#bnha x male! reader

[luviisabella]

“Where are you going?” his voice seemed so rough whenever he was sleepy, not that it bothered you, you found it cute how deep in sleep he was.

You had crawled out of bed after being lucky enough to get out of his grasp. Bakugou’s hands are big but his arms/biceps are a whole other story. “M’ sorry ‘suki, just needed to use the bathroom.” You softly smile seeing him pout and will probably grumble to himself about how you’ve left him there all ‘cold n’ alone’.

You loved that soft side of him. It was like eating a strawberry, seemed a bit sour but once you eat more it’s really sweet. Once you stepped out of the bathroom you crawled right back over him and laid facing away from him. You softly exhaled before closing your eyes until the sudden feeling of you being lifted up startled you. “Kats-“ you whisper, his hands found their way to your waist as he pulled you over on top of him, letting you get comfortable. He gently wrapped his arms back around you.

“No more gettin’ up. Lay down n’ sleep.” he mumbled to what sounded like himself.

You softly smile before lifting your head up to look at him, noticing his eyes were closed you kissed him on the lips and laid your head back against his chest.

You didn’t see it but he had a small smile after the kiss, his grip on you tightening a little.

“Goodnight ‘Suki” you whisper to him.

“Night doll.”

(I reckon he would call you doll because one time you smiled at him and you looked so surreal that the word fumbled out of his mouth on accident so now after you teased him about it he calls you it as a nickname.)

[yanderenightmare]

Yandere Days of the Week

♡ TW: a lot of different stuff today, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, stalking, drugging, alcohol/poisoning, vomiting/forced/emeto, abuse of power, plotting murder, waterboarding-ish, squirting, implied bottle-fucking

♡ FEM reader

♡ INSPO: this by the lovely @yanderedrabbles

Monday is your strict boss.

He’s always breathing down your neck around the office, checking if you come in on time, laying into you when you’re anything but perfectly on the dot—not even allowing you to get settled into your cubicle before dumping a workload onto your desk on top of the one you already have, coming back with a fresh one right after lunch again.

You know you’re probably just being sensitive, but you feel as though he singles you out. Barking at you to redo things, even after you’d gone through the extra measure of running it by a coworker who’d given you the thumbs up. You don’t know, it sort of feels as if he has it out for you.

Being yelled at is already bad enough, not to mention how he’ll demand you work late to make up for the slack. And yet, that’s not even the worst part! 

No, the absolute worst part is that he’ll insist on staying behind, too—to supervise you. 

It’s utterly nerve-wracking. ‘Cause he isn’t only your boss, he’s also sort of… well… really hot. Always dressed sharply in a tailored pin-striped suit and those sharp-tipped newly-polished shoes—hair slick with a fresh barbershop cut and a chiseled face to match.

He smells good, too. And it all just makes it extra awkward for you. Especially when you stay late together, alone. He’ll remove his tie and jacket, then button up his collar and roll up his sleeves—flexing those burly arms of his and that fat wristwatch that’s worth more than your entire life savings. 

That neat hair of his will start to fall apart as the late hours take their toll, getting disheveled and only sexier for it—and the way he’ll drag his ring-clad fingers through it with a groan, looking at you with such a fierce glare, you actually have to calm your breath and suppress the urge to rub your thighs together.

But although his voice is definitely something you could dream about, you could do without it when he talks down to you, always admonishing you, grumbling about what a poor employee you are, how you only give him more work to do, how he should be compensated for it. 

You’re certain he’s going to fire you soon.

And it turns out soon is even sooner than you’d thought or hoped.

This is it, you think, once he calls you into his office. He’s finally going to do it. You’re going to have to find a new job now—without a good recommendation to help you out, no less. Knowing him and how much he despises you, he’ll probably give you a really poor review on top of it all—he might even call around to make sure no one ever hires you again. 

You’re almost about to cry.

“You’re about the worst employee I’ve ever had,” he states, sitting behind his desk with you standing before him, twiddling your fingers while looking sorrowfully down at your heels, hoping he’d have enough mercy to at least make it quick. “But since firing people is fucking impossible nowadays, I’m just gonna haf’to relocate you somewhere else you won’t be damn useless.” 

You look up at that. Tears held back in surprise. 

Wait, so… he’s not firing you?

He sighs, looking through your employee files, making the changes, “And given it’s the only job open right now, starting today, you’ll be my new personal assistant.”

Gathering everything, he brandishes the documents with his signature, then looks up at you while sliding the pen and papers over.

“Think you can handle that?”

Stunned, you only briefly think about how you’re overqualified to be a personal assistant, but at the same time, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, blinded with relief that you hadn’t been sacked.

You just nod your head all prettily, signing just as quickly while vowing, “I’ll try my best, sir.”

He becomes significantly nicer after that—always praising you for a job well done and giving you pretty gifts on top of your paycheck, which, funny enough, is nearly double what it used to be, all the while telling you how lost he’d be without you there keeping his life together. 

You can’t help but let it all go to your head, completely forgetting that you had bigger plans than being an assistant.

He brings you everywhere he goes now. Out of the building on business meetings, out of the country on business trips. Expensive dinners, fancy hotel rooms, big yachts and galas. You can’t complain—too busy picking your jaw up from the floor—too busy to notice his leer and how he plans to keep you by his side for the rest of his life—too busy to understand that when he stays work late, he doesn’t mean doing paperwork.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Enji, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Toji, Higuruma, Kusakabe ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Chrollo

Tuesday is your old classmate who just moved in across the hall. 

It’s a funny coincidence, you both agree, as neither of you lives in your hometown anymore—what a small world, huh?

You’ll meet each other in the mornings when you both set out for work and small talk on your way down the stairs, then up the stairs when coming home again. It’s impressive how often it happens.

He’s always asking for the two of you to catch up—always inviting you over for dinner to talk about old times and what you’ve gotten up to since. 

You never know what to say… You don’t feel like the two of you were all that close during school, so you’ve turned him down each time, hoping if you ask him for a rain check enough times, he’ll eventually just forget.

But after coming home, tired after a grueling Monday and an even harder Tuesday, on top of realizing you didn’t have anything stocked up in the fridge, you end up agreeing to his home-cooked meal when he offers in favor of ordering takeout.

He lights up at once, “Great!”

It’s a bit of an overreaction, you think. But hey, he just moved here—maybe he hasn’t made any friends yet. It’s not easy being in a new place—he’s probably dying for some company. 

Shoot, now you feel a little bad for not having agreed earlier. You remember how it had been yourself when all you ever did was go to work every day—not knowing what else to get up to in the city. Maybe you could give him a hand, tell him about a few places—just to help him get on his feet.

“Yeah, just let me shower and change, and I’ll come over,” you say, unlocking your apartment. 

“Sure thing! See you soon!” he cheers, watching you go with a big beaming smile on his face, only turning around to unlock his own place when you’d closed your door.

He’s a little strange, you can’t help but think—or maybe he’s just that eager. Thinking about it, you don’t remember much about him from college. Honestly, he’s one of those faces that just sort of end up blending into the background. He never made any impact in class or at any parties or other gatherings. You don’t know, he was always rather quiet. You don’t remember him having any friends either. 

But whatever, people change, and he seems nice enough—maybe he was just more concerned with his average. Fucks knows you weren’t.

You shower quickly, not bothering to wash your hair or put on anything too nice. It’s only a Tuesday, after all—it should be casual. A bralette, boxers, baggy T-shirt, shorts, and slippers later, and you pop out the door and knock on his.

He’s quick to answer. “Hey! Come in, come in—it’s almost done!”

“Cool, thanks,” you say. “Smells good.”

He ushers you to take a seat at the tiny kitchen table he has. Similar to yours, actually—these apartments aren’t all that big. Still, his place is poorly furnished. But then again, he only moved in a little while ago, so you won’t judge.

He rushes over with dinner shortly. Spaghetti, meatballs, and red sauce. A classic. You’re not complaining. However, you could have done without the candles and moody lighting. It’s the kind of thing you’d expect from a corny date, but you decide to ignore it.

“Wine?” he offers despite it being only Tuesday. 

You know you probably shouldn’t, but the start of the week has been hard, and you honestly wouldn’t mind the good night's sleep that follows a few glasses of red or anything that would make the affair go over a little more smoothly.

“Sure, why not.”

And yet, it’s still a little awkward. You don’t know what to talk about—you just end up droning on about work, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Then you remember what you’d thought about earlier and start talking about some of the places and things he should check out now that he lives here. You try asking him about his work and why he decided to move here, but he doesn’t seem very interested in talking about himself.

After finishing, it isn’t long before you feel drowsy. You blame it on the wine at first—starting to think it was time you thank him for the hospitality and excuse yourself. But as soon as you get up, you’re already falling over.

No worries, though. He’s been waiting and ready to catch you for a while.

“It took you some time to agree to come—I was afraid you’d never say yes, but I’m glad you finally did… I was about to take other drastic measures…”

You’re so sleepy it’s suddenly impossible to grasp what he’s saying—as well as have any sort of grasp on the situation while you’re being carried bridal style away from the living room, through a door into a very dark room.

“I bet you don’t remember me that well, huh?” he continues as he lays you down on something soft, something that swallows your body in a way you can’t really decide if it feels nice or not. 

He keeps talking while you try to figure it out, “Hm, that’s fine. I remember you very well.”

You connect one and two associations and come to conclude the thing beneath you is a bed. It ripples and dips with the added weight once your neighbor crawls over you. Your body doesn’t yet recognize being alarmed, but something behind the fuzz that’s taken over your mind still has enough common sense to make you feel as if something’s not right.

“I just had to follow after you, you know?” he keeps rambling, but you’re only barely able to listen. “I just needed some time to save up the money and all, but I was right behind you. And made sure I’d get this apartment right next to yours.”

He looks at your pretty face—all spaced out—stroking your cheek all slow and delicately.

He sighs, “Heh, I know they say that if you love someone, you should let them go—but I just couldn’t find it in me.”

His hand travels further down—eyes following the trail. Down, down, down, until reaching the hem of your shirt.

“I had a crush on you since day one, you know?” he confesses while pulling your tee up over your bra, exposing your pretty chest to him. He licks his lips, breath shuddering, and yet he keeps preaching despite it, “All three years. I wanted to tell you, but you were always surrounded by those pesky friends of yours. It was impossible to catch you alone.”

He feels your skin with a gentle touch as if in reverence. Still, now that you’re getting used to the effects of whatever it is he’s drugged you with, you’re lucid enough to feel the treacherous hard-on he has rubbing against you. 

“Unlike me…” He stills for a moment, and something dark takes over. “I was always alone.”

Beyond uncomfortable, beyond alarmed, you’re fully terrified now. You want to scream, but you can’t find the strength to move, even just a finger. Completely limb, and yet not numb, but sensitive to all his awful touches.

“But that’s all in the past.” He smiles. “Now that I finally have you all to myself.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Tenko ♡ JJK – Yuuta ♡ HQ – Yamaguchi ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Nirei

Wednesday is the cheerful clerk who works at your local grocery store. 

You like doing your grocery shopping on Hump day. It only makes sense, after all—you’ve made it through the first half of the week and deserve to spoil yourself a little! 

He’s only just a bit older than you and yet still plays the older and wiser card—all in good fun, though, making a few comments about your lifestyle, jokingly telling you that “Candies are strictly  for the weekend, you know?” A brow quirked while looking at you slyly.

And you’ll return his banter, giggling while saying, “A little fun never killed no one.”

It’s an innocent flirt the two of you share—neither of you really expects anything in return. He’s just a really friendly guy—always coming over to help you in the store. Tall as he is, he reaches the top shelf, barely needing to stretch his arm. Sometimes, he’ll even take a look at your shopping list and help you gather everything, bag your items, and then carry them out to your car as if the two of you are the people around and the store isn’t filled with dozens of other shoppers in bigger need of his assistance.

He mostly only sees you on Wednesday, but he knows your entire life story and your day-to-day schedule the way the two of you end up talking. Usually, people would be wary of sharing things with strangers, but you trust him with so much exactly because he is a stranger—treating him no different from a confidant. No one knows you as intimately as him. He knows all your little habits—from what you eat on a daily basis to what brand of soap you use, even what type of tampons and pads you like. 

He doesn’t appreciate you eating things outside of the groceries the two of you pick together. He fucking hates it, actually—it makes it feel like you’re cheating on him. Every time you eat out, order in, go to a bar or cafe, even a fucking candy store is like a stab to his back and heart all at the same time. It drives him crazy—he might just burn all those places down to the ground. 

But he never lets any of that show when you’re in the store. It’s not your fault after all that there are so many temptations out in the world. You just need a little help saying no.

You don’t have to worry though. After he becomes your boyfriend, he’ll be that help for you. 

Yeah, all you have to do is stay home and he’ll make sure you get what you need. He won’t let you indulge as much as you do now, of course, but he won’t be too strict either, so don’t fret. 

He’ll make sure you get all the right nutrients to lead a long, happy, healthy life—get your body ripe and ready to start a family. 

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Daichi, Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Yukimiya, Aiku ♡ WB – Suo, Umemiya, Togame

Thursday is your is your random-ass friend who’ll drop by unannounced. It’s never anything crazy, though—no, just a fun hang-out to get a little headstart on the weekend. He’ll bring a joint or maybe some gummies—he likes to keep you guessing. And the two of you will watch cartoons or shitty reality TV, play a round or a dozen of Mario Cart or the like—giggling over each other’s commentary.

He’s chill, laidback, a fan of both comfortable silences and making good conversation. A really good friend.

Yeah, a really good friend who likes sticking his tongue down your throat when you’re knocked out from all the laced drugs he keeps passing you. 

“God, you’re so clueless,” he moans when bearing over your passed-out body where you lie all comfortably oblivious on the couch. “Just a naive cutie pie who’s gonna get her gullible little pussy used.”

You make him so hard—you have no idea how he licks your face and kisses your eyelids. Drunk of the power he has over you and feeling all but unhinged because of it. 

He feels your limp tongue with his fingers, playing with it while grinding against your thigh. Breaths thick with lust—eyes half-mast, getting overstimulated by all the nasty things he’s going to do to you and how you will never ever find out about any of it.

“You know I fuck you raw every time I come over? That’s right, every single time,” he laughs and shudders in delight, whispering the truth into your ear despite knowing you’re in no state to hear it. 

“Mh, I use this body like my own personal sex doll. There’s not a spot left I haven’t touched.” He tugs down your top and takes both your tits in his hand, squeezing them as if they belong to him because, in his mind, in these special precious moments he shares with you, there’s not a part of you that doesn’t belong to him and there’s not a part of you he can’t do whatever he wishes with.

And so, he sucks and licks your pretty tits too and keeps raving, “You’re all mine, every single part of you—I own it all.”

He pulls up your skirt and strokes your cunt through your panties, sliding his fingertip through the slit as if he’s teasing you even though you’re going to stay just as unresponsive no matter what. But in his mind, he imagines it wants him—that your pussy desperately craves him without you knowing—that it’s a secret the two of them share with each other and that they're somehow in cahoots on keeping you oblivious.

“You’re always so tight and wet—it takes everything in me not to cum inside, but we wouldn’t want you figuring things out and ruining our fun, now would we?” he rambles, finally sliding your panties to the side so that he could slip his digits within, pumping you sweetly while you sleep oh-so-soundly and blissfully unaware, getting you good and ready to take his cock in the next minute.

“Yeah, it’s gonna stay our fun little secret forever.” 

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Karasu, Shido ♡ WB – Togame

Friday is the bartender at your go-to club. 

He’s seen you in every state of drunkenness possible—from tipsy, plastered, sloppily drunk to flat-out shit-faced. You’re a bit of an alcoholic, you know that? Once you start, you can’t seem to stop yourself. If someone puts a drink in front of your face, you dont even think before grabbing it—all laughs and zero critical thinking.

Of course, the way he overserves you, you’re bound to get fucked up.

“Wanna go home…”

He holds your drowsy body against his chest, keeping you upright.

“My shift’s done, and my place is right above here, so you don’t gotta worry,” he says, soothing you as you cling to his side, utterly unable to stand on your own two feet, flinching at the flashing strobe lights and wincing from the blaring party music—feeling as if there’s a seismic eight earthquake raging on inside your poor head.

“Where’ my friends?” your words are so slurred, they’re barely audible. 

But he hears you, chuckling before cooing at you, “Let’s get you someplace comfortable, and then we’ll contact your friends, okay? Sound good?”

You burble a few incoherent sounds before uttering out a weak, “Okay…”

“Alright then, baby, don’t worry, I got you,” he purrs in return, getting a better grip around your body as he leads you out of the club, into the elevator, and up to his flat.

“I feel sick…” you mumble, whimpering.

And he coos, “I know, baby, it’s okay, I’ll help you.”

He leads you to his bathroom, setting you down on your knees in front of the toilet. You don’t think much of it when he lifts up your little party dress and tugs it off over your head—feeling as if he’s just making you comfortable. Yeah, he's just taking care of you.

“Let’s empty that system of trash, yeah?” 

He gets down on his own knees just behind you, cradling you as he gathers your hair back with both hands—gripping it a little too tightly in a single fist before being just as rough, sticking two of his thick digits deep into the back of your throat. 

You immediately gag and throw up. 

And he hums, sounding pleased while praising you, “That’s a good girl—get it all out.” 

He doesn’t pull his digits out despite you struggling, trying to wrench away—no, he just uses his bigger body to keep you pressed and hunched over the toilet bowl while finger-fucking the back of your throat—smiling sadistically while at it.

“Come on now, baby, I know you got more in there. Let it out.”

He keeps you there for half an hour, making you dry gag and spit, mascara streaming down your pretty face as he feels your smaller body convulse under his weight. Fuck, it’s enough to make his cock pre.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting your hair and placing a kiss on your temple, all while you shudder and sniffle. “Let’s get you washed up, hm?” 

He reclaims his harsh grip on your hair, just as tightfisted, using it to make you crawl across the tiles until reaching the tub. He takes his place behind you—trapping you between his legs, thighs, and crotch, keeping you locked against the porcelain edge while he fetches the showerhead and immediately sprays your face with the cold at full force. 

“Open up, baby, let’s wash your mouth out.”

You yelp, whining, but he finds your protesting more amusing. Finding your nose with his other hand, he pinches it shut. Making you gape and gasp for breath through the water stream. 

But he doesn’t leave it at that. No. The shower head is about the same size as your fist and proving to be just small enough to allow him to force it into your mouth—all but waterboarding you.

He has to chuckle at your fussing—you’re so weak he barely has to put in any effort keeping you in place—he nearly busts in his pants feeling it. But the best part is how when he lets go of your nose, the water starts coming up and out your nostrils.

He let’s go before you drown, of course. Snuff isn’t on the menu tonight. He’s been stalking you for far too long—he can’t just waste it with foreplay.

You collapse on the floor, shivering and coughing—head a spinning mess, still wasted, riddled with shock yet stifled by exhaustion to do anything but lie there, trembling against the wet tiles.

“No, no, no, baby, you can't fall asleep yet. The party’s still far from over,” he admonishes, giving your cheek a few small slaps before grabbing your upper arm and pulling you up. “Yeah, come here—I’m far from finished with you...”

He carries you out of the bathroom and drops you on his bed. 

“God, you’re fucking dumb,” he grabs your face, pinching your lips while giving it an ugly kiss. “Did your mommy never tell you not to go home with strangers, huh?”

Leaving you there, he goes off to find your purse.

“Let’s let your friends know you’re home safe, hm.”

You try getting up while he’s gone, crawling around in the bedsheet like a worm, but not managing to get anywhere. 

He watches you and scoffs while typing up a message, hitting send to your most recent group chat. It only takes a minute before all the dumb bitches you call friends send hearts in return, saying how fun tonight was.

They have no idea what they’re missing out on.

He saunters back to you. Enjoying every second of watching you squirm. Thank fuck for alcohol, and god bless dumb party girls.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” He grins while grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “You’re not going anywhere, baby—you’re staying right here with me where I can have my fun with you.” 

His hands go up and down your soft skin, thinking of all the pretty marks he’s going to leave on you before curling his fingers around your slutty string panties.

The lace is all wet from his earlier actions as he tugs it down your thighs and legs, tossing it over his shoulder before spreading your legs and pulling you even closer. 

“Aw, you got your pussy all clean-shaven for me?” he awes with a smirk, “What a good girl you are.”

He’d planned on having a bit more fun with you before giving in to his urges, but seeing your pretty little cunt so ready to be fucked, he couldn't be asked to wait any longer, needing to fuck you like he’d been wanting to ever since he first spotted you in the club so many TGIFs ago.

“You sure like to party, don’t you?” he rasps while buckling up his belt and zipping himself down, letting his pants drop before grabbing his painfully hard cock. “Always at the club shaking this pretty little ass of yours—just a dumb party animal, huh?” He just knows your little cunt’s going to squeeze him tight like a trap—he isn’t even going to give you a finger test before bullying himself inside.

“Yeah, you like having fun—you havin’ fun now, babe?” he bows down, biting your cheek while putting his head to your entrance, pressing inside despite the resistance. 

He was right—you are fucking tight, taking his cock just the way he thought you would.

“Fucking slut,” he groans as he starts thrusting, hugging your thighs tight. “Begging to get gangbanged out on that fucking dance floor—dancin’ like a fucking stripper for free and for all to see.”

Fuck, how he’s going to ruin you—give you a necklace of hickies all around your throat as he fucks you into a mess, then press a beer bottle inside you once he’s done—keep his cum in you all night long.

“You deserve to be used. And I’m gonna use yah for all you’re worth.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kuro, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Karasu, Shido, Aiku ♡ DS – Sanemi ♡ WB – Kaji, Togame

Saturday is a gym-bro. There isn’t a day he doesn’t go. Yep, not even Saturday.

You try to go as often as you can muster. But no, you don’t go every day, especially during the weekend—and that gives him a good reason to come up to when you do—teasing you about how he missed you last time. Acting all smug and cocky when asking you what bad habits you got up to on Friday that made you skip out.

He makes you feel sheepish standing next to him as he all but bullies you for being an itty-bitty weakling. 

He’s not exactly being fair. It’s not as if you’re especially weak compared to everyone else. It’s just that absolutely everyone’s an itty-bitty weakling standing next to him. The guy’s pure muscle and taller than most of the equipment, for crying out loud!

One time, he’d demonstrated his strength by daring you to hang from his bicep. And sure enough, he could lift you like you were nothing. Using you like a dumbbell—which is what he’ll sometimes call you.

You’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. It’s flattering, but honestly, you think guys like him are a bit too much. His leg has the same girth as your thigh, and so does his neck—not to mention how you think he has enough strength in his hand alone to pulverize your skull in one simple squeeze.

Besides, he’s way too full of himself. You get being proud about health and fitness, but holy shit, does he never shut up? He’s always bragging about how much he benches and how many reps he does every day—and on top of everything, he seems to always be watching and studying you, commenting about your form, and mansplaining how you can get better.

He gets on your nerves. 

But then again, the guy does seem to know what he’s talking about. And after several weeks of neither seeing nor feeling much results, you finally decide to let him help you out.

And he does. Taking you through all the motions, from warm-ups to really pushing yourself, and now, the cool-down stretches. 

Though… you can’t exactly say there’s much cooling down involved in the way he has you full-feverish, sweating more than you did during the actual workout. In the locker room, suspended against his swole chest with his arms locked around your thighs, folding you clean in half, fingers locked behind your neck as he bounces you on his thick length. And fuck, even his fucking dick is riddled with muscles and veins—feeling as if he’s fucking you with an arm the way he’s stretching you out and punching your guts to mush.

“You holdin’ out, dumbbell?” he mocks, knowing you’re a mess. “Tap out any time, yeah?” 

Fuck him, you think—as if you can move your arms in this position—as if you can even speak or make any sound except full-on panting like a bitch and drooling like one too.

One more hit, and you’re spraying—and he insists on fucking you just as hard through it. Straight pounding your wet cunt until he’s sure you’re empty before dropping you back down on your own two feet.

But just because you’ve cum like a shower doesn’t mean he’s done. No, far from it, as he rushes you up against the lockers next and continues where he left off. 

The cool metal feels good against your cheek, so good you don’t even mind how he’s pressing you flat and free of air—keeping your neck in a chokehold and your hair in his other fist while fucking into you from behind.

“Trust me, this is way better exercise for someone like you,” he grunts with a grin, feeling you go limp. Your knees shot and your whole body listless, kept up solely by his strength like a puppet on strings.

He rasps out a laugh, “I’ll be your personal trainer, free of charge—just meet me after my reps, and I’ll put you to work and make sure you go home feeling proud.”

Yeah, sure, if you don’t pass out before then.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Kunigami, Shido, Baro, Aiku ♡ DS – Akaza ♡ WB – Togame

Sunday is the religious guy who always comes and knocks on your door to share his faith. 

You don’t share his views, but you’d invited him in for lemonade and pastries once. 

You don’t know exactly why. You usually just say no thank you and close the door, but that time, well, you’d just finished making cupcakes, and the house smelled like a bakery—it seemed like a waste not to have company.

Sundays were usually so anticlimactic you never really knew what to make of them. But after that, you came to really enjoy spending them baking, always trying out new fun recipes. And before you even knew it, since he always came knocking on your door on Sundays to enlighten you bout God, it quickly became a thing of ritual for you to invite him in.

You’d always thought strictly religious people such as him were more… how do you say… fanatic? Or, at the very least, be somewhat passionate about talking about their God. But he doesn’t seem to be very interested in telling you about that at all. No, he seems much more invested in you and how you’ve been since last time.

Oh well, you think—maybe he’s more accepting of people having different life views and isn’t deadset on changing minds after all. Maybe that was never his agenda—maybe he’s simply a good samaritan going door to door to see if he’s needed or wanted. That is what religion is all about, after all.

Little do you know, though… he’s not really a religious guy at all… 

No, he’s actually a serial killer who’d been hunting for his next victim. 

He thought you were just perfect, exactly his type—pretty and kind and dumb, just like prey should be. Oh, but then, you became a little too perfect, didn’t you? Inviting him in with such big doe eyes, despite living all alone, feeding him cupcakes, and telling him tales about your life as if he isn’t a total stranger. You might as well be begging him to make you his victim.

But he can’t waste perfection. 

And so, instead of abducting you and frolicking in your screams as he cuts you up into a dozen pieces, he abducts you and frolics in your screams as he sucks your pussy into a dozen orgasms.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Tomiyama

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[shoyodon]

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who thinks tattoos are “so fuckin’ stupid.” Says its a waste of money just to put toxins in your bloodstream.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who rolls his eyes with a huff and mutters a quiet: “Don’t come complainin’ to me when you regret it.” Under his breath after you ramble on about interesting designs you saw online.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who, as much as he hates tattoos, has an equal if not vastly greater amount of love for his engagement/wedding band. Deep black obsidian band with a ruby red strip running around the center. He scoffed when you handed it to him after the two of you got engaged, told him you got it made specifically for him and said that it reminded you of his eyes. His huffing and puffing was a poorly disguised attempt at not letting the sentimentality make his heart race. You could tell he loved it by the red tinge on the tips of his ears that matched his band.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who gets into a scuffle at work while on patrol. The villain had managed to catch him off guard, and when he lifted his hands to shield himself temporarily they had managed to slice through one of his gauntlets like nothing. The surprise attack was all the leverage they had on him, though. Once he got his bearings it was over in an instant.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who reluctantly is pulled into an ambulance; his left arm and hand cut up badly from the attack. He sat on the stretcher with a bitter look on his face, not caring that his fingers nearly were cut off and were getting stitched up frantically by one of the paramedics, all he cared about was the bent, misshapen ring clenched in his other palm, which had to be cut off of his finger due to the injury.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who denies it vehemently when you ask him if the bad attitude hes had for the past few days is because his ring was ruined, claiming hes “not that sentimental.” but you still see how he keeps the bent piece on his bedside, and how he stays up late at night looking into places he can trust enough to repair it.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who, amongst watching various tiktoks of people repairing rings on his fyp, discovers someone tattooing their partners initials on their ring finger in lieu of a wedding band.

Newlywed husband! Katsuki who shows up home just a day after his doctor said his hand was completely healed with fresh ink on his ring finger. Your initials permanently engraved on his skin. His first and only tattoo.

-

(Newlywed husband! Katsuki who shrugs, claiming its “safer than having the ring nearly cut my damn finger off,” but still leaps at you when you surprise him with his ring, freshly repaired, on a chain that he can wear under his hero costume.)

((Husband! Katsuki who never removes the chain from around his neck no matter the circumstance, and subtly shows off his tattoo any chance he gets; what could be better than one way to show off that he has the best spouse a man could ask for waiting for him at home? Two!))

[sakuraszn]

ft. timeskip katsuki bakugo

summary: you like when he gets upset.

You never start arguments with Bakugo on purpose.

Not really.

But damn if he isn’t fine as hell when he’s pissed.

And right now? Right now, he’s seething.

“What the fuck was that back there?” His voice is rough, low—dangerous—as he stalks toward you, shoulders squared, arms flexing, jaw tight enough to shatter stone.

You should be concerned. You should be explaining yourself. But instead, all you can do is watch the way his chest rises and falls, the fire in those red eyes, the way his lips curl in frustration.

This is bad.

He looks too good when he’s mad.

You press your lips together to stop the smirk threatening to spread across them. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” he growls, stepping closer, heat radiating off his body. “You got some fuckin’ nerve,” he mutters, jaw tight. “You just gon’ let some extra put his hands on you like that? In front of me?”

Ah. That.

Your lips part, but no words come out. You weren’t expecting this. The way he’s looking at you? Predatory. Dangerous. Possessive as hell.

You should be scared. But instead—

You loved every second of it.

“Answer me,” he demands, voice rough, commanding.

You swallow, tilting your chin up slightly. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Yeah, you knew what you were doing. Maybe you could’ve pushed the guy away faster. Maybe you could’ve told him off harsher. But where’s the fun in that when it gets this reaction out of your man?

Bakugo’s possessive. Always has been. And when that jealousy flares up, when he gets all riled up, dominant, voice dropping into that rough, dangerous growl—

It does something to you.

You shrug, pretending innocence. “He was just talking—”

Wrong answer.

Bakugo crowds you against the nearest wall, both hands slamming beside your head. His breath is hot against your skin, his scent wrapping around you, heavy with heat and warning.

“Nah,” he mutters. “Try again.”

You bite your lip. “You jealous, baby?”

“Jealous?” He scoffs, but there’s a dark glint in his eyes, something wild, something dangerous. “Nah. But I will remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

Your breath catches. This is serious. This is a real argument. But damn it, he looks so fucking good like this.

You should be apologizing. You should be reassuring him. Instead, you let your fingers trace over his wrist, slow, teasing. “That so?”

His eyes narrow, reading you like an open book. “You think this is funny?”

Your smile is slow, wicked. “I think you like it when I test you.”

For a second, just a second, his breath hitches. Then—

“Tch.” He huffs out a laugh, low and dangerous. “Keep runnin’ that mouth, princess. See what happens.”

Oh, you plan to.

©sakuraszn !

[fangdokja]

♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 474

You should’ve known better than to ignore his texts. Now you’re here, bent over a desk, your skirt hiked up, panties ripped clean off—and him slamming into you from behind. The empty classroom isn’t really empty. The door is wide open. Anyone could walk by. Anyone could see.

"You wanna act like a fucking brat? Then I’ll treat you like one." His voice is low, smug, dripping with amusement. Your cheek presses against the cold desk, nails digging into the surface as he forces himself deeper. "You’re lucky I’m even giving you my cock after all that attitude." You bite your lip, trying—failing—to stifle the shameless, wet sounds of him using you.

"Oh? Now you wanna be quiet?" A sharp slap lands on your ass, making you yelp. "Nah, bitch, you wanna act up? Let the whole fucking school hear how much of a slut you are." Your legs tremble, his pace brutal, unforgiving. Each thrust forces you forward, making the desk creak beneath you.

"What, not gonna fight back? Thought you hated me, princess." His fingers dig into your hips, hard enough to bruise. "Didn’t stop your cunt from sucking me in, though." You whimper, shame burning in your gut. It’s too much. Too rough. And your body is betraying you. "Fucking knew it. Acting all high and mighty—like you’re better than me—" he spits, yanking your head back by your hair—forcing you to look at the open door.

"But you’re just a nasty little whore who lets me use her wherever I want." Your breath hitches. A group of guys walks past the hallway. They don’t see you. But they could. Your stomach knots with a sick mix of terror and humiliation. "Shit, you just got tighter. You like that, huh?" He laughs, voice thick with mockery.

"Bet you’d love getting caught. Letting them see what a dumb little fucktoy you are." Tears prick your eyes. "You crying, baby? Poor thing." His grip tightens, thrusts brutal. "Nah, you don’t get to act innocent. Not when you’re dripping all over my cock like this." You gasp, another sharp slap landing on your ass.

"Fucking say it." His fingers tangle in your hair again, forcing you to arch back. "Say you love being my personal fuckhole." You shake your head, choking back a sob. Wrong answer. His hand wraps around your throat, cutting off your breath. "Say it, bitch."

Your vision flickers. "Or I’ll fucking leave you here—stuffed full of my cum—so the next guy can have a turn." A shudder racks through you. "Say it." Your lips tremble.

"I… I love being your fuckhole." He groans, his pace turning frantic. "Good girl." Your head spins, your body aching, bruised, used. And still, he doesn’t stop. Not until he’s done with you. Not until he’s had his fill. Not until he’s ruined you completely.

♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

Ace Attorney: N/A

Arcane: N/A

Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Shidou Ryusei, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi,Hawks, Katsuki Bakugo, Villain! Midoriya Izuku

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: Hiroki Dan

Death Note: Light Yagami

Demon Slayer: Muzan Kibutsuji, Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Tengen Uzui

Dishonored Series: N/A

Genshin Impact: Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, Rex Lapis

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kei Tsukishima, Keishin Ukai, Kentarou Kyotani, Kenjiro Shirabu, Oikawa Tooru, Suna Rintarou, Tendō Satori, Tetsurou Kuroo, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima

Honkai Star Rail: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Mr. Reca, Fallen! Phainon, Mydei, Nanook

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Feitan Portor, Gon Freecss, Hisoka Morow, Illumi Zoldyck, Kalluto Zoldyck, Nobunaga Hazama, Phinks, Uvogin

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru, Duke Illuster Starbe, Eduardo Deserte, Nemeseus

Jujutsu Kaisen: Megumi Fushiguro, Naoya Zen'in, Ryōmen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Kim Woo-Jin, Park Yong-Wan, Se Jun-Lee

Love and Deepspace: Caleb

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Claude, Gusion

MONSTER: N/A

Naruto Shippuden: Deidara, Hidan, Kabuto Yakushi, Madara Uchiha, Zabuza Momochi

One Punch Man: Boros, Garou, Suiryu

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: Mhin, Player Character, Vere

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Bill! Sans, Dust! Sans, Error! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Horror! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Undertale Chara

Wuthering Waves: Aalto, Scar

Your Throne: Eros Orna Vasilios

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood. Thank you.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @yanderedrabbles

[noyasmashing]

Virgin!Izuku, who is easily embarrassed by his inexperience, blushing and shaking when called out for his perverted stares. Despite being a famous pro hero, he admits he has never gone past a simple touch over the bra.

Virgin!Izuku, Who came in his pants with a cry when you palmed him through the fabric, whispering words of praise making him squirm. He tried to apologize, but his words quickly died as you popped him in your mouth.

Virgin!Izuku, can’t control himself as he presses his hips into your mouth, emitting soft, needy moans. Gazing at you with stars in his eyes as you give him the best pleasure he’s had in his life.

Virgin!Izuku, who quickly becomes erect once more after watching intently as you consume his baby’s without a single drop being missed.

Virgin!Izuku, breaks down in tears as soon as you playfully mock his quick climax, his hips thrusting against nothing as he whimpers and grasps at your hips.

Virgin!Izuku, that gasps in pleasure as you slowly lower yourself onto his throbbing erection, struggling to hold back from cuming inside when you whisper how amazing his cock feels inside you.

Virgin!Izuku, arches his back desperate to bury himself deeper inside you, tears welling up in his eyes as you stroke his cheek affectionately, expertly moving your body against his. With a loud cry, he releases himself as your warm walls tightens around him.

Virgin!Izuku, who twitches inside you, cum still leaking from his sensitive cock, your comforting words and heartfelt praises, make him cum again and again.

Virgin!Izuku, struggles to form sentences as you whisper dirty words into his ear, his hips squirming and moving away from you uncontrollably as you continue riding him.

Virgin!Izuku, who lets out a pitiful sob as you remind him, "I haven't cum yet, baby."

[pastelclovds]

thinking about getting the most despicable, diabolical, therapy needing man pregnant.

the burdens of being the strongest being can be so exhausting. he almost wants to quit and settle down with someone who he can trust with his life. but he’s gone through too much and has accomplished so many things to get to where he is. he’s close to abandoning that dream altogether. that is… until he met you.

you were equally as ruthless and powerful. you willingly gave your all to protect him and stumble his enemies. you grew closer to him on a personal level, and soon enough he saw you as worthy enough for his love and to bear your child.

you hissed in both pain and pleasure when he scraped his finger nails against your back as you continued to pound into his used cunt. your mixed releases from previous rounds spilling out against his inner thighs every time you thrusted inside his warm tight walls. his moans raised in pitch every time the tip of your cock hit his special spot.

he begs for you to make him pregnant and to stay with him forever. his arms tighten around your shoulders when you swear that you would stay loyal to him and give him as many children as he wants. you didn’t expect your promises to make him gush slick. you pick up the pace when he cries out that he’s close. you aim to hit directly at his sweet spot harshly, you didn’t think he’d get any louder.

your breathing became harsh when you felt your lower abdomen grow hot, signaling that your orgasm was near. you muffle your moan by biting into your lover’s neck as you bottomed out. filling his overstuffed pussy to the brim, to the point where it started squirting out and dripping down your thighs and his ass.

his thighs that remained wrapped around your waist tighten to an almost dead grip, as if he was afraid of you suddenly pulling out. as if you’d ever do that. your cock remained buried inside his loose cunt until you’ve gotten flaccid. plugging him up with your hot seed. you thought he was finished until he suddenly flipped you onto your back and started furiously bouncing on your hardening cock.

he was determined to milk you dry until you gave him what he always dreamed of. you didn’t complain though, he looked attractive on top of you.

“not enough. i need more. i want your baby.” the way he spoke with unwavering determination would’ve scared anyone. thankfully you always wore red tinted glasses.

arlong, makarov, kenjaku, sukuna, homelander, shigaraki, dabi, muzan, dio, ur fav characters <3

[matteglaze]

Thinking abt Todoroki Shouto, and how he isn't as dense as he comes across...

When reading fanfics Shouto is always oblivious and dense, and yes, I wholeheartedly agree with that—

But i feel like Shouto also does it on purpose, you know? Like, one day you're both talking, and he's just soo up close to your face. 'He probably doesn't realize' you rationalize inside your head, but no, he's definitely aware of the affect he has on you. Your reactions are cute, he thinks, cute in the way he can't seem to stop teasing you.

I think he'd pay extra close attention to people that are close to him, people he holds dear, so whenever you stutter, or your mind goes and blank and you think 'Oh, I hope he didn't notice that—' he does.

I think that's why I like the idea that he's actually a little menance, but the worst part is that he gets away with it !!

Whether it's saying something so humbling and out of depth— something that many would take offense to but think, 'well, he didn't really mean it that way— that's just how he is', NOPE!! he definitely meant it that way, but not clarifying anything saves him the trouble so why should he care yk...

Though, he mostly (all the time really) does it with you. Getting up in your personal space, saying things like "When we're on a mission together, I feel like I can handle anything as long as you're the one by my side"— and it flusters you sooo badly, but no, this is Shouto we're talking about, clearly he didn't mean it like that, right? Right? (And the entire time, he's trying to bite down a Cheshire grin)

So, yes, in the earlier years of being a hero he wasn't really great at communication and unaware of social cues— but now, he's practically evil with the way he acts around you.

Sometimes you think you see it; you're going to call him out on his behavior. There's no way he didn't know what he was doing when he held your face in his hands on a hot summer day, pulling you close and saying, "Is this cooling you down?" (No, actually, this was just heating you up)

But whenever you do call him out on it—

"You know, you're not that slick." You say one day, ice cream cone in hand as you walk next to him, bumping him with your hip. Your eyes slide over towards his mismatched ones, gauging his reaction closely. If you were anyone else you would have probably missed the slight quirk of his lip; the uplift of his brows. But you don't, and the grin on your face overtakes most of your features. Maybe today will be the day he finally admits it. Instead he doesn't speak, takes one lick of his mint chocolate ice cream and then he turns to you, a silent question appearing on his face. A taunt.

You let out a humourless breath, cone tight in your hand as you point it in his direction. Accusing him of something both of you know you won't be able to prove, but he knows you know, and you know he knows you know. But, it'd be really great if he could just admit it, because it's almost like a game.

A game between just the two of you.

"Don't try and act blonde now!" You chide, biting on your bottom lip to control the smile that tries to force it's way on your face.

Shouto smiles at your antics, leaning in close to you, and all of a sudden he completely invades your senses. The smell of mint on his lips is so close, and yet so far. He stares deeply into your eyes, and just as you thought you were getting closer to the truth— he brings his thumb up to wipe absent mindlessly at the corner of your mouth. He pulls back, looks you in the eyes, and takes a tentative lick at the frosty flavour on his thumb. With a cat-like tilt to his head, he says, "I'm not blonde?"

But, the worst part is whenever he speaks about you to others, he speaks so fondly of you; like one would do about their partner— but you guys aren't together. Sometimes he does it right in front of your face whenever you guys are at a hero gala. Shouto sees you talking to a new and upcoming, young, pro-hero and he immediately comes to your side. With how close he is, and with the things he says to them, "I can never imagine myself without them by my side." It gives people the idea that you're both, you know, a thing.

Little do you know, he's been playing this 'game' ever since high school, and even though the two of you aren't exclusive— it doesn't mean he can't get in his fun.

Todoroki Shouto is not good for your health.

[chaepink]

can you write about sub yan cumming too fast and having to overstimulating himself for us ☺️

sub!yan, dom!reader, overstimulation, whining, crying, teasing, masturbation

“I-It hic! It h-hurts, [name]!” Your yandere looks at you with glazed, glassy eyes, tears forming in the corners and falling as he pumps his dick fast.

“But darling, this is your punishment for cumming too fast. You caused this for yourself.”

He lets out a cry as he runs his own thumb over the tip, the pleasure making him shiver and for pre cum to leak out even more. There’s a small puddle of it underneath his dick and it slowly grows larger every time he cums.

You giggle at the lewd sight of his spread legs and how he’s watching your every move, wanting you to get closer and touch him any where.

“F-Fuck [name].” He lets out a desperate whimper. How many times has he cummed now? Three? Four? Your yandere doesn’t know, the pleasure and pain fogging his mind and making it hard to think. All he knows is that he’s close again and although it hurts, he doesn’t want to stop. His hand on his dick speeds up as the pleasure overwhelms him again.

“I-I’m close ah! Please l-let me cum, p-please?”

Grinning at just how pathetic he looks, you nod, wanting to see him fall apart again just from his own hand.

He sees you nod and lets out a cry as he cums, cum shooting out his spent dick and onto his already stained chest and thighs. He looks absolutely lewd like this but he looks so pretty at the same time.

Seeing his hand slow down, you only shake your head at him and he whines, knowing the words you’ll say next.

“Did I say stop darling? You’re not done till I say you’re done baby.”

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[finsplurtz]

— put a leash on denki kaminari

y’all know the choker he wears stays on during sex, let him know just how pretty he looks wearing the choker, makes him act up. clip a leash onto him and use him like a bitch you’ll have him moaning like one

“OhHh..~! fuckkk ye..ah~” His face is smushed against the sheets, his knuckles turning white due to how hard he was gripping them. Holding onto the leash and and use it to fuck deep into him while pressing on his back to deepen his arch.

His voice is starting to tremble and turn into small sobs, his smile quivering. you’re slamming so deep into his tummy, his prostate being so roughly grinded against.

“k-keep go..’ng..bou—ta… com..~” He can barely keep his eyes open, his face is covered in tears and drool, his bangs sticking to his forehead, a mess.

He screams a moan, finishing all over the bed. fill him up to the brim and leave him twitching, a stupid fucked out expression on his beautiful face.

[yanluvr]

yan!shigaraki would pathetically fist his cock to pictures and videos he took of you when he believes you didn’t notice him. he follows you to your job, hangouts with your friends, and basically everywhere you go whenever he can; and if he can’t he’ll just sent one of the league members to watch you and report back to him. when shigaraki is playing his dating sims, he imagines the game’s love interest who is complimenting him is you. he only watches pornos if the person is a dom and shares some of the same figures as you.

shigaraki fantasizes about you pulling his hair and calling him names while also praising him and holding him close. he wants your lips to steal his first kiss, your hands and mouth to give him bruises and mark him as yours, and he wants you to have your way with him as you take his virginity.

when shigaraki sneaks inside your bedroom through your suspiciously open window, he goes to still whatever things he thinks you won’t notice are missing until he comes across a piece of paper that was being spot lit by your desk lamp. he walked towards the paper that was written in red ink spelling ‘surprise’. then out of nowhere you jump up from your hiding spot to tackle him onto your bed and put on quirk canceling handcuffs on him (where did you even get those?? he wondered).

you glared down at shigaraki like he was a useless insect, he really shouldn’t be turned on by this, but he is. your nonchalant expression turned sadistic as you watched your pathetic stalker try to blubber out excuses.

“well well well, the infamous leader of the league of villains stealing my clothes like a pathetic stalker. this is too funny. i should just call my many hero friends to take your dirty ass away… but fortunately for you, i pity you. so here’s what’s gonna happen.”

you run your hand down shigaraki’s twitching belly, unzipped the front of his pants, and slipped your fingers into his pre stained boxed to stroke his semi-hard cock into full hardness, all while he was whimpering pitifully and jerking his hips up along the movements of your hand. you watch his face like a hawk, grinning as you watch his expression change to lovesick and pleasure-filled.

“i’m going to give you the best fuck of your life, and in exchange: you’ll take me out on a date. we have a deal, stalker?”

shigaraki let out a shaky breath as he could feel the edge almost reach him, he nod his head and tried to resist kissing you right then and there. “y-yes, i’ll do whatever you want- oh god! f-fuck me, fuck me please!” he pleaded as his hands gripped onto your bedsheets for dear life.

oh you were gonna have so much fun with him.

[luviisabella]

Bakugou does push ups with you on his back.

Majority of the time you’re just reading and enjoying the view of your boyfriend biceps.. other times you’re encouraging him and he can’t help the grin that spreads on his face knowing he’s eating up every affirmation you throw at him.

—

“You’re so strong kats’ you gently place your hands on his back as he continues his workout.

“Yeah ?” he groans and it’s hot, getting him to talk during this is probably your favorite part and he knows it

“Mhm”

“You should show me how those muscles really work tonight”

Now you’ve got him all riled up-

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[fangdokja]

♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,247

You should’ve known better than to trust the town’s so-called gentle giant.

People always cooed about him, saying how sweet he was, how harmless. A big ol’ teddy bear with a deep, slow drawl and an easy smile. The kind of man that made grandmothers pinch his cheek and young girls whisper about how lucky some woman would be to have a strong, dependable man like him.

But you? You knew better now.

Because that big, sweet teddy bear had you folded in half on his bed, his monstrous hands forcing your legs back until your joints ached, until something deep inside you screamed in protest. The air in your lungs felt squeezed out, crushed beneath his weight, and yet—he didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down.

His drawl was still there, but it wasn’t sweet now—it was thick with dark amusement, a lazy cruelty as he watched you writhe beneath him. “Aww, sugar, you cryin’?” he cooed, thumbing away the wetness streaking down your cheek, only to smear it over your lips. “Didn’t know you were such a crybaby. Thought you were gonna put up a fight—where’d all that struggle go, huh?”

The bed groaned beneath his weight as he rolled his hips forward, sinking into you with a slow, deliberate force that made you shudder. Your breath hitched—no space, no room, the pressure unbearable. He felt it. He loved it.

“Fuck,” he hissed, half-laughing, eyes flickering down to where your body struggled to take him. His grip on your thighs tightened—too tight, the kind of tight that sent pain spiderwebbing through your flesh, deep enough to bruise. Deep enough to do worse. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn tight, sweetheart. Can feel you tremblin’ all over. Ain’t this just precious? Never thought my first time’d be like this, but damn if it ain’t a dream come true.”

Your mind reeled. First time?

It didn’t make sense—how could he be a virgin when he was fucking you like this? When he was brutal, merciless, dragging it out just to hear you whimper? Every inch of him felt like it had been made to ruin you, thick and hot and relentless. He saw the way your eyes widened, that tiny flicker of disbelief amidst the wreckage of your dignity, and he laughed.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” His grin was wicked, his breath hot against your cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart, you’re the first pussy I’ve ever had. Never had a girl before, never touched one neither.” He leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his voice dipping into something darker, something breathless. “Guess I was just waitin’ for someone real special. Someone I could break in proper.”

He punctuated the words with another deep thrust, making you choke.

He groaned, shuddering, his fingers flexing against your skin—pressure, deep and unforgiving, grinding down against your bones. You sucked in a shallow breath, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. His weight was suffocating, bearing down like an animal pinning its prey.

“You’re takin’ it so good, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Thought you’d be fightin’ more. Thought you’d be scratchin’ and kickin’, but look at ya—just layin’ there, lettin’ me breed you nice and deep.”

Your nails scrabbled at his arms, but it only made him grin wider.

“That all you got?” he mocked. “That’s just adorable. Poor thing, don’t even know what to do with yourself, huh?”

The worst part was the heat building inside you, the way your own traitorous body clenched around him, gripping him with every slow, punishing stroke. He felt it too, because his rhythm stuttered for just a second before he growled, slamming into you harder—ruthless now, purposefully cruel.

“Fucking hell,” he panted, “you just beggin’ to be bred, ain’tcha?”

Your vision blurred as he folded himself over you, his weight pressing down, forcing you to take him deeper than you thought possible. You were going to break. You could feel it—your insides twisting, your spine arching too far, bones creaking under his strength.

He was everywhere. His scent, his heat, the low, ragged noises spilling from his throat. And that fucking voice—syrupy sweet even as he mocked you, even as he ruined you.

“Bet everyone’d be real surprised if they saw you now,” he murmured, dragging his teeth over your throat, biting down—hard. Not playful. Not teasing. A claiming.

You yelped, body flinching under his, but there was nowhere to go. No escape.

“Ain’t that funny?” he mused, lips brushing the fresh wound. “Everyone thinks I’m some harmless puppy dog, wouldn’t hurt a fly. But you know better now, don’tcha, sweetheart?”

You whimpered, barely able to breathe through the relentless pounding.

“Aww, sugar, ain’t no use cryin’,” he teased, licking the mark, tasting the heat of your skin. “You were made for this. For me.”

He drew back just enough to look down at where you were stretched around him, where his cock was bullying its way deeper and deeper into a place he had no right claiming. A long, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest.

“Mmm, look at that.” He pressed a palm against your belly, pushing down just enough to make you feel the outline of him, buried to the hilt. “You’re so fuckin’ small compared to me. ‘Bout to split you in two, but your pussy’s still suckin’ me in like she don’t wanna let go.”

He moaned, shuddering.

“Filthy little thing. Gonna make sure you’re stuck with me forever.”

His grip turned brutal, nails digging deep, skin bending under his touch. “Think I’d ever let anyone else touch you after this? Fuck no.”

He lifted your hips, changing the angle, and you screamed as he hit something devastatingly deep. His eyes rolled back, and he laughed, nearly delirious with pleasure.

“Ohhh, you feel that?” he groaned. “That’s what I been chasin’. That’s mine.”

His hips slammed against yours with bruising force, his breath coming faster. “Gonna fill you up so full,” he panted, his grip tightening to the point of pain. “Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

You felt it before he even said it—the way his thrusts turned erratic, the way his breath hitched. His body shuddered, his muscles locking up tight, and then he was burying himself as deep as he could go, grinding against you, making sure he was locked inside as he spilled himself into you with a deep, guttural groan.

You felt it. Thick and hot, filling you in a way that made your stomach churn.

He stayed there, pressed flush against you, rolling his hips in slow, lazy circles, like he was savoring every second of it.

Then, finally, he leaned back just enough to look at you properly. Dark eyes. Heavy-lidded. Drunk on the sight of you wrecked beneath him. But his grin—his wicked, breathless grin—was the worst part.

“Guess you’re mine now, sugar.”

He chuckled, still grinding against your overstimulated body, his breath warm and sticky against your cheek.

“Ain’t no man gonna want you after I’m done. But that’s alright. Ain’t nobody ever gonna touch you again.”

Just me.

His voice was soft, sweet, but there was no mistaking the possessive growl beneath it.

“I’ll be real good to ya,” he murmured, his fingers tracing idle patterns over your trembling thighs. “Just as long as you remember who you belong to.”

He pressed another kiss against your throat, his lips curving into a cruel, satisfied smile.

“Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll remind you as many times as it takes.”

♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

Ace Attorney: Phoenix Wright

Arcane: PTSD! Jayce

Blue Lock: Shidou Ryusei

Boku no Hero Academia: Hawks, Villain! Midoriya Izuku

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: Hiroki Dan

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Kyojuro Rengoku, Tanjiro Kamado, Tengen Uzui, Zenitsu Agatsuma

Dishonored Series: N/A

Genshin Impact: Childe, Cyno, Itto, Venti, Fallen! Phainon

Haikyuu!!: Daichi Sawamura, Goshiki Tsutomu, Tendō Satori, Yūji Terushima

Honkai Star Rail: Argenti, Boothill, Caelus, Sampo Koski

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Gon Freecss, Uvogin

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Deon Hardt

Jujutsu Kaisen: Satoru Gojo, Yuji Itadori

Kill The Hero: Lee Jin-Ah

Love and Deepspace: Caleb

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Claude, Julian, Suyou

MONSTER: N/A

Naruto Shippuden: Deidara, Haku, Hashirama Senju, Hidan, Kabuto Yakushi, Minato Namikaze, Shisui Uchiha

One Punch Man: Sneck, Stinger, Suiryu

Reverend Insanity: Fang Zheng

TOUCHSTARVED: N/A

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Storyshift Chara, Undertale Frisk, Undertale Sans

Wuthering Waves: Aalto, Brant

Your Throne: N/A

♡ A/N. Re-upload lol.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood. Thank you.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @yanderedrabbles

[sansfangirl24]

Bakugo to me is the type of person who when you visit him on his patrols, he'll do something to piss you off or scare you

like he'll pretend to be stabbed and horribly injured on the phone, or something then laugh at you the whole time when you tell him you ran halfway across the city just to see him with some food in his hands perfectly fine. Or if your heroes together, he'll call you and say that there was freak accident, and he needs back up and when you get there the villain would already be defeated and everything looking perfect and he would like idk be there filing his nails, sitting on the villains back with one leg crossed over the other and he would look at you with the most judgmental look ever even though he didn't need any help in the first place and he would be like "I thought you loved me. now I know me and the safety of others isn't important to you"

definitely the worst thing he would do though is push you off a building only to use his explosions and save you, knowing he would never let you actually get hurt (he'd unalive himself if you got hurt because of something he did) and he would be laughing and snickering the whole time you're hitting him and calling him a jerk. I never really liked the idea of prankster Bakugo but scaring you half to death because of something Bakugo to me is *chefs kiss* perfection

[i-cant-sing]

To that one thought about the different monarchs YES TO ALL

Ahahaha im so glad so many people liked that idea (OG post here), so ive decided to work on it. So, lets set the story okay? (also btw do not @ me with historical inaccuracies and dates because i simply dont care about all of this that deeply). This AU will have multiple parts, where reader gets to travel through different time periods (and some of them will be real historic figures, others would be created by me).

Reader is a scientist, was working on her time machine (which is just a small box with time/year slots on it), and decides to travel to the past to solve some mysteries, or perhaps simply for the love of history.

So, where does reader travel to first?

1180. Landing right in the kingdom of Jerusalem. And who does she meet?

King Baldwin IV- the leper king.

Reader wanted to see how leprosy, a deadly disease at the time, had affected the king, who despite his conditions, still managed to possess great military strategies and IQ. And how even though his people knew about his outcome, still pledged their loyalty and unwavering support.

You, a scientist of the modern time ofc brought along futuristic gadgets with you. Knowing how youd look in your present era clothes, you wore a watch that allowed you to change into clothes of old times, to blend in easily. All of your gadgets were concealed easily because of their "invisibility cloak" feature.

You made your way towards the castle, making sure to not let awe be apparent in your face as you took in your surroundings, thinking of all the questions youd like to ask the wise king. Of course, you had to make sure you dont do anything to disturb the historic timeline, because then it just might lead to disastrous results.

Getting into the castle was easy, after all you had equipment to sneak you in undetected. You looked around as the servants rushed around, talking about making the arrangements perfect for the feast. You figured out that the feast was probably for another victory the king had gotten, which meant that everyone would be too busy to notice you snooping around.

With everyone engaged downstairs, you had your way up to the king's study, where you opened the door only to be met with a tall burly man standing there, looking surprised to see you.

"Who are you?" He barked, and you got the worst vibes from this man.

"Uh- Im a servant!" You said,backing up a little, just in case you needed to make a run. The man narrowed his eyes as he looked you up and down. "A servant? No servants are allowed in the king's study!"

"The king sent me here." You lied. "And why are you here if servants are not allowed?"

The man's eyes widened in rage before grabbing you by the neck. "Because Im not a servant, fool! I'm his brother in law!" He shook you hard. "And I dont think youre a servant, if you couldnt recognise me! I will have your head, spy!"

"GUY!" Someone yelled from behind you, making Guy look up as his grip around your neck loosened. "Let her go!"

"Your majesty, she's a spy-"

"She's a servant. I sent her up to retrieve my papers." Guy let you go, as you quickly turned around to see him- King Baldwin. You bowed to him as you gave him a glance, noticing his piercing gaze through his iron mask. His gaze shifted from you to Guy. "And what were you doing here, Guy?"

"I was looking for Sibylia, your majesty." He said.

"In my study? My sister is waiting for you downstairs. Go." Guy scrambled away with his tail tucked between his legs, while you watched as the king made his way into his study, leaving you outside.

You took a step back, about to leave-

"Well, come on in." He called you. You ponder over it for a second before walking in. Look, how many times can you meet a historical figure like him?

Baldwin was sitting in his chair, his eyes looking at you through his mask. "So, who are you and what were you doing here? And dont bother lying, unless you want to be tortured for attempted assassination on the king."

You bit your lip before sighing. "Im Y/n L/n." Clasping your hands together, you took a deep breath. "I came here because... I wanted to know about you."

He rested his chin on his palm. "Why? Do you not know about the king of Jerusalem? Where are you from?" He's not vain, but he knows that his numerous victories have made him popular over the years. So why do you not know of him? Or his brother in law, Guy, who is very vain.

"Im from nowhere. For as long as I can remember, Ive been travelling from place to another. Of course, Ive heard about you, but... I crave to know more." You said, partly telling the truth because you do want to know more about him.

His eyes remained on you, the same intense gaze. "And why should I allow you to know more? Do you mistake yourself to be worthy enough to even be in the presence of a king?"

Shit. He was trying to put you in the corner. You had to play this smart.

You smiled softly. "Of course not. Then again, none of us are worthy of anything God blesses us with." You paused, letting the words settle. "Your majesty, I only wish to know more about you because I like to write. I like to write about history, and when one day, God forbid, you succumb to your illness, wouldn't you like to be known for more than just your victories?" You'd read about how Baldwin IV was a fan of history and stories.

His eyes stared at you- no, through you. Unmoving, he replied. "Man shouldnt be so narcissistic to have someone write about his deeds."

You gave a nod. "Jesus wasnt a narcissist. Neither was Mary, nor Abraham. Muhammad wasnt a narcissist either, yet theyre mentioned in books- holy books, nonetheless."

The room fell silent for a few seconds, before he spoke. "True. But why should I have you write it, instead of using one of my scribes?"

"Precisely for the reason you just said." You raised your head a bit. "They'd write never ending praises for you, portray you as this omnipotent ruler, make you look like a narcissit even. I have a keen eye, your majesty. I like to look at what there is beyond the surface. If you let me be your scribe, I could write about details you dont even know. Id write about your strengths as well as weaknesses, for the generations to read and learn from you."

Baldwin remained still for a few moments before finally standing up, walking directly towards you until he was face to face. His blue eyes shining bright under his iron mask.

"I will let you write, under two conditions. First- I approve what gets to be in the book. And second... you spy for me."

"Wait, spy?"

He hummed. "Well, not a conventional spy. You wont have to leave this castle and penetrate enemy territories to eavesdrop. I still dont trust you enough. No- you- you will spy on my court. I want to know what is happening, when, where, and who says what." Under his mask, he raised a brow. "Do you accept?"

You pretended to hesitate, when in reality this was the exact situation you wanted to be in. "Hmm... yes. I accept."

"Good." He walks back towards his desk. "I expect that it goes without saying- complete discretion." You smiled. "Of course, your majesty."

-

Months passed by as you worked for the king. He let you in on details, allowed you to ask personal questions, and in return you kept an eye on everything that happened in court. Listening on to what the servants whispered to eavesdropping on "secret meetings" of the nobles- of course, headed by Guy. Oh how you loathed that vermin's guts. No- he had no guts. A spineless creature, who blatantly talked of the king's eventual demise and all the ways he'd make the kingdom flourish again, how he'd show "no mercy to Salauddin and his muslims". You have no idea how Sibylla was attracted to him- a man who plans her brother's demise openly.

As for the king, working with him- or for him, wasnt all bad. In fact, it was quite fun. The amount of stories, the secrets youve been able to discover- none of it could ever be found in any history book. Most of all, you respect Baldwin on a whole new level now.

His struggles, ever since he was kid- not being a legitmate ruler, his parents being forced to separate, then being diagnosed with leprosy but forced to keep it a secret, the competition with his other sibling to be the heir, and of course, even when he did become the king, he still had to prove his mettle- his worth that he's worthy of ruling even with his disease.

With his life expectancy being uncertain and a huge amount of responsibility being shovelled onto him, he had to learn a lot and master various skills in very short time.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Y/n could only imagine how isolated he must feel. Not being able to touch anyone, to have a significant other, to constantly win battles and do everything in your power to help the kingdom flourish, just for him to not even be alive to enjoy the fruits of his efforts. And worse, he's forced to give it away to his brother in law, that useless piece of shit.

Its one thing that confuses you about Baldwin. You know how persistent he is, how when he sets his eyes on something, he does everything in power and BEYOND to achieve it. For example, when he was only a child and had started to lose the ability to use his hands, he quickly learned to use his thighs to steer his horse. He did not let his disease hold him back, so how does a person as motivated as him simply allow his kingdom to be left in the hands of someone as incapable as Guy?

Then again, you suppose he's doing it for the sake of his sister. Baldwin adores Sibylla, and you could see why. Sibylla was his older sister, she took care of him, and she was forced to marry early because the court would only allow Baldwin to be king IF she were married, so that when Baldwin dies of leprosy, her husband could take care of the kingdom. Baldwin views it as the ultimate sacrifice, so even though he has tried to separate his sister from Guy, she has refused because she's in love with him.

God knows how. You wondered. Guy does not have any redeeming qualities, then again youre thinking like a 21st century woman. Woman of this time had the bar for men set below the deepest level in hell.

"So, what do you have for me today?" Baldwin asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You sighed, shaking your head. "Nothing new, really. Your brother in law, pardon my language your majesty, has been spewing shit about how he'll make the kingdom great again when you die. But when those nobles ask him how, he either has no answer and tries to cover it up by saying its a secret, or he'd say something so ridiculous- his ideas are bound to not only fail, but actually destroy the kingdom even more. I am surprised he doesnt give himself a headache by his own voice. God knows i get one whenever he opens his mouth." You complained, rubbing your temples making the king chuckle. Baldwin seemed to enjoy how informally you spoke.

"Guy is... something else. I apologise on his behalf." You could sense him smiling under his mask. You gave a small smile, but truthfully, your head was actually hurting a lot. You could only hope this was not a migraine developing.

"Would you like tea? Or wine?" He asked as he called in a servant. "Just water for me, thank you." You said, closing your eyes for a few moments as the sharp ache in your head increased.

Baldwin's eyes remained on you, a calculated gaze. "Are you alright? Should I call in the physician?" You shook your head. As if you could trust physicians of this time. "No, I'll be fine after I sleep." You have some medical potions with you that could heal your basic diseases and pains. A gift of modern medicine. But you'll have to use it discreetly, lest someone from this era discovers it and calls you a witch.

The servant soon brought in a chalice filled with water for you and you immediately took a sip of the cool water. Baldwin stood up as he walked over to the window, looking out into the dark night.

"Can I ask you something personal?" You asked. He hummed. You stared at his back, the white cloak he was dressed in. "Do you think if you never had this disease, would you still be a great king? A king who is so motivated to make his kingdom as successful as he can before his time is up?"

He looked back at you, and for a second you wondered if you had slighted him. But these past few months, you've learned to read his body language, despite how hard he conceals both himself and his thoughts.

"No." He said, turning back to the window. "I probably would've been a spoiled brat, I don't think I would've even been chosen to be king. I would've lost it to my half brothers." He tilted his head as he looked at a particular star in the sky. "I suppose my disease is a blessing. God blessed me with it to humble me. Had He not, I probably wouldn't be religious."

"And is that how you see your suffering? A blessing from God?" You asked as you pulled out the medical vial from your cloak and poured it in your chalice. Your headache had started to pulsate now and you needed this.

"I do. I have to serve my people, and my suffering has brought me closer to them and to God. And even with my disease, I was made a king. Isn't that divine intervention? My purpose on earth?" He said almost monotonously, as if he's had this conversation a thousand times.

You took sip of your medicated water, headache immeadiately reducing in intensity. "So... if you had the chance, would you still be the leper king? Or would you be healthy but... not a king? Just a man who gets to experience life like the rest of us, eat normal food, play with others, walk without having to wear a mask, or even fall in love?"

He remained silent, but his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. Tired? Or defeated?

"I prefer not to think about things I have no control over, Y/n." He finally turned around and his blue eyes looked at yours, though this time, there was something else swirling in them. "Finish your water and head to bed. I don't think you're well enough to tell me a story tonight." You smiled gratefully. Over these past few months, the king had enjoyed the modern world stories you told him. Some were literature classics, like Romeo and Juliet, others were straight up fanfic plots with details missing because he wouldn't have understood them anyways.

You were about to pick up your chalice when suddenly Baldwin fell to the ground.

"Your Majesty!" You rushed over to him, watching him tremble on the ground as he struggled to breathe. You dropped to your knees and attempted to remove his mask, only for him swat your hand away.

"No! You'll get it too!" He said, his eyes screwing shut in pain. He was worried about you contracting leprosy.

"Just- trust me." You pursed your lips as you moved his hand away and removed his mask, before removing the white veil underneath it, which was there to prevent his peeling skin and sores from sticking to the iron mask.

You didn't gasp when you saw his disfigured face. No, you'd seen it already when they constructed his face using modern technology. You touched his forehead with your palm, noticing how warm it was. This was one of his leprosy fevers, it was serious and quiet painful. But you already know he doesn't die until 1185 and it's still 1180.

"I'll go fetch the physician-"

"No!" Baldwin yelled, struggling to breathe. "No- just-" He suddenly whimpered as pain shot through every fiber of his body, making him dig his heels into the ground. Your heart wrenched at the sight.

"Its- too- hot- i-" you looked around before grabbing your chalice and bringing it to his lips, holding his head in your lap, you helped him drink the water. He drank it all, his forehead now covered in sweat and his face still contorted in pain. You held his hand and squeezed it.

"Its okay, Baldwin. I'm here. I'm right here." You whispered, his head resting in your lap as you gently wiped his forehead with your sleeve.

Baldwin stared up into your worried eyes, and that was the last thing he saw before he passed out.

-

Baldwin woke upto screaming. Opening his eyes, his blurred vision slowly cleared upto watch you and Guy screaming at each other, the latter had his hand clawed into your hair.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOURE TALKING TO, YOU WENCH?!" Guy yelled as he shook you harshly.

"A SPINLESS BEING NOT WORTHY OF BEING CALLED A MAN!" You spat back, eyes red with rage.

Guy's eyes widened at the insult before he raised his hand to strike you, but was stopped by Baldwin.

"Guy! Let her go!" Both of your heads snapped towards the king.

"Y-your Majesty?" Guy couldn't believe his eyes. He survived?

"I said- let. Her. Go!" Baldwin commanded as he stood up and walked over to them, making Guy immeadiately let you go and bow to him. Baldwin's eyes landed on you, and you gave him a small bow.

"Leave." Baldwin commanded, eyes fixed on you.

Guy looked up from his his bowing position. "Your Majesty, I'm so glad you're well-"

"I said, LEAVE!" Baldwin's voice boomed, his eyes never leaving yours. Guy scrambled put of the room quickly, and you started to leave as well, but Baldwin grabbed your wrist.

"Not you." He said, those blue eyes piercing into you. "I- how long was I out?"

"2 weeks." You replied.

Baldwin let out small gasp as he let go of your hand and slowly walked towards the mirror in his room. It was quiet for a minute.

"What... happened?" He asked, looking at his reflection.

"Well, after you fainted, I called in the physicians and they took you to your chambers. They had prepared some medication but were hesitant to apply it on you, fearing they'd contract your disease. So, I convinced them to let me do it since I had already touched you. When I was done, your sister, princess Sibylla and Guy came. Guy asked the physicians when you would be dying, and the physicians said a few days and that this time- you may not wake up from your fever. While your sister broke down, and honestly I'm not trying to create problems for you guys, but you could ask anyone and they'd tell you just how much Guy beamed at the news. Anyways, they both left soon after that. Things were quite for a week, with the physicians coming in to give me the medication to apply on you. Then-" you paused trying not to show your frustration in your voice. "In the second week, Guy started fussing around and throwing tantrums since you didn't die yet. I mean, I was in your room but I could still hear him yelling at the physicians outside about how his coronation was being delayed because you were still here. It pissed me off, but you know me- I'm not one to get into family matters. So I didn't do anything. Then today-! Ugh, he came in while I was in your bathroom and I saw him grabbing a pillow and bringing it near your face. He stopped when I chucked your bible at him- so sorry about that but it was nearest thing next to me- and I just asked what he was doing. And do you know what he said? He had the nerve- THE NERVE to say 'I'm just trying to end his suffering, in fact you should do it. I can't risk contracting leprosy, I'm the future king!' And then I chucked your golden cross at him- again very sorry for that. And then we got into an argument and well- that's what you woke up to."

It was quiet again. You looked at Baldwin staring at his reflection, and for a moment, you thought he wasn't listening to you.

Baldwin nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Y/n. You may go to your room now. I will send in some physicians to check if you've contracted leprosy."

You frowned. "I havent-" but you stopped. How were you supposed to explain to him that you're "vaccinated".

In the mirror, his eyes shifted to you. "I know, but I'd like to know for sure. For my peace of mind."

You nodded. "Look, I'll go apologise to Guy right now-"

"No. There's no need. I'll talk to him myself. You've done enough. Please go to your room and wait for me." Baldwin gave you a small smile and watched you leave.

Moments later, he had a guard fetch the head physician in, who confirmed your story.

"Its true, your Majesty. Y/n risked her life to be with you for the past 2 weeks. She didn't leave the room and would apply medication on you herself, changed your clothes, wiped your sweat and even fed you some soup herself. She seemed very determined- almost as if she knew you'd recover. I'm ashamed to admit that I... I did not think you would." The physician even confirmed all the shit Guy had been doing, but Baldwin didn't need anyone's testimony to know that Guy was planning his downfall- and celebrating it. He wasn't surprised by that.

He was surprised by 2 things:

1. You hadn't contracted leprosy.

2. He was recovering from his disease.

"Its true. As you'd asked, I had done a check up on Y/n and I did not find any signs of leprosy... or any disease. She's as fit as can be!" The physician said in awe.

Baldwin smiled at that, looking at the mirror again. His own skin had begun healing. Many of his sores had already disappeared, and his complexion was returning to normal. And physical appearance was one thing, but Baldwin could even feel himself healthy on the inside. That constant ache in his bones was gone, the fatigue was gone, the suffering was gone.

But how? How could it just go away like that?

It's been 2 days since he woke up, and his health only seems to be improving at an exponential rate. And he's still trying to figure out how he got well out of nowhere. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the events of that night.

All he remembers is falling down, fever enveloping his body so quickly, he felt like he was burning up, and then you were there and you helped him drink-

Baldwin eyes snapped open. It made sense.

He called in the guard and had him fetch his senior council members in his court room.

"I have 2 surprises for you." Baldwin said as he sat on his throne, looking over the members (Sibylla and Guy were also present), all staring and perhaps gawking at how well he looked now. "My disease is cured. I no longer suffer from leprosy." The court immeadiately fell into whispers and mutterings before going silent when he raised a hand. "I know it sounds impossible, but as you can all see, my health has not only improved but in fact I have become stronger. My body is no longer ridden with sores and boils. I no longer wear a mask, neither do I require assistance in walking. In fact, I am even able to use both of my hands to not only use a sword but also-" He pulled out a dagger and aimed it an apple he threw in the air, piercing right through it. "- I am no longer blind in one eye."

The court erupted in cheer, congratulating the king and praising God for saving Baldwin and the kingdom. From his throne, he could see Sibylla clapping in joy and wiping tears from her eyes as she smiled at him, while Guy looked at him in shock.

"Your majesty! What's the other surprise?" One of the members asked.

Baldwin smiled as he stood up.

"I have found a wife. She's the one who healed me."

He looked at the court that had once again erupted into cheer.

"Jerusalem has a new Queen."

-

"What do you mean I can't leave?" You asked the guard who was stationed outside your door.

"Ma'am, as I said before, the king has asked you to wait for him and ordered us to not let you leave until he comes." He said before closing the door again.

You scoffed. Can't leave? Why the hell not?

It's probably because I insulted Guy. He wants to punish me because of that. Will he throw me in the dungeons? Or will he just have my head chopped off?

You pulled out your time machine, the small box in your hands.

Well, I'm not sticking around to find out. Time to leave-

Just then, you heard the door open, making you hide the machine again. Is he finally here?

"Princess Sibylla." You bowed.

She chuckled, grabbing your shoulders. "Now, now. There's no need for that. In fact, I have to be the one bowing to you now." She said before kissing your cheeks. She's always been very humble and kind, and over the past few months, you've developed a good friendship with her.

You gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?" She laughed again. "Oh come on. You don't have to hide it anymore. Tell me, how did you persuade Baldwin to marry?"

"The king is getting married? To who?"

Sibylla raised a brow at you. "To-"

"Sibylla." A voice cut her off.

Baldwin was standing at your door. You bowed quickly, he looked at you before shaking his head at his sister.

"Will you leave? I have to talk to Y/n."

Sibylla nodded as she walked towards the door, but not before giving him a hug and congratulating him.

You two were alone now.

Baldwin had his hands clasped behind him as he walked closer to you.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, eyes shifting to his hands. Is he holding a knife? To punish you for insulting Guy?

"I'm well, all thanks to you." He replied.

"Huh?" You looked at him confused, but your mind was still occupied with his hands. What is he hiding?

I need to delay this and find an escape route to use my time machine. You thought.

"Um- I uh- I heard you're getting married." You gulped, eyes still fixed on his hands, trying to anticipate any sudden movements.

"I am."

"Oh um, congratulations."

"Thank you." Baldwin said, tilting his head slightly at your wide eyes fixed on his hidden hands.

Cute.

"Y/n." He called out to you.

"Look, if you- if you're still mad at me about what I said to Guy, I apologise. But- but just so you know, I- I DONT THINKS ITS GOOD OMEN TO MURDER ME BEFORE YOU GET MARRIED!"

"Y/n."

"I WILL HAUNT YOU-! IM SORRY BUT I WILL AND I WILL HAUNT YOUR WIFE AND YOUR KIDS-"

"Y/n!" You looked at him as he stared at you with amusement. "You're being ridiculous."

"Huh?"

With one hand, he cupped your cheek as he brought himself closer.

"Why would I kill my soon-to-be wife?"

What? Wait-

"What?!" You shrieked backing away. "What kind of joke is that?!"

Baldwin looked insulted. "I wouldn't joke about this. You're very important to me."

"No- I- what?!"

He sighed as he sat on your bed. "Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? You saved me from an incurable disease, clearly you're the Chosen One, sent to me by God, and now I'll marry you."

You looked at him perplexed. "What are you talking about?! Saved you? All I did was help you drink water, apply your medication and-" you paused.

Helped him drink water... from my chalice... the one with... the medicinal vial.

"No." You covered your mouth in shock. What have I done?! This would change history completely! Shit. Shit. shit shit shit-

"Yes. You dont have to be so worried. The council is actually quiet happy that Im marrying someone, and they agree that there is no better match than the woman who saved my life-"

"I did not save your life!"

"Of course, you did. You gave your chalice-" "How is that even possible?! It only had water!" "Water that touched your lips first. Of course, it mustve been your essence, your saliva that healed me-" "Ew, no. Do you even yourself?! This is all unbelievable!"

Baldwin furrowed his brows slightly. "Its... not. I mean, look at you. You spent weeks taking care of me, you touched me, and yet did not even show signs of any illness, let alone leprosy! Of course, youre the chosen one!"

"I am not the chosen one!" You yelled as you pulled at your hair frustratedly. How could you fuck up so bad? If Baldwin really is cured, then history will be changed- and it will have disastrous impacts on future-

Baldwin pulled your hands away from your hair, tutting at you. "Dont do that. Youre the Queen, you cant hurt yourself."

"I am not the Queen."

He nodded. "Yet. But you are a princess now." Baldwin said as he pulled out the box hed been hiding behind his back all this time. Before you could even react, he'd already pulled out the big gold ring with a sapphire that had tiny diamonds around it and he slipped the ring onto your finger. You gawked at the ring making him chuckle.

Baldwin bent down to kiss your forehead sweetly before tapping your cheek admonishingly.

"Now, no hurting yourself princess. I want my queen in perfect health." Your cheeks reddened at how close he was, making him laugh even more as he pecked your forehead again and turned to leave.

You couldn't even say anything, he'd left you speechless. He looked back once, a lazy smile on his face.

"I should leave you to rest now, before Sibylla returns and starts pestering you with wedding preparations. She told me that shed been looking forward to this day for a very long time."

so this is part 1. thoughts????

PART 2 here!