#A smidge of yandere in here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kakujis · 10 months ago

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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back.

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you.

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad.

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him.

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.”

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest.

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility.

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!”

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right?

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction.

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root.

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually.

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t.

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door.

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights.

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles.

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening.

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know.

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart.

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.”

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that.

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow.

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face.

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away.

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you.

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind.

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely.

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass.

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin.

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely.

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs.

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy.

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet.

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying.

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks.

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours.

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair.

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him.

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it.

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling.

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still.

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home?

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?”

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea.

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up.

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.”

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way.

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet.

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?”

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again.

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.”

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in.

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.”

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets.

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage.

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night.

but that’s not-

it is. check your phone.

oh, i guess it… is?

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day.

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going.

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time.

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out.

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again.

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength.

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember.

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine.

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him.

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you.

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans.

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up.

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code.

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end.

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy.

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off.

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands.

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?”

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze.

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.”

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?”

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love.

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.”

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.”

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?”

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again.

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far.

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?”

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs.

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.”

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.”

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.”

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock.

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too.

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?”

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek.

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.”

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time.

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.”

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.”

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #cw yandere #cw cheating #cw dubcon #pibby writing

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mayullla · 9 months ago

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Title: You didn't know what to do.

Character(s): Neuvillette (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Neuvillette asked you to go on a date with him on Valentine's day. Warnings/tags: Yandere, obsessive behavior, arranged marriage setting, one-sided love, unrequited love, unrequited pining, possessive behavior, angsty, 1.4k words

A continuation for: 1. There is no love here. 2. But he didn't want to let go.

It was something that was going to happen at one point as he walked through the streets and saw decorations with pink and red heart designs. With Valentine's just around the corner, there were advertisements for it everywhere. From delicious chocolates and fancy restaurants to lists of what you should get for your picky partner posters.

Neuvillette didn't care much about the event in the past, and you didn't care much for it either. The day was too busy most of the time to go out and actually have time for yourselves. It called for too much attention compared to if you were to go out together on other days. It wasn’t like there were any rumors that you and his relationship were having problems to fix. If anything, a lot of people use the two of you as a reference for a loving relationship.

Neuvillette changed after the day when he cried on your hand, begging you to love him. He became sensitive to everything humans and others do. He observed human closeness and open affection, wondering if he could have the same. Not necessarily in public, as he was not keen on kissing so violently in public, yet he envied the love between them, the affection openly held in their eyes as if in this world there was no one else but them. After all, he knew that the affection you held in your eyes was never the kind of love they had between themselves.

Yet he wanted that. He wanted it so much. He wanted you to look at him with those eyes, not only in front of others but also when you were alone in the house, just the two of you.

He wanted it so much that it was hard to concentrate on anything.

Are you free on February 14th?" Neuvillette asked as the two of you walked together in the park, your arm around his while he held your hand. People glanced at you and him, but most made sure not to stare too long, yet you could see that they were curious.

"Hmmm? I think so... I don't have any plans then. Why do you ask?"

"I reserved a table at the restaurant. I was hoping that you would join me." The fancy name of the restaurant made your eyes widen a little. While it was a restaurant you would sometimes go to, it wasn't really a place where you could just waltz in and hope to find a seat without a reservation. Most of the time, you need to book a month beforehand. On a day like Valentine's, though, it would be practically impossible, even if you did try to book six months before.

You were curious as to why he would go so far, yet when his hand held your tongue, his eyes with a smidge of panic, you just froze instead of nodding your head, telling him that you would go. You smiled at him, "Yes, I would love to go."

The next day, he gifted you an expensive dress and accessories, hoping that you would wear them that day. After that incident, he started to gift you more presents, material stuff that he picked himself while receiving the help of others. As you stared at the present that you were given by a Melusine, cheerfully telling you that it was from your husband, you didn't have the will to stop Neuvillette when so many times he looked at you so fearfully that you might decline his gifts.

It wasn't like in the past, back when you were newlyweds, when he wasn't sure how to care for a wife, and he bought everything that you touched. Yet at the same time, the gifts now felt more like a desperate plea not to leave him.

You had made sure to stay with him. After that day, Neuvillette moved your sleeping quarters to his. His tight hold around your waist as you moved your arms around his head and neck, whispering in his ear and combing through his hair. It seemed that he would become frightened if you didn’t, ridden with anxiety until you reassured him of your promise to never leave him.

You weren't sure what to do when your husband was so sensitive to anything related to you. You were startled by this change after hundreds of years of having a quiet and peaceful relationship. You could not help but wonder if this was the same person you first met a long time ago. You could not help but wonder if the person who sat in the middle of the courtroom was the same man who was obsessive and possessive in the privacy of your own home.

The Melusines didn't understand what was wrong. They commented that your relationship with Neuvillette was closer, while those who saw something dark in Neuvillette's heart chalked it up to him just having a bad day. Most were still learning about human emotions, and many wouldn't understand the mania inside the obsession. If anything, they thought he was stressed and needed to be with his wife when they saw the darkness inside fading just a little. They thought you were the key, if anything, to calm their father.

You looked at the collar brooch that you had commissioned: a blue teardrop with little orange and dark blue stones held by a gold frame. It was something that you were given by a Melusine on one of your walks. She told you that she found a beautiful rock and wanted to give it to you and Neuvillette. You had kept it for a long time along with the many gifts you were given by them in a box, finally taking it out when you found a way to make it into jewelry. Closing the case of the box, you took it with you, placing it in your bag to keep it hidden.

You are here… Are you ready?" Neuvillette asked, raising his arm to offer you his shoulder to hold onto. "Yes, I am," you told him, wearing the dress that he had given you. It was more expensive than what you usually wore. You weren't an extravagant spender, but you did have many clothes that a lot of people would dream of having. Heading to the restaurant, you kept your eyes in front of you, unable to look at him.

You knew he was looking at you…

“You look beautiful today…” Neuvillette whispered loud enough for you to hear. It was as if all the air left his lungs and he could barely say those words with what was left. “Thank you. You look handsome yourself.”

The question of why again circled in your mind as you wondered how this happened. Under his lovestruck eyes, you felt no more than a heavy burden.

You were confused... you didn't know how to handle the situation just yet when everything hit you all at once. You hesitated when you saw the hopefulness in his eyes whenever he looked at you or the envy and want as he looked at other couples. Yet the pain continued to hurt as he held onto you so tightly.

"I have a present for you," you told him in a soft voice. In the restaurant full of people, he chose a room for privacy. You pulled out a box from your bag and placed it on the table for him to reach. "Here, I hope you like it."

Thank you. May I open it now?" Taking the box, you saw the curiosity in his eyes, the hopeful look that you started to see so often now, but also a touch of affection. You let him, motioning that he was allowed to do so. You watched his eyes widen at the gift, slowly turning affectionate, and a slow smile spread across his lips.

The slight blush on his pale cheeks as he touched the stone with his hand made you think that it was okay, that he was actually fine and that this was going to be alright. His innocent expression as he looked at his gift in silence was something you were familiar with for a long time now, yet that was all taken away the moment he looked at you. The blush on his face darkened when he looked at you, and his eyes were dyed with love and obsession.

You couldn't move for a moment, unable to pull your eyes away from him. He looked happy. He looked for a moment content, yet at the same time, you realized that there was nothing more than this as the two of you would continue to spiral down to the depths of the ocean, drowning in want and love.

"Thank you."

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beneathashadytree · 8 months ago

Text

HUSBAND!NANAMI TEXTS

Warnings : slightly suggestive at first, big font cause i’m blind, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : mild crack, little smidge of hurt/comfort, fluff <33

Additional notes : I’ve had non-stop exams for the past like month or two, so here’s a little something cause I miss my man 💔

Tip jar!

Masterlist

Taglist : @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @sherlockscumslut @the-foreigner @thispersoniscrazy @em-3456 @angry-and-yandere

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bella-goths-wife · 2 months ago

Note

HERE ME OUTTT…

Platonic yandere bowers gang.

The reader is a freshman, shes just a clueless 14 year old who needs someone to guide her, why not that be the bowers gang?

Platonic yandere bowers gang x freshman reader

You weren’t particularly bad kid

Sure, you mouthed off to teachers and smoked behind the bleachers on rough days

But you also kept up with your studies and got pretty good grades

So you weren’t a bad kid, certainly not bad enough to avoid snide comments or harassment

Certainly not bad enough to catch the eyes of anyone important, or at least you thought anyway

You had met belch first

After a particularly cruel day caused by your classmates constant teasing and bullying, you had decided to hide out behind the bleachers for a quick smoke and to reevaluate your life choices

But instead of the usual quietness, you heard frustrated mumblings and the sounds of crunched up papers

You peaked your head around and saw an extremely frustrated belch sat on the ground with papers scrunched up in his hands as he attempted to solve whatever was on the paper

You had planned to just turn around and pretend you saw nothing, but fate had another plan for you as belch coincidentally looked to his left and made eye contact with you

Belch stiffened and began to plan out how to best beat you into forgetting what you saw, but before he could even rise up from the ground you spoke

“Do you want some help?” You had asked quite calmly considering the situation, and belch had noticed there was not one smidge of mockery or pity in your tone

He would have almost called your tone kind if it weren’t for your monotone delivery

Belch was stunned into a paralysed state as you calmly sat yourself next to him and read over the math problems he had been attempting

Half an hour later you had helped him complete the sheet, practically finishing it all by yourself at that point

Belch was about to threaten you into silence but you just stood up and walked away, not intimidated by him in the slightest

You, a lowly freshman, was not intimidated by him, one of the biggest and scariest people in school

Belch was so taken aback that he immediately reported his findings to Henry, who let a plot grow in his head

While the bowers gang had a few very intelligent members, they were all failing extraordinarily

All of their grades were written with a ‘do better’ message and delivered with a sigh from their teachers

So an idea popped into Henry’s head

Why should they do all of their work when they can just get someone else to do it for them

And now he knows about this genius freshman from belch, well it was almost fate in Henry’s eyes

He rounded up the boys and stalked you throughout your day at school to find a chance to corner you

They watched as you sat through your first lessons with a bored expression and they also watched as you completed the class work in less than ten minutes before just staring out the window for the rest of the time

They watched as you got relentlessly picked on by your peers and they watched as you finally grew tired enough of it to get up and leave the classroom, deciding to just skip considering you already knew what was being taught

They couldn’t help but he slightly fascinated with how you carried yourself

You were a genius, that was very much clear

But you almost seemed like you were reluctant with your intelligence, like the mere fact that you existed bored and exhausted you

Henry in his own brand of narcissism, couldn’t help but think he was the same

He was not, he was intelligent but he could never fully match up to you

But he projected the idea that you were exactly like him, that you two were two peas in a pod

Two geniuses surrounded by idiots

He finally thought he had found an equal

It was then that he decided that instead of just intimidating you into doing what they wanted, he’d make you a deal

And that’s what he did as he and his boys cornered you behind the bleachers

He made you an offer, you complete all their work and get them good grades and they’d allow you to sit with them at lunch and would keep your tormentors away

You were reluctant to accept this offer considering you understood that the boys in front of you were not good people and it was likely you wouldn’t be treated well during this agreement but you were just so tired of being picked on that you agreed anyway

So the deal was made and from that day forward you’d sit with them at lunch and would complete their work for them during the periods that you skipped, most of the time one of them joined you

Most of the group didn’t understand why Henry had extended this offer to you in the first place, didn’t understand his weird fascination with you

They all began to understand individually with time

Patrick began his obsession when he realised that he could make being in your presence a game

Patrick is a sociopath, there’s no sugar coating it because it’s just the truth

And Patrick loves to torment, he likes to manipulative and he likes to cause pain to his chosen target

And it’s only after a few times he tries to target you that he realises that you don’t succumb as easily as other people

Any words he spewed, any plots he cooked up and any sickly sweet manipulative tactics he tried to use, you would most of the time simply see through it

This made whenever Patrick finally did break you down all the more satisfying

It became a somewhat game of cat and mouse to him as he attempted to find the best ways to hurt you

But Patrick also quickly noticed he despises when someone other than him and the others tried the same methods to hurt you, that’s why he scared off all of your tormentors and bullies

He wants to be your biggest and only bully

And he wants the satisfaction of finally overcoming your intelligence and breaking you more than anything

Victor was the next one to become obsessed with you

Victor was the verbal punching bag of the group, or he thought he was considering how he denies ever acknowledging his cruelty towards belch

But with you, he finally had someone who was below him

In his eyes no matter how smart you were, your still younger than him and you clearly need guidance in how to survive in highschool

He could sweetly (meanly and roughly) condescend you and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it because you were the bottom of the food chain

You validated his want to be needed, to know better and be better than someone

He purposely ignores the fact that intelligence wise and probably in most ways your better than him

He doesn’t care as long as he can keep treating you like a clueless little lamb who wandered into the den of wolves

Belch was quickly taken with you considering he always struggled with his intelligence and you had helped him that afternoon in a calmer manner than any teacher had

But he also enjoyed that your not scared of him despite that fact you definitely should be

You spoke to him without mockery but you also didn’t mince your words, you explained things without sugar coating his failures but you also didn’t rub his loses in his face

The other question why he has you teach him instead of just having you do his work, but you help him learn and overcome his insecurities that he’s had about his intelligence for years now

Maybe that’s why he’s so protective of you, maybe that’s why he begin to view you as a sister figure

Belch doesn’t care to expand his thoughts on that subject beyond the fact that he knows it’ll be hard to ever let go of you now

Henry and you have a weird dynamic

In some ways Henry views you as somewhat of an equal, in others he views you as the bottom of the food chain considering you can hardly defend yourself

His fascination brews from the need to be what you are, he’s always wanted to be the smartest in the room and his inherent narcissism had deluded him into believing that’s true

And now he has you, someone who actually is the smartest person in the room

Sometimes deep down Henry can’t tell if he’s obsessive with you because he wants to have an equal or if he just secretly wants what you have

He also enjoys that your unafraid of speaking the truth to him

You don’t sugarcoat your words when talking to him, which is a risky move on your part but it seems to work for you for now

You’ll openly disagree with his decisions if you believe they’re wrong, and usually Henry would kill someone for disrespecting him by disagreeing

But he feels more open to listening to you, feels more inclined to taking your advice

Your almost like a right hand to Henry, that’s if he ever actually admitted that your anything to him

But you are, because he’s already threatened and hurt the people who hurt you and is actively making sure that his presence surrounds you enough so that anyone within a few feet of you will flee out of fear

Henry believes that your just like him, therefore it’s his duty to guide you to the right path

To guide you into his path

You just didn’t realise how intrusive and dangerous this guidance would become

Sorry if this didn’t make sense at all 😭🙏

I’m trying to go for a sister sage and homelander type dynamic here but it probably doesn’t work

I just had the idea and thought I’d mix it with the ask tbh

Anyway, what did you think? :)

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bluebellhairpin · 10 months ago

Text

Katsuki Bakugou X Secretary!Reader

Summary: Working as the secretary to the famous designer Katsuki Bakugou hasn't been easy - however you find out you have it easier than most. Soon after that, you find out why.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Power Dynamic (VERY inappropriate boss/employee relationship). Swearing. Smidge of making-out. Bakugou probably gives off manipulative yandere vibes. Reader; wears a skirt, is called 'baby', otherwise is g/n (unless I've missed something T-T).

Listening to: 'Donatella' by Lady Gaga - "I wanna dress you up in silk taffeta, tailor these clothes to fit your guilt, what's your size?"

Masterlist || Ko-Fi || Art inspired by the fic

The Bakugou brand was known all over the world. From Gucci to Balenciaga, Bakugou was a name everyone in the fashion industry respected - and when it came to the man behind it all, it was also a name to be feared.

Katsuki Bakugou, with his grown wealth, fame, and the power that went with them, was practically a god on earth.

You were the one lucky (or pitied) person chosen to work closely with him. A secretarial assistant job to none other than the man himself was a job so many people would die for. It was also a job many before you had almost died while enduring. No one had lasted longer than a year. It barely took a week for you to figure out why.

Katsuki wasn’t just a diva, or a bitch (although he certainly was those things too) - he was the devil in Christopher Goodyear Welt’s.

By three months working under the blond tyrant, you had decided your life could be worse. You weren’t sure why all his previous assistants weren’t able to handle it - not until you walked into work this morning.

Katsuki was already in his office - a situation you hadn’t come across yet since he had a strict nine-to-five schedule he adored - and was practically roaring at someone down the receiver of his landline. He had a temper on him, sure - he was as famous for it as he was for his designs - but you’d yet to see him quite this angry before.

“You wouldn’t know corduroy if you spent your nine months in the womb with it!” you heard as you set your bag aside and hooked your coat up. “Get me Eijirou you shitty prick!”

You settled at your desk, eying his shadow through the frosted glass as he paced back and forth as you powered on your computer. Your eyes flickered down to the phone on your desk - if you picked it up you’d be able to hear the person on the other end - however if Katsuki caught you eavesdropping more than you already where (not that you had much of a choice right now) you would be in a whole new world of trouble.

“Put me on hold, I dare you.” Was the final thing Katsuki said before slamming the phone back down. It became eerily quiet. You barely dared to breathe.

Hearing his footfalls softly stalk across the carpet of his office, you tucked your head down and opened a random email to look busy.

“Where the fuck have you been all morning?” Your eyes rose to meet his vermilion ones. He had on that black button down that made his shoulders seem extra wide. For a moment words failed you - but you kicked your brain into gear quickly.

“Sir, it’s only eight thirty?”

“I’ve needed you here since six.” he said, leaning forward with a hand sprawled across your desk, looming over you in a way you had become quite accustomed to, and sending a dizzying waft of his cologne in your direction.

“I was very unaware of that,” you said, almost apologizing, but then thinking otherwise. You had been learning quickly the things Katsuki liked people saying, and the things he liked less so. “What can I do now?”

“Absolutely fucking nothing. You’re useless now.” he leant back, waving you off and sighing. “I need a coffee.” he said, turning on his heel back into the office.

“Useless my ass - who else gets you coffee?” you mumbled, quickly clicking through the email so you didn’t forget to later. Katsuki could be an absolute bitch, but at least he hadn’t yelled at you specifically - yet.

The little kitchenette across from your desk made coffee runs very easy - the only issue was that it still took a while. No instant or pod coffee’s for the great Katsuki.

Ten minutes later and you were pushing the door to Katsuki’s office open with one hand full of cayenne pepper infused coffee, and the other holding the latest Vogue magazine that had just been dropped at your desk.

You wordlessly placed the coffee on a coaster, and the magazine went from the table into his hands before you could even put it on the table. He likewise silently started flicking through the pages - but you had things to talk about.

“What was the issue this morning?” You asked, straight to the point. He didn’t look up at you when he answered, instead stayed focused on the pages as he fingered through them.

“Some extra who can’t get his head out of the twentieth century.” He said, taking a large mouthful of his drink. If he liked it he’d say nothing - often the only time he gave his opinion on things was when he didn’t like something. “He won’t call back.”

“They always do.” You said, standing firm until you had the answers you sought - coming back to ask the same thing twice was such a hassle for the both of you. “I’d appreciate knowing what to say when he does.”

“I don’t care,” he said, flicking the magazine down in exasperation to look up at you with a heatless scowl. “If it’s Eijirou you can patch him through, everyone else is a complete waste of time.”

Your eyebrows raised in something akin to surrender as your hands smoothed down the fabric of your skirt.

“Don’t forget your meeting with the seamstresses after lunch.” You said, then left to return to answering your emails and phone calls.

You always took your lunches with Hanta - a seamster two floors below Katsuki’s office. You found him extremely chill after having to deal with your whirlwind of a boss. He was like your lifeline - better yet, he could keep secrets like it was nobody’s business.

“I walked in this morning and I swear the glass for the whole floor was rattling.” you said, looking down into your cup of canteen-supplied orange juice. “If I wasn’t so sure he wasn’t going to hurt me I’d probably quit.”

“You know I’m like ninety percent sure you’re his favorite.” Hanta said. Your eyes shot up to his, but he wasn’t looking at you.

“I doubt that would be hard,” you said slowly, “His past secretaries sounded super incompetent for a job this fast-paced.”

“No, not just a secretary, but a person. I think your his favorite person in the whole world.” he said, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “He can scream at me, hell he’s thrown punches at Kirishima, and he’s Kirishima - you though? He acts like you’re porcelain.”

You felt your face scrunch up into a frown, and a huge smile cracked over Hanta’s face. “I can see why he likes you - you look just as scary as him when you make that face.”

“Hanta Sero, you take that back!” You said, voice almost too shrill besides the hum of the lunchtime cafeteria rush.

“I will do no such thing,” he said, leaning back in his chair, and crossing his arms and legs in a slow, cat-like manner. “I think it’s hilarious. Needed something new to tease you over anyway.”

“I am simply going to ignore you then.” you said. You felt your face scrunch even more, before you took a deep breath to relax. “You don’t deserve my attention right now anyway.”

Hanta huffed a laugh, leaning forward on his elbows. “I think we both know who really wants your attention, and I’m not going to be the person to fight him for it.”

Katsuki’s afternoon meeting had gone smoothly - you thought that it must mean some catastrophic hurricane was due later that afternoon. Or maybe you’d get hit by a car on the way home. Either way, the pleasant meeting meant Katsuki was either in a really good mood - or a really bad one.

On his way back into his office, he threw an order to call Eijirou at you over his shoulder, before throwing the doors open and entering his office.

“It’s important.” he said, and that was where the conversation ended. When you dialed the number only to be met with the receptionist - not even patched through to Eijirou’s assistant Denki - you practically rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got Marcel!” Silence was the stern reply. You’d spoken to him a few times - not the nicest guy in the world, so in your opinion Katsuki’s hatred of the man was valid/ You didn’t want to speak with him either, so you hung up.

Then there was a call of your name.

“Come here!” You sighed, but obeyed and walked around your desk and into Katsuki’s office. You were met with a sight that wasn’t foreign to you - but it made your heart stutter all the same. He was leant back in his chair, a large drawing pad against his folded knee, and a pencil pressed into his cheek. He was watching you closely as you walked in, red eyes partially covered by a set of half-rimmed reading glasses.

Your boss was mean, but his looks could make the devil cry.

“I am… Promoting you.” he said. You felt your mouth fall open in shock.

“I - Sir, I don’t -”

“Katsuki.” he said, voice now as hard as his stare. “No more ‘Sir’. You call me by my name. Understand?”

“Okay…” you said, voice breathless as joy swirled in your chest (finally, your hard work and patience had paid off!), “Katsuki.”

At the sound of you saying his name, he declined further back in his seat, and smiled - wide and showing off both canines.

“That’s much better,” he said, as if he’d been waiting for the change of title formalities, “Now sit down, we have a lot to talk about.”

You went to sit at the chair in front of his desk but he shook his head, almost jumping to his feet like he’d had hot coffee spilled on his lap. His suddenness had you freezing.

“No no, not there,” he said, waving the chair away with disgust, “Over there.” He pointed over to the chaise as if it was the most obvious place in the room to sit, then sat back in his own chair again.

Turning, you took a tentative seat on the sofa, and looked across at him expectantly with your tongue between your teeth. His pencil had found a new home on the open page of his sketchbook, and you quickly realized he was going to be multitasking this impromptu meeting. However he was making little to no effort at starting this ‘talk’ he seemed so urgent to begin only moments ago.

“So is there anything else to this promotion besides being able to call you ‘Katsuki’, or is that it?” you asked. His eyes flicked up at you, pencil stopped, and the side of his mouth quirked up, before his expressions changed completely to one of disapproval again.

“There’s more.” he said. You could see how tempted he was to not say more, if only to push your patience and see just how far it went. “You probably should know about it, considering just how personal things are going to get around here.”

You felt your heart beat pick up as he stood to stalk around the desk.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to need to find a new you, let's start with that.” he said, and pushed your shoulder back with the eraser end of the pencil. You fell back against the couch, and the pencil moved to guide one arm across the back of the chair - then crossed one leg over the other - then moved your other hand on top of your knee. Before you knew it you had been moved to pose like a sketching doll.

Katsuki gave you a once over, looking very pleased with himself (or how easy you were to manipulate), then walked back over to his desk. The pencil started again.

“You want a new secretary?” You finally heard yourself ask, voice coming out far too weak for your liking.

“More like you need an assistant.” he said, attention clearly divided between whatever he was designing, and your conversation, “Your schedule is going to be a lot busier as of now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked again. His head shook.

“If you ask that question again I’m going to have this conversation with you some other time.”

“You do know how badly you’re explaining this ‘promotion’, right?” you asked, voice coming out a little harsher than you knew was appropriate. But being proper can be damned, you wanted answers.

He just looked at you for a long moment with a knowing, albeit smug, smile. The sketchpad was dumped on his desk, pencil and glasses dropped on top.

“I’ve been hit with a new wave of ideas.” he said, “They’re amazing. New. Iconic. These designs fly off magazine racks and clothing store hangers like nothing else before. I couldn’t tell where the inspiration came from, not until I thought of when it all started, and the only thing notable about that was you starting to work for me.”

As he explained he stood slowly, came to stand before you again, now with the side of his leg pressed to your knees. Katsuki’s hand rose, and the backs of his fingers trailed across your cheek in a manner that was almost too soft, and too shy, to be an action coming from the harsh man before you.

“I need you with me, everywhere, from now on.” he said, voice low, softer than you’d ever heard it before. “I need you with me, and I don’t know how else to make sure of it besides making it your job.”

“Everywhere?”

“Of course, what use is an artist without their muse?” You had to admit, that forked tongue of his was making your knees weaker by the second. Was he truly saying you inspired him?

“You couldn’t have just asked?”

“I don’t need to ask,” his hand came down to grip your chin, thumb momentarily pressing on your bottom lip, “I get what I want.” Where his voice was getting stronger by the second, yours was sounding even weaker.

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to?” Katsuki asked, hand slightly releasing pressure on your chin - as if shocked at the thought of someone willing, and unafraid in telling him no. “Everyone wants to. Don’t you?”

“No,” you said quietly, completely letting your heart take over, no matter what could happen after. “I do want to.” His face broke out into that same wolfish grin as before - his hand snuck around to the hair at the base of your neck and found a firm home there.

“Then why not get paid for it while you do.” he said, an air of finality about the matter, and then leant down to capture your mouth in a searing, hard kiss. Hard enough that you could almost feel his teeth and jawbone trying to meld into yours - searing enough that you could feel heat swelling in your stomach and knees at how fierce and needy it all was. It took your breath away completely.

After a few long moments - long enough to have your eyes fluttering closed and your lungs burning - he pulled away.

Katsuki didn’t even look at you as he walked away, acting as if what he just did was a casual kiss on the cheek - while you were left feeling flushed on the sofa. Only once he sat down again with his sketchpad and glasses on did he look up at you. He licked his lips, as if making sure to taste whatever of you was left. His smile this time was very smug indeed.

“See baby, now you look perfect.” he said, then went back to drawing.

“What?” you asked, still breathless with your nails digging into the fabric of your seat.

“The lighting in here is foul, absolutely horrendous.” He said, “You needed a glow about you. Now you’re all flustered. it's perfect. With you finally in front of me, these designs are going to be breathtaking - just imagining them on you -” he looked up at you, quite suddenly stopping his train of thought, before wordlessly returning to his sketch.

From the way your heart felt like it was going to beat right up and out your throat you guessed he accidentally said too much. Had been too sentimental. Maybe Hanta was right - perhaps you were his favorite person.

You took a deep breath and stood to leave - only to be stopped.

“Where are you going?” Katsuki asked, voice almost a bark. “I need you here - you can’t leave now that I have you right where I need you!”

“I need water.” you replied, awkwardly pointing towards the kitchenette with wide eyes as if you were a child caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. He shuffled in his seat, huffing.

“Be quick,” he said. You could swear you saw the skin of his cheeks flush a tinge of pink as you turned away. He liked efficiency, and it was something you were pretty good at, but you hadn’t moved quite that fast before.

When you had agreed to your ‘not-so-little’ promotion, you were sent home with a whole new list of Terms and Conditions and - the more alarming of the two - an NDA.

With your lips still tingling from your apparent kiss from Katsuki, and your knees still weak, you weren’t able to do much more than graze your eyes over bits and pieces before deciding it was all okay. You should’ve taken the time to read it all.

You should always read the fine print when making deals with the devil.

The next day, almost as soon as you stepped into the building, you were met with Katsuki’s not-quite-other assistant, Mina, and whisked away to the seamstress floor. There you met Hanta, who himself had been up for the most part of the night - slaving over the newest design Katsuki procured as of just yesterday.

When you were told to get into a change room and strip - the carcass of a new dress in your hands - you were just shy of shocked.

“What - why?”

“Like I know how the mind of Bakugou works.” Hanta said, waving his hand around tiredly, trying to push you to close the curtain. “You know normally I have models in for this sort of thing - I mean you definitely fit the bill. The measurements, the dress is practically made for you. But it’s weird to me too that he got his secretary to do this job instead.”

“I’ve never done this before.” You whispered, clutching the covered mock-up to your chest.

“You’ll be fine,” Hanta replied, just as quiet, with his hand ready to close the curtain on you, “I’ve seen it on a mannequin - it’ll look fantastic on you. Just be confident.”

You tried your best to be confident - as pretty as the dress was, even unfinished with an unfinished hem and seams half-done - but it was leaving you feeling more exposed than you were used to.

The small changing cubicle had a mirror on one side - what for you weren’t sure. You’d seen plenty of models walk out of them only to have most of it adjusted with pins and cut off with scissors - often by Katsuki himself. You supposed it didn’t matter how bad it looked - you’d get manhandled until it looked the way it was supposed to.

With your hands smoothing the fabric on your hips - a nervous habit you showed too often - you took a turn in front of the mirror. It did look nice, even if it was only ivory muslin.

“ - Taking so fucking long!” Quite suddenly Katsuki’s voice could be heard - and even more suddenly you felt a great need to curl up somewhere and hide. He’s going to see you like this. He’s going to hate it. You are not prepared for this.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out your chest and leave a little blood trail all across the floor.

A hand curled around one side of the curtain divider and pulled it back. You let out a small startled yelp, bringing up your hands to cover your chest as if someone had dropped glass over a marble floor.

It was him.

“Oh shut up, no one else can see you.” Katsuki said, rolling his eyes before they laid on you in a hard stare up and down. He was right, besides the half-open curtain, you couldn’t see anyone through his broad chest and shoulders - not to mention the cheshire grin that was taking up half his face. “But I wouldn’t blame them for wanting a peek, give me a turn.”

You stood gobsmacked - where you seriously still processing what was going on? - and watched as his hip cocked to one side and his hands landed on his hips below the huge coat over his shoulders.

“You are starting a habit of forcing me to do things for you myself.” He said, taking hold of your hips and turning you slowly. His hands were warm as they moved you around in a small circle, leaving almost a burning trail behind over your hips, lower back and stomach. “I’ll let you know that’s not why I decided to fuckin’ like you.” he said.

His voice was soft, almost completely without its usual rough baritone. It shocked you, and as you looked over at him he wasn’t meeting your eyes - instead focusing on how a seam at your hip wasn’t seeming to sit how he wanted it to.

“What?” you asked quietly, aware there were probably others outside - Hanta even - and you supposed both yourself and Katsuki didn’t really want to let other people know exactly what you were talking about. Especially since it definitely sounded more personal than Katsuki ever had been.

“You did things for yourself. I liked that.” he said. Then, as if you didn’t just share what was most likely the most intimate moment of Katsuki’s adult life, he pushed the curtain back fully and grabbed you by the hand - exposing you fully to the handful of seamstresses waiting.

With a few barked orders, a flurry of people were at your sides, making adjustments. The neckline loosened, waist was made tighter, the blade of a scissor made another slit up your legs on the opposite side to the one existing. Your hands almost rose to clutch at the fabric at your chest in case it all fell away. Katsuki's hands rose to knock yours away.

“Don’t get in the way,” he mumbled, standing back. The others backed off too, apparently all taking a moment to look at what remained of the dress. “What do you think?” he asked, looking you right in the eyes. Your mouth parted, as if to answer, but the look in his eyes said he wasn’t even talking to you.

“One of your best.” Hanta said, barely needed to look up from where he was taking final notes to read his long-time associate. “Probably will be once it’s done. Beautiful.”

“You mean fucking divine.”

“You’re joking.” you said, carelessly holding the new dress in one hand as you stood angrily looking down at Katsuki.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” he asked, looking at you over the rims of his glasses.

He’d brought you back up to his office after the fitting downstairs, only to demand you change into another dress. The reason this time was completely unknown, and he was refusing to elaborate yet - worse, there was nowhere to change up here.

You’d have to strip and change here (with him in the room), or out behind your desk (right in front of the elevator anyone could use).

“I can’t believe…” you said, scoffing, now slightly gobsmacked along with your anger. “I’m not doing that.”

“If you think it bothers me, you’re mistaken.” He said, standing slowly and leaning over his desk. “Get changed. If you’re so protective of your modesty you can run along into the kitchen, see if I care. Just whatever you do, do it quickly. You’re making me wait long enough as it is.” Then he reached across and squished your cheeks between his fingers, pulling you closer so you leant over the desk too.

“If you really thought I was the kind of man to mix pleasure and professionalism then I’ve got news for you.” he said, wobbling your chin back and forth in his hold. “The only time you have to worry about that is if I invite you home, okay baby?”

While half of you was wanting to continue to defy Katsuki, you knew you were treading a fine line.

Letting out a huff, you pulled away, turned on your heel and held the dress out in front of you. It honestly wasn’t much more than a silk slip, but you’d had enough of an interest in fashion over your time to know this was very tame compared to many other dresses. Even compared to the one you wore not even an hour earlier.

Grinding you jaw in thought for a moment, you thought ‘fuck it’. Katsuki said so already but you knew someone getting almost naked in his office wouldn’t bother him - why should you let it bother you too?

The dress was thrown onto the chaise, and you pulled off your shirt as you slipped out of your heels. Your skirt shimmed off, and the dress came on. Despite refusing to look behind you to see what Katsuki was doing, you couldn’t help how your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest.

At least your underwear was matching, thank god.

You were about to do up the zipper when he made it clear he had indeed been watching you.

“No, take that thing off.” Your head whipped over your shoulder.

“Excuse me?” If looks could strike someone dead, a lightning bolt would’ve shot right through that window into Katsuki’s back. “I am not getting changed again.”

“No you bitch, I mean the bra. Take it off, it’s making the dress look daggy.” The way he said it made your face heat up. Duh.

“You could’ve said that before I put this much on, you’d think you’d have known that before now.” You grumbled, shoving the sleeves down again to unclasp your bra and toss it aside. Turning around again as you did up the zipper, you looked at Katsuki again, and the red of his eyes seemed darker than ever. You wondered if you’d said something wrong. Then his lip quirked up a bit.

“There’s my favorite secretary.” he said, and imminently tilted his head down to start sketching.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader

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rhaecerys-velaryo · 4 months ago

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LOVESICK Boyfriend pt.1

TW: Yandere boyfriend, toxic relationship, controlling bf, possessive bf, just not a good relationship altogether, angst, cheating implied, smidge of physical abu$e if you squint. MDNI

Summary: You and your boyfriend are on a date and things escalate. You feel insecure and jealous against his assistant/work best friend and he reacts in a way you don't expect. Everything just ends up in a shit show, really. Inspired by character made by nipuni on character.ai (link for the character) part two WC: 2378

It's a little embarrassing to be seen in public with Oliver. He's a great guy, and anyone would kill to be in your place. He's got it all: experience, looks, and smarts. But there are always others. You feel like you're no one special, certainly not on par with his previous relationships. To this day, you're still not sure why he chose you out of all people, why he's so adamant to please you.

"What are you thinking about?" Oliver's gaze shifts to you curiously. His fingers inch toward your palm, brushing the skin before intertwining with yours. He squeezes your hand, making sure you're paying attention to him. He's worried. You've been acting off for the past few weeks now.

The two of you haven't gone out in a while. Oliver suggested that you go out to eat at a Korean BBQ. He recalls your second date taking place here, so it's special to him. With the meat sizzling on the grill in front of you, it's clear that you don't have much of an appetite. That, or something is definitely bothering you and you don't want to tell him. It's enough to make him anxious.

Just a few days ago, you asked him if he could have anyone in the world, who would it be? Naturally, he answered that it was you. It was true; you're his entire world. But even with his answer, you didn't look satisfied in the slightest. What if you were thinking of leaving him? Oliver shudders at the very thought of it.

"Are you cheating on me?" you suddenly ask from your seat.

The smile that Oliver had plastered on his face drops immediately at the question. "What—no, of course not."

His gaze darkens a bit as he stares at you, trying to figure out where this question is coming from. It was odd to ask all of a sudden. Oliver wasn't the type to cheat. He found it wrong. "Why do you ask?" A sudden wave of worry crashes through him.

You pick off a few pieces of meat from the grill as you think of what to say next. "It's fine if you are. I'm not stopping you," you say, trying to be nonchalant about it.

Oliver looks at you in disbelief. He doesn't understand why you're being so nonchalant about this. It's like you're trying to play with his heart. "Stop saying that."

Oliver is trying hard to remain calm but he's frustrated. Frustrated that you think so little of him. That you'd think he'd actually cheat on you when he loves you and only you. He feels hurt that you could even say something like that so easily.

"Actually, it's not cheating, you're just getting a new girlfriend," you continue, your eyes on the meat. You don't see his reaction but you can hear the frustration in his voice. "You can tell me. It's fine. I won't be angry."

The words feel like a sucker punch to Oliver. It wasn't cheating? He was getting a new girlfriend? Oliver's grip on his chopsticks tightens so much that he's surprised they don't snap in half from the amount of pressure he puts on them. He can feel irritation and anger rising in him. With his patience wearing thin, Oliver reaches forward and grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him with a furious look on his face.

You look into his rage-filled eyes, searching for something in them, and give a smirk. "I mean a second girlfriend." You can now see his tense posture and the rage filling his body. You watch everything as you try to find signs of lying or not.

Oliver feels himself snap as soon as he hears "second girlfriend." He scowls, tired of you thinking that he could cheat on you with a second girlfriend. Especially when he could never look at anyone other than you. With his jaw clenched, he forces the words out of his mouth. "I don't want a second girlfriend, dammit."

"Oh?" You act surprised, shaking off his hand on your face and leaning back into your chair. "That's good then. No problems at all." You dismiss the topic and continue eating.

Oliver wants to snap at you. He's getting increasingly pissed off at how you're acting as if this is nothing. No problem at all? Seriously? He grits his teeth as he continues to stare at you with a look of anger behind his expression. He doesn't understand why you'd think he was cheating on you in the first place.

Is this what you think of me? He thinks bitterly.

You stay silent as you eat a piece of food, then use the tongs to flip some meat. When you see a set that is perfectly cooked, you grab them and put it on his plate. Oliver's gaze softens as you put the grilled meat on his plate. That doesn't mean his anger has gone down. He's still furious at the thought of you thinking he was cheating. Noticing that you're staying silent, he speaks up.

"Answer me properly," he demands. He needs to know why you think he would cheat on you in the first place.

"Answer what, my love?" you ask innocently.

Oliver looks like he wants to strangle you. You're really pissing him off with the act of innocence. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "Why do you think I'd cheat on you?" he asks with an annoyed tone mixed with anger.

"I simply had a feeling. Women's intuition. And if you aren't, I'd at least like for you to know that it's okay," you explain, giving him a smile.

Oliver narrows his eyes at you once again. You're still not taking this seriously. There wouldn't be a second girlfriend and it certainly isn't okay to cheat. "A woman's intuition, huh?" He scoffs. "Are you sure that it's not just your insecurities talking?"

Your gaze hardens as you glare at him. "The hell are you talking about, Oliver?"

The look you give him only confirms his hunch. "You're insecure," he says bluntly. "You doubt my love for you, that's why you think I'd cheat on you with a second girlfriend."

You stay silent as you continue glaring at him, suddenly having no words on your tongue. Is he right or wrong? You can't really admit it to yourself but it seems you don't have to.

Oliver can see doubt in your eyes. He can see that he's right. He's right that your insecurities make you feel like he could cheat on you. He's right that you doubt his love for you that much. With a sigh, he reaches over to you and places his hand over yours. "I'm never going to cheat on you or love anyone else. You're the only one for me."

"I saw you..." A mumble comes out from your glossy lips.

"You saw me what?" he speaks gently this time. Oliver gives your hand a light squeeze.

"I saw you with her..." you finally confessed. "Your 'friend' at work. How she clings to you." You continued as you remembered the pictures and the acts done in front of you. "I see the way she looks at me, too. She thinks I'm just some low-level girl. She wants to steal you."

"You mean Lily?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow at you, and a feeling of dread washed over him when he finally understood what you meant. You must have misinterpreted their acts.

He had been friends with Lily for many years, and she was naturally clingy. Not to mention, she was the type of person who liked to poke fun at people.

"Do I look like I care about her name?" You glared at him, pulling your hand away. "If you want to be with her or if she wants you, I won't stop the both of you. I shouldn't have to fight for you." At this point, the meat on the grill was getting charred, and you had lost all your appetite. You just wanted to go home and rest. All this was too tiring.

You're not stopping anything if there is nothing going on in the first place.

Oliver was starting to feel frustrated again, but this time it was mixed with disbelief and annoyance. You thought he'd leave you for someone else.

Instead of letting you leave, he grabbed your hand again.

"There's nothing going on between me and Lily. You're the only one I love, so stop thinking otherwise."

"That's just how she is—"

Oliver's eyes darkened slightly when you snatched your hand away from him. He was beginning to realize how much this was bothering you.

He bit the inside of his cheek.

"You wouldn't let another guy cling onto you. I know you wouldn't do that. And people can say whatever the hell they want, that doesn't make it true. I'm not interested in Lily."

"What if I do?" You pushed as you glared at him. "I'll go tomorrow to work and talk to Jorge, he seems quite interested from what I hear." You egged him on. "You being interested or not isn't the topic, it's the fact that you act interested."

The more the conversation went on, the more his frustration turned into anger.

Oliver's jaw clenched as you mentioned a name, which immediately caught his attention.

"Jorge?" He repeated. The thought of you talking to Jorge made him scowl. That guy was interested in you?

"Yes, the newbie. I hear a lot of things at work, my love." You sneered his pet name. "Jorge has experience at other things." The insinuation was clear.

Oliver's eyes darkened with anger. He has experience at "other things."

The thought of another man touching or being intimate with you made his whole body go rigid. But he knew at that moment you were trying to provoke and get a reaction out of him.

Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and leaned forward so he was closer to you. His gaze locked onto yours intensely.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Oliver's patience was wearing thin. He could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, but he kept himself from snapping. Instead, he leaned in even closer to you.

"You wouldn't go and let Jorge touch you like that." His voice was low and had a warning tone to it. He knew you were just getting back at him, but the mere thought of you letting another man touch you was driving him mad.

"I said. Try. Me." You leaned in more to insinuate how serious you were.

That was the last straw.

Oliver's eyes darkened at your response. He slammed his fist against the table, causing some of the utensils on it to fall, while the other customers around you looked at you in shock.

"That's it," he practically growled. Oliver abruptly got up from his seat and roughly grabbed your hand before forcing you to stand up too.

"We're leaving. Now." He dragged you out of the restaurant, not giving a damn about the stares on you.

Despite struggling against him, he was simply too strong, and you got pulled with him. You cursed him out, but he didn't care about anything you said or the looks sent your way by the other customers. "I am not going anywhere with you! Why don't you call Lily and see if she'll be your obedient little-"

"Quiet." Oliver's voice was sharp and cold, cutting you off immediately. He continued to pull you and drag you towards his car. Once he got there, he opened the passenger side door and shoved you in forcefully. Without another word, he walked to the driver's side and got in himself. Oliver slammed the door shut before leaning back in his seat, clearly pissed off.

The moment he went to open his door, you opened yours and climbed back out of the vehicle, slamming the door closed. You huffed and walked away from the vehicle, already trying to book an Uber or hail a cab.

Oliver saw you hop out of the vehicle. He was still pissed at you, but seeing you attempt to get a cab made him snap.

He got out of his car and slammed the door shut before stomping over to you. In one quick motion, he pinned you against his car and caged you with his arms. "No," he said firmly. "You're not calling a cab."

"I'm not going with you!" you hissed underneath him. "I don't want to see you right now. I'm going home."

"I said," Oliver leaned forward, his face inches from yours, "you're not. calling. a. cab."

He practically growled the words out. He wasn't going to let you leave just like that. You were going to come back with him whether you wanted to or not.

You slapped him as hard as you could given the space. "We're done, Oliver! I don't want to be with you anymore!" you yelled.

The force of the slap echoed across the parking lot. Oliver's face whipped to the side, feeling his cheek sting from the slap. We're done?

With a dark look in his eyes, he slowly turned back to you. That last statement of yours was like a sucker punch to the gut. "You don't mean that," he responded through gritted teeth. "Stop acting like a brat and get in the car."

"I do. You're so controlling, Oliver. It's suffocating. I wouldn't have even thought much about it, but whenever I hold you to the same standard you hold me, you go against my wishes. You don't respect me, and I don't even think you ever loved me. You just wanted someone underneath you." You let out everything you were holding in and exhaled in relief. "I don't want to be with you anymore."

Oliver was left speechless, his mind struggling to process what you said. His eyes widened in disbelief as anger and hurt mixed in him. You don't think I loved you?

"You don't mean that." He repeated, his voice sounding desperate. Oliver grabbed your shoulders and gave you a rough shake, as if trying to shake some sense into you.

"You don't get to leave me just because you feel like it. You're going to come home with me and we'll fix this, together."

"I'm not doing that, Oliver." Your voice was firm. "You can keep any stuff I have at your house; I'm not ever coming back." You pushed him off you and were surprised he let you, probably from the shock. You dusted off your dress and gave him a once-over. "It's over. There's no love between us anymore, if there ever was."

The realization that this was real was beginning to sink in for Oliver. He couldn't believe this was happening. You were breaking up with him. You were leaving him. Anguish and denial were mixing within him as he watched you push him away.

"What.. no..." Oliver whispered with a strangled voice. He tried to reach out and grab your arm but hesitated when you gave him a glare.

You steadied your back on your arm and gave him one last look. "Don't chase after me, Oliver. I'm leaving. Goodbye." You turned around and were lucky to get a cab to pull up. You got in, and you drove away.

Oliver could only stand there and watch as you got into the cab. He felt completely lost. Lost in how one second you were arguing with him, and the next you were breaking up with him and leaving him. Oliver's chest hurt as if being stabbed repeatedly. His throat felt tight. Oliver stood there for a few moments, trying to come to terms with what just happened before his legs gave out and he sank down to the ground.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #toxic relationship #fiction #writing #jealous boyfriend #imagines #original character x reader #character ai #possessive boyfriend #controlling boyfriend #angst #angst imagine

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yandereshingeki · 1 year ago

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Milk, Honey, and Sugar

Yandere Eren x Reader

Milk Honey and Sugar Masterlist

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Word Count: 12.7k

Content: College AU, Yandere content, Obsessive and Possessive behavior, Fluff, Smut, Dark content, Jiyuu beloved

Content Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Obsessive Behavior, Eren is a bit of a pervert, but somehow also shy about it, reader going thru it, Eren is described at taller than reader, Pet names (Angel, Baby), Dubcon (from stockholm syndrome), Eren is SO WEAK TO YOU, you’re both a bit shy, Reader is implied to be a tiny bit insecure, Tiddy sucking, Falacio, hand job, Little bit of subby! Eren but only a little, description of Eren’s dick lol, reader makes him CRY, mention of him pulling their hair a little, a smidge of edging, aftercare

Summary: After the realization hits that you aren't ever going to see your friends again, Eren is the one to comfort you—slowly turning you more and more dependent on him.

Oh my goddd It's been so long and I'm so sorry!!! A bunch of things got in the way of me writing for a while, but It's finally back! I'm going to try to focus on this series more so hopefully, there won't be such a big gap in posting again! I already have the next part nearly finished so it shouldn't be long before the next chapter! Also, I'd like to say thank you to anyone that's still here after my absence and anyone that's been here from before :,,) I'm so grateful. I hope this is enough to satisfy until the next chapter! There's a little doodle at the end for you all <33 Can't wait to write the most exciting parts of the story!! (In my opinion at least, lol) Please enjoyy

Chapter 7: Warmth (part 1)

The hours grew longer the more days you spent alone.

Your world was quiet, apart from the tick of the plastic analog clock or the occasional sound of water going through pipes and creaking footsteps from above. Being stuck on your own was such a lonely, stir-crazy existence. The only time you found solace from it was when Eren would make his way down the stairs, greeting you with his abnormally gentle smile and a soft kiss, giving you the company you constantly longed for and sometimes a consoling meal.

He had you wrapped around his finger by now, so tired of the isolation and quiet that you’d do almost anything if it meant he’d stay, just to ease your loneliness for a while. He was a distraction you took with little resistance because you didn’t want to think about the pain of being trapped for even a second.

He seemed to be the only thing that helped your ever-fragile mood, the one thing keeping you grounded as your mental stability frayed. It was hell when he would leave you, forcing you to face the cold basement alone again. You’d try to sleep through it, but sometimes your brain wouldn’t quiet and your emotions would explode to the point that you’d bawl your eyes out and sob until your nose was clogged and your head ached, your mind plagued with the overbearing thoughts of your long-gone friends and freedom. If they’d been looking, you were sure they would have found you by now. It should’ve been so obvious who’d taken you. Or maybe, everyone was too trusting of Eren to realize that deep down, he was an obsessive stalker, someone who kidnapped his best friend.

Either way, your hope of being found had almost completely diminished. With no access to the outside world, you didn’t even know if a search was ongoing. You had no motivation anymore, even for escape—although it’s not like you could because Eren hadn’t let you go upstairs since your last attempt. He hadn’t touched you the same way he did that night either, occasionally letting his soft kisses grow more heated but never going as far as he did then. You almost missed it. The intimacy, that is. He’d been nothing but sweet to you most of the time, even when all you could do was cry into him.

You felt pathetic being in such a state, constantly switching between craving his presence and despising him for taking you away. You barely felt deserving of being rescued since you gave in to your captor so quickly. Would anyone even want to help you if they knew what you’d done with him? How close you’d remained even after his betrayal? It brought a sick feeling to your stomach whenever you thought about it. All of the lame excuses and blaming your actions on your once adolescent crush or your dwindling will to escape. You knew the truth, yet you still didn’t want to admit it.

It’d been four weeks since your failed escape, and just a little over a month of being stuck in the basement—not that you even knew the specifics of how long it’d been because of how your days began to blend. Since your attempt, Eren spent more time downstairs, sometimes taking his entire day off to stay with you, slowly making you more dependent on his presence because it was all you had.

Akin to every other day, it started with his journey down, breakfast in hand and laptop under his arm, the device fully charged and ready for another day of playing offline games and watching videos or movies. But, also like every other day, his plans, per usual, were halted when he reached the bottom of the steps and saw you curled up on the bed, crying into your palms.

His guilt overflowed whenever he saw you like that, but he pushed it away when he remembered all the things that could’ve happened if he hadn’t brought you here. All of the people that could have gotten to you, the things they could have done to you. It made him irrationally angry just thinking about it. In his house, you were safe, and he always knew where you were. To him, that was worth the pain it brought you.

Laying everything on the desk, he rushed to sit next to you, trapping you in his comforting arms and pulling you into his lap, “What’s wrong, baby?”

He always asked that when you cried, always with the same pet names he’d use to try and ease your tears. You always replied that you didn’t want to discuss it, but he knew what the truth behind your sadness was. He knew it was because you missed everyone and you were terrified of telling him.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” You said, as usual, voice hoarse from tears that’d been pouring since you woke up. You put your head against him, soaking the white pajama t-shirt while he rubbed your back and cradled you like a child. His warmth and his pleasant autumn-like scent made it harder to focus on your problems, the comfort pulling you back to him in an instant. Sometimes it was like you were addicted, craving the constant reassurance of his presence and the distraction from your situation.

This had become almost routine—he would come downstairs or wake up with you, find you crying, and drop everything to comfort you, just to continue whatever he had planned for the day after as if nothing happened. It was such an exhausting pattern for you, but he couldn't care less. All he cared for was being able to have you with him where you were safe. Being able to hold and touch you was just a bonus.

He held you as tight as he could, trying to make you feel secure while compressed in his arms. You could only snuggle into him, pushing your ear against his chest to listen to his racing heart. It was a calming and familiar white noise that helped distract you from the fact that you were probably never going to get out. It helped you feel sane and reminded you that Eren was another human too.

He sighed feeling you ease into him, finally safe enough to relax too. The room was quiet other than the gentle sounds of breathing and the mechanical ticking of the clock. It was almost peaceful like this, just the two of you cuddled up together. Listening to each other’s soft sounds and finding comfort in them.

“Can I have breakfast now?” You asked, your voice still crackling from your dry throat. You were sniffling and your face was still wet from past tears, but you were more hungry than upset now and didn’t want to wait for food anymore.

Eren smiled and slid you off his lap, making sure to plant a loving kiss on your forehead before he got up to grab the wooden breakfast tray from the desk. He walked back, setting it on your lap and revealing the stack of 4 heart-shaped pancakes to you that still radiated the warmth from being cooked. There was a tiny plate of butter and a cup of syrup sitting next to it, along with a ceramic mug of Eren’s favorite drink, his warm milk with honey and sugar mixed in. He always used to give it to you every time you came over, trying desperately to get you to favor it, and every time it always tasted bland. Not bad, but it didn’t fit your normal preference for drinks.

Recently though, whenever he’d give it to you with your breakfast, it was much sweeter than before. The milk and honey blended together with a pinch of dissolved sugar just tasted saccharine all of a sudden.

At first, you questioned if he spiked it, but when nothing happened after you drank it, you abandoned the idea. It felt so strange to suddenly enjoy something you’d been so indifferent about, but you didn’t want to overthink it. After all, you just wanted to enjoy the warmth from whatever he made you—to enjoy his warmth because it was all you had.

“Well, are you going to eat?” Eren asked, questioning why you were staring at your food for so long.

Realizing that you’d spaced out while deep in thought, you muttered a quick “sorry” before grabbing the dull plastic knife on the tray to spread the butter over your pancakes.

While you were preparing your breakfast to your liking, Eren sat on the bed again, placing his arm behind you and sliding as close as he could without getting in your way, your thighs pressing together and his cheek almost touching your head.

He watched intensely as you cut into the syrup-soaked cake and stabbed into the small piece you separated, chomping down on it. As you chewed and swallowed it, he leaned his head on yours to get your attention, “Is it good? Did you like it?”

Nodding your head, you cut out another piece to shove into your mouth, “They’re really good! Did you make them from scratch?”

Eren smiled, feeling his heart melt when you gave him praise. He always ate up every little compliment you gave him, no matter how small it was. It was like a hit of dopamine every time you were even the tiniest bit nice—and he was addicted to it. Once he’d even kicked his legs and squealed into his pillow after you commented that he looked hot in a picture he posted, but that was a secret he would be taking to his grave.

“It’s my mom’s recipe… I just made them with a heart-shaped pan for the shape.” He replied, leaning into you and burying his face into the side of your neck while you continued to eat.

“I didn’t know you owned a heart-shaped pan,” You paused mid-bite, “When did that happen?”

“I got it when all of the Valentine's Day stuff was on clearance in stores… I just hid it in my room because I didn’t want anyone to see it while they were here.” He explained, his cheeks warming up at the thought of someone other than you seeing he owned such a bright pink and heart-shaped pan.

You giggled at his embarrassment and kept eating, enjoying the sweet syrup-soaked pancakes while you could. They were delicious, but especially warm compared to everything else, and you were so desperate to have that warmth that you were scarfing them down and barely savoring the taste. The sweet milk with honey came next, the most familiar part of the meal. You chugged it down so fast that you could feel its heat travel down to your stomach, officially ending your breakfast that morning.

It almost made you sad whenever you finished your food. You always felt extra cold after, especially without Eren there. It was never fun to experience.

“All done?” Eren asked, not allowing you a response before taking the tray from you. He placed it on the nightstand at the foot of the bed and went back to you, pushing you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning.

After taking a moment to maneuver himself around and get more comfortable, he placed his head on your shoulder and embraced you, the weight of his body crushing you into the mattress. It hurt a little and almost restricted your breathing, but having what was similar to a heated and weighted blanket on top of you was nice.

He always did this when you finished your breakfast. It was one of his favorite things to do too. He loved being close to you, breathing in your scent and littering tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone. It felt wonderful to claim you like that.

As you cocooned him with your limbs, he wriggled his way down until his head met your chest, putting his face between your breasts and squeezing you so they squished against his face. You let a gasp slip, face growing hot as a large smile formed on his lips.

You tried to push against him to get him off, but you struggled immensely from his weight compared to your strength. It took almost all your energy to get him to budge, but he finally got the hint and sat up after minutes of your whining and squirming—only to grab your chest and squeeze as soon as his hands were free.

You flinched and simultaneously gasped at the sudden grope, yelling at him with fake anger while batting his arms, “You’re such a fucking perv!”

He chuckled and put his hand on the bed to lean down, his reddened cheeks so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your face, “Yeah, sure. But you love me, don’t you?”

You were silent while you considered what to say, afraid to lie to him but knowing that if you gave him any answer other than yes, he’d probably lose it on you. You did love him. You really did, but not in the way he wanted you to. You didn’t think you did, at least. He was just a safe space for you. A source of comfort while you were trapped. That didn’t mean you loved him, did it?

Growing insecure at your lack of response, Eren squeezed your arm just tight enough to regain your attention and asked you again, this time with more desperation lingering, “Don’t you, angel?”

Without thinking it over more, you gave him an unconvincing answer, “Yes. I do.”

Satisfied with your response, he gave you a quick peck on the lips and got up to grab his laptop from the desk. You watched him carefully the whole time, sitting up and eyeing him as he picked up the small computer and carried it back to you.

He placed carefully it in your lap, plopping down and leaning into you like he did during breakfast, his arm slung around your waist. You stared at the sticker-covered computer in your lap, your hands trembling while you considered asking him about going back upstairs again instead of spending another day in bed binging a random show you chose.

You’d asked previously, even begged him to give you another chance, but his answer was always the same. He’d tell you that he isn’t ready for that, or that he doesn’t trust you yet. If you tried to ask repeatedly or beg for it, he would get angry with you and even lash out, leaving you alone for the entire day as a punishment, no matter how loud your cries got or how much it stung him to hear them.

“Can I ask something before we start, Eren?” You managed to get out, your words shaking as you spoke.

You could feel him tense up next to you as you asked, his gaze now fixated on the laptop instead of you.

“What is it?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

You opened your mouth to talk but stuttered so much trying to get the first word out that you had to pause again before talking.

“Can I go upstairs for the day?” You pleaded, quickly adding onto it so he couldn’t instantly deny you, “I’ll do anything you want! Please! I just… want to leave the basement for a while.”

Silence followed.

You were shaking, terrified of what he was thinking. He was staring at the floor, his brows furrowed as he ran through all of his options. He wasn’t angry, not yet at least. He only would be if you pushed for it too much, but he still hated having to answer that question. Why couldn’t you just be happy with what he gave you? He understood that you were bored and lonely, but it was still frustrating. It was so, so frustrating.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” was all he could manage in response, because If he said any more or got too aggressive there would be tears. And he was so weak to your tears. It was the sole reason he always had to leave you when you cried to be let out. If he stayed, his already weak spirit might break, and then you could weave your way into having your way and escaping. He didn’t want to risk anything close to that.

Despite his effort to avoid it, tears began to prickle in the corner of your eyes, almost as if on command. You wanted to leave so badly that you were partially willing to give up your hope of escape if it meant you could at least have that. You would give all of it, just to have that ounce of freedom and self-autonomy back.

“I don’t want to leave anymore, Eren! I promise! Chain my ankles or handcuff me to you, whatever! Please, just let me go upstairs with you!” You begged. It was evident you were pushing his limit with the look that took over his face, but you didn’t know what else you could do to convince him.

Eren shut his eyes, the frown on his face deepening, “Baby, please. Don’t do this today.”

“Please, Eren. Please.” You begged again, the first fearful tear spilling over your cheek. The look you gave him was painful, his chest tightening the longer he stared at you. You’d done this almost every day for the last week and it was so aggravating. He hated being separated from you but you forced it on him by pleading so often.

He looked away from you and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he snapped at you, “Why? Why do you want to so badly?! Can’t you just be happy with what I give you?”

He finished with a sigh and waited quietly for your response, but nothing came. You were silent.

It took Eren several moments to realize that you weren’t going to talk back, so when he finally lifted his head and looked at you, the sight ripped his heart in two.

You had your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth covered as you sobbed into it, trying to hide the sounds so you wouldn’t irritate him more, but seeing you cry like that with such obvious fear diminished any anger he had. He hated being the cause of your tears. He hated it.

Pulling you into his arms again and pushing the laptop aside, he apologized profusely and held you tighter. You whimpered into him, gripping his shirt while he pushed your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry for snapping, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He had his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair while he repeated his apology, “Please stop crying. Please, you know I hate hearing you cry.”

You hiccuped, holding your breath to choke down your tears. You held it in for a few more moments until you couldn’t anymore, taking an involuntary breath and sobbing into his shirt. In a poor attempt to silence it, you covered your mouth while you cried, quietly begging him not to leave you between sobs. It broke his heart.

He tried to reassure you, hugging you tightly and petting your head while he cooed, “I won’t leave. I won’t leave this time.”

It took a while, but following a few violent hiccups, silenced sobs, and deep, difficult inhales, your tears were dissipating and you were calming down, clinging to Eren as if your life depended on it.

He held you close, basking in your touch. He knew why you wanted to leave the basement. He was stupid to think that being trapped there would be enough for you, but after the last time he let you up, he was terrified that you’d try to leave again. If you ever did manage to get away from him, it would mean he’d lose everything, and he didn’t even want to think about that happening.

You needed to stay with him, where you were safe. Where he could watch over you. But, it was clear you also needed at least a little freedom, otherwise, your mental state could deteriorate even more than it already had, and that would be just as bad as losing you through escape. He didn’t want to reduce you to a shell of your former self. He didn’t want to break you. He just wanted to keep you to himself.

Thinking it over some more while you were wiping your face on his shirt, Eren decided to go against his better judgment and give in to what you wanted, which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. It was easier that way, considering you were both feeling awful about your situation.

“I’ll—I’ll take you upstairs. I’ll take you upstairs today.” He blurted out, sounding reluctant to say it out loud.

Your entire mood had changed from just that sentence, perking your head up so you could meet his eyes from where you sat on his lap. Eyes wide with excitement, they were lighting up more than they had in the month you’d been stuck there. It was nice for him to see. He’d missed that sparkle so much.

“I’ll only let you come up if you follow my rules though, okay? If you break them I’m sending you back down and I won’t even think about letting you up for at least a year.” He aggressively added to his previous statement, wanting to be clear with what he expected of you so there wouldn’t be any complaints later.

You rapidly nodded your head, getting ready to agree to whatever he asked if it meant getting that slight sliver of freedom in the end. Lucky for you, he didn’t want to take advantage of your eagerness—not too much at least. He loved you too much to hurt you like that.

With a small sigh, Eren slid you off of his lap and took his laptop, holding out his hand for you after he got up. You took it with a large smile plastered on your face, pulling yourself onto your feet and practically skipping to the stairs because of how happy you were. He was slow to follow after you, not particularly joyful about letting you out of the safe haven he’d created for you, but still willing to if it meant he got to see your bright smile again.

Once he made it to the top, he was hesitant to unlock the door. He really didn’t want to let you out, but when he looked over and saw how excited you looked standing next to him, he couldn’t help but picture how upset you were just prior, and how quickly that changed when he said you could go upstairs. Keeping you locked up and to himself was already selfish enough, he didn’t want to keep suffering even more in a cold basement for his own benefit.

Before he went through the final step of opening the door, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight. He was trying to make sure you couldn’t just run off, but also trying to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. With a final heavy sigh, he unlocked the door and turned the knob with his laptop under his arm, pushing it open and revealing the dim light of morning to you.

You tried to run, not with a hope to escape but more so out of excitement—but Eren was quick to pull you back to him and remind you of your place.

“Don’t forget what I told you.” He spoke sternly, the grip on your hand growing tighter to the point that it hurt.

His rules—to behave. To do what he asked. From the first time he let you upstairs. The same rules that you broke the last time you were here, and not just because he was vague about what “behaving” meant. Of course, you couldn’t forget.

You sounded dejected as you looked at the creaky wooden floor, “I’m just… excited. Sorry.”

Sighing, he sauntered forward while pushing you with him, taking the lead but ultimately doing what you wanted by going to the living room.

Jiyuu got visibly excited when you walked into his view, his fluffy wings opening up slightly while he paced back and forth on the giant bird tree across the room, considering if it was worth it to fly over.

Eren stopped in his tracks, a small smile brightening his face when he realized what the bird wanted. He always thought it was sweet that he liked you, despite parrots' common behavior of being possessive over their owner. It also made your integration into his home a lot easier, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the bird going after you whenever he was affectionate with you.

“Why don’t you go pick him up?” He asked, trying to push you forward, closer to Jiyuu.

Excited to see the bird—a living creature other than Eren—but terrified of doing something wrong and being punished for it, you turned to look at him, asking for reassurance that this wasn’t a trap, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I won’t be mad at you for walking away from me this time.” He assured you, the hand on your back pushing you even further, harsher this time to the point you almost stumbled.

You stepped forward with hesitance, slowly gaining confidence the closer you got to Jiyuu, your saving grace from complete isolation with Eren. Watching carefully, Eren stayed behind, his gaze burning holes into the back of your head. It made you so nervous, his eyes fixated on your every move. Being watched so closely was highly unpleasant and anxiety-inducing, and you could tell that Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

Climbing onto you when you held your arm out, Jiyuu was quick to run to your shoulder and puff his feathers up, squawking loudly at Eren. He’d never been especially protective of you, nor aggressive towards Eren, so this behavior was completely new—at least to you. It was especially shocking because of how loud he was able to scream, the sound triggering a constant ringing in your ears.

“Eren? What’s wrong with him?” You panicked, turning to see what the bird was so upset about that he had to shriek, only to be face-to-face with Eren. His knees bent slightly so he met your height, startling you even more when you unexpectedly met his piercing green pupils.

His eyes were glued to the bird, his hand lifted in front of him so he would step up from your shoulder. To your surprise, the bird nipped at his hand and chewed on it, stepping on it when he was finished and acting like he hadn’t just screamed at him. “He’s just being moody. Don’t mind it too much, he just gets like this sometimes, ‘specially when I’m not in the best mood. He can tell.”

As he put Jiyuu back on the tree stand to chew on more of his toys, he walked closer and wrapped his arm around you, practically forcing you into his chest with his laptop pressed against your back. When his other hand was free from the bird’s talons, it joined his other to squeeze you tightly, keeping you close as he leaned over you, inhaling the comforting scent from your skin and hair.

You returned the hug, trying to distract yourself from the sinking feeling you had in your chest when he implied that he wasn’t in a good mood. It was obvious it was because of you—because you wanted to go upstairs. It made you feel so guilty, but also so afraid. He could be unpredictable when he was upset, which is probably why Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

“Why don’t we just watch some TV for now? Since he’s in such a bad mood and I still want to laze around…” He spoke up, backing away but leaving little space between you and him.

Without a thought, you nodded, ready to agree to almost anything as long as it would improve his mood and keep you out of your personal hell known as the basement. With your compliance, he was quick to drag you back onto the couch, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and pouncing, crushing you under his weight. Your whines went ignored by him in favor of grabbing the remote to activate the TV, bringing up the news before he swiftly changed it to an on-demand streaming service. He put on one of your favorite shows—one you’d already watched, probably dozens of times since you’d come here—and threw the controller

down, burying his face into your chest and engulfing you in his arms.

Resting your hands on his back when you finally processed everything he’d sped through in seconds, you focused more on him than the TV, although only able to see the top of his head and his messy bun. His face was buried between your boobs again, except this time, instead of smiling and teasing you about it, he shut his eyes and eased into you, feeling secure enough to relax with you trapped underneath him. The shift in mood was apparent, but all you could think to do was run your hands through his hair, hoping that would soothe him enough to think about letting you stay upstairs more often.

It was silent after that, besides the background noise of the TV playing and Jiyuu preening his feathers and chewing wood. You were both clinging to each other, unmoving and resting. Eren was so warm, it almost made you tired—but you didn’t want to sleep. Not when you were finally experiencing what you’d wanted so badly for weeks. You longed to walk around and explore the house more, but he probably wouldn’t let you. It was frustrating.

“Eren?” You said, trying to get his attention on you instead of whatever he was thinking about in the silence.

He hummed in reply, not bothering to lift his head because he was too comfortable with his face against your chest.

You twirled some of his loose hair between your fingers, silently trying to persuade him as you asked, “Can we go to your room? I want to see more than just your living room and kitchen.”

Before you could continue with your long-winded speech trying to convince him to let you go to a different part of the house, he interrupted you with a finger over your lips, letting out a muffled “mm-mm” while he shook his head that was still against your chest. You frowned, moving his finger away from your mouth and continuing to push, “Why not?”

A scowl took over his face as he peered up at you, his chin stabbing into your sternum when he replied with aggressive venom in his tone, “Because I said no. Drop it.”

Once you nodded, a look of stinging fear glazing your eyes, his expression relaxed and he put his face back into your chest. Although your response calmed him, his answer did nothing to satiate your curiosity. You’d been in his room a few times prior to the kidnapping, so what was so different about now?

You let out a small sigh, continuing to run your hands through his hair but turning your attention towards the TV that still played your favorite show, although you’d begun to get rather tired of it after watching it over and over so much. Especially now, when watching different shows and dramas was all Eren had let you do aside from occasionally letting you play games on his laptop. As relaxing as the routine used to be, it was starting to grow excruciatingly dull. There were only so many days you could do nothing but laze around before you grew tired of it.

��Eren.” You began again, desperate for something to entertain you. You didn’t want to spend all your time out of the basement doing the same thing you did in it.

With a quiet groan, he lifted his head again and frowned, “What now?”

“I’m bored… I want to do something other than watch TV.”

Realizing that you weren’t trying to annoy him about getting into his room again, his eyes softened and he replied with a sweeter tone, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You have games, don’t you?”

“In my room, yeah. But I don’t want you going in there right now and I’m not leaving you alone to grab anything.”

“Then what else can we do?”

When you asked, his brows scrunched together and he averted your gaze, deep in thought. You watched carefully, worried that he would become irate if you were too talkative while he was trying to relax.

Slowly, his cheeks darkened as an idea popped into his head—one he’d usually tried to push away so that he wouldn’t risk making you feel uncomfortable with your already fragile emotional state, but right now? You seemed to be in a better mood, and much more content with doing just about anything to ease your boredom. There was nothing to stand in the way of his selfish desires.

Noticing the way his former annoyance bloomed into a red-faced fluster, you grew worried and tried to turn his head so he’d look at you, only for him to avoid meeting your eyes. His cheeks were burning hot to the touch and you could tell he had something on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to ask calmly despite the tremble in your voice, mentally preparing yourself for whatever emotion he might reply with.

A silent pause followed, and he barely managed to stutter it out, his hesitancy to explain his thoughts holding the words back, “I thought of something we could do if you are really that against just watching TV, but—but it’s kind of lewd. It’s—It’s really lewd actually.”

You could feel your cheeks grow warm at all the things that could mean, quietly urging him to continue out of curiosity about his desire, “Yes…? What is it?”

He was quiet again before he met your eyes, replying with a faltering voice full of anxiety, “I was thinking that maybe… we could take turns touching each other, and we could—I could learn more about your body… and we could make it into a game, I guess? If you really want to, the person who finds the most sensitive spots on the other person could win. That would make it more fun, right? Would something like that interest you more than TV?”

He stared at you with pleading puppy eyes while awaiting your response, his pupils swallowing his irises that practically glowed as they peered into your soul.

Your entire face burned hot, now matching his. You were like shy kids confessing to each other, so tense and unnerved.

Speaking with an unfamiliar kind of softness in his voice, he sounded like he would explode with embarrassment if you didn’t respond well, “We don’t have to, but I just—I just really want to touch you again. Even without the ‘game’ part. I’ve missed it. A lot.”

He felt so perverted just saying it out loud.

His offer was tempting, but you didn’t know if you could trust it. Your judgment had felt so clouded recently and you’d been giving into him more under the guise of gaining enough freedom to escape, but how much would you need before you tried to leave again? The thought of escaping was crossing your mind less and less, and you were growing used to being with only Eren all the time, getting dangerously close to enjoying it.

Part of you was terrified of ever leaving, terrified of how your friends would react when they found out what you’d already let him do to you, and terrified of leaving what you’d just started becoming accustomed to—but another part of you was terrified to stay. If you did, how far would things go? How deep of a hole would you dig for yourself before it was too late to get out?

“We don’t have to!” He repeated, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I could just find something else for us to do if you don’t want to,”

“It’s okay! It’s fine, it’s fine. We can do that.” You blurted out without processing what you were saying. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, so satisfying him was the only option even if it went against your better judgment. You could deal with the guilt later, but right now you had to focus on keeping his trust. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to give in and have a little fun with someone you’d trusted while you could, take advantage and get the experience you missed out on years before. You’d rather it be him than a stranger. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Really? Are you sure?” He asked again to reassure your consent while his lips shifted into a sly smile.

No. You weren’t. But you’d already made your bed, and you’d rather lie in it than rip off the sheets and start from the beginning, “Yeah. I am.”

There was a small moment of silence, the two of you staring at each other before he jumped off of the couch, swiftly making his way to the tree where Jiyuu was. He was quick to take his feathery friend to his cage, closing the door and covering it with the blanket he’d normally only use for him at night. Despite the bird's clear displeasure of being put to bed early, showcased through his sad-sounding caws as the cage was locked, he left the cover on and returned to you on the couch, towering over you with half-lidded eyes and a beet-red face.

“Uh, could you get on my lap when I sit down?” He asked timidly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You responded by nodding and sliding to the side, allowing him to sit while he dragged you onto his lap to straddle him.

Once again, it grew quiet. You were looking at anything but each other, the awkward tension making it difficult to keep eye contact. You were both used to intimate actions, but not intimate words, so anything you thought of saying fell short before it could leave your lips.

It felt like you were fumbling teenagers again, lacking experience and not knowing where to begin—although Eren was the only one of you who had any to begin with. The most you had under your belt was some awkward and sloppy kissing between you and your short-term ex-boyfriends from high school, but he didn’t know that.

“Since this is a game… Do I get anything if I win?” You asked first, trying to break the ice and guarantee at least something good would come out of this.

You watched the cogs turn in Eren’s head for a moment before he responded, trying to figure out how to word it so that you didn’t request anything unreasonable after his answer, “I guess you can have something… Just tell me what, as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with leaving.”

It only took you a minute to decide what you wanted, the idea popping into your head rather quickly when you thought about what he would actually be willing to give, “Can I go in your room?”

He sighed hearing your response, a cross glare in his eyes while he reluctantly acceded, “Fine, but only if you A, win, and B, give me until tomorrow to clean it.”

The excitement you had grew rapidly, but just as it peaked, it dissipated when you remembered what you would have to do to get your reward, and the fact that it wasn’t guaranteed in the first place. The small smile that’d grown on your face faded once you realized it, and then the pressure ramped up once again.

“So…” He finally began, a short pause holding him while his eyes drifted down to your chest, his hands landing on your hips where he rubbed small circles into them with his thumbs, “Where should we start?”

You were both anxious, but he was the only one trying to hide it. His hands were shaking, but he tried to mask it with subtle movements down your plush thighs. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to feel all of you and run his hands over your entire body—but he wanted to make sure you wanted it too. He needed you to want it too.

“Wherever you want,” you replied, too nervous to say much else. His hands felt like fire against your cold skin, the feeling of them gliding over your body making your cheeks boil.

His fingers grazed down to your knees and back up your body, stopping just below your chest to speak quietly, “I want to touch you everywhere though.”

It was obvious what he wanted to do, but was too nervous to do it. His brows scrunched together while he stared at your chest, sunken in thought. The sight almost had you giggling from how silly he looked like that, so deeply focused on your breasts. To try and urge him forward and get past both of your anxieties, you slowly intertwined your fingers with his, leading his hands up to grope you.

His eyes flicked up to you as he made contact with your chest again, his gaze relaxing and eyes lighting up as they stared into yours. You looked so pretty in your current position, sitting on his lap with your cute thighs squished against him, your hands covering his, and your gorgeous eyes shying away from his stare.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asked, leaning in so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his crimson face while he squeezed you.

Letting out a small squeak from his grip, you decided to skip the verbal reply and gently pushed your lips against his, your noses bumping awkwardly because you were hesitant to do anything that could deepen the kiss further. Despite this, Eren missed the cue and tilted his head to the side, trying desperately to interlock your lips and part yours.

His groping grew rougher as he relaxed, fingers touching your nipples through the thin shirt you wore, the fabric barely shielding how hard they were growing. Your face was burning while he felt you up, sweat beading on your forehead when something stiff pressed against your crotch.

It was so warm. Everything about him was warm. His body, his demeanor, even his smell. It was all so warm compared to the cold you always felt. Even before he took you away, it was always cold. But he was so warm.

“Eren…” you mumbled into his lips, your pulse rising and your arms falling over his shoulders.

He pulled away for a moment, face still inches away from yours, “What is it?”

“You’re warm.”

You could feel him chuckle as you said it, responding with “So are you.”

He kissed you again, this time carefully pushing his tongue between your lips in a way that was less than forceful and moving one of his hands to the back of your neck to hold you there. His touch sent tingles up your spine, your body melting into his hands. It was like your integrity burned away when he was close, and you couldn’t help but crave more.

Eren’s other palm slipped under your shirt, sliding up your stomach and squeezing your bare breast before lifting the fabric further. Your body tensed again, suddenly growing anxious at the thought of him seeing your chest nude. It’s not like he hadn’t before, but it was only now that it felt so nerve-wracking. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but now the thought made your heart race.

When he finally pulled his face away from yours, giving you time to breathe, it was only so he could pull your shirt over your head and throw it aside. Following that, his mouth was back on yours and he was reaching for your chest again—but this time, you stopped him. You took your arms off his neck to cover yourself, anxiety pulsing at the thought of him looking at you more. You didn’t feel this way the other times you’d been nude around him, so why were you so nervous now? Everything was burning all of a sudden, and it almost made you feel sick.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Eren questioned in his sweetest voice, attempting to quell your sudden fear by backing off to cup your cheek, his other hand resting on your thigh. You tried to look him in the eyes, but your stomach sank when you met them. His irises were the brightest, most intimidating green that made your heart ache, you couldn’t stand to stare.

“I’m—I’m kind of scared.” You stammered, staring down at his hand while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

His brows furrowed as he overthought what you said, “Just… all of a sudden? It wasn’t like this before, why now?”

He didn’t mean to seem angry, but his expression showed the opposite. So, feeling pressured with a slight tinge of fear in your eyes, you quietly apologized and began to uncover yourself, afraid of upsetting him and causing any harm that might get you sent back downstairs. He stopped you immediately, grabbing your wrists and holding them so your arms still covered you.

“Don’t apologize… It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He reassured, reaching to grab your shirt beside him on the couch, “I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Sadness laced his tone, his expression matching it as he pulled the garment over your head. It wasn’t because you were hesitant to go further with him, you knew that, but your heart hurt to see him making such a face. So sad, even with the tiny smile on his lips that was meant to reassure you. It was more than just wanting to stay upstairs. You wanted to make him feel happy. Even if you felt guilty about how you would do it.

“No, no, Eren…” You stopped him from pulling the shirt down, pushing it back over your chest while you wiped your watering eyes with your other arm. “It’s—It’s not that. I'm just—I’m—So nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?” He asked, trying to avoid the temptation of looking at your now bare torso while he addressed the issue at hand.

“I don’t know,” you started, mentally going through the list of things that were making you anxious to find something to say other than the truth about the shame you felt, “This is just… a lot different than the last few times you’ve seen me naked. You’re so close so you’re going to see… everything.”

“I don’t care what they look like. The only thing I care about is that it’s you.” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them, cheeks blazing red as he leaned close to you to confess, “You’re perfect to me. So perfect.”

Your heart began to swell again, this time for a different reason.

He always made you feel so wanted, even before he took you away, his words like a warm blanket around your needy heart. It almost had you crawling into his hold, with no intention of ever leaving. No one ever praised you like he did, so maybe that’s why it had such a large effect on you. You were so susceptible to it that it was dangerous to your escape, constantly tiptoeing the line between enjoying the praise and falling face-first into Stockholm syndrome. It was a dangerous game you were playing, and without even realizing, you were losing.

“Can… you touch me again?” You asked quietly after letting his praise marinate in your head for a minute, prying your hands out of his to pull your shirt over your breasts again.

Shocked by your sudden switch-up, his eyes widened for a moment before he awkwardly nodded while placing his hands on your waist, finally letting his eyes trail down to your breasts.

Seeing them so close sent blood rushing not only to his face, but also down under, his already semi-hard on pushing uncomfortably against his pants. He wanted to brand them with his bites and kisses, cover them in his spit, and bruise them with hickeys to claim them as his. He was opposed to rushing you though, so all he could do was drag his hands up your torso until they finally cupped around your soft flesh, squeezing lightly just to confirm that he was really touching you and that it wasn’t just another wet dream.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to repeat his reassurances in your head while he fondled you. His normally cold hands were warm against your skin, squishing and playing with your chest and making your already hot body feel like it was burning.

He was pushing them together, bouncing them, and holding them in his palms. It was so embarrassing, but you were trying desperately to keep it together. When you finally brewed up enough confidence to pry your eyes open, you saw how happy he looked, as silly as it was, and it took everything inside of you not to let out a giggle that could’ve embarrassed him. You wanted him to keep enjoying himself, even if your face burned from the awkwardness of it.

But just as you were growing used his hands on you, he threw a question at you that hit like a brick to the face, draining every ounce of courage out of you in a split second, “Can I… suck on them?”

He was leaning towards your chest as he spoke, looking up at you with anticipating eyes that made another wave of intense heat flare through your face. You were barely getting used to his fondling, but to suck on them? You might faint. With no experience except your own fingers and numerous toys, you didn’t even know how sensitive your nipples could be. The thought of squirming around in his lap while he lapped so leisurely on your tits made you shiver. But at the same time, it also piqued your curiosity and made the warmth between your thighs grow. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s—That’s fine. Just—be gentle, ok? No one’s ever done that to me before…” You replied with a shaking voice, brows pushed together with worry while you avoided eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked rhetorically, hungry eyes still gazing up at you as he leaned towards your chest. He broke his stare to pull your shirt up and off again, cupping your breasts and latching onto one of your nipples like it was all he was born to do.

You winced in response, anxious to experience the feeling for the first time. Just having your sensitive bud in his mouth felt so different, so warm and wet—so when he took a long, slow lick, you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your throat.

He almost lost his composure right then when he heard that noise. It was amazing, like a slice of a heavenly melody he wanted to keep locked in his brain forever. He wanted more of those sounds. He needed more of them.

With your other breast cupped in his palm, he started to pinch and nudge the bud while he sucked softly on the one in his mouth. You were already letting out more quiet whines, holding the back of his head while your fingers tangled in his hair. You couldn’t even begin to explain the burning pleasure that rippled from your chest to your core or the throbbing ache that proliferated between your thighs. It felt so much better than you imagined, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Eren being the one to do it made your heart race.

Desperate to pry more sounds from you, his intensity rose by the minute, lips tugging on your nipple and fingers pinching the other. As more soft whines and moans spilled from your mouth, your spine arching to push your chest further into his face, he could feel the stiffness in his pants painfully begging to be freed. You sounded beautiful, he just wanted to throw you onto the couch and fuck you senseless while you cried out. Holding back from that was so hard, especially with all the cute noises you were making. He wanted to take you right here, but he knew he’d have to be patient if he didn’t want you to feel rushed or forced. He needed to be like a wolf stalking its deer. Slow, calculated, determined.

Pulling away from your mound, he looked at your swollen, spit-covered bud, smiling to himself with newfound confidence while moving to your other one. His possessive feelings were growing with each mark he left on you, every new blemish claiming another piece of your body for himself. Once he had all of you, god knows how he’d act.

He had one arm around you, pushing you closer to him to make it easier for him to swallow your chest while his hands groped your ass and felt up the wet spot between your legs, just barely tugging at the hem of your shorts when the opportunity arose. He was sucking hard, running his tongue diligently over the nipple and flicking it repeatedly to steal more moans from you. Every noise, every whimper, and every whine was just more motivation to him, fueling his excitement to keep touching you and eventually have you touch him. He almost couldn’t take it anymore, the bulge in his pants becoming increasingly painful the longer this went on.

It seemed he finally snapped after a few more minutes of vigorous sucking and quiet whimpers, grabbing your arms and forcing his face away from your chest after he heard you whisper out his name. As much as he wanted to continue the petting, he needed to have you now or he might just burst.

“Fuck whatever stupid idea I had for a game, I need you to touch me. I need you to touch me now, please.” Eren begged, sounding more desperate than you’d ever heard him before, almost growing teary-eyed at how pent-up he was becoming. His hips were roughly grinding into yours, praying for anything to rub against or release his tension. He was so frantic that you thought he might get on his knees and beg if you said no.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious. You wanted to know what he felt like and how he would react. You wanted to revel in the feeling of being desired so badly.

“You want me to touch you… that bad?” You asked, your voice quivering from the intense feeling rumbling through your body that you could only describe as heavy. Without Eren’s support, you would probably collapse into a hot mess on the couch.

Eren’s eyes grew wide as if you were spouting nonsense in a language he didn’t understand, “Of course I do! Why the hell do you think we’re here in the first place? I’ve never wanted anything so badly!”

His hands were shaking out of frustration, his grip strong enough to leave marks. Though, when the fear gleamed in your eyes and your muscles tensed up, he was quick to calm, loosening his hold and sliding his hands down to hold yours instead.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just… so, so desperate. I want you so badly,” He apologized, looking down to avoid shameful eye contact with you, “I need you. Badly.”

You stared at him quietly for a moment, playing around with the ideas in your head before deciding through your lust-clouded judgment that you wanted him too. In the moment, you didn’t care if you would regret it later. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted to have control over him, if only for a little while.

For once, you were the one to make the first move, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his forehead while you reached your hand to his groin. His entire body stiffened as you put your hand on the tent in his pants, his cheeks flushing when he peeked up at you with that desperate look in his eyes.

“Please—Please be gentle. Don’t squeeze it too much, I don’t—know how much I can take…” He stuttered out as if the fabric holding his cock back hurt any less than you squeezing him too tightly would.

Nodding, you caressed him again, watching carefully as his eyes squeezed shut and he leaned back, uttering a soft moan from your hand on the underside of his cock. He was still tense, but you could see that he was enjoying your touch, so you carried on. Beginning gently, you cupped him through the thin fabric of his pajama pants and massaged your hand up and down his pulsing shaft, eventually moving to tug at the band around his waist to silently ask permission to free him from his confines.

Although you wanted to take it slow, you were also desperate to see and touch him without the barrier separating you; and it seemed like he was too. That much was evident when he didn’t bother to let you pull his pants or boxers down, ripping them off himself and leading your hand back to his freed shaft by your wrist.

Catching on quickly, you tightened your hand around him and eyed up his length, examining it while he went back to gasping at every little movement you made. He was a lot bigger than you expected him to be up close, not to mention how heavy he felt in your palm. Seeing all of the little things you hadn’t noticed previously, it looked so different too.

Veins crawled up from the bottom of his girth, stopping a few inches before reaching his head, and he was swollen and red at the tip, already leaking precum. His bush was well-trimmed, a tiny freckle at the base of it, and it curved upwards while it twitched in your hand. You never thought you’d see a dick that looked so… perfect. Just holding his weight in your hands had you clenching around nothing, the thought of it filling you up passing through your mind more than once.

You slowly moved your hand up, stopping with your thumb on the underside of where his head and shaft met. You’d read online about men being sensitive in that spot, and it appeared to be true by the way his breath hitched when you ghosted your digit over it. Curious, you pressed lightly and caressed the spot up and down, causing his hips to jolt unexpectedly while a louder gasp left his throat.

“Ohh my god. Oh my god.” He breathed out, pushing his elbows into the cushions behind him to grip the couch beneath his thighs more efficiently. He’d never felt this good, even with his other, more experienced flings in the past. Even with less skill and precision, you were just so much better.

You were you. His dream. Everything he’d ever wanted in life. That’s what you were. His most prized possession, his most important person. That alone made everything feel superior. Because it was you doing it.

Enjoying the erotic look on his face, you kept up your motions and continued to stroke the spot below his head, sending him into a frenzy of squirms and whimpers as he grew overstimulated just by the pad of your thumb. His hips bucked up, desperate to get more friction to tip him over the edge of his already approaching orgasm.

“Fuck—Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels.” He uttered under his breath, voice shaking as you rubbed even faster. His whimpers were high-pitched, turning into something more akin to whines as he neared the end; but just as he was reaching the hilt of his pleasure, you pulled your hand away, leaving him to cry and plead for your touch again.

Seeing him so desperate for it was such a change from his usual self. It was like the roles swapped, and now you were the one that had him wrapped around your finger. You never wanted it to end. You longed to keep what little control over him you had for as long as you could. Plus, he looked cute when he was the one tomato-faced and begging.

Leaning close, you kissed his jaw while he audibly sniffled, reaching up to put your hand behind his head and push it forward to kiss his forming tears away. He whimpered again, one hand clawing the couch while the other flew to your hip. You pecked his face, slowly trailing to his lips so you could kiss, fully entrapping him in the scheme forming in your head.

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft for a second time, shocking him into pulling away before you pushed your lips against his again, assertive about keeping his mouth against yours. He was already moaning into you, grip growing tight as you began moving your hand up and down his length.

He was practically melting underneath you, arms trembling as your hand worked his hardness, pumping it rapidly. His cries for you were only growing louder, turning into muffled chants about how close he was to finishing. You loved to hear it, but you knew you didn’t want it to end so soon.

Once again, you let go of him, moving off of his lap and taking a seat next to him on your knees while he whined about your second absence. However, his complaints ceased when he realized what you were doing, your head already moving closer to his length and your hand taking its place at the base of it.

“Wait, wait,” He panicked, trying to stop you, reaching forward to grab some of your hair and pull your head away, “Are—Are you sure you want to do that? It doesn’t taste as good as you might think.”

Your mouth changed from its open “O” into a pout, a frown taking over your features as he stopped you from finishing him off, “I know what I want, Eren. Please let me.”

With your familiar longing gaze piercing his, he was quick to give in and remove his hand from your head, thanking the lord that he held the motivation to wash himself regularly and make sure he was clean every time he interacted with you. Right now you wanted him almost as much as he wanted you, and if you were so certain about it then he wasn’t about to stop that. He needed to take his chance to savor it because god knows how long he’d wanted this and when he'd get another chance. You finally wanted him too, so it would be foolish to stop now.

“Just… don’t push yourself.” He muttered, running his hand down your back while you resumed what you were doing before.

You nodded with a quiet hum, placing a gentle kiss on the head and taking an experimental lick just below. Tracing the pad of your finger up and down his veins, you took in all of the little shudders you managed to coax out of him and began a trail of kisses down the underside of his length. The way he was almost pouting with embarrassment while his cheeks were such a deep shade of red was adorable, it just made you want more. You wondered if this was how he felt about you most of the time, so enamored that he couldn't think about anything other than your face.

Reaching the base with your pecks, his cock twitching every time you made contact, you stuck out your tongue and pressed it against him. Slowly and tediously, you dragged it back up to the top, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake while Eren bit back a whine. A few more frivolous kisses to the tip and you finally took him into your mouth, pushing your tongue against him while you lowered your head as much as you could without gagging.

Lifting your head, you peered up at him, studying his face while you tried to force more into your mouth, unable to fit more than a few inches before tears emerged in the corners of your eyes. He was so big, you could barely get anything in, but that didn’t seem to affect the amount of pleasure it gave him when you finally began bobbing your head. Eren was already turning into a mess again, but the second you started moving the hand on his shaft in rhythm with your mouth, he nearly broke down crying from the feeling.

Tracing shaky hearts on your back, he stared down at you, trying to burn the image he saw into his memory and lock it away for safekeeping. It was exhilarating to see you like this, so much so that he had to cover his mouth to prevent the moans that slipped out from growing too loud. He couldn’t handle it, especially after being edged twice, he was going to go crazy if you didn’t let him finish this time.

Holding himself still was the most difficult thing, especially when all he wanted to do was hammer into your throat like there was no tomorrow—but he didn’t want to make you choke on him. Not yet, at least. It felt too early to be that rough with you.

Being built up and denied satisfaction the last two times meant it wasn't long before the band was stretched again, dangerously close to breaking. The way your tongue pressed against the sensitive spot below his head, the way your fingers curled around him and stroked everything that didn’t fit in your mouth had him gasping for air. It was driving him up the wall, pushing him so close that he could feel himself at the very edge, nearly tumbling over it even if you weren’t the best at what you were doing.

When your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching his ruby-red and sweat-slicked face twisted with pleasure, he finally snapped. You watched his eyes squeeze shut as he threw his head back, crying out in whimpers as he lost control of his hips through his orgasm, repeatedly chanting “I love you” between swears.

You couldn’t help but gag as more than you could handle was shoved down your throat, eyes going wide as your mouth was coated with a bitter taste that made you wince. You had to pull away while he was still coming, coughing and gagging more at the feeling of his release in your throat while the rest spilled over your hand.

Eren was apologizing under his breath, still struggling through the pleasure of his climax—but you decided to push him the slightest bit further as revenge for making you choke, massaging your finger over the same spot you had earlier and sending a shock through his entire body again. You continued to touch him as you sat up, leaning into him with your head on his shoulder so you could feel the way he shook from the overstimulation.

“Please—Please, oh my god I can’t take it.” He cried, tears bordering his eyes as you teased him. Seeing that you didn’t want to go too overboard, you decided to give him mercy and let go, watching him go limp as his body finally relaxed. He was panting, covered in sweat like he’d just finished one of the intense basketball scrimmages you used to watch him do, even though he’d only gotten sucked off and pleasured. It was almost cute to you, mostly because it made it much more obvious how much of a hold you had on him, and you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being desired.

Following a few minutes of quiet, filled only with sounds of his panting and shuffling of you snuggling against his arm, he spoke up again through pants, slowly coming back into his normal headspace that was dedicated to caring for you, “Was… Was that okay? Are you doing okay?”

Your eyes half-lidded while you stared at him from his shoulder, you nodded with a smile spreading across your lips. The bliss of everything was still holding onto you, the giddy feeling that bubbled in your chest stemming from the moments prior. You just wanted to stay like this, cuddled up against him while you relaxed together in sweet silence, only broken occasionally by your back-and-forth comments about aftercare and gentle kisses to his collarbone.

When Eren finally decided to get up, still so delirious from the pleasure that he hadn’t even thought about how you were out of sight, it was only to grab a rag and some water from the kitchen. Then was back on the couch as quickly as he’d left, tidying you up and pulling you into his lap to cradle you. While you clung to him, burying your face into his neck, he leaned forward to grab your shirt from the floor, quickly pulling it over your head so you could get back to cuddling.

You were feeling oddly clingy, more so than before. You just wanted to stay in his arms, snuggled up to his warm body. It was the most at peace you’d felt since you’d been taken. It felt nice.

Suddenly pulling you out from your comfort, Eren pushed your face away from his neck, eliciting a whine from you as he grabbed the glass of ice water and brought it up to your lips, “Come on, you should drink. I know that I probably didn’t taste very good…”

Pouty about being pulled away, you snapped back playfully with a raised brow while pushing the glass away, “How would you know what you taste like?”

His face twisted in embarrassment, his brows furrowing as he stammered trying to explain himself, “Well, I don’t, but I’ve just—I’ve been told it doesn’t taste very good.”

You giggled at his response, “That doesn’t mean you don’t taste good to me,” even though it was true that he tasted rather foul.

Slightly flustered, Eren quickly tried to regain control of the conversation, feigning confidence while placing his hand on your nape to push your face close to his, “Well why don’t you let me have a taste for myself so I can see?”

“Mm, how am I supposed to do that?” You asked.

“Like this.” He replied, pushing his lips against yours and dipping his tongue into your mouth before pulling away just as quickly, leaving you stunned at his sudden shamelessness.

While you were still staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, he pushed the glass cup into your hands, forcing you to hold it as he guided it up to your mouth. Finally pulled out of your trance, you let out a small sigh and took a sip, the cool water finally washing away the bitter taste his release had left in your mouth.

“I guess I don’t taste that bad,” He started, which on its own almost caused you to spit out the water, only to be shocked again when he continued the statement, “Or maybe I was just tasting you.”

You nearly choked while trying to swallow, yelling out afterward and slapping his shoulder, “Eren!”

“Shh, shh, just come here so I can hold you again.” He cooed, taking the glass from you and pulling you against him, “My angel.”

Pressing kisses to your head, he smiled as you snuggled into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck while he pet your hair. With both of you relaxed, it was quiet once more, the two of you cuddled into each other as the silence surrounded you, leaving you both to your thoughts.

Eren was thinking about what you’d said, about what you wanted if you won his “game.” Even if you didn’t remember it in the moment, he would feel bad if he didn’t give it to you eventually. Not to mention, you were smart. You’d end up asking about it again at some point. He knew you would, and the thought of it made him anxious.

It’s not that he didn’t want you to go into his room, it was just that the things he had out would be deathly embarrassing for you to see. Once he got the chance to clean everything up, it would be fine for you to come in. If anything, he wanted you to stay in his room. He wanted to be able to trust you enough to sleep in his bed with him, to experience that kind of deep intimacy with you; but with everything you’d done recently, he still wasn’t sure about it. However, he did have a somewhat peculiar idea about what you could do to gain his trust—one that would get the authorities off of his back too if he played the cards right. Your reaction to the idea would tell him all he needed to know about how much he could trust you too. It was brilliant—at least to him, it was.

As if your minds were parallel to one another, you decided to speak up and ask about what’d been promised to you, “Hey… am I still gonna get my reward since I technically won that game you mentioned?”

“Funny you say that actually, I was just thinking about it,” he began his reply, tightening his arms around you so that you would be as flush against him, no space separating you, “And I thought about something else we could do that you might like a little more.”

Jumping to the conclusion that he was trying to back out of his past agreement, a frown formed on your face and you opened your mouth to scold him, only to be stopped with a finger pushed to your lips followed by his loud shushing.

“Shh! Just let me finish before you chew me out!” He hushed you, pressing kisses between your wrinkled brows until they relaxed, then continuing, “My idea wasn’t that different from yours. It’s pretty much the same. I’ll let you come into my room tomorrow, except I’ll also let you stay the night with me there.”

Again not allowing him to finish, you interrupted excitedly with a smile already taking over your face, “Really? In your bed? With you?”

Eren already spent many of his nights downstairs with you, but that wasn’t the same as sleeping with him in his bed. Sleeping in his room not only meant you were free from the unfriendly aura of the basement, but that you would have light when you woke up. You could wake up to the warm morning sun for the first time in a month. You’d missed it so much.

“Yes. With me.” He began again, clearing his throat and frowning at your repetitive habit of interrupting him, “But only under one condition.”

Taking note of his annoyance, you stayed quiet this time, eyeing him as a way of silently asking him to continue.

“You need to call the police department tomorrow morning and tell them you don't want to go home.”

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itsabouttimex2 · 9 months ago

Text

Saccharine Snacks

Platonic Yandere Sun Wukong Drabble

Something feels different about today. Not necessarily wrong… just a little off. Just a few seconds after you wake up, the feeling sinks in. Nothing is inherently off-putting or uncomfortable, but that gnawing pang persists. The air feels strangely thick, like it’s trying to restrict your movement. The brightness of the sun that streams in from the window feels almost artificial.

But nothing is different. Everywhere you look, and everywhere you check… it’s all the exact same as it’s always been. It almost feels like a challenge, your brain racing to find the reason for this feeling, searching for the smallest difference, some minute variation in your room that would justify the strange feeling plaguing you. Predictably, you turn up nothing.

There’s no new additions, nothing taken away without your notice.

Maybe you really are just being paranoid. Maybe the air is just off. Maybe it was something as simple as a bad dream throwing you off. Whatever it it, you can’t quite shake the feeling. Not even as you get dressed, grab your staff, and head out to meet your mentor to get started with your training.

As always, he greets you with a cheeky smile, waving you into the kitchen.

“It’s not often that I see you in here,” you very casually point out. Once, it had been a little strange to speak so openly to someone so revered and powerful. But it had been by his own request that you spoke to him as an equal and friend rather than a mentor. There was no need to be so serious, after all.

“Except when we’re training. Then you really do need to take me seriously, bud,” he had told you. “Cause what I’m teaching can be just a smidge… dangerous, you know? Don’t worry, don’t worry! Nothing that’ll kill a little mortal like you, I swear!”

Even his reassurances can be goofy and heartening, with the way he acts. Just another thing you’d gotten used to. He gestures for you to come into the kitchen, waving you to the chair across from him.

“Well, I wanted to try and make something special today! I was in a kinda… ‘cooking mood’, y’know?” He looks up at you, holding a knife awkwardly as he unevenly slices cores cherries into disks.

“That doesn’t look like cooking to me,” you lightheartedly point out. “And your knifework could use some practice.”

“Yeah? So could your staff-work,” he teases back, dumping the segmented cherries into a large bowl. He grabs a handful of strawberries and moves them to his cutting board, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you, only half-focused on his task. “And what would you call it, huh? Baking? Broiling? Grilling? C’mon, bud-“

“Preparing,” you somewhat smugly interrupt. “I’d call it preparing a salad.”

He chuckles at your semi-confident tone before sliding you a cutting board and knife.

“If you’ve got time to sass me, then you’ve got time to help me, bud. Take two of those peaches from the sack over there and slice ‘em up.”

The fruit is soft and plump, fitting snugly in the palm of your hand. With two in tow, you return to the cutting board and slice them lengthways, splitting them in half and prying out the pits.

“Those are good peaches,” he explains unprompted. “Took me a while to get ‘em, actually. So I wanted to share with you.”

Sun Wukong is a good friend. He likes to dote on you when he gets the chance, and always works his hardest to keep you in good mood. He’s taught you a lot about martial arts, and never seems to get impatient with your progress, even when you find it nearly impossible to keep up with him.

Sun Wukong is a good friend.

So you trust him without hesitation when he snatches up a chunk of peach and lifts it to your lips- he shares his food with you all the time. This is nothing new for either of you.

The peach is soft all the way through, fuzzy pink skin unblemished by marks or spots. The white flesh is perfectly saccharine.

“It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” you say with a smile.

Your friend doesn’t answer. He’s too busy smiling. It’ll take you a while to figure out why, but there’s no need to worry.

You’ve got all the time in the world, now.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Mentor

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moodymisty · 10 months ago

Note

Listen I know the wall husbands heads are full of concrete but I'm interested in what you could do with a black templar

Maybe having a cleric darling (Thinking more of a lay person vs someone like a sister of battle) so there can be some delicious religious subtext

But I also know some black templars are very much into seeing when normal baseline humans can overcome the odds and rise above with their own zeal.

Maybe she isn't a combatant but by the God Emperor she will help out however she can even if it is just passing him boltgun magazines.

I got ideas for Black Templars but they're all over the place! Maybe you can make more sense of my ramblings and since it's still on the brain it could be Yandere or not just however you can make a Black Templar with a Darling work

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: So... I went apeshit. I apologize. I just fucking love doing religious subtext and whatnot. Also the frail maiden with her knight. Combining them? Awooga. Like this is my dream prompt. I hope you enjoy.

Summary: His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.

Relationships: Unnamed Black Templar/Fem!Reader (there aren't pronouns used but the lady/knight vibe is super intense)

Warnings: A smidge lewd but not NSFW, Vague traditional gender roles-like talk (being gentle/needing to be protected etc), Religious under(over)tones, Forbidden romance undertones, Vague yandere/yandere beginnings, Armor kink if you squint, Brief mentions of blood and murder, General 40kness

Word Count: 2209 oops uwu

Ceramite boots thud against the floor like the thunder overhead, echoing in the high, vaulted ceilings.

He hears a tile crack underneath his right boot as he shifts his weight onto it mid-step.

He was always heavier than his brothers. His armor had to be adjusted three different times to fit him as he outgrew it.

'Leave him, he’s off to go for his prayers, and to stalk the locals.’

His one battle brother had laughed at the other’s comment, as he left them all behind to return to the cathedral. It's far from his first time here, in these sanctified halls. He finds himself returning here after almost every patrol, every outing, every moment alone.

His armor shifts with his movement, and he rolls his left shoulder during his walk. He’s had the armor fixed after a stray round hit him in the shoulder, but it still feels off. Like the motion is ever so slightly delayed in comparison to his other interface ports.

He'll get it looked at again. For now he has a different pursuit.

It’s the dead of the night, moon high in the sky as he walks through the nave past pews filled with nothing but air. At this time of night he knows it will only be you here, keeping candles lit and rolling scrolls. A stray servoskull might flutter past every now and again, but other than that, you remain in complete solitude.

No distractions, no needless fluff. You're always busy, fluttering about, making yourself useful where you can. You aren't able to fight, not this threat, but your obedience in cleaning armor- weapons when an Astartes allows- and other such duties has earned you enough to stay where your fellows have left.

Many of the other human refugees have been shipped off at this point, to become the Militarium's logistical problem. You and a few others however have earned your keep. At least in the eyes of the Black Templars.

You'll be far safer here than in a Militarium camp stuffed in with hundreds to thousands of others; Like animals waiting to be shipped off world.

You'll be far safer here with him.

There you are. He can spot you from across the cathedral, and a part of him wonders why it has such an effect on him. His hearts beat faster and his neck tenses; It feels like how he does whenever he's about to fight, but also distinctly different. It almost makes him feel like he's sick from an illness he can't explain.

The moment you hear him however, knowing the sound of an astartes this late and this far away from his brothers could only be him, your back straightens. You've been leaning over for awhile, and your body makes uncooperative cracks as you stand at his approach.

He stops in front of you, at the bottom of the ambulatory steps that rise up to the main altar. You stand at the top of them, quickly moving aside so he can come closer. When he does, you can feel his gaze through the lens of his helmet. It always feels heavy, even when his helmet isn't tilted you way you swear you can feel whenever his eyes are on you.

With both hands he unseals his helmet with a soft hiss, grasping it by the rim before handing it to you. It’s almost too heavy for your grip, but you manage to hold it close to your chest and avoid dropping it. Meanwhile he takes a knee, elbow on his knee as he drops his head in prayer.

His chainsword shifts on his back, over top of a long, tattered cape that's stained with mud and blood at the bottom hem. Astartes don't leave their armor during war, and so the cloth holds the weeks long stench of iron and rotting flesh. It simply burns however, until a few minutes later and then you can no longer smell. For the best, more than likely.

The cathedral is cast in complete silence, his shoulders shifting underneath plates of ceramite. He always is whenever he prays, unlike his brothers in the few times you've seen them. Perhaps it's just a quirk of his. Or maybe they're the odd ones.

Then again, they aren't the ones visiting an empty cathedral in the dead of night, only to meet a single person. Over and over again.

When he rises, he gently takes his helmet from your hands and latches it onto his belt. You speak up for the first time since he appeared.

"Have you made good progress out there? The weather seems to only be getting worse."

He looks down at you; His short, hastily chopped hair dry and pressed in odd places from the pressure of his helmet. It's mostly dry now, but you can tell it was wet not long ago. He must've taken his helmet off in the rain and was instantly soaked to the bone.

"The Emperor watches over us. We will prevail despite the deluge."

Said deluge batters on the tall glass windows of the cathedral, and thunder cracks not much later. The sound gives you a momentary jolt. This particular storm has been going all day, but the area has been battered with rainstorms for weeks now on and off. It might not slow them down, but you can see dried chunks of mud where they've had to trudge through it to progress. Most of it is washed away on him now, the rain having cleaned his armor significantly.

Your hands grasp each other tightly, no longer having his helmet to act as some sort of grounding.

"I tried to pray like you do, this morning." His eyes noticeably brighten ever the slightest, as your voice echos in the empty cathedral. "I wanted to pray to the Emperor that you stayed safe out there."

You don't know if he finds it amusing; But the corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly anyways.

"Then pray for our victory, not our safety. What matters is that we succeed," He states.

You hear the mechanics in his armor shift as he leans slightly more on his left leg than right. It's like the armor is simply an extension of himself, and you suppose it is.

He is the first astartes you've even seen, so your knowledge is sparse. A small part of you has so many questions you'd wish to ask him, not knowing if he'd even entertain you with an answer.

You're fascinated by him; You wonder if he thinks the same of you. The way he acts lends you to think so, but you don't know how to feel about it.

In the corner of your eye you notice movement, and turn to the right just a bit and see someone walking across the nave. But when they catch sight of you and one of the Black Templars, the scurry out of the main hall like death was on their heels.

It isn't the first time someone has made a conscious effort to avoid you, now that you have an astartes taking such an interest in you. People are keen to spend as little time around them as possible- as despite them being the primary source protecting you all, they have more than displayed their fickle nature. One misspoken word and you could be gone. It's happened before. You know of a few faces that have disappeared with little a word.

You must look away from him for too long, as suddenly his armored hand grasps your jaw, turning your face back to him. The awkward angle due to his height makes your neck ache, and you grasp at the seams of his gauntlet for any sort of support.

"Are you going to try and run like they did?"

He says, watching you like he's looking for something more than a simple answer.

You wonder what he sees. If he notices the way your heart has begun to race in fear and something else, as he overtakes your vision. That something else was only for those rare moments of solitude where your reasoning left you, and your mind wandered to areas it shouldn't. If you'd known any better, you might've thought such things were blasphemous, or something of the sort.

Suddenly, you remember that he's waiting for an answer; You watch as the scars on his face move when he shifts his jaw.

"No."

He takes a step closer and with no more room your back presses against the altar just behind you. You risk nearly bending over it from how close he is, his dominant leg taking root just close enough that your legs have to part to let his knee past.

The shadow of the window mullions decorate the back of his armor, the light making the shadows against his face even harsher. You can even see the shadows of large rain droplets against his pauldrons, sliding down as if they've actually fallen on him. You can hear them hit the glass as the wind whistles outside and rattles the glass.

You watch him wondering; His eyes and face are completely unreadable. Astartes are so stoic, any little emotion is held invisible deep within themselves. Trying to figure out what he's thinking is an impossible task, though it's clear the interest he has in you is no longer just curiosity. That thought makes your heart pound against your chest as if it's trying to escape, your blood hot.

His thumb presses against your lips, and your mouth opens. You can taste the metal on your tongue, like bitter iron. His hand despite being so inhumanly large is so dextrious and gentle, and the thoughts that enter your mind are sickening.

It feels like he's toying with you; Experimenting with something new as he watches the way your soft skin gives under his armor. Your hands and gentle skin have faint crumbles of candle wax and ink on them from your work, as they grasp his armor.

You're terrified. You want more of him. You'll be happy to burn if that's what it requires.

"You'll come with me, when we are finished here."

You whisper his name, telling him yes as if you were foolish enough to think you had a choice in the matter. No one but him is here to hear it.

If someone was you wouldn't be able to see them from the way his massive armored form overtakes almost all of your vision, swallowing you in a sea of shadow and pitch black armor. They would see as he leans down, his thumb leaving your lips. You can feel his hot breath on your skin. The way he almost seems to suffocate you with how much of his body looms over you, just to get close. You can hear your own heartbeat so you just know he can, his eyes dilated and nearly total black.

Your back hurts pressing against the edge of the altar, feeling vulnerable underneath his unreadable stare. The fabric of your clothing bunches in places and rises up on your body, catching on the seams of his leg plates. His armor might be cold, but astartes run hot; Like their blood is boiling, so beneath that metal chill is the heat from the skin visible on his face and neck. You think if the cathedral was any colder, his hot breath would be visible.

His lips hover over yours, brushing as if he's so thoroughly detailing every step of this. Savoring each moment, or perhaps just toying with you. Watching the way a human so much smaller than him writhes under his grip at his mercy. You want to finish it, but the hand clamped around your jaw won't allow you, as much as you want to yearn and beg and plead to k-

'Brother. Return from toying with the refugees, the chaplain has returned with an update.'

Suddenly audible is a deep voice shaken by vox distortion emanating from his helmet; His head turns ever so slightly in it's direction. The bow of his upper lip brushes over yours as he does so. His brow furrows and he seems visibly irritated, interrupted during the worst possible time. You are as well, though it's more of desperation as you try to silence the way the your body aches for just him.

But as quick as it had begun it all ends, as he rises to his full height and removes his hand from your jaw. It complains with the promise of a hefty bruising, as he uses the same gauntlet to one handed slip his helmet back onto his head.

You can feel him stare at you even through the lenses, as he shifts in his armor and walks past where you stand splayed against the altar, clothes a mess. Your legs wobble as if about to give out from underneath you without his support, a weight like a rock in your lower belly.

He walks down the ambulatory in silence and leaves you alone once more, but you know it won't be for long.

#if you want me to name him and design him feel free to say! but for now you can make him the astartes ken doll of your dreams #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #black templar x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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touyas-multi-purpose-saline · 18 days ago

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DAY XXVI. — THREESOME (GUARDIAN ANGEL / FALLEN CHERUB AU)

cw: Threesome, Fingering, Yandere Undertones, Religious Undertones, Obsessive Thoughts / Behaviors, Possessive Thoughts / Behaviors, Quirkless AU, Violence / Violent Undertones, Unhealthy Relationships, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: Oh, yes, a very self indulgent AU. I actually have quite a bit of lore about this AU. If you'd like to see more content from it, let me know! I'd be happy to write more for it. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 1.4k words.

“Hands off.”

Touya cackles a little before it tapers off into a chuckle, and he shakes his head softly. He leans to the side a smidge, and his arms shift around your body to draw you closer to him. The back of your head rests against his chest—he doesn't have a beating heart, you’ve always thought that was ironic—and his lungs rattle whenever he breathes. Touya flicks a wrist so he can poke the bottom of your nose.

“Woah, calm down, Chisaki. You’re being so haaaaaarsh right now.”

There’s a hint of something to Touya’s lilt, but you don’t dwell on it. He’s trying to tease Kai, yeah, but it's always a deadly game. Kai doesn't like to be played with—he doesn't deal with nonsense, he doesn't waste his time on useless things that have no relation to his current goal—you.

Kai has always been here for as long as you can remember. He told you that he was your guardian angel, whatever that means. It means that he’s always hovering over you, watching, leering, and you have to remain under his gaze, his care, and you’ll be with him until you die. You once asked Kai if he would be your guardian angel for eternity. He told you that there was only one way for that to happen because humans don’t have an afterlife—but then he refused to elaborate. Touya is nothing like Kai.

“You’re not allowed to touch her. Get your filthy hands off.”

Kai crawls forward, hands and knees, and those big wine hued feathers on his back flutter before they span out, flat. There’s this look in his golden honey eyes, piercing, predatory, and they’re seeing you in a way you’ve never felt before. His nude body glistens under the moon, but it’s not sweat. It’s something pure, something akin to tiny pearls, gems in the sand. Your cunt throbs, and you realize that you’ve never felt like this before. You’ve never even considered Kai like this—not even whenever you first begin developing sexual urges, whenever your hormones birthed and spiked, whenever you began touching yourself at night. Even whenever Kai would lay by your side at night while you masturbated, eyes open.

Touya’s fingers drum on the sides of your waist.

“C’mon. She wants it, pretty boy. We’re in love.”

Touya had pierced you with that arrow of his—just a tiny little dot on your pinky, you hadn’t been paying attention, but you met his gaze, fell in love. That’s how those tricky arrows he carries work. He shouldn't even have them, but he intercepted your real cherub, murdered them. Touya never totally explained it, but he said he saw the perfect opportunity, and said Kai had been the perfect target. He’s a fallen cherub, his dove wings now raven. Touya had shot one of those arrows into Kai’s back, the heart-shaped head far into his flesh, digging underneath cloudy epidermis. Kai hadn’t screamed, hadn’t yelled, nothing, but he had been staring right at you. He’d been reprimanding you for attempting to invite someone over—they could hurt you, didn’t you know?—and he’d been so exposed. Touya wanted to fuck with him. It worked. Kai changed, morphed, and he was an antichrist that towered over your frame and demanded to be your lover. He was obsessed with you now—Touya said a guardian angel had never been hit by a cherub’s arrow, that’s why he wanted to attempt it to see the outcome, he had been giggling whenever he said that—and he was your lover now.

But so was Touya.

Kai growls.

“You sacrilegious failure—what gave you the right to piece my human with your arrow?”

Touya shrugs, and you can tell he’s smirking, you can feel it.

“‘Cuz you’re so stuffy. I figured she would need a schmoozy lover instead a’ you.”

Kai looks insane whenever he pounces forward. He’s between your knees, his claws are flexing and real, and his pupils are dilating. They grow and shrink, camera lenses, and you can tell he’s calculating the best way to tear out Touya’s throat, he’s done that before, his teeth glitter underneath your eyes. There are chainsaws and bullets in the back of his throat, animalistic sounds that make you shiver and tremble, but Kai doesn’t pay attention to that. He never quits imploring Touya, but his hands start trailing all over your legs. You barely have time to register Kai slipping a hand down between the line of your thighs so he can strum his fingers down your naked slit. A gasp leaves you, Touya tilts his head back and hums, and Kai shoves two fingers inside of you.

Touya squeezes your arms whenever you scream. Kai hadn’t even warmed you up, hadn’t prepped you, he just took what he wanted, just put himself inside of you. Sometimes he does that, and you’re not wet enough to accommodate his long fingers but it doesn't seem to bother Kai.

“She’s mine. Don’t you forget that. I was assigned to her. Me. You aren’t even supposed to be here.”

Tears are welling in your eyes, spilling over the lips, trickling into the apples of your face, salty, soaking. Touya moves his hands, one cupping a breast and the other locating your barely pulsing clit. You’re not even that aroused right now. But you want them. You feel made for them both, like a wishbone shredded down the middle. Circles are rubbed into your clit, soft, delicate. It’s like Touya doesn’t want to force you. It’s a stark contrast to Kai’s furious pumping. He’s so ferocious, and the way his face keeps rippling back into wrinkles and snarls makes your knees weak.

You’ve always been a little afraid of your guardian angel.

“Yeah, well, sorry to let you down. She wants me here, don’t you, little dove?”

You just limply nod.

It makes Kai terrifying.

“Don’t say another word. She’s mine for the rest of eternity.”

You blink.

“Kai. You said we’d only be together until I died. I can be Touya’s until I die too, right?”

Both pause to look at you. It’s an uncomfortable few seconds that stretch on so agonizingly, but Touya breaks the silence by guffawing. He laughs so hard that he shakes you, metal pops off of his face, he’s lost some of his staples, his burn scars shift, and the hand on your clit presses down harder. His accidental spit sprays on your shoulders.

“Oh! Ohhh, pretty boy, you didn’t tell her?”

You turn your head to stare at Touya.

“Tell me what?”

Touya’s teal twinkles.

“You gonna tell her or should I reveal your secrets?”

Kai remains silent.

“Touya. Touya, what are you talking about?”

It’s like an explosion whenever Touya begins laughing again, blood trails from the corners of his eyes, and he begins jerking you off again.

“How many times have you had sex with Chisaki? With me? A shit ton?”

You’re awkward whenever you nod, but Touya eats it up.

“Little dove, that means you’re like us now. You ain’t dying anytime soon.”

He doesn’t elucidate further, but he doesn’t need to for the horror to start settling into your bone marrow. You’re sure you look horrified, and you are, that’s abhorring to hear, macabre, and you feel a tingling forlorn whisper tickle down from the shells of your ears down your flesh. It’s regret, but it’s sin, it’s accidents, it’s lies, it’s lust, it’s love, it’s everything and more. Touya’s fingers are deft, and you start moaning despite it all. Kai’s fingers are like dead weight inside of you, but they twitch, they twitch and suddenly you’ve never felt more on fire. You’re gasping, falling into Touya’s hold, and Kai starts to draw in closer. Both eyes wrench shut—you don’t want to look at them, but Kai whispers.

“You weren’t supposed to find out like this, angel.”

It doesn’t soothe you.

Touya’s gone again.

“Come off it, Chisaki. You’ve been lying to her since the day she was born.”

Kai’s golden honey is sweet whenever you open your eyes, addicting, and it’s too sticky to escape, sinking in.

“Because she was born to be mine.”

His fingers start moving again, finally, and you see his hard cock bounce by a fraction. It’s hard to swallow. Touya’s laughs are driving into soft groans, and he’s just shaking his head and letting it rest within the cove of your neck.

“Oh, dove. What have you gotten yourself into?”

Wine wings expand out into the night.

“I don’t know.”

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funficwriter · 1 year ago

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A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Chapter 2: Will the Chaperone Approve?

A/N: WHO'S READY FOR C2?! I hope you guys enjoy this :D

Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Controlling/abusive parents, discrimination (towards Wrio), sexism, reader has a breakdown, yandere themes.

Your parents loved the idea of you taking a vacation not to rest, but because 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. They were clearly referring to the nobles, who would only pine more if you were unavailable for a while.

Last night, you all returned from Belleau, warmly welcomed by the main manor's staff. Your favorite among them was your governess, Agatha; Though she generally listened to your parents' instructions, she occasionally broke some rules for you. That night, she waited until everyone else was asleep to bring you some cake, in exchange for you telling her about the nobles.

"And what about Duke Arya? I know you looooove braggarts!

"No way! All he does is talk about himself like he's Focalors!".

And you'd both laugh. You loved how Agatha has evolved to be a mother figure to you. It was unfortunate when she had to go and let you sleep, but oh well.

You knew this time would come; It was the morning, and you saw a servant bring tea to the room where your parents read the declarations of courting that were received over the vacation.

"Pierre, please call my daughter here. We must discuss something of the utmost importance.".

The servant would nod, your status as a young maiden really hammering home the point. You walked in, a little unnerved by the warm smile your parents sported, but better that than scowling.

Your mother was the first to talk: "Ah, good morning Y/N. You look as beautiful as you ever did.".

Your father, always thinking ahead, had to add on: "Indeed, so beautiful to make half the Court's dukes turn their heads!".

He let out a loud, victorious laugh. Maybe it would take you a while to get used to this pride for you. You sat down, looking over the small stack of papers. It was truly fascinating, in a weird sense: All these crests and emblems, clearly signaling many different gentlemen... And they all shared the same recipient sitting right in front of them.

"So as per custom, your mother and I have looked over most of them. We've already scrapped the ones from barons, since you can clearly marry up with your amount of choice!".

Was there choice? While it was true that you had a smidge of a say, it was just that. Furthermore, that smidge had to be based on standing, finances and the criteria deemed 'important' for your marriage. Love was not on the list. Maybe a word tossed around or an act indulged in, but nowhere near the other criteria.

How would they react if you told them who you truly wanted to marry? How would they like their daughter throwing away business owners, legacy holders and other 'fancier' nobles for the one who dealt with the backdoor business of Fontaine? No matter, you decided to use that 'smidge' to the best of your ability.

"I'm glad to see I can marry up.".

"Yes, yes. Now look here, my dear. Your mother likes Count Evermore, since he seemed sweet with you...".

And off your parents went off, comparing this Lord and that important person to the other. There was whose business would last longer, which last name had more history, which was cleaner... After the third new name, your mind fazed out to Wriothesley. You wanted to be courted by Wriothesley. You wanted to say yes to Wriothesley. Screw the Evermores, Archadelles, Demauris... Being a queen itself did not compare to being his Duchess of Meropide.

"There are still a couple of unread letters, though...".

"Eh, I don't know. My heart's already set on Archandelle or Evermore... But we'll see these too. There's Dukes and Viscounts, which is good...".

It was as if timing synced up. Your mother grabbed an envelope featuring a wolf crest. No, the wolf he wears right under his shoulder.

It seemed relatively short, but the text must be good. Your mother looked pleased for a minute.

"Oh, my! Gentlemen who are this sentimental about their potential wives are quite rare! Oh...".

When she got to the sender's signature, the dreamlike effect waned off of her. It was as if she was hoping someone else had sent this one. Your father took one look at the crest and understood it all. Nevertheless, he still read it. For now, playing a little dumb (as any good girl should be, in their opinion) sounded like the best option to prod.

"Who is that, father?".

He took a deep breath and looked at it as he answered: "Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. (he chortled) I wonder if he took writing classes while we were away?".

You didn't know how to feel anymore. At first, your despair was replaced by the sheer joy his name brought you. Yes, that was the one you loved best! And you saw some of his past written inquiries, he was always well-spoken and eloquent. Why was your father insinuating that the opposite was normal? You wanted to see it and compare it to what he wrote to your grandfather.

"By the way, Y/N, there's something we must ask you. During our last party, you were seen chatting in a rather... Animated fashion with him. What were you talking about?".

Crap. You should have expected gossip to fly around and narrow your parents' eyes at you. You went with the safe answer: "Mostly books and music. He likes going to the opera whenever he can.".

"But we don't see him often, so I'm presuming he's not always free, is he dear? I was frankly shocked that he even came to the party.".

You knew they'd be nitpicky about even nobles who fit their bill, let alone someone considered 'atypical'. But did anyone see you two leaving? Heart thumping in fear, you prayed to Focalors that they just heard of you two talking and nothing else.

"I mean... Mother, father, while he may not be the most typical Duke, he's still an important component in Fontaine's justice and security. Haven't you noticed crime rates have plummeted ever since he took over? Just like Count Evermore, he holds justice close to his heart.".

Your mother nodded, seeing your point of view, before turning to your father: "I prefer other gentlemen, but she's not entirely wrong. We want her to be with someone who exemplifies Fontaine's core values, just as she embodies them.".

"Yes, yes. We might take that into consideration, but listen to me, Y/N...".

You were so sick of these lectures, but it seemed like your point might hold weight. Grin and bear it. Grin and bear it for him.

"We'll want to consider as many as we can, then narrow down the choice, which will happen after the next event. However, we've raised you to know the best options. You know there are many, many better options laid out to you right now. Unless something happens and they fall from grace, for example, keep the bulk of your attention on the Dukes we have discussed most.".

"...Yes, Father.".

He called out to his wife: "Aren't I right? Isn't what I'm saying the core of successful marriage?".

"Yes, yes, my dear. Though she'll entertain many conversations, she'll focus on our best options. And I must say, it's entertaining how we didn't have to do that much narrowing down, since she's got choice.".

He smiled fondly at you: "Indeed. I know we've raised a fine, young lady. Only at her social debut and she's already brought us so much praise.".

For years, you had yearned for this moment; Your parents smiling like the ones in the fairy tales, kindly praising you and reminding you that they loved you. Had you had this recognition a couple of years ago, you'd readily accept whatever husband they threw at you. But at this stage, it was too little, too late. Your heart has already been captured by Wriothesley, your thoughts invaded by him and no amount of love (Which, conveniently, only arrived after their 'investment' paid off) could change that. You focused on the bright side of seeing him again, and the chance he'll get of putting a good impression to your parents. A Duke was well-versed in that, especially if he liked the lady in question.

The servant knocked: "Forgive me for disturbing this important discussion, but young Lady Y/N's tutor has arrived and inquired as to whether she has lessons for today or not.".

"Oh heavens no! You should get going, my dear. Skipping lessons would be the last thing you need!".

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"That sounds like quite a feat of courage on your part, Duke Archandelle!".

"Indeed, Baron Balthazar. But it might not be courage so much as enjoying the hunting season.".

You did not like this arrangement; Your parents and yourself were with Duke Archandelle, the two men chatting away. Within its course, your father seemed happier and happier, which was bad for you. He's looking for any Duke to pick over Wriothesley, and if Archandelle is 'too good' per say, you know who you're getting paired off with and it's not the one you makes you swoon, laugh, or question the deeper nuances of life. Not the one you love.

"You remind me a bit of myself in my younger years. It's a rite of passage to go after the largest deer your group can find.".

"And the night that followed was equally as thrilling. (he gave you a slight glance) We watched a gorgeous ballet number at the Opera. The Lady of Cooler Waters, I believe.".

The mention made your parents more excited. Here was a kind, courteous gentleman who helped you watch your step, who enjoyed the hunting season and the arts in the same day. Manly, but not brutish. Basically, a perfectly adjusted and balanced gentleman.

A knockoff version of my Wriothesley. How thrilling.

Speak of the devil, tufts of black and silver hair appeared in the sea of blondes. They were twisting around, as if their head was turning around a lot to look for something. In the end, it was someone, and there he was, looking so broodingly handsome and making every other man in the room look average at best. His blue eyes scanned the room, and once they landed on you, it was over for the both of you.

You wanted to swim in those cold eyes until you got hypothermia. You wanted to be thrown into their cool pond and feel the temperature restart your system. But what a paradox took place; Once he found you, your heart felt ready to explode on the spot, and your temperature was rising rather quickly. The once-light dress now felt stuffy. If you fainted, how would you explain this to your parents? You saw his own pupils dilate and his stoic expression break out into an enchanted smile that meant a million more than your parents' or that stupid Archandelle's.

He's here. He looks so handsome. His smile is so cute and gorgeous. Why can't he just come in and join our conversation? Stupid high society social codes!

You could tell that he was trying to get close, already in conversation with a few others nearby. Though they were trying to focus on what he was saying, they were gazing - either in surprise or in prejudice - at his wolf ears.

So rude! So ignorant and incapable of realizing that he's far more handsome that he ever will be!

Once Archandelle left to catch up with a friend (not before obnoxiously letting you know that he wants to talk to you again), a bit of freeway opened up for Wriothesley. Ever the go-getter, you didn't doubt that he'd take it.

"Ah, Baron Balthazar, you picked quite the lovely night to plan this.".

Your father smiled, although it looked rather forced. You bet he wouldn't look like that if it was any other noble: "Duke Wriothesley! What a pleasant surprise, we were worried that you might not make it!".

"Oh? Well, I've always had a penchant for surprising people. How do you do, Madame Balthazar?".

Your mother exchanged pleasantries in the same tense way your father did, her eyes narrowing down on his ears. No wonder he was so happy when you expressed appreciation for lycanthrope culture; Everyone else was being such a jerk about it, and you wondered how he lived side by side with it. Maye you can ask that later.

Though he talked to your parents, you couldn't avoid his gaze. He didn't like a lot of the people here, them included (not that you could blame him). He didn't come here for them, but for you. Enough with the pleasantries, he decided.

"I think by now, you know of my feelings regarding the beautiful young Lady Balthazar. And so, I couldn't let myself show up without a present for her.".

He handed you a small, silver box; Sleek, minimalistic but with a beauty that didn't need the other nobles' gaudiness to shine. You opened it to find a silver bracelet (how did he guess your wrist size, anyway?!) adorned with the same wolf emblem he wore.

Deep breaths! Deep breaths! Don't faint or blush, act normal!

After one, you finally got to talk: "Oh, Your Grace! I-I... Forgive me for my lack of speech, it's splendid!".

Your original plan was to not be too excited by him, but could you really help it? A few other nobles got you presents, too, but you had to question your class' taste in what a lady would like. This was just perfect. If it weren't for your parents, you'd wear it right now, but you had to control yourself.

Your father coughed: "Hem! Er- Thank you for the thoughtful gift, though one would deem it a bit too confident to have their crest on it... Say, how are things at the Fortress?".

He had the urge to punch this annoying old man. Here you were, happy and frickin adorable over wearing his crest, already so eager to demonstrate who you belong to, then here comes the Baron to shut this moment down.

"Pretty stable for now. We aren't receiving many new inmates. Perhaps people are losing interest in crime, in which case, that's a victory for Fontaine.".

"Mhm. Yes, indeed. We have much to thank you for, especially your service. I can imagine it's a hard job.".

He chuckled a little, stealing whatever gaze he could at you (man, he felt like he was reverting to his young thief self): "Not necessarily. Most people behave, and you learn quite a bit. I'm still rather young for a Duke, but ever since I started, I've become much better at protecting what matters to me.".

As he talked, it was more obvious that by 'what matters', that included you. Now the image was stuck in your head: You, in danger for whatever reason, and him dashing in to save you and proclaim that you're his drive, his love, what matters to him the most. This sounded like your fairytale prince. Did anyone in your manor think that way of you? Did you even matter to the other nobles beyond potential unions with a historic and important name?

"I'll cut to the chase, Your Grace, since my daughter is the biggest reason behind the last two events. Say you two married; Would she always be what matters to you? Do keep in mind that that's a heavy proclamation.".

The beautiful thing about Wriothesley was that he was ready for such questions. Most nobles hired a conversation coach to 'deal with the maiden's father' so they could speak well in front of him, thus swaying his opinion in their favor. Wriothesley was genuine. Earnest. He only needed himself to back up his claims.

"I said it, and it will always apply. If you know me well, you'll notice, dear Baron, that I'm a man who finds principles that work and sticks to them. The same applies to deciding my priorities, even if other people may not see what I see.".

"What do you mean by that?".

"I myself was always interested in being married, but you know how the start of a career is; So hectic, you can barely think of anything else. I could see where the rumor of me losing interest in companionship came from. Now that I'm more established on several aspects, I can focus on my own personal goals, including being a good husband."

"Yes, indeed. It does take a gentleman a while before he gets married. And considering your important position, I can presume my daughter will be taken care of?".

Perhaps you should look into a Kamera, to always have a picture of that sweet smile: "Without a flicker of a doubt. And I know courtship should take a while. Please take all the time you need to decide. Should you want to know anything that you think might impact the process, please let me know.".

You wanted to declare victory; He could stand against Duke Archandelle and (at least) make the choice harder for your father.

"Do forgive me suspicion, dear Duke, but does what matters to you extend to... you know... People who aren't, of your ilk?".

Oh no. Oh no, no, no please...

As he said 'of your ilk', he pointed at his own head, referring to Wriothesley's wolf ears. You could feel your love tense up, but keep his cool for another reason besides you; Hybrids were held to such an unfair standard. One trace of annoyance or anger from them and everyone would talk about how 'they're too dangerous to live in human society!'.

"Pardon, my ilk? We're all noble Fontainians here.".

"Oh, I can tell you only come with chivalry and good intentions. But I must point out that even if I'm just a Baron, 'Balthazar' is among Fontaine's oldest and most noble names. People look up to us even more than the average noble family, including our unions and bonds. So marriage has always been a very tricky thing for us, even with close humans.".

Both of you tensed up, and you had to fight back tears. While there was still a chance, technically, you father was alluding to rejecting this pairing, possibly in favor of another Duke.

This is unfair. This is so unfair, and you never wished to not be a noble until tonight. No, you wished you had no parents, that way you could control your fate a bit more, even if people gave you the side eye. Even by noble standards, he was husband material! You wouldn't have to move a finger as his wife. You'd be touted as important, as 'a lady of justice' since that's what your husband is involved in. But no, your parents just have to shut their eyes and ears and call all the shots in relation to you-

Oh, Focalors, what did I do so wrong for you to let me be born as their daughter? Wouldn't it be better if I were just his prisoner? Even now, a prisoner is more his than me!

BOOM!

A loud sound resonated from one of the gardens. The music's abrupt stop further panicked many people, some leaving the ballroom to see what's going on, others peering over the balconies. Your parents belonged to the first camp. A hand immediately grabbed yours; It was Wriothesley's.

"Quick, we're on limited time!".

You both made a dash for a spare room nearby. He closed the door and finally caught his breath. Before you could ask what he was doing, he lunged to embrace you in his arms, the sheer strength making you gasp.

"Okay, listen. I need to tell you two things, okay? They're very important...".

He stopped to pant again.

"Wriothesley, what's going on?".

"A friend of mine made a diversion to buy us time. I can't say these things in front of your parents.".

You nodded.

"First of all, starting tonight and per usual courtship processes, your parents might be spying on what mail you get, so our communication will be halted if they find out... If they find out what we say to each other. But I have a way to keep it up. Can you stay up for a bit to see it, maybe around 12 or 1 AM?".

"Certainly, certainly! If it helps us keep talking, I will!".

Even with the stress rushing through him, your eagerness brought on a multitude of emotions. Gosh, you were so cute. It wasn't enough for you to be so adorable early on, and his own personal type, was it? Your reaction made it clear that he wasn't the only one feeling this way. He was glad that the first plan would work out.

"Thank you. It's vital if we wish to be together. It doesn't sound like I can hold up to the competition your Father has for me-".

The allusion to him not being enough was the last straw for tonight.

"Don't say that, don't say that again! He doesn't know anything about what makes a good man, alright? He demonstrated that enough tonight! You're worth a million more of these stupid other men, okay?!".

He knew ladies were capable of being angry, but something about seeing it in real life, for the first time, was astounding. And yet deep down, he saw the outburst coming. Between your shaking hands and teary eyes, and how much you had to hide them from your father... His heart broke a little at seeing the love of his life so anguished, her tears dripping down quicker than she could wipe them.

"It's so obvious he doesn't care! He'll gladly excuse poor table manners or slimy behavior in general, but when someone just happens to be a bit different, that's when he says 'no sale' and shuts me up! 'We care about good repute and you', my foot! It's all about his name and what he wants... Why does my say not matter? Why?".

You didn't want Wriothesley to see you in this state so early, but after tonight's tension, you just couldn't. You were so sick of living with your shots being called for you. For so long, life was horribly dull, depressing through the lens of a growing child. When you finally found someone who washed away that grey and exposed you to the color of life, you were told you were forbidden from having it ever again. You had to follow the life script your parents wrote, your happiness be damned.

Your sobs racketed up and down, before quieting when you felt his weight on you; Slowly, warmly and lovingly.

"Star of my life... I'm so sorry for how tonight went. Believe me, I wanted to punch him. I hate how rigid this social code is, even more on you...".

You just realized that this was the first time he touched you beyond holding your hand. When you were young, you imagined your favorite chimney in the house to be the warmest place in the world. Oh how wrong you were, but to be fair, you couldn't have known before he took you in his arms; A fortress and a hearth all at once.

"I'm so sorry... You know, I was about to tell you the second thing, which I believe may help you...".

"What is the second thing?".

He slightly detached himself, though still holding you, to look deep into your eyes and silently swear upon those beautiful orbs: "By the name of Focalors and my own as the Duke of Meropide, you will be mine. We will end up together and you'll forget the names of the other men. Yes, we'll face some hiccups along the way. But in the end, all your other suitors will fall, one way or another. And once that happens, we'll be looming over them, with you in my arms for the rest of our lives.".

"Wriothesley... Forever?".

"Yes. We'll never have to face a dull day again. Forever. Forever, until Fontaine keels over and becomes dust.".

Your breath slowed down. He sounded so serious, and you wanted to believe in it. This man's caliber was an exceptional one, and something told you that once he made a promise, he kept it until he withered.

He leaned in a little and so did you. Your time was probably out, but you'll be damned if you can't enjoy it. You were closer, and closer, taking in his scent of cedar and myrrh until...

"That explosion was scary!"

"Shows you that commoners have no concept of watching over their kids.".

The nobles were slowly filing back into the ballroom. Wriothesley let out a quiet 'Goddamnit!", before looking through the door. Once the camp was clear, you left earlier, armed with the lie he gave you: "Oh, I lost my parents and I was so scared!". Perfect for a fragile, innocent maiden. The party went on, and you started questioning what the new way of communication would look like. The 'spying' aspect brought a bit of amusement to your mood, which you needed.

----------------------------------------------------------

12:49 AM

Wriothesley ended up being right about your parents controlling your mail. One letter from a male classmate ended up opened and half-torn on fear that he was a rival suitor, before they read the hasty message asking you about a homework assignment. You presumed he's seen many courting processes (perhaps wondering when did he get to be the groom?) and understood their workings well.

The letter you were writing was almost complete. You felt a little clearer in the head after venting out on paper, albeit still very sad. Your father really, really wanted to pair you with Duke Archandelle. But Wriothesley was so determined, even risking his friend - and himself, should they snitch him out - to tell you to not lose hope. For now, all you could do is wait for the 'new method of communication'.

In the meantime, you tried to play a little guessing game to keep your mind off of everything, but to no avail. You also wore the wolf bracelet, its sheen reminding you of his piercing eyes and silver tufts. Your thought of train was about to restart until you heard a small bark.

"Huh?".

Save for the security Dobermanns you often have, dogs were not allowed in the manor. Were you perhaps just thinking about your own dog-like lover too much?

"Arf!"

This one was much louder, and on the left side of the table. The source of the barks was an adorable husky puppy, smiling and approaching you. He wore a collar with the Duke's crest on it, and a sort of paper backpack which you presumed had Wriothesley's message for you.

"Awwwww, you're so cute!!".

You weren't often exposed to dogs, but nevertheless you took it in your arms to pet it. His color scheme reminded you so much of Wriothesley, you wondered whether it could be him in his animal form. The collar was double-sided: The back had 'Frosty' written on it in clumsy handwriting that you knew wasn't the Duke's.

"Frosty? Were you sent by Duke Wriothesley of Meropide?".

He barked again, as if confirming your questions. You took out the 'backpack' to find an actual letter, a whistle wrapped up in another note which read:

ABOUT FROSTY

Y/N, excuse my handwriting and format, I'm writing this in a hurry. Before you ask, Sigewinne named the pup. She wanted to name him 'Wriothesley The Second', originally, then settled with 'Frosty' since that was the closest compromise we found. I rescued him from drowning two weeks ago and planned to hand him over to a reputable shelter, until I noticed his smarts. He's delivered my mail efficiently, even if it was his first time going to a new place. He knows where we both live, and answers to the whistle enclosed with him. Use it if you need to send me anything, especially something urgent. You will be my wife soon, so we should get into the habit of good communication. Don't hesitate to tell me anything, especially if it terrifies or excites you. I always have an ear for you.

Wriothesley.

Archons, Wriothesley was so cute. He looked so tough but you could always count on him to decide on such a way. You attached your own letter and pet Frosty one more time before he disappeared into the night.

'You will be my wife soon...' Will I, Wriothesley? Will I really see a day where I'll wake up with you by my side, and not bemoaning my being alive, but thanking my stars for the arrangement?

You two will be together. You weren't sure how many more boring dates you had to go to with Archandelle, but as Agatha told you: All was in due time. It had be a matter of when, not if, the promise was fulfilled and you would no longer belong to your father. Oh, you could hardly wait for that day. For one you'll be wearing the bracelet he gave you. That day would also have sweets, love and definitely not him.

#wriothesley x reader #yandere wriothesley x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere reader #genshin fontaine x reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years ago

Note

Hello, I noticed you did a yandere merman story before. Can I ask for a similar idea, but it's slightly different. Can I request a Yandere Merman x Female Pirate Captain Reader?

Female Pirate Captain reader finds a map in a bottle with a location for buried treasure. However, it says it’s supposed to be deep underwater, being impossible to reach. However, she comes upon a merman, and makes a deal with him; Use his powers to create a bubble for her to go underwater, and they’ll split the treasure.

So, the Merman agrees, and creates a large air bubble for the Female Pirate Captain reader to breathe in and pushes it deep underwater. Soon, they arrive at the supposed location: An empty underwater cave. The Female Pirate Reader questions her guide, who reveals the truth. HE was the one who made the map and has been secretly a Yandere for her, following her ship for years now. This was all a ploy to capture his darling in a bubble and bring his darling underwater for him to keep.

Yandere Merman x Female Pirate Captain Reader

“Wait, what do you mean? That was you? Did you seriously orchestrate this whole journey just so you could trap me, here?”

“Yup!”

The merman giggles swimming in circles around your bubble, a psychotic grin on his scaly face. You glare at him as you piece it all together, cursing yourself as you fully feel the weight of the situation.

Just hours before you had convinced your right-hand man that killing this merman was not the right call. Hours before you convinced your crew that this would have been the big haul…the last mission for many of them. That letter spoke of a treasure beyond measure with a diamond clinking within the dry confines of the floating wine bottle. You sat down with your aging and war-torn crewmates and brought them on this journey with promises of hope for their families, for their debts. All for it to be some elaborate scheme to capture you. Just you. Leaving your crew captainless and without a smidge of treasure.

“This is because you’re…in love with me..right?”

“That is what I said.”

You ignored the tone in his voice as you made your plea.

“Can you…tell them what happened?”

The mermaid raised an eyebrow tilting his head to the side as he watched you fidget. Fighting tears and the crack in your voice you went further.

“Like..can you tell them that there isn’t any treasure and that I’m not coming back.”

The merman brought a hand to his chin, tail lightly swishing around your bubble. His eyes were closed as he looked to be in deep thought before blinking one yellow eye open.

“Haha nope.”

Crestfallen you swallowed your tears as the merman swam in circles rolling with delighted laughter. You waited until he was done to try pleading with him again.

“You don’t have to say I survived I just want them to go home! Don’t you want that too!? For them to leave…us to our devices?”

“Hahaha, I do!” You lightened up. “But no.” Your frown returned.

He giggled twirling playfully as he spoke, “If I go back up there they’ll shoot me down without you. Plus if they despise you they’ll never come back! And that works so much better!”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you glared harder.

“So what?! Your plan is to keep me in this bubble until I starve to death!?”

The merman stopped taking note of your accusation, before putting his hands on his hips.

“Do you think me so cruel, when I already told you I loved you?” He picked up a seashell harshly pulling out the creature living in it, before flinging it into your bubble. The shell rolls to touch your boot to which you sneer at the gooey residue of the poor animal, scooching away.

“Don’t worry food can get in just fine. And eventually, when you’re ready we’re going to walk to an underwater cave, where we’ll live out the rest of our days.”

You let your mind wander turning away from the merman who was laughing to himself as he replayed the fantasy in his head. Smirking to yourself, you held a hand over your face as you made a decision. A decision to do what you do best as a pirate captain.

“Well, merman you have me pegged…I guess I really don’t have a way to defy you.”

“That’s right! Might as well just accept your fate!”

“I mean maybe I should…but I have one more question if you would humor me.”

A look of interest appeared on his face as he swam closer, “I’m…listening.”

“Does the way things come in work on things coming out?”

Eyes dart to the right.

“Yeah.”

“Oh?”

With no hesitation, you drew your sword aiming for the clear barrier. Stopping when the merman frantically waved his hands as he got as close as possible.

“What are you doing?! That could kill you, by the pressure alone!”

“I thought you said it would go out the same?”

The merman groaned, “Okay maybe not but are you really going to kill yourself just to spite me?!”

“Ha not without a price…”

“...what do you want?”

“You’re going to go back up there, tell my crew what the deal is. You can stay out of range of the cannons and harpoons. Just tell them the truth. Can you do that?”

The merman pouted holding your gaze without blinking as if in hopes to deter you, only to fall short when you didn’t falter. Dragging his webbed hands across his face he groaned.

“Fine. Wait here.”

You watched as he swam away pretending to sheath your sword. Pulling it out again when he was far out of sight.

“Now the only decision left…is if I’m going to risk it.”

A captain always makes tough decisions ones that play with their life and others that prey on the enemy.

#yandere merman #yandere x reader #pirate reader #yandere mermaid #yandere x you #yandere boy #yandere merman x reader

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takami-takami · 2 years ago

Text

Masterlist

(Order: newest top –> oldest bottom)

Writings

🪽 sugar confectionary

You Keep Sawdust for Starlight. || gn!reader. comfort.

Anew. || gn!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. loss of wings and regrowth. nightmares. keigo tends to your wounds. blood description.

Like Idiots. || gn!reader. fluff. pining like idiots. keigo is a pain in the ass. the reader is worse. i had fun with this.

A Dog Unfed. || gn!reader. angst. hurt/comfort. animal abuse analogy. discussion of drugs and cravings. be warned and avoid this if you need. sorry for spoiling the subtext lol, but it needs a tw. though, i encourage you to apply this however you feel it apply. perhaps we all have a dog.

Happy Birthday. || hawks. severe angst. hurt/no comfort. very grotesque trauma reaction. emeto. blood. ptsd. i cannot stress enough to be careful and avoid this if it's triggering.

Roost and Repair. || gn!reader. comfort. anxiety (could be from anything). keigo taking care of you.

Father. || gn!reader. angst. reverse hurt/comfort. past abuse. substance use. trauma.

Pet Shop. || gn!reader. fluff. you and keigo visit a pet shelter to adopt! so cute!

I Think I Love You. || gn!reader. fluff. keigo is in denial. tooth rotting fluff.

Sanctuary. || gn!reader. comfort/fluff. stressed reader. long days and loving arms. keigo is good at massages.

Alley Cat. || gn!reader. hurt/comfort. ptsd. trauma. panic. abuse. breathing exercises. genuinely be careful.

Stray Dogs Will Crawl Home. || gn!reader. angst (with a happy ending). breakups. keigo's trauma because i can't give this man a break and he needs to heal.

Nightmares. || gn!reader. angst. reverse hurt/comfort. ptsd. trauma. self harm. nightmares. touch starved!keigo. be careful and know your limits!

Let Me Take Care of You. || gn!reader. hurt/comfort. brief unhappy childhood/life mention. keigo making you feel safe if you'd just let him :(

🪽 spice cabinet

Like a Candle at Both Ends. || gn!reader, but they use a strap. sub!keigo. double penetration with a twist. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. dacryphilia. cum as lube. slight feminization (of keigo). slight degradation. some brattiness. face-sitting mentioned.

Fixation. || afab!reader. sub!keigo. reader uses a strap. gratuitous oral. hazy under the pulls of subspace, a needy keigo makes a show of drooling on the strap.

How To Fix the Ache. || gn!reader. virgin!keigo. masturbation. slight primal play. a sexually frustrated keigo goes home to jerk off after your dates, and he's real cute about it. he tries so hard to be a good boy.

Sweet, Sweet Indulgence. || gn!reader. sub!keigo. corrupting the sweet boy till he's addicted to edging himself <3. hand jobs. masturbation. edging. desperation. brief mention of oral.

Crybaby. || gn!reader. dom!keigo. orgasm denial. edging. subspace. dacryphilia. dumbification. some degradation. keigo being mean. chewtoy reader.

Pretty Predictable. || f!reader. dom!keigo. dumbification. degradation. keigo loves you so bad.

Best In Show. || masc petnames. dom!keigo. heavy petplay. puppy play. collaring. oral.

Baby, I'm All You Need. || f!reader. a bit toxic!keigo. he's clingy. <3. a smidge of yandere. dirty talk. abandonment issues. rough sex. degradation. mirror sex. reader is way too into it.

Accidents. || gn!reader. daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.

Can't Help Myself. || gn!reader. rut. breeding kink. biting. keigo getting lost in the sauce and trying (failing) to be nice. he can't help himself :(

Mine, Now. || fem petnames. cuckholdry. steal your girl. hawks is a lovesick puppy and not very nice here but i think that makes him cuter.

Pretty Boy, Pretty Hands. || afab!reader. fingering. excessive hand kink. hint of dumbification.

Thoughts

comfort + angst + fluff drabbles

Cute Things Hawks Does || gn

Hawks Unknowingly Pining || gn

Hawks and Snuggling || gn

Hawks and Sexual Trauma Support || HEED THE TAGS, TW

Hawks Spoils You || gn

Hawks and His Babies || gn

Kei and Makeup || gn, reader uses makeup

This One Is Just Mentally Ill || gn

Caregiver Hawks and Age Regression || gn

Hawks and Paternal Trauma Support || gn

Hawks and Substance Use Support || gn

Hawks and Father's Day Struggles || gn

Hawks Is Patient With Trauma || gn

Hawks Can't Help But Give Kisses || gn

Tell Hawks You Love Him || gn

Hawks Taking Care of You || masc petnames

Hawks Marriage Essay || gn

Sleepy Nights With Hawks || gn

Hawks Alpha Headcanons || gn

Hawks is a Good Alpha || gn

Drying Hawks' Wings || gn

Hawks and His Child Self || gn

Thirsts

smut + suggestive drabbles

Vash

Vash Says Marry Me || fem petnames

Hawks

Hawks Losing It Over You || gn

Hawks and Cock Humiliation || gn

Gentle Sadist!Hawks || gn

Happy Daddy's Day! || afab

Masochist!Hawks || gn

Hawks NSFW Alphabet || gn

Hawks Being a Menace || gn

Hawks Losing His Virginity Thoughts || gn

Even More Post Nut Clarity || gn

Hawks' Hands Are... || gn

Infecting Hawks With Kinks || gn

Hawks Has A Big Cock, Sorry || gn

Hawks and Scent Kink || fem clothes

Puppyboy!Hawks || gn

Hawks and His Pretty Boy || masc petnames

Bottom!Hawks/Pegging || gn

Hawks and Baby Fever || gn?

Hawks and Vibrators || gn?

Meanie!Hawks || gn

Moving On From Yan!Hawks || gn

Hawks and Edging || gn

Hawks and Snowballing || gn

How Hawks Eats Pussy Pt 2 || afab

Hawks' Chewtoy || gn

Hawks and His Bunny || afab

Hawks and Marking || gn

Hawks and Praise Kink || gn

Random Smut Headcanons || afab

Hawks and Post-Nut Clarity || fem, afab

Bully!Hawks Being Mean || gn

What Hawks Is Like as a Yandere || gn

How Hawks Eats Pussy || afab

Not a drabble but here's a penis essay! Yay!

Events

Hawkstober 2023

Masterlist Here!

Hawks Drabble Event

Masterlist Here!

Opinion Corner

He's So Pretty...

What He Calls His Parents

Hawks' Home

Hawks and Loneliness

Hawks Isn't Lying to Twice

Food and Cooking

Concentrated Comfort

On His Playfulness

Hawks is Not Selfish

On the Commission

Hawks is Misunderstood

Go Be Nice To Him Right Now

He Puts His Job First

Why I Like Him

quips i like (mix of sugar/spice)

Post Here

dark content banishment corner

Dark Content Masterlist

#masterlist

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ofallthingsnasty · 2 years ago

Note

If your inbox is open could I please request a yandere sae where he traps his Darling by getting them pregnant and also this is around the time where he kidnaps them and they get Stockholm Syndrome if you're uncomfortable with this feel free to ignore my request

hey hey!! sure it's pretty much always open 🤗 thank you for giving my brain something to chew on - this really tickled me bc he isn't necessarily the first character i think of when i think yandere bllk! a cold one, for sure 🥶

tags: yandere, sae is 20+, emotional abuse, baby trapping (no pronouns used for reader but they can get pregnant), noncon mention, smidge of unreliable narrator word count: 0.6k

Sae is one thing: selfish. He knows you're here against your will and he simply doesn't care. He gets what he wants. You won't ever know why exactly he picked you out of all the possible people to obsess over because he won't ever treat you like one would a spouse. He's blunt, he's brash, he's an asshole - even to you. He doesn't keep you small on purpose, Sae is just like that. Unlike some others, he doesn't criticize you to snuff out your self-esteem, he truly thinks what he says. You'll learn how to play by his rules and admittedly - he is fair, at least as far as he is concerned. Neither cruel nor sadistic, he simply expects you to conform and be perfect for him. Deviate from his vision for you and he'll let you know- but as long as you are good for him you won't hear a single word.

He actually strikes me as one of the few from Blue Lock who would choose to kidnap you - it's easier and keeps you by his side. He's pragmatic like that. And because Sae doesn't need your love - he simply takes what he wants - he doesn't care for all that lovey-dovey shit, either. Watch him simply lock you away even though you have never talked to each other. He's convinced you're perfect for him and that's enough. He really wastes no time. In his opinion, your predicament isn't all too bad, even beneficial. Isn't this what so many people strive for? Marry rich, be pampered for the rest of your days, no more worries, no more hurt? Really, you should be over the moon to be the spouse of a famous soccer player. He'll tell you as much; that you should be grateful for the roof over your head, that you'll never have to work another day in your life because of him, that you'll have everything you'll ever want - and that being kept like this is the trade-off, that he expect payment from time to time. All your fighting, your scratching, your crying - it doesn't matter to him. It's annoying, sure, but it won't stop him at all. (Although even Sae has his limits. If you keep screaming at him how you don't care for the designer clothes, the expensive furniture and his stupid house, he isn't above showing you what you're taking for granted right now. Some nice, quaint nights in the basement with little food and water and no clothes should set your head straight. Not cruel. Just pragmatic.)

And because he takes such good care of you, he deserves something else in return, doesn't he? A baby is perfect. It's easy to realize that dream - he's expecting sex from you regularly, anyway and never really bothers with birth control. In the beginning, he humored you a little by using condoms (to soften the blow, so to speak) but by now he simply doesn't care anymore. The thought of you pregnant with his child excites him more than he'd like to admit. It isn't necessarily about keeping or trapping you - he just wants to start a little family with you. (And maybe, just maybe, he is actually a tiny bit in love with you, not just obsessed.) He won't tell you of his decision, he simply fucks you more often. But you're smart enough to catch on, with time - too bad you don't stand a chance against a pro athlete when he bends you over for the tenth time this week and tracks your periods, waiting for your fertile window. You can only grit your teeth and take it, terrified of the day he actually knocks you up.

And as always, he doesn't get why you're making such a fuss; you only have to be good for him. He'll take care of you and your child, you'll see.

#blue lock x reader #yandere blue lock #sae itoshi x reader #yandere sae itoshi

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 8 months ago

Note

Another yandere set 2 ask, from yours truly! This is another one inspired by the yandere set 1 asks regarding fatherhood…

How would each of the yanderes’ react/behave during their darling’s labor and post-labor?

I wanna know who’s panicking, composed, excited, etc.

Sorry I got baby fever right now…

Yandere men and their darling in labor and post-labor

Assuming the reader this time is AFAB, or is in an A/B/O situation! By the way, i'm so sorry if i'm moving so slow with the requests! I've been busy lately so i'm trying my best to write.

"Why don't you just close the requests?" True, but some people use the ask box to talk and chat to me without compromising their anonymity. So, I hope you can be patient! I don't really like rejecting asks, so I probably will answer all of them. I know, I can reject them or not answer. I'm working on it lol. Especially that there's a lot of asks like these, which includes all the yandere OCs in a set... It's a bit exhausting. I kind of regret it, but hey, we're here already lol.

I added a section of... You'll know if you read HAHA

YAN! DELINQUENT

Liam will definitely panic. He's sweaty, he's smiling, he's about to blow off his top from the way the nurses were so nonchalant with your labor (It's normal). Can't they see you're about to die (You're contracting)?! Oh god, you can't voice out your pain without you talking (The midwives are not dumb enough to not read body language)! He will swear up and down that no more babies. NO MORE! It's already painful enough seeing you get swarmed by other people, let alone touch you.

Post labor Liam will be calm, fussy, and overprotective. Well, more overprotective than usual. He has a 70/30 chance of fainting, and will praise the gods if you delivered safely.

But, if you died... He will let out a gut wrenching cry by the foot of your bed. The baby won't even be noticed by him as he clenches his chest, sobbing and heaving his heart out. It will take more than days to calm him down, and have the heart to take care of your child. He will love the child, since he knows the child is innocent. But a big, gaping you-shaped hole in his heart is carved painfully in place.

YAN! BULLY

Uno will be the quiet panic-type. He sure is calm... On the inside. He's about to scream and rip the heads off of everyone who's touching you even a smidge wrong. NO MALE HANDS! NEVER! He's never been like this, ever. Even in your wedding, pregnancy, he never panicked. So why now? He's biting his cheeks to the point it bled, and you swore every single nurse and midwife in the delivery ward were yelled at by Uno.

Post-delivery Uno will calm down and act like nothing happened. "See? I know you can do it, nerd." Yeah sure. As if you can't see the blood stained teeth from him biting his cheeks. For the first time, he'll cherish a person other than you. He's so soft that it's new to you too.

If you died, Uno will turn the whole hospital up and down. He'll ruin everything, blame the midwives and nurses for not taking care of you enough, the hospital for lacking the resources to make a safe delivery.... And unfortunately, your child for killing you off. I'm gonna be honest, Uno will be the type to blame the child for your death. So, be healthy, darling!

YAN! NSFW ASMRTIST

Rose would be composed. He knew you were gonna be fine. Of course, nervousness will still be there, but he had enough trust in this hospital that he hopes you and your baby will be fine. That, and all of those breeding roleplays was his fault so he had to be composed since he brought it upon himself.

Post-delivery Rose would be relieved. He's right. And the cute little bugger is so small. He fits just by 3/4's of his arm. Wait, why is the baby so small? Are they really this small? But you were eating quite a lot... He's also a big guy, so the genes..? Is it from you? Or just recessive? He will have many questions. All those pregnancy asmr roleplays didn't really help.

If you died, Rose would feel like the whole world collapsed on his feet. What do you mean you died? He swears you would be okay. That you will be alive and well. He suddenly feels an immense guilt eating him up. Should he have panicked more? Should he have ensured the personnel that you're going to be alright? He sinks to his knees, weeping. He will swear on your body to take care of the baby well.

YAN! ISEKAI'ED ADVENTURER

Aeron is definitely skeptical. Sure, this world has magic, but it doesn't have the technological advancement of the modern world. It's also a world where he can't be with you in the delivery room. So all he could do is pace around the hall as he hears your cries of pain. He'll also cry with you if the delivery was too long for both of your likings.

Post-delivery Aeron will burst through the door and will go to you first. "Are you fine? Do you feel lethargic? Do you feel weak?!" The nurses have to pull him off of you so you can have the baby latch on you. He'll pout, but grips his arm as he watches you and the baby with a fond smile.

If you died... Aeron will regret everything. He knew he should have found a way back to the modern world. Maybe you could have delivered safely. He shouldn't have had a baby with you. A demon king's child will be too much on a mage's body, with all of those mana mixing. The whole hospital will be engulfed in demonic power as he suffocated everyone except his kid. He'll disappear with the child, forever retreating to the Demon realm to raise the kid alone.

YAN! PLAYER

Amor would be excited. He never thought he'll finally get a kid of his own after years and his past life. His parents spoiled him a lot, his guardian angels (gods) spoil him too. And this kid? A product of you and him?! Gods above! That's like, such a blessing! He'll be persistent in asking the nurses and midwives if the kid is there, if you're alright... OH god are you okay? All of these other people touching you... He feels the bile rising up to his mouth. But he knew these people are just doing their job, and then--

Post delivery Amor would be all over you. He'll kiss your face, your lips, your forehead, immediately buy you food you cannot have, and spoil you rotten as you recover. And his kid? Oh his kid is so cute! Look at them. So pretty and small... Is that his nose? Oh they got your eyes! His hair color and your hair texture... Oh they're the perfect mix!

This is one of the rare times were you are guaranteed on not dying... In the backstage, Amor shook the gods on putting so many blessings on your body to make sure your delivery will be safe and easy. That the child will be healthy. So, no deaths at all.

YAN! PARASITE

Acheron will be overly cautious one. He will have you deliver in your home, in his lab, where he transformed it to a delivery ward. He trained in birthing too, so he's as good as professional midwives too. He will be there for you, ensuring that the pregnancy will end well. Because honestly, technically speaking, this child is from this body of his and yours. Not your original body. So he's a bit conflicted.

Post-delivery Acheron is smug. He knew he could handle the delivery well. The baby is healthy, and he's planning on how to make the kid a parasite too. Which can earn your ire or approval, depending on what you want. But now, he's content, and actually loved this little kid, despite knowing the biological composition of the kid.

If you "died", Acheron will be filled with regret too. He wasn't skilled enough. He should've listened and admitted you to a hospital. He'll have to extract the parasite from your body and dump the body, and then find another body for you to inhabit. He'll have to nurse your parasite form to healthy levels first before letting you wriggle into a body. He will be a bit cold to the child though, but a bit more time with him will calm him down.

YAN! EMPEROR

Callisto will only have the best midwives. He'll be overbearing, making sure you WILL be alright. He will, for the first time, be religious and pass by the church to pray that your delivery will be safe. He will force himself in the delivery room. No matter what anyone says. He's the nervous type, biting his nail and barking orders if something even went wrong just a bit.

Post-delivery Callisto will be proud. He's not the type to freak out, he'll just feel the calm washing over him as he showers you with kisses, saying "you did so well", "thank you so much", "Take your time recovering", etc. The baby, he's more or less concerned since he knew the baby will be fine.

If you died though, he'll storm out of the palace, then to the church, and blasphemize the whole place. If he's the chosen one, then why did you die? Why did the love of his life slip past him? After hours of desecrating the church, he will be hell bent on revenge, making the church the enemy. His kid will be not loved, unfortunately. He will neglect them, only providing the bare minimum. Don't get him wrong, the kid will be the heir, but they have to prove himself.

YAN! COLLEGE STUDENT

Alpheus would be the type to be suddenly so overwhelmed with worry. Since he's never been one to feel, the sudden feeling of panic, dread, and worry settled in his stomach. He would probably lay down on the hospital floor, clutching his belly as he rocks back and forth. The nurses and midwives would have to fuss over him before you to the point that you're getting annoyed. He will have to be separated from you, or else he'll probably goes to shock when he hears your pained cries.

When you're done, he goes to your side, crawls beside you, and becomes a clingy mess. He'll apologize, kiss and nuzzle you. He can't believe he subjected you to such a painful ordeal. One child. Just one is enough. He can't have you (and himself) be in this situation again. But the baby is worth it.

When you die, Alpheus will for the first time, cry from grief. It's his first time experiencing something like this, that it overwhelms him. He CANNOT father your child. Unless some divine intervention happens and he'll be fine again. The child will go to his parents, and they'll hope that he'll recover, for the baby's sake and yours up in heaven.

YAN! DEEP SEA CREATURE

Viper's not a worrywart. Since you can't exactly go to the civilization to deliver your eggs safely in time, he would have to let you birth on what's akin to a nest. He'll be there with you, his hands all over your body as he whispers encouraging words to your ears. use his tail as a pillow, who cares. As long as you're comfortable and safe, everything will be fine.

Post-delivery will have Viper give one of his rare smiles. He massages you gently, telling you that you did great, feeding you food, and then fixing the clutch of eggs you birthed. He will have you asleep in no time to rest your weary body as he fusses over the eggs and making sure none of them are wrong.

If you actually died during the birthing process, there will be only two outcomes. If you came to him willingly and you weren't forced to love him, he would take care of the eggs diligently, not wanting to waste your life. If you didn't, let's just say a little cannibalism goes a long way with eggs. Viperfish caviar, anyone?

YAN! HUNTER

Orion will panic throughout your pregnancy. He really thought that he's gonna be the laidback type, knowing you'll be fine and whatnot. But noooo. Now he's here, pacing back and forth in the delivery room as he watches your face wince and cry from the pain. Oh, he almost can't take it anymore. He's begging you to get an epidural. He's really doing it. If you refused, he would shut up and look at you like a puppy kicked. But who cares about him rn? You're giving birth!

Post-delivery Orion will have him faint lol. He'll already wake up when you are cleaned up with the baby also cleaned up. He'll zoom past the nurses and midwives then go to you, where you held the baby up to your breasts to feed. He'll feel a much more overwhelming love in his heart, and he cries his heart out. If it's a clutch of eggs, he'll be starry eyed as he watched the eggs float in an egg incubator, eyes filled with adoration and gratefulness to you.

If you died, he'll be more or less in denial. No way, right? No way you just died like that after giving birth to your precious child/children. You just left them like that? You're so heartless. But deep down, he knew it wasn't your fault. And he goes home that day, eyes hollow, but filled with grief and love for your baby/ies.

YAN! KING

Soma would be pissy. Nobody should talk to him, or he'll blow his top off to them. You were giving birth! Can nobody understand that?! This is a crucial time that it needs his 101%, no, infinity percentage of his attention if that makes sense. He'll also break the rules and be inside the delivery room, letting you hold his hand and even break it. May it be from the pain or from you wanting to exact revenge. Who cares? He'll let you break it if it meant your comfort.

post-delivery Soma would be a lot calmer, and he'll immediately order the people to make you more comfortable, and treat you to make your recovery as fast as possible. Your kid will be given the best amenities, and made sure to have the best upbringing. Hell, he'll have the kid enrolled already and they only got birthed lol.

If you died, he'll be in a stormy mix of emotions. First, grief, second, denial, third, anger, and fourth, relief. Soma knew that what he did to you was wrong and not normal. He doesn't regret it at all. But now that you died when he himself did this to you... As he carries your baby in his arms, he somehow felt relief that you're gone from his clutches, and probably off to somewhere safer than by his side. He will take care of the baby, and he will slowly turn to normal.

YAN! GOD

Technically speaking, Liviticus can just spawn a kid. With the right genetic mix, etc. So it's up to you if you want to go with the nuances of pregnancy. He will be calm. Like, calm calm. It's almost unnerving how he smiles and leads you to an almost fantasy like ward (a forest) laid you down on the delivery bed (a comfortable circle mattress by the foot of a gigantic tree trunk) with helpers in tow (fantastical beasts), and guides you to a safe delivery. You weren't in pain, just a dull ache in your system as you push your child.

Post-delivery Liviticus will have him shower you with the most dazzling display of flowers and sprites dancing around you. The whole forest, and somehow the whole world feeling festive as they made this day a celebration, getting a divine message that the God's child is born. Everyone is ecstatic as they gave thanks to you, and worship you, and give blessings to you.

Again, unlikely to die. Considering your mortal body is dead, and now you're a goddess/god, you cannot die no matter what.

YAN! PROSECUTOR

Yuta was a nervous soon to be father, but he's more or less calm. He's following procedures to a tee, almost robot like. But in reality, he's on autopilot. He already panicked enough internally that he's robotic in your delivery day. You're already worried enough, why would he burden you with his whims and wiles too? He can't afford you getting your mind off of the baby at all. So, he's acting all calm and collected as he held your hand, wishing for everything to be over.

Post-birth Yuta will have him finally break down. At first, all of the personnel around him and you will be shocked as he slumps down to his knees. He doesn't even know why too. Until the tears fell, one by one and he's sobbing from relief. He'll thank you a thousand times, prostrate in front of you, and be spoiling you once you're good to eat. He's truly grateful.

If you die, Yuta will also fall to his knees and sob, but this time from grief as he lost his trusty partner, his true love. Why did he kill all of those people for? Just for you to die? He misses you a lot. He wants to hold you, kiss you again... But all for naught. Mysteriously, the people who helped you give birth died in random patterns. He'll also include others to put the suspicion off of him. But who cares right now? As he cradles your baby and watches the whole midwifery section burn and ensure that no mother dies from giving birth, he sighs, and wishes you were there with him.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere fic #yandere x you

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