three of you slept in the main one.

“why not?” gojo asked as he cupped your face, smiling down at you, “guests, friends, family.” his smile grew. what was he talking about, none of you had family.

the snow was starting to come down in late november. the flurries stuck to the fallen leaves of the garden, that was when the sex got a little rougher. both had their sadistic streaks in them, as much as they showered you in affection they also used and abused your poor pussy. fingers, tongues, toys, and large cocks all found home in your wetness.

gojo had gone to the city which left you and geto alone. you whined that you wanted to protect the city but geto looked at you and implied that you didn’t want to spend time with him. and gave a soft frown.

“fine.” you said, “i’ll stay.” before you tightened the robe you wore and padded down to the kitchen to get some coffee. as you walked away you heard the two men murmur to each other, and felt their strong gaze on your back.

you watched the snowflakes fall as the coffee brewed. you heard gojo leave the house and soon geto was in the kitchen with you. his hand on your back as he leaned down to kiss you.

“staring at snowflakes, i see.” he said, his hand lingered down to your ass and gave it a good grope, “i was always more of a spring type of guy. renewal, life, birth.”

you snuggled up closer to him and leaned up for a kiss, “as much as I hate snow, i like when it’s all fallen and there’s that look of untouched snow.” you admitted, then letting out a small sound when his large hand squeezed your cheek.

just like you, geto thought. a virgin before the two men had their way with you that hot summer night after a round of drinking. in your small apartment, both men promising you to hide their little doll away. protecting you in their eyes.

geto flipped up the bottom of your robe and placed his large hand between your thighs, feeling your covered pussy. he smiled, eyes on the window as he continued to grope you.

“you know.” you said, looking to him, “if you want to have sex with me, suguru. ask me.” a smart woman you were, you’d make a fine mother by summer.

he huffed out a laugh and pulled you even closer to him, hand still on your ass, “well, will my fine love. my beloved, beautiful love. the most beautiful woman i have ever laid my eyes on, will she let me fuck her in our kitchen?” the corners of his mouth upturned.

you playfully shoved him, “okay, no need to over do it.” you undid the fasten of your robe and let it fall to the floor. there you stood in a sports bra and panties, a beautiful sight to your boyfriend.

he carefully pressed you up against the counter, face resting against the granite and your ass at perfect level for his cock. he pulled down your panties like he was unwrapping a christmas present and rubbed your ass before with his large hands spread your thighs.

“beautiful.” he dragged a finger across your pussy, feeling the wetness between your thighs. he brought the finger to his mouth and tasted your delightful wetness. “mmm.” he said, “perfect.”

“you better not cum in me as much last time, it got everywhere.” you remarked with your cheek against the counter and hands against the edge. you heard him chuckle behind you.

“i can’t help it, doll. you just bring something out in me.” he rubbed your lower back and smiled at your mostly nude form in front of him. he knew you were fine with both of them finishing inside of you.

you were on the pill for years now, but two months ago switched between gojo’s hand to geto’s then placed in the nightstand at your side of the bed. the sugar pills were good at faking as birth control, geto was surprised they even had the colouring of the pills right and the proper label on the box. he didn’t even want to know where gojo went to get this done.

it wasn’t like he was out of their little mission either, he wanted to see you round with his child as much as geto wanted to see you round with his. they wanted their little doll to be giving them children for a long time.

geto’s hand touched your stomach for a moment, open palm rubbing it which made you giggle a little. always the ticklish little thing. he placed one of his hands back on your hip as he pushed his cock inside of you, hearing the small groan and the tensing up of your pussy around his cock.

“relax, relax, baby girl.” he said softly, “it’s just me, you know this cock as well as you know your own body.” and groaned when you relaxed. he looked down at your body as he placed his other hand on your hip.

he started to push and pull against you, your noises were sweet and soft. it made him only harder. the prospect of you being with him and gojo forever because you’re having their babies made him aroused. the idea of breeding such a lovely sorcerer into a fine mother to create half a dozen even stronger curse users made him lick his lips.

you’d be theirs forever, out in the country. chasing around babies in diapers rather than curses. geto could almost imagine you waiting for them to come home with a nice round belly and a few young kids sporting either black or white hair.

geto was broken out of his train of thought when you started to moan his name and he picked up the pace. his grip tight on your hips, slamming his cock inside of you as he pushed deeper and deeper, he swore that his cock was bullying against your cervix. bruising it as a reminder of him.

yeah c’mon, mama, he thought to himself as he slammed himself further into you. feeling the slick wet sounds of your love making in the kitchen. the sound of the coffee machine went off.

“my coffee is going to get cold.” you whined.

“then cum faster and it’ll be lukewarm.” he panted as he started to go faster, moving your top half up and down the counter, the smell of sex and coffee wafted in the air. your noises got higher pitched, the noises of your body rubbing against the counter and slapping of bodies together.

“fucking beautiful.” he panted, “god you’re beautiful. that’s why gojo and i wanted you so badly. an angel come to earth just for us. you know we love you right?” he moaned as the curl of pleasure in his gut tightened.

“i know! i know you love me!” you whimpered as your legs shook from being up right and the crashing waves of pleasure beat down on you in a wet lust, your pussy slick allowing him to bully your deepest parts even harder. his grip tightened and you whined in lust at the pressure. even if they were rough when it came to sex, you took it like the champ you were.

geto’s pace remained brutal and every loud moan that left your lips was accompanied by a harsh groan from your lover. bodies hitting together in ecstasy as the two of you fucked like rabbits in your home.

“that’s it, doll. fuck, you’re so beautiful. god, you’re so tight. fuck.’ he cursed as he felt himself grow closer to his orgasm. and from the tight, wet heat engulfing his cock he knew you were getting close to.

you two continued to fuck in the kitchen, eventually geto having enough of the position and quickly pulling out and pulling you both down to the tiled floor where he sat you on his lap and started bouncing you on his cock lie a maniac.

your head thrown back as your hands reached for his shoulders as you bounced along, the position hitting even deeper. battering against your g-spot as your mouth hung open in a symphony of moans and whines.

“i love this.” you panted.

“and I love you.” he replied as he kissed your chest. his mouth found your nipple and started to suck on it as he continued to move you up and down. he found it cute that you tried to match his pace but failing to do so. don’t worry, let geto take care of it.

soon you were feeling the highs of pleasure, your rolled back along with your eyes as you remained almost like a perfect sex toy on his cock. letting his cock bruise and mix your insides up with every hard thrust. you moans filled the air as the air got hotter with your activities.

geto kept his eyes gazed up at you as he turned his attention to your other nipple, sucking and nipping on the skin. occasionally biting at the skin around it. leaving dark bruises that’ll last a few hours.

“beautiful, doll.” he growled as he panted against your sweaty flesh. with a few more hard thrusts up into you, you both came at the same time. the house echoed with the sound of your orgasmic moan.

he came as deep as he could inside of you and said a silent pray that it would take while you trembled like a leaf in post orgasmic bliss. he leaned his head down and softly kissed your stomach while you were riding out your high. he’ll take you every day if he had to until it took.

gojo got home mid afternoon, he found you and geto in bed. both naked after a few extra rounds in the softness of your king mattress. geto was awake and reading while you were fast asleep. cum and sweat drying on your naked body.

his hand in your hair, only pulling away to turn the page. his eyes met gojo’s when he entered the room. the dark haired man pulled off his blindfold, finally able to relax for the rest of the day.

the white haired man pulled off his shirt and changed into something more comfortable, grey sweats and fuzzy pink socks that you bought for him the last time you were in the city.

he went over to geto’s side of the bed and kissed him on the cheek before he reached out and brushed strands of hair out of your eyes. he could see the cum stain on the corner of your mouth. he said to the other man, “wrong hole.”

geto’s sharp eyes looked to the man, “i can’t have her catch on. the plan is to play it off like nothing has changed. if we keep filing her full of cum, she might notice.”

gojo chuckled quietly, “that means she has more than two brain cells to rub together. she still hasn’t caught on why we never bring her to tokyo anymore.”

geto’s gaze lingered to your sleeping form, “we didn’t keep her because she’s stupid you know. we could’ve brought any bimbo home with us if we flashed enough cash.”

“none of them were rapier wielders. we wanted a bride that would give us strong children. she’s strong, but a little dumb.” gojo corrected.

it took two extra days before gojo had a day off, and like a man with a mission he had ever intention of slicking your inside with cum. he wanted so much inside of you that a poke to your belly would make it gush out. he was gross like that. he wanted to know that every last drop was inside of you.

all the mini gojo’s were trying to fertilize those eggs of yours, if geto hadn’t already beaten him to it. but he wasn’t one to back down if the odds wee against him. so while you the three of you watched television, gojo rubbed your inner thigh.

he liked when you wore short shorts around the house, but with winter like a looming cloud, you opted for longer relaxing pants. the kind with the stretchy waist, the kind that were easier to get into.

your head rested on gojo’s shoulder as he slipped his hand into your pants. you let out a soft moan as his long fingers touched your clit. geto was on the other side of the couch fast asleep.

he played with your clit over your panties before he whispered, “why don’t you get on my cock. but be quiet, suguru needs his rest.” before he pressed down on your sensitive spot which made you squeak.

gojo loved the sight of you, so small next to him. a perfect woman for both him and geto. even if his lover had impregnated you already, he would just have his turn next. but he was certain that his swimmers were stronger than geto’s.

he couldn’t wait until your belly become round, your breasts tender and leaky and your growing reliance on the two men. waddling around the house, struggling to do things because you’re in such a fragile state. but don’t worry your little head, gojo and geto would take care of you.

after all, you were giving them the most precious gift of all.

he helped you get your sweatpants off, and smiled at the sweet pink panties you were wearing. he playfully ran his finger across your covered slit before with both hands he pulled the underwear down to your ankles, where you got them off onto the floor.

“oh my.” he said quietly, “so beautiful.” he could see your hard nipples through your thin t-shirt and pinched one which caused you to make a semi-loud noise which made him shush you.

slowly he got you onto his lap, and guided his cock through your wet folds, until you were seated on his cock. from his knowledge this was the second best position to breed someone. besides doggy, but he’ll get to that later.

you made a small noise and his large hand covered your mouth before he started to move his hips up inside of you. you tried to match his pace. unlike the coordinated movements of geto, gojo liked to throw you off with his thrusts. moving fast like a rabbit then slow down so you can feel every inch of his cock inside of you.

“i love you.” he said.

“i love you too.” your quiet voice muffled by his hand.

his pace was slow at first. rolling of his hips up inside of you. his cock prodding and poking your innards. nudging against your sweet spot that made feeble little noises exit your mouth.

“beautiful.” he admired as he watched your eyes glaze over in lust. he started to pick up the pace, the squeaking of the couch didn’t wake geto which only encouraged the white haired man to go faster.

geto let out a soft snore as you lifted your hips up and down on gojo’s cock. your hands on his shoulders for leverage as the dark haired man slept soundly beside the both of you.

gojo let go of your mouth and held onto your hips to get a better angle. your both bounced on the couch and you bit your bottom lip to be quiet before the white haired man left a searing kiss on your lips to keep you silent.no need for your needy, whorish noises to wake up the other man.

he had a mission to breed you, impregnate you. he often masturbated in the shower to the idea of you growing life. stoking your middle, being a good little wife to your two men. and becoming a protective mother for your children. you were the right woman for the role, no one else could have what you were getting.

for a moment gojo grabbed you by the middle and started to force you further onto his cock. his thumbs rubbed your side, his eyes gazed down at your middle. praying he was going to be the one to watch it stick out over time. watching your belly button pop and the smile when you felt a kick. not the mention your milky breasts. he was going to have his fair share once it came in.

he continued to fuck you, and quickly you had to cover your mouth with both hands as you came around his cock for the first time. making it more slick and easier to fuck you with. he chuckled quietly as when you pulled your hand away your mouth was hung open and saliva was collecting at the tip of your tongue, dripping down on your clothed breasts.

“that’s it, doll. feel it. like the feeling of my cock inside of you. yeah, i know you do.” his voices were harsh whispers as you continued to ride him you nodded as you breathing became heavy pants, your body moved on its own as you held onto him. the squeaking of the couch enthralled you as you bucked against him. your head felt fuzzy as you rode him.

you felt gojo’s gaze on you as your breasts jiggled in his face. he purred in delight like a cat that caught the canary. his hands went to your breasts and he added his own bites to the lingering ones that geto left.

“beautiful pair you have.” he remarked as he licked his top lip, “can’t get enough of you, doll.” deadly with a sword, but docile as a kitten in his lap. you were going to give him lovely babies. don’t worry, he’ll be your shadow if he has to. just don’t leave the house too often, him and geto will worry too much.

your movements continued until you were clutching onto him tightly, your face in his hair and your breasts in his face. he groaned at the feeling of softness against his cheeks.

your pants grew louder as you buckled your hips and slammed down on his cock. eyes rolled back as you covered your mouth again and orgasm with the same intensity as the first time. the clutch around gojo’s cock made fireworks go off in his brain.

oh, he thought, that felt good.

“i know you love me cock, i know it hits all the right places.” he purred a he watched you nod in orgasmic bliss. he knew how to pull your strings, it involved eight inches pushed inside of you. he might be a bit smaller than geto, but his thickness made up for that.

he watched your breasts bounced as you moved on your own accord, he sat back and let the wash of pleasure come over him before he was biting his lip trying to hold back a loud moan.

it wasn’t long before he was gripping his wrists behind his head, letting you ride him as he shot his seed inside of you. he bounced his hips up, pushing as far as it’ll go and praying the way that geto did that it took.

as he watched you slow down, he could see in your eyes that the wires in your brain weren’t crossing right in that moment. he smiled up at you, a glimmer in those blue eyes.

“ready for another round, doll?” he asked.

in your blissed out state, you did nothing with your tongue out but nod. gojo smirked to himself, you were a dumb whore. addicted to men stronger than you who will breed you like the good girl you were.

too good to be true.

geto’s eyes opened to the sight of gojo fucking you in front of the television. your figure illuminated by the brightness of the screen. he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and you looked at him with an embarrassed expression. (as if he didn’t fuck you in the kitchen only a few days ago).

he chuckled a little, “get a room you too. or at least, let me join.”

fo the rest of the afternoon a the snow piled outside your bedroom window, your body was shared between the two men. both driving their cocks deeper inside of you, in their own little competition to impregnate you without your knowledge.

by the time you passed out on the pillows with both men book ending you, their still hard cocks pressed against you soft form, you were finally and definitely pregnant. large hands rubbed circles on your back and stomach as you snoozed in bed.

you were bred, you were theirs. and there was no leaving.

it was now april, the snow had started to melt around the compound. gojo was sneaking through the house in search of his lovers. he could hear the thud of the bed near by but didn’t know which room they were in.

eventually he slid open one of the doors and found you and geto in bed. oh my, what a sight. a whorish sight to behold. there you were, working on geto’s cock with your hands on your swollen belly, breasts jiggling with the movement of your hips. geto was panting and you were letting out the sweetest moans. even at almost six months pregnant, you took their cocks like a champ and they adored their little pregnant doll in return.

“oh, suguru.” gojo said as he unzipped his pants, “you can’t keep hogging her, it’s not fair. i want to show my baby mama some love too. soon she’ll be too close to popping for us to have fun.” in his underwear he got on the bed behind you, both hands fondling your engorged tits. dribbles of pre-milk beaded at your dark nipples.

“don’t worry satoru. even if this baby is mine, we still have a whole house to fill with the best sorcerers in the world. all thanks to our little angel here.” he patted your baby bump before he leaned up and started to suck at your breasts, tongue tasting the creamy milk which made his cock twitch harder inside of you.

you let out a strong moan as you came for the second time with geto’s cock inside of you and the both men said in unison, “good girl.”

- xoxo, U・x・U

#getou suguru x you #getou suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto smut #geto x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #yandere gojo #yandere getou #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen smut #pregnant reader

11K notes · View notes

kiwanopie · 2 months

Text

A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

671 notes · View notes

potato--mafia · 4 months

Text

When all you fanfic writers grow older than your fictional crush I hope you guys continue writing for them as "Milf/Dilf reader x char". I swear I'll be your no.1 fan then because my biggest fear is growing older than my fictional crushes and then not being able to simp for them on the same level as now because the fanfics with the readers being in their 20s would start feeling too young for me. Lol or maybe I'm just too emotional

684 notes · View notes

winkwonkwankwenk · 3 months

Note

yandere gojo with a pregnancy/lactation kink please

Felt like Gojo would have more a breeding kink if he was yandere so did a few tweaks n stuff

Word count: 1.3k

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader

SFW/NSFW

He’s watching you, lurking in the shadows of your apartment and waiting for you to notice him. You were supposed to be home hours ago, who were you out with? Who kept you away? He creeps up behind you, letting his blindfold slip from his eyes as his shadow looms over you. You’re humming quietly to yourself as you cook but you jump when his arms wrap around you tightly.

“Satoru! I told you to stop doing that!” You let out a quiet sigh when he nuzzles your neck, “At least announce when you’re here. I could’ve cut myself.”

“I’m sorry, Pretty girl.” He looks down at the knife in your hand, thinking of how pretty you’d look in red. “Where were you? I’ve been waiting since-”

“Did you sneak into my apartment again? I’m going to start locking my windows.” You grin when he grimaces, teasingly looking up at him only to see his smoldering eyes stare back. “Satoru?”

“Where were you?” His gaze is icy, freezing your breaths. “Answer me.”

“I was with some friends-”

“Who?” He pulls you closer by your wrist, watching the knife drop and hit the kitchen floor with a loud CLANK! “Who were you with?”

“...Geto.”

You squeeze your eyes closed when he leans down, lips pressed together. You whimper when he kisses you, knowing what’s about to happen. You’re going to be punished. You don’t think you’ve done anything wrong but you can tell he’s fuming by the way his tongue presses against yours. You moan into his mouth as he drags you upstairs, stumbling into the bedroom with him.

“S-Satoru-”

“What did I tell you about hanging around him, hm?” He roughly pushes you back on the bed, “Spread your legs.”

“But-”

“Be a good girl and spread. Your. Legs.” He smacks your thigh, “Now.”

You slowly spread as he slips your skirt down to your ankles, your panties following closely. You try hiding your dripping cunt with your hands but he pushes them down above your head. You knew he’d be upset but you had hoped you wouldn’t be caught- how foolish. Gojo was a loving boyfriend but possessive one, and when he told you not to hang around other guys he meant it. You had broken a rule, you had been a bad girl, and now he had to discipline you.

“Play with it.”

“W-What-”

“Play with that pretty pussy.” His voice is a low growl against your ear as he holds your hand above your cunt. “Get to it.”

You bite down on your lip to muffle your moans as you finger yourself, your aching core just out of reach. You look up at him with those pitiful e/c eyes but he ignores your silent plea, giving your hand a push to force your fingers in deeper. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your bottom lip, squirming when he pushes his fingers in with yours. It’s too much, you’re going to tear if he keeps thrusting them in like that! You try pushing his hand away by his wrist but his glare makes you shrink away.

“I was sitting, waiting for you, and you were out cuddled up with another man.” He lets you take your fingers out so he can continue pushing his in. “How’d his dick taste, hm? Did he touch you here too?”

“I-It wasn’t like that! We just got- mmh- coffee!” You try to crawl away but he’s got you trapped under him. His thumb circles your clit and you cry out “Satoru, please!”

“God, what do I have to do to get you to understand you’re mine?” He pushes his fingers back into your walls, stroking them against your sweet spot until you clench around him. “Your body knows, why don’t you?”

“I do know! I know!” Your eyes roll back at you pant, “I k-know~”

“Really? Tell me who you belong to then.” He curls his fingers inside of you, smirking as your body spasms.

“Satoru~!”

He laps up your juices until your cunt is clean, knowing he’s about to cream all over it anyway. He makes you watch him press his cock in, every inch filling your stomach until he’s stuffed inside. He starts slow only to tease you. He makes you beg, plead for him to speed up because he hits all your favorite spots when he’s tendering thrusting.

“Faster? Is this not enough for you?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before holding your mouth hostage in a frantic kiss. “Fine, but remember this is what you asked for.”

He pushes your legs back above your head as he slowly slides out, his tip barely inside your needy hole now. You arch your hips, trying to convince him to put it back in but he makes you wait. He traces your entrance with his dripping tip until a cocktail of your fluids drip onto the sheets- then he plunges back in. You cry out as he hits your cervix, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he keeps you pinned under his muscles. His stomach presses against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist so tightly you’ve got him locked on top of you. You’re squeezing his cock so sweetly, clenching tight enough to cut off circulation.

“Does it feel that good? Good enough for you to realize I’m the only one who can make you feel like this?” He pants, slapping your waists together and splashing your juices on his stomach. “Say it!”

“Hnnh~!” Is all you can moan out as his hips snap forward, his cock peeking from your stomach now.

“Say it, Y/N.” His fingers tangle in your hair as he yanks your head up, his thrusts slowing to a stop. “Say it or I’m done.”

“Satoru! Only Satoru makes me feel like this!” You scramble to say what he wants, “Please…put it back…need it.”

“You didn’t need it earlier when you were with that bastard-”

“Cum inside me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, hazy eyes staring up at him so innocently as you say something so vulgar. “Please…Satoru…I want you, only you.”

He rams back into you, mercilessly pummeling your pussy as he keeps you pinned in mating press. His eyes are different, narrowed and focused as you wither beneath him. He’s in deep, not deep enough though. You say you're his but he needs everyone to know, everyone. His teeth sink into your neck, tongue tracing dark circles on your skin. You turn into a melting mess of heavy breaths and high-pitched cries as he knocks around your womb, stirring your stomach until you feel his cock in your chest. You gasp when he grunts into your neck, his heavy load flooding your stomach.

“Be a good girl and get pregnant.” He whispers into your ear, tongue tracing it as he continues to slam into you. “Then he’ll have no choice but to know you’re mine.”

“S-Sa-anngh~” You can’t think straight, not when your stomach is burning from the warmth of his cum. He hasn’t stopped, you know he isn’t going to until he’s sure he’s knocked you up.

He wants to fill you until you’re oozing his seed and ruined beneath him. His teeth drag down your neck, leaving little red lines on your smooth skin. You can feel your heart racing and throbbing from head to toe as his cock jolts inside of you, coating your walls with thick ropes of semen until it bubbles out. Your legs stiffen, no longer able to stay above your head and plopping down on the mattress. He grinds against your exhausted groin as the two of you ride out your orgasms, whispering sweet praises into your ears as his body trembles.

“No one else can have you.” He rasps, kissing the hickies he’s left on your neck. “No one.”

Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!!

Join my discord!!

Fill my requests up!!😋

#Wink writes 💗#gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk #jjk x reader #satoru #yandere gojo

453 notes · View notes

cheesecakethots · 5 months

Text

brain rotting at the idea of being trapped with yan! gojo & geto, and being convinced that gojo is the worst of the two.

he’s always so perverse and gross, licking at your face if you cry, tackling you into tight embraces on a whim, keeping you pressed to him late at night with loud snores.

when you run, gojo is the one to grab you and bring you back, tossing you over his shoulder and laughing as he does so.

you soon start comparing him to a dog, one that slobbers all over you and bites and jumps at you at any given opportunity. he’s not like a wild dog, though. geto is akin to his owner, the one keeping him on a leash.

geto is the one who tugs him away by his hair when he’s treating your neck like his own personal chew toy, when you’re trembling in his lap with his teeth moving to bite once more.

geto is the one who pinches gojo awake when his hold on you at night has become insufferable, when he’s started to drool against your cheek and snore into your hair.

geto is the one to remind him to play nice when you start trembling and crying, when it’s become all too much for you.

that is, if you’ve been good. it’s when you haven’t that you realise geto is the one you should be more fearful of. like any dog owner, he’s adept at giving out orders.

ordering gojo to chase you down, to bring you here, to touch you there.

he’ll be the one to remind the blue-eyed man that you are sometimes in need of a stern hand, and if gojo’s not up to the task, suguru most certainly is.

it’s almost as though he knows when you’re about to act up before you do.

try and slip out the front door and you’ll be met with a particularly horrifying curse on the other side, while geto sits nearby, dark eyes on the newspaper in his lap, a leg crossed onto his knee as he reads. his full attention is on you, however he’s alright with letting you think he’ll be careless enough to allow you to be gobbled up.

he’ll watch as gojo presses hungry kisses to your lips from a nearby windowsill, lit cigarette in hand and soft smile on his lips.

it’s late at night when he’ll press himself behind you, and slip a hand under your shirt, cold fingers crawling up your stomach, another hand gently wrapping around the base of your throat while he softly hushes you, lips ghosting over your ear. it won’t take much for gojo to wake up and whine about the two of you leaving him out.

soon, you’ll start wondering why you ever thought that satoru was the worse of the two. he may be akin to a predator, but that only means suguru is all the more terrifying for having tamed such a beast.

#i have an acc fic on them in the works rn and im brainrotting so hard on it #tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere getou suguru #yandere getou #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satosugu #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere jujustu kaisen

3K notes · View notes

imaginesforeons · 4 months

Note

Hii since requests are open May I ask if you could write something for yan! Nanami with very scared reader who's just straight up terrified of him and the situation they're in they always hide when they hear him come home shake and shiver whenever he touches then and even vomit from all that stress and fear? If no that's completely okay and feel free to ignore this, thanks a bunch and have a great night/day I love your writing!<33

Sure!! I wrote this, hope it's ok! Also, I will get to the other requests as well, but I had eye surgery a few days ago so it's slow-going. Don't worry though, no-one will be forgotten.

Yandere!Nanami x TouchAvoidant!Reader

~Nanami comes home. You aren't happy~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced contact but nothing NSFW.

WC: 934

REQS are open. At the top of my page you can see who/what I write for. The more specific your requests the better! :)

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

The room that he put you in when he had to leave could only be described as scared to impose. Soft cream walls stared at you from every angle, and an impossibly plush carpet rested beneath your socked feet. Baby blues and minty greens made up the few colors, and they were things like pillows and blankets all of impossible quality. Minky couture and goose down pillows had become your new normal, strewn across the ground and whatever sparse furniture there was, yet nothing else decorated the space. There were no lamps, no paintings, no furniture that wasn’t carefully and thoroughly bolted down; nothing could be used as a weapon. Even the window was welded shut, made of polycarbonate that was impossible to break. You would know, as you’d tried multiple times.

It was a room carefully constructed, a room not meant to impose on the delicate sensibilities of the one in it. It held the same air as a therapist’s office. Or a padded cell.

You shifted, sinking deeper into your chair. Idly you thumbed through your book, but nothing in it caught your interest. You had finished reading it hours ago, but you were too shy to ask him for another, and instead simply left your finished reads on his table to show that you were done. The light shining through your window was turning a burnished gold. It was getting late, which meant soon he would be home. You felt a churning in your stomach at the thought, and gripped your book tighter in your hands, listening to the pages crinkle.

You jumped when you heard the rumble of a car’s engine pull into the drive, then the damning sound of a door opening and closing. Forgotten, the book fell from your hands, hitting the floor. You grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and held it to your chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between you and what was coming.

All too soon, he was there. From across the room you locked eyes, yet before you could say anything he started moving towards you. Your muscles jumped, and it took all you had not to run. It wouldn’t work, you’d already tried.

“How was your day?” Nanami asked as he loosened his tie.

“Fine,” you murmured, casting your eyes down and staring at his feet. When a hand touched your shoulder, you winced, jerking back into the chair as if you tried hard enough you’d bury yourself into it and disappear.

Above you, Nanami sighed. Slowly, he knelt before you, placing himself between your legs and staring up at you in a way that made your skin itch. A large hand wrapped around your calf, unyielding. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it would be impossible to break out of his hold.

“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. A calloused thumb stroked over the skin of your leg.

You shifted restlessly. “I know.” When his other hand wrapped around your calf, it took all you had not to scream. To anyone else it probably would have felt nice, witht the way he had started to massage it, but it was all you could do to hold in a scream. Instead you brought your legs in, folding them criss-cross beneath your body.

“Most people would love a massage after a long day,” Nanami said.

“Most people aren’t kidnappers,” you snapped back.

Nanami hummed. “I suppose our circumstances are unique.” And then he ran his knuckles across your cheek.

Your skin went electric and you flinched, flailing and trying to jump from the chair. Before you could touch the carpet, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You froze, and your expression could have been enough to bring any onlookers to tears. The arms shifted, lifting you, squeezing you to his chest.

“Please, Nanami,” you whispered. “Please let me go.”

“Shh,” the man murmured, pressing a kiss against your brow. To you, it felt like a brand.

“Let me go,” you pleaded.

You started to struggle, and though you knew it was a fruitless action, there was nothing left for you to do. Twisting, you writhed in his arms like a snake, but it only made things worse. He held you closer to him, enough that you could feel it when he breathed, and when your shirt rode up your torso from struggling, his large, calloused hand found its way to your naked skin, fingers trailing across it. He made his way to the bed, sitting on its edge with you still in his hold.

“Stop it!” you shouted, pounding your fists against his chest. “I said stop!”

“Listen to me,” Nanami said. He was raising his voice, not out of anger, but in an effort to make himself heard. He wrapped one arm around your torso, holding your arms down, while the other went to your face, turning you to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, dear. The only reason I do this is out of my love for you. Can’t you see that?”

“This isn’t love,” you snarled, angry tears building in your eyes. “You’re delusional!”

“Shh,” Nanami crooned. He pressed his lips to your temple. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to stay here until you calm down. One day you’ll understand.”

You kicked uselessly at him, but it only made Nanami hook a leg over yours, pinning you. You sniffled, and felt the first tears coursing down your face. Nanami only held you closer, and started rocking back and forth, a motion that would have been soothing in any other context.

#jjk imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere nanami x reader #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader

659 notes · View notes

emotionalmessss · 11 months

Note

Me again hehe ok so what if Sukuna had a frail s/o that bruises really easily like he could flick her arm and an hour later boom purple spot

A/N: ahhh. I know sukuna is like the opposite of nice/gentle, but I'm going to be taking a different approach with this. I tried to answer the best I could, I swear my brain likes to run with things and spew out random shit.

Warnings: slight violence, teasing, unhealthy relationships, soft-ish sukuna?

it was hard for sukuna to come to terms that he actually liked you. he noticed he was paying a little too much attention to you. nothing particularly peaked his interest much like you did. the thought of having feelings for something other than himself bothered him immensely. fruitlessly, he tried to suppress these emotions.

in his mind, he thought that if he ignored them, they'd eventually go away. so he resorted to his usual tactics; teasing, taunting, and humiliating you.

this succeeded in very little. he found himself even more enamoured by you. he loved watching you and never seemed to leave your side.

you'd grown accustom to his little games and stopped feeding into it. you knew he enjoyed your reactions and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

this annoyed him. although, he thoroughly enjoyed watching you unconsciously fight with your inner self. your face twisting up in a grimace, blush creeping in on your cheeks, and fists clenching at your sides.

his advancements were becoming intense. you couldn’t have more than a few hours to yourself without him intruding. it was strange. you couldn’t place why he was so interested in you and you tried to ignore it. it wasn’t an easy task. besides his taunting words and sadistic humour, he started being physical. he would stand closer to you than normal, hovering over you in a manner that screamed dominance.

sukuna found himself watching you more and more - his interest peaking to a borderline obsession. if he couldn’t ignore these feelings, he’d just have to embrace them. no one was allowed to harm you, except him, of course. you were his. his to torment. his to enjoy.

he noticed you were fragile, like a fucking child. If he grabbed with even just an ounce of his normal strength, your skin reddened. normally he'd feed off this new finding, but something else dwelled in his stomach. he wanted you all to himself. the desire to hurt you shifted into the need to have you.

a thick hand caught your wrist, instinctively causing your body to react and jerk backwards. your mask slipped from your face as you felt his grip tighten. the desire to flee was overwhelming, so much so that you'd combust if you stood still.

sukuna merely glanced down his nose at you, tightening his hold as you moved to step back. oh, no. you're not going anywhere. the need to have you close amplified and he tugged you closer, earning a hiss of response.

his eyes flicked to your wrist, noticing your pale skin darkening to a purple bruise. he couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face. his brows twitching as his eyes narrowed.

"such a fragile thing, aren't you?" his expression hardened again, but the softness of his voice couldn't be hidden.

he knew humans were fragile - there was no doubt in his mind about that. but he didn't expect this. he usually felt pleasure in causing pain towards others, but you were different. seeing all the cuts and bruises that littered your arms and legs made him unsettled.

he did his best to hide it, but you were smart. the way his expression shifted into slight concern before reverting to boredom, never went unnoticed.

his approach shifted, and you noticed it. sukuna refrained from using excessive force on you and instead, opted to softer gestures.

"hurt yourself again, brat?" you looked up at him, crossed legged at the bottom of his shrine.

"no." you stubbornly answered, flicking at your nails.

"hm." he shifted on his makeshift throne, glaring down at you with a bored expression.

he was crouching in front of you now, taking you by surprise and making you flinch back. his hand enveloped yours as he studied the fading bruise on your wrist.

"doesn't look that way to me." he muttered, focusing his attention on your arm.

sukuna’s usual lack of interest in anything changed. in your first meeting, he barely gave you a second glance. you weren’t important to him. he could care less about you. but now, his eyes lingered over you. he’d quickly check over your body when he thought you wouldn’t notice. at first, you couldn’t place why he was doing this. was it to make you uncomfortable? no. he was checking for any indications that you might be hurt.

1K notes · View notes

noroi1000 · 1 year

Note

Yo, hear me out! Yandere Gojo and Geto x reader. Please make this happens, I love yanderes.

Where have you been?

Summary: Shoko asked you to come to her. You were in a hurry, and you forgot to let your boyfriends know. And they are obsessed with you. They are overprotective and also terribly jealous. You're supposed to spend time with them. Words: 2k

Warnings: yandere

You've had a hard day.

And it was all going to get even worse.

You knew exactly about the great jealousy of your boyfriends.

You were surprised that they somehow tolerated you being with them.

Since they were so jealous of everything.

These two were able to take your hands off your neighbors nice cat.

Because your hands can only stroke them. Only their bodies.

You've known them for a long time, and you didn't mind that it was. They love you. And you love them both. The fact that they are jealous and possessive shows that they care about you and are interested in what you do.

Even though they exaggerate sometimes...

Possessive, obsessed with your safety and where you go. Jealousy and other possessive and obsessive behaviors.

You still love them. You don't mind because it makes them both happy.

This makes them both provide you with love and happiness.

They're normal, loving guys until someone picks you up or you suddenly run away and they don't know where you've been.

That was right now.

You didn't mind that they told you to inform them every time you went somewhere.

Well, that makes sense. Because once you didn't tell them, they were standing outside the door waiting for you to come back because none of them took the keys to the house.

They have made your life pleasant and full of love.

It's not surprising that you've been in a long relationship with them already.

Compared to people who have normal relationships, yours is different. And not just because there are three people in your relationship.

When you came up with descriptions of "dere" people. And you've noticed that your boys display everything a "Yandere" person shows.

You liked anime so you didn't find it strange that you really saw it in them.

And it was true. That description perfectly described what they are.

Maybe people may have thought your relationship was toxic.

There was no betrayal or anything.

Their love was just obsessive.

But you weren't afraid. Because they love you. You didn't see anything wrong with it.

It was a sign that they love you so much.

That's why you knew you had to face their questions: where were you, why didn't you tell them?

Or what is always: who were you with?

They are jealous that you can spend time with someone else, and that someone can come much closer to you than they should. Especially a man.

You don't find their possessiveness toxic.

They care about you.

Sometimes a little too much.

And you want them to be happy.

Because the way they act sometimes can be scary.

Even if it looks like that, they won't hurt you. They might be pissed off or ask you about everything. Even if most have nothing to do with all of this.

You left the house today without a plan.

You don't work because they said you shouldn't work.

For them, you're supposed to sit at home and don't think about doing anything. You just need to be there with them.

You can't argue with them if what they say is better for you than what you say.

For example, if one of them tells you not to go to a very stressful place, when you say you have to go, they will tell you what is better for you.

It's as if they have some instinct telling them something is wrong.

They once told you that sometimes when you weren't home, they had a bad feeling.

Like when Shoko offered you drinks without telling you how much alcohol was in it, and you almost fell over on the way home, even though you weren't that drunk.

Or when they saw that you weren't feeling too well and then went shopping, they had a feeling that something might happen. That you'll pass out or feel bad enough to go to the hospital.

Even if it wasn't anything serious. It might have been a cold, but they were worried anyway.

Their jealousy and the whole "yandere" behavior stemmed mainly from their overprotectiveness.

And the fact that they could care for you and be your boyfriends turned into possessiveness that crosses borders already so much.

You are not afraid of them, even though they are so powerful. They would never hurt you.

They just want to keep you for them.

There's no way they're going to hurt you.

They will only give you all their love if you are completely theirs.

You've heard them say that you "belong to them" more than once.

Honestly, you don't feel bad in those words.

However, you were ready for all these questions from them, and again this possessive behavior when you were about to enter the house.

Shoko called you to come see her.

You thought something bad had happened. That's why you ran out of the house, even forgetting your phone to reach her.

Thus, you forgot to inform them.

When they saw you weren't home, they didn't know if they were pissed or disappointed.

Their only thought is to bring you back home as soon as possible.

They even thought you might have run away from them.

And that would be a blow to their heart.

Not just because you ran away from them. But also because they would have to drag you home and keep you there.

They wouldn't mind locking you in the house to come home from work every day and see you there. And you won't come out.

But for your sake, they wanted you to live with them voluntarily.

That's why they were happy when you said you loved them. And you showed it to them.

It was just great for them.

Say you're theirs and be with you every day. And you tell them straight out that you love them.

While you were away, they were paranoid.

They started imagining something.

Well, you were with Shoko.

She was going through something like a one-day existential crisis.

She was overworked, she was drunk and she was smoking her third pack of cigarettes when you came to her house.

She laughed, then spoke normally, then sounded like she was about to fall asleep.

Back then, her house wasn't a dream place to sleep.

The rooms were filled with cigarette smoke, the smell of which burned the nose so strongly that anyone who entered there could wince.

Shoko never smoked light cigarettes...

In order not to watch what she does with herself instead of sleeping, you did everything to make her relax and fall asleep.

Probably today was the day she wanted to get drunk, lie on the couch drunk and smoke cigarettes. Then go to work like a zombie.

You opened the windows in her house to get rid of the excess smoke. Even if the smell of cigarettes was still in the room, you at least wanted fresh air.

The smell of smoke is difficult to remove. That's why every time Suguru wants to smoke, you tell him to go to the balcony or outside.

You don't want your freshly laundered clothes to smell good. Even if one of your boyfriends doesn't smoke often. Because he's not addicted to it.

Not like Shoko has been for a while. When she quit smoking, it was different. And now she's back to it because she has fond memories of her smoking days.

You opened the windows of her house, gave her a lot of water and took the alcohol from her. And then you washed her face and neck with a damp washcloth until you finally took her to bed to let her go to sleep.

Then you started walking home. But you noticed that it was already late. Evening.

You knew you had to come home quickly.

Because you've already been in trouble.

You've been waiting for a long time in which you'll have to calm them down.

And when you pulled the handle to open the door, everything was open.

Which meant Satoru and Suguru were already home.

You sighed, knowing that the calm aura of the house was about to turn into something darker.

And to make it look better, you decided to call them.

"Satoru? Suguru?"

You looked around to see that the only light in the house was the one coming from the window that showed the sunset.

"Where have you been?"

You heard a voice and quickly turned around.

You saw Suguru standing next to the stairs from which Satoru was just coming down.

There was a can of soda in his hand, and he looked like he just got out of the shower. Hair loose and combed, clean clothes.

Satoru slumped against the stair railing, staring out the window.

They both weren't looking at you. They weren't smiling.

Suguru's hand went up, hooking his fingers on the sunbeams falling inside. Causing his fingers to be lit and the rest of his hand not.

"Did you have fun without us?" he asked, knowing the sun was going down. "It's sunset, you know? You haven't given us any message."

"Suguru, I'm sorry, I was rushing to see Shoko. I forgot my phone. And she called me so urgently. I thought something happened to her."

"Couldn't you text us before you left?" Satoru asked suddenly. Looking at you with cold blue eyes.

"I'm sorry... If I wasn't in a hurry, I'd definitely do it..." You said quietly, and walked over to Suguru, wanting to hug him. But you didn't know if he would let you..

Against all odds, he set his drink down the stairs behind him, and placed his hands on your shoulders.

Which meant you could hug him.

"I understand that could be the case. Besides, Shoko wrote to me that you will be staying with her. However, we believe you more than anyone else." he said hugging you tight. Enough to make you feel a little overwhelmed. It was still a nice hug though. "Satoru is less calm. Because he only found out about it an hour ago when he came home."

"Satoru." You muttered with your cheek pressed against Suguru's chest.

"I thought you ran away." He said with his arms folded across his chest. "Looking for you wouldn't be so much trouble... However, how would you feel if I took you back home by force?"

You looked at the floor.

You really shouldn't upset them.

"Here is your place. With us. And unfortunately, you can't leave whenever you like."

"You are ours. You will not belong to anyone else. Only us."

You smiled slightly at Satoru to see how his face changed.

And he, seeing your smile, came closer with a relaxed face.

You don't mind how they behave. Just do not.

His hands cupped your body, hugging you from behind. They held you gently but possessively. Showing you that they care about you. That they love you.

You may even be afraid of it when they are like this. However, your one smile is enough to calm them down.

They won't let you go. But your one smile, and they don't need to worry.

Because when you smile, it means you're happy.

Their faces were on your arms.

Their lips pressed against your neck on either side.

Even though they were hugging you, you felt their bodies pressing against you. Their warmth.

You only flinched as their teeth bit into your neck.

And you only heard two sounds in your ears. Two voices whispering to your heart.

"You belong to us... And it always will be like this... We're not mad at you, but how about we lock you up here with us now. That you can't go out. And for the next few hours, you won't be able to move away from us."

#gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk x you #gojou satoru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #yandere geto x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader

1K notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 2 months

Text

TW: yandere, classism, degradation, possessiveness, obsessiveness, blackmail

gn reader - feminine clothing (jewelry: earrings, necklace)

Thinking about your rich boyfriend…

Rich boyfriend – who buys you clothes and jewelry every time you have a date, even when you tell him you feel bad receiving them all – that you have nowhere to wear such nice things – that a simple date is really more than enough.

Rich boyfriend – who ignores you with a smile and shake of his head, asking you how you expect him to stop when you’re just the absolute cutest? Looking at him with those moon-big eyes, humble crinkle between your brows, and your lip tucked nervously between your teeth to keep from gawking.

Rich boyfriend – who orders for you at all the restaurants he takes you to because he knows you’ve never been anywhere like it. Looking so adorably lost in your seat, flushed when staring at the menu written in a language you can’t read – knowing even if you could, you still wouldn't know what any of it meant. You’re so, so, so precious – eyes peeled like you’re a pet who’s just been allowed at the table for the first time.

Rich boyfriend – who plays four instruments, speaks five languages, went to an Ivy League institution, and will inherit his entire family’s business being the spoiled only child that he is.

Rich boyfriend – who just loves the messy household you grew up in – loves how you and your siblings interact with each other, looking like a bundle of pups all crammed in the same cage at a pet store – how your childhood bedroom is the size of his closet – filled with all sorts of trinkets you’ve kept growing up – stuff that would usually wind up in the trash at his house – polaroids of you as a teenager, past boyfriends in kissing booths, prom pictures, concert tickets, and old rusty friendship lockets.

It’s all so… He scoffs. The word for it escapes him.

Suppose he doesn’t quite recognize the pricelessness of sentimental value as opposed to something actually sellable – but he finds it cute that you do.

Though, it bothers him to some degree as well… that you would value an old pair of earrings gifted you by your grandmother instead of the actual antique diamond pair he’d procured for you. After all, one was a real historic piece worth a fortune a Russian duchess had snuck into England during the war, and the other was old junk made by a noname jeweler.

Rich boyfriend – who chokes on his spit when you sit him down and tell him you want to break up – who thinks he’s misheard – that you’re joking, playing some uncultured game he’s never been exposed to, some ill-taste past-time only poor people do to escape their bitter reality.

But you’re not joking…

You’re breaking up with him…You.. You… broke trash of worker-class scum… you’re breaking up with him?

You give him back all his gifts in a cardboard box – telling him you’re grateful but that you truly don’t have any use for such things – that you think your worlds are too different to coincide.

Of course, you refrain from telling him you think he’s a classist snob. You have a feeling it would have gone completely over his head if you’d tried anyway, so there really was no point to it.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who’s never been told no in his entire life…

Rich ex-boyfriend – who buys your street and plans on scrapping it to make brand new mansions in a project he dubs “cleaning up the slums” – evicting and putting you and your entire family out of the home you’d spent your entire life growing up in.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who thinks you’re crawling back to him when you schedule an appointment at his office – who thinks you’re going to come in with bleary wet eyes and grovel like the lowly peasant you are – let him save you from poverty and homelessness, make you his charity case – his pretty diamond in the rough who’s never quite able to wash all the coal off.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who trashes that same office when you leave after having given him the address to the pawnshop you sold the one pearl necklace you’d kept as a token of your relationship – telling him he should feel free to go down there and get it back – that you’re using the money to buy a better house and you just wanted to come and thank him for that.

Of course, you wanted to slap him too – spit on his tie or maybe just take a piss on his desk – but you left it at that.

Rich ex-boyfriend – whose next move is to buy your family business, who hires a private eye to dig up dirt on you and all your family, burying you in fines from age-old petty crimes, gets you kicked from your scholarship.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who goes to that pawnshop and reports the pearl necklace as a stolen item and has the police arrest you. Spinning a story about how he thought you were this humble sweet thing, only for you to rob him behind his back.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who comes to visit you in the custody suite where you sit cooped up with all the other wretched mutts on the cold concrete floors – scolding you for making him come down to a dirty police precinct, for having him breathe the same air as all the lowlives held up there.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who tells you he’ll make it all go away.

He’ll drop the charges, let your family keep their house – or buy them an even better one, whichever you prefer – he’ll even promote your family business and pay for all your siblings' education – he’ll give you everything.

Anything you want, it’s yours.

But he owns you.

BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo, Rin

HxH – Illumi

4K notes · View notes

suguru-getos · 1 month

Note

Not sure if your requests are open or not, but if they are would you pretty please write a yandere Gojo who's darling is upset because he left her alone on her birthday to go "play" with his new best friend Geto instead? Like, he legit forgot it was anyone's birthday at all? But his darling tries to be sweet and understanding even though she's deeply hurt by him suddenly neglectjbg her so much? Pretty please and thank you. 😘🙏

Heyy!! I don’t take requests but I really like this prompt. Thanks for sending 🙇🏻‍♀️🩵 to be very honest Yandere Gojo would never forget his darling’s birthday. :DD Even normal Toru chan wouldn’t. ;))

Warnings: Toxic Toru :(( // Reader doesn’t really love love him but is in a major Stockholm Syndrome typa-thang. Forced fluff, implied sexual thingys.

You sighed, it’s been long past twelve and out of all the people who have wished you yet, Satoru isn’t one of them. It hurts because he could have gotten super mad and punished you for forgetting his birthday. Coming up with excuses thar you forgot the one person’s special day who should be meaning the most to you. A shiver runs through your spine to imagine the extent of his rage if that were to happen. Is it because you’re powerless compared to him? Is that why he doesn’t care about you? Why else would he go around Geto Suguru and not you.

Satoru comes back around 2 am, a little tipsy but you know he’s a lightweight so he must’ve not drunk much. He watches your tired eyes draping his form and raises a brow. “Aww, how cute? My Princess stayed up for me? You wanted to sleep with me that bad sweetheart?” Your lip quivered at his familiar, patronizing tone. It was your birthday. Your birthday! God damn it!

You looked down, trying to form the right words. “Toru, s’ my birthday today. I waited for your wish.”

It’s like he’s been anchored by the feet at rock bottom sea. He can’t breathe — surely he must not — oh fuck! He did. He forgot his sweet princess’ birthday… shit! “Oh- oh no- I’m so sorry! Oh no-” his beefy arms are quick to wrap around you, hugging you snug against his chest. “Please baby, m’ sorry. You never make a biggie out of it so I forgot.” He pouted, kissing your forehead and stealing apologetic kisses. You gnaw at your lip and looked down. “It’s okay, Toru.” Oh he knows it’s not okay.

Part of him dreads that you’d leave him & he doesn’t want to, but he’s close to acting out. “Are you going to leave me because of it, Cupcake?” He asks tenderly, though you know better & you’ve learnt better. “N-no! Of course not Toru. I’d never leave you.” You shake your head no like a trained bobblehead. Satoru takes a sigh, six-eyes trying to find out any hidden intents behind your words.

He sighed with defeat, “Pretty girl, I know, that was so careless and bad of me. Really bad. Let me make it up to you? I’d let you meet your friends!” He chirped. To live under Gojo Satoru means to live under his wing & his wing alone. He couldn’t care less if you’re lonely. All the more reason to ensure that your world revolves around him, no?

“Come here.” He craddles you against his lap, kissing your knuckles, your chin, your forehead, leaning in and kissing your clothed breasts. With Satoru, you’d never know how things might turn sexual. You do resist this time though, you don’t have the emotional capacity to endure this & be treated like a toy.

“I’m sorry Toru, can’t.” You leaned away with a subtle flinch. His brows furrow at the rejection but he knows he’s fucked up. “Alright Baby girl. I wouldn’t. Ssh~ let me make it up.” His phone comes out & he orders a cake — of course he would know your favorite flavor by now. He grins wide. “Thank god it’s still night ~ Tomorrow, I’m going to make sure you forget my fuck up! I promise!” He sounds so determined it helps you to feel less shitty. However the neglect still seeps through. Maybe because you’ve been living with him that he’s taking you for granted.

A snap of fingers shoves your trail of thoughts astray. “Ssh~ eyes here, mind here.” Satoru cooes, cupping your face and leaning his forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right? To the point of insanity.” It’s when he starts to get serious that makes you uncomfortable. You squirm a little at his words, nodding meekly.

“Then stop thinking wild thoughts or Toru has to be mean to your meanie thoughts & you wouldn’t like it.” He says it in such a delirious baby-talking way it makes you choke out on any thoughts whatsoever anyway. “Y-yeah..”

You know Satoru will make a big deal out of your birthday tomorrow. Might as well enjoy, even if it’s forced.

#gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #jjk comfort #gojo angst #gojo comfort

325 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

smokelaceddecisions

Queen B👑

tsty-brry

sphinx of black quartz

olibensstuff

💥💥bam pow pheooow🤯

jake-inlove

Jake Inlove

tenmillionmice

catboy supreme