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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Insecure.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Toxic!Wanderer x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: Modern AU, AFAB!Reader, Non///Con, Public Sex, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Wildly Unhealthy Relationships, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Intimidation, and Self-Oriented Victim Blaming From Reader. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. No Seriously Dude Those Doves Are So Dead.

[Part One]

“This is boring.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s too hot to be outside. And this place reeks.”

“You’re wearing long sleeves in the middle of summer, and it’s a college campus. I don’t know what you expected.”

“You look hot.”

You let out a disgruntled groan, leaning back in your seat and bringing a hand up to your temple. Kunikuzushi seemed to drink in your agitation, crossing his arms, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smug grin. “How did you even know I was here?”

His answer was immediate, non-verbal. He held up his phone, the screen blatantly and proudlydisplaying a simple grid-map and, of course, a little blue dot settled into the grey backdrop. You felt something start to ache in the back of your skull. “You’re tracking my phone?”

“Yeah, right, your phone.”

You started to buckle into yourself, but stopped yourself. You were in public – tucked into the smallest corner of your campus’ most out-of-the-way common area, sure, but still in public. There was a group of students gathered around one of the bigger tables less than ten feet away, and another couple just behind them. You used to fight with Kunikuzushi so often. You’d never resorted to public screaming matches, but you’d never had to think twice before storming out of bars and cafes, never thought twice about blocking his number or throwing away his flowers or telling anyone who’d listen that you were absolutely, definitely, totally going to break up with him for good, this time. Now, you couldn’t find it into yourself to be so brash. You couldn’t stand the idea of being seen with him, let alone calling more attention to yourself. It felt like you were one slip-up, one arm draped around your waist, one ring of bruises wrapped around your neck before someone saw through you, guessed what kind of person Kunikuzushi was and confronted you about why you’d stay with someone like that. You were afraid of him, sure, but you were more afraid of what would happen if people realized just how scared you really ought to be.

Not that you wanted to be with him. You wanted to move across the country, to burn your clothes and cut your hair, to change your name and pretend he’d never so much as lookedat you, but your options were limited. He’d taken care of your internship the day you’d moved in with him, and he bought you out of your lease within the same week. The few friends you still had after Kunikuzushi sunk his teeth into your social life were pushed to a distance, and the thought of running back to the same people who’d told you to stay as far from Kunikuzushi as you could get was enough to make you feel dizzy and exhausted, light-headed and glued to the floor all at once.

Even that, the idea that you could go to someone for help, was delusional. He barely let you go to class, and even that was a tedious connection, a privilege that could be revoked with a phone call and a new deadbolt on the door to his apartment. He didn’t like it when you had things to think about that didn’t revolve around him, and while keeping him happy was in the best interest of your safety, dropping out wasn’t an option. You could find another place to live. You could find another internship. But, if flunked out, if you failed too many classes, you’d lose your scholarship. If you lost your scholarship, you wouldn’t be able to graduate. If you didn’t graduate…

You had to graduate. You had to.

You weren’t sure you’d ever be able to get away from Kunikuzushi, if you didn’t.

You heard a scoff, felt the table shake as Kunikuzushi drove his heel into one of its legs. “Y’know, it’s rude to ignore people. ‘specially after I came all this way just to spend time with you.”

You must’ve zoned out. You hadn’t meant to, you never wanted to give Kunikuzushi an excuse to shorten your leash even further, but it’d been happening more and more. On your best days, you could keep yourself grounded, stay in your own body long enough to make it seem like you were managing what has left of your life. On your worst days… well, you didn’t remember much of your worst days. You usually couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. Kunikuzushi loved your worst days. “Sorry,” you mumbled, more out of reflex than any genuine remorse. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Like I said, I wanted to spend time with you.” He shrugged, still grinning. “You should drop out.”

Just like that, your heart dropped into your stomach. If you hadn’t been in public, if you weren’t so disconnected from what went on in your own mind, you might’ve cried.

Instead, you bowed your head. Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be, but it was a small miracle you could force yourself to speak at all. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Since when do you think for yourself?” He wasn’t fazed. The question was accompanied by a slow, breathy laugh, a flash of teeth as he leaned forward, propping his head on his fist. “I mean, c’mon, it’s not like you’d actually use a degree. I’m already taking care of you.” He dropped lower, taking on a raspy lilt. “All you’ve gotta worry about is keeping me company and taking my—”

You cut him off with an indignant huff, already recoiling. You moved to stand, to get away from him, but felt a pair of hands cover your eyes before you could. There was a familiar laugh, the feeling of curly hair bruising against your cheek, and then a melodic voice playing just beside your ear. “Guess who.”

For the first time that day, you couldn’t help but smile. “I know it’s you, Ajax. You’re the only person lame enough for this.”

There was a hum before he let you go, bracing himself on the back of your chair and leaning over you. He was dressed like he always was – which was to say, like it was the middle of winter, his coat long enough to reach his ankles and thick enough to make you shudder with sympathy pains, your agony unaided by the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. Maybe you shoulddrop out, or transfer, at least. Between him and Kunikuzushi, you were starting to think there was something in the air that made people want to get heatstroke. “Hey, I’m just trying to surprise my favorite study-buddy. You looked like you could use a little cheering up.” He glanced toward Kunikuzushi, then flashed you a knowing grin. “I know this guy tends to bring down the mood.”

Kunikuzushi sunk into his seat, his smugness immediately overshadowed by agitation. “Oh, you know each other?”

“We’re coworkers,” Kunikuzushi answered, glaring daggers toward Ajax.

“Wait, you have a job?”

He didn’t indulge you with a response, only scoffing and throwing his head to the side. Ajax took up the mantle. “Honestly, I’m more surprised to see him hanging out with someone outside of work. Always struck me as the ‘lone wolf’ type, if you know what I mean. If I knew you two were friends, I would’ve made more of an effort to drag him to our—"

As he spoke, his hand came to rest on your shoulder, but he’d barely touched you when Kunikuzushi pushed himself to his feet, already snarling. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.” Reflexively, Ajax pulled back, holding his hands up defensively, and with a ragged breath and a half-hearted effort to calm himself down, Kunikuzushi went on. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to touch someone’s fiancé, idiot?”

This time, Ajax’s laugh was slightly more strained, his posture slightly more stiff. “Yeah, uh, right. My bad, dude.” He moved to ruffle your hair (his most common send-off, no matter how often you groaned and complained that you’d look like a mess for the rest of the day), but stopped himself quickly – rubbing the back of his neck. “I… didn’t realize you were engaged.” Despite his stiffness, he managed to offer you a small smile. “See you in class?”

“Save me a seat.” And then, letting your eyes fall to your feet, “Sorry about him, he’s…”

“Territorial, I get it. I’d be a little jealous too, if I managed to get a ring on your finger.”

He winked, and before you could roll your eyes, he’d turned on his heel and disappeared around the nearest corner, melting into the throng of milling students. Once he was gone, you turned back to Kunikuzushi, still seething. That was one of the worst things about being with Kunikuzushi. It wasn’t enough to make your life miserable, he had to make sure you didn’t have anything left to live for. “Why would you tell him we’re engaged?”

“I’ll get you a ring.” You opened your mouth, but he was talking before you had a chance to cut in. “This is why you shouldn’t bother with this shit. All you’re going to do is waste your time and get hit on by desperate losers trying to get their dicks wet.”

“As opposed to staying home with you, where I can get hit on by one desperate loser trying to get his dick wet.” You shook your head, but shut your mouth and stood up before he could pull you into a real argument. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you turned away from him, starting in the direction of your lecture hall. “I have to get to class. We can talk about this later.”

Before he could protest, you made your way out of the common area. There was a beat of silence, a brief moment of respite. Then, you heard his footsteps pick-up behind you, settling into pace with your own. You glanced over your shoulder and, predictably, found Kunikuzushi walking behind you. “What do you want now?”

“You’re going to class,” he said, a smug grin already tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m coming with you.”

You frowned. “It’s a general credit. You’ll be bored out of your mind.”

“I don’t care.” He took your hand in his, squeezing gently when you tried to pull away. Immediately, you stopped resisting, hyper-aware of the way his blunt nails scraped against your skin, of how intensely his eyes burnt into yours. “Is it a crime to want to spend as much as time as I can with my fiancé?”

You shuddered involuntarily. You couldn’t tell if jealously staking his claim to you during a minute-long conversation with your classmate and his coworker was genuinely his idea of a proposal, or if he just took joy in the way you flinched every time he threw that word around. Either way, you didn’t like it.

“Fine, whatever.” You shrugged open the door to one of the more rustic buildings on campus, dragging Kunikuzushi along with you. “Just don’t cause a scene, okay? I’m really not in the mood.”

He only smiled, letting his head lull to the side. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from him, focusing on the crowded hallway in front of you instead. Your class was in one of the larger lecture halls on campus – stadium style, oppressively beige, the rows of desks curved around the raised stage at the front of the room. It was already mostly full, too, thanks to how long Kunikuzushi had held you up. You made a brief effort to find Ajax before deciding you didn’t want anyone you knew by name to see you latched onto your moody boyfriend and moved toward one of the middle rows, but he stopped you, digging his heels into the floor. “Sit in the front.” You sent him a look that said ‘what the fuck do you want now?’, and he grinned. “What? I’m trying to do you a favor.”

“You can do me a favor by letting me get through this with minimal psychic damage.” You dragged him to the back of the hall and slid into a relatively empty row, trying to stay as far away from the other students as you could. In spite of his stubbornness, his preference to control everything down to how often you blinked, he didn’t fight it, just slipping into the seat next to you, leaning back and watching on as you pulled out a half-mangled notebook and a couple pens. You knew you wouldn’t be able to focus, much less take notes with Kunikuzushi hovering over your shoulder, but you wanted to at least pretend you didn’t care about him and his leering for the next two hours. It wasn’t like he’d leave you alone once you got back into the confines of his stifling, barren apartment, so you had to take advantage of what little peace you’d be able to get, today.

By the time your class started, he was fully reclined, his arms crossed and his expression slack in boredom. The rows hadn’t been crammed as closely together as possible, he might’ve propped his feet on the desktop, shut his eyes, done everything he could to show just how disinterested he was in the lecture he’d demanded to sit through.

By the ten-minute mark, he’d pulled his chair next to yours, watching over your shoulder as you jotted down what little of the professor’s lecture you could hear over the sound of your race heart. You didn’t like it when Kunikuzushi got so close to you, anymore. It was hard to remember why you ever had.

Twenty minutes in, you felt his hand ghost over your leg, his fingertips grazing past your thigh. You tried to brush it off, to ignore him, but his hand settled onto your knee and you snapped up to glare at him. “What are you—”

He shushed you, leaning against your side. “Keep your voice down. We’re in class, remember?”

You frowned, but relented, turning your attention back to the front of the classroom. You resigned yourself to pointedly ignoring him, jotting down incoherent notes and attempting to drown out Kunikuzushi’s looming presence with the professor’s droning lecture. You’d almost blocked him out by the time he started moving, again, kneading the plush of your thigh gently, his dull nails burrowing into your skin just a little too deeply to ignore. Determined, you didn’t react, but that didn’t faze him. His hand only crept higher, catching the hem of your shorts and toying with the thin fabric, forcing you to acknowledge just how little you’d done to fend him off. If you’d known he was going to visit you on campus, you would’ve worn jeans, or made more of an effort to avoid him. If you’d known he was going follow you into class just to harass you, you would never have gotten up in the first place.

You jumped as his fingers slipped under the fabric, fanning out against your skin. With an airy sigh, you leaned back, already swatting away his hand. You spoke under your breath, trying to hide the way your voice shook. “Fine. If you’re going to be a brat about it, we can go home.”

“And ruin your attendance?” His tone was pleading, muted but dripping with something thick and saccharine. “I can’t let you do that, baby, not when your grades are so importantto you.”

You tried to get up, but he drew back, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you back into your seat. “I tried to take you home, but no, you decided that sitting in a dusty room with that fucking redhead was more important to you than me.” He hauled you closer, holding his mouth next to your ear. “If you decide to go home now and waste more of my time, I promise, you’ll be in for something much worse than anything I can do to you here.”

For the second time that day, you froze, suddenly unable to move. Kunikuzushi took your silence as submission, kissing your cheek before his hand fell back to your thigh.

This time, he was kind enough (or cruel enough) not to play coy, not to try to hide what he was going to do. He squeezed your thigh with enough force to bruise before delving into the space between your legs – his middle finger tracing over the seam that ran over the length of your cunt, only pausing to rub circles into your clit through the material. You really, really should’ve worn something else, something thicker, something that would’ve put you at a distance from his invasive touch. You would’ve given anything not to feel that slow, painful friction, not to recognize the aching curl of arousal starting to form in the pit of your stomach. Kunikuzushi was an asshole – a possessive, controlling asshole – but he knew you. He knew your weak points. He’d held you down and exploited them until you knew that as well as he did.

With two fingers, he pressed into your clit, and you jolted into yourself. Reflexivity, you tried to clench your thighs shut, but Kunikuzushi caught you by the knee and spread your legs farther, making more room for him to work between them. “Play nice.” He was whispering, but you wished he wouldn’t talk at all. You wished he’d keep his mouth shut and let you suffer in silence. “You don’t want to make this into a show, do you?”

You didn’t. God, you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine anything worse than getting caught, than having someone notice and scream and draw attention to what Kunikuzushi was doing to you. In the best case scenario, he’d stop and you’d have plausible deniability, pretend that you believed you could say your overly affectionate boyfriend was just being touchy and someone would buy it. In the worst case scenario, in the most likely scenario, he wouldn’t, and you didn’t know how you be able to live with yourself if someone saw you like this. Would you have to appear in front of the dean to apologize that your boyfriend had fingered you in front of a captive audience? Would there be paperwork? Would any of the blame fall on Kunikuzushi, or would you be the one held responsible for what he couldn’t stop doing to you?

You shook your head frantically, clenching your eyes shut and balling your hands into fists. Kunikuzushi clicked his tongue, cooing in mock-disappointment. “That’s just mean, baby. First you don’t want to admit we’re in love, now you don’t even want to be seen with me. Next, you’ll want to forget I exist altogether.” He flicked his wrist, and you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek. “And you remember how well it went for you last time you tried to ditch me, right?”

It was a labored effort, jerky and jolting, but you forced yourself to inhale, to straighten your back, to curl your hands around the corner of the desktop and make a passing effort to ground yourself, but Kunikuzushi wouldn’t let you have your peace for very long. You let out a small sigh as he pulled back, but your relief was short-lived – ripped away from you the moment his fingers found your waistband, slipping into your shorts before you could so much as delusionally hope he'd show you mercy. There was a breathy laugh, two fingers pressed into your clit. “Christ, you’re soaked,” he muttered, his delight audible. “I still can’t believe I turned you into such a fucking slut.”

You tried to shrink into yourself, to cross your arms over the desktop and hide your face, but Kunikuzushi caught you, keeping you upright and leaving you to bury your face in his shoulder. The desk would’ve been more soothing. He was moving too quickly, his arm shifting uncomfortably against your chest as he rubbed tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, as he fell lower – his ring and middle fingers dipping into your drenched pussy in quick, shallow thrusts that only seemed to make you more aware of the slick starting to drip down the inside of your thighs. Your professor was still talking, but the lecture was incomprehensible, drowned out by the wet squelching of Kunikuzushi’s digits thrusting into you, somehow barely audible and skull-crushing deafening all at once. No one else could hear it. It just wasn’t an option; it wasn’t a possibility. You couldn’t let yourself start to think about what would happen if someone else heard it.

He was merciless, grinding the heel of his palm into your clit as his slender fingers pumped into you. He didn’t pause, didn’t experiment, just held himself to the same monotonous, uniform thrusts, punishing you with a brutal pleasure you just couldn’t seem to escape. His fingertips scraped against something soft and needy inside of you and reflexively, your hands shot to his arm, your nails burrowing into his sleeves and biting into his skin. If he felt it, he didn’t seem hurt. Kunikuzushi only laughed, resting his head against yours and falling into a brutal, unfaltering tempo.

Distantly, you heard paper sliding against wood, pages turning, then a low whistle. “Why didn’t you tell me you could draw?” If you’d been able to think, you might’ve been angry. If you’d been able to do anything, you might’ve pulled your notebook away from him and made sure he couldn’t taint any part of you he hadn’t already ruined, but you couldn’t so much as imagine opening your eyes, much less trying to get away from him, again. “It’s cute. If you’re good, I’ll get you a real sketchbook – better than this cheap shit.”

It shouldn’t have felt as patronizing as it was. It shouldn’t have stung, just to know he was looking at something you’d never thought to keep away from him. It shouldn’t have hurt any more than anything he was already doing to you, and yet, you shrunk into yourself, something in your chest withering and dying off as he continued to flip through your notebook, to split you open on his fingers. A third digit was added, his touch now deep enough for you to feel the chill of his rings against your entrance. There was a pang of tension, a slight pain to accompany the stretch, but the buzzing in the back of your mind, the knot pulling tighter and tighter as he pulled his way deeper into you. You curled around him, something hot and piercing rising up from your core, creeping into your veins until—

Until Kunikuzushi pulled away without warning, only pausing momentarily to drag his hand over your thigh and smear your own slick across your skin. If you hadn’t known him so well, if you hadn’t been with him so long, relief might’ve softened your confusion, but you weren’t naïve enough to think that he’d suddenly found a pocket of kindness in his cold, stony heart. He didn’t try to tease you, either, to string you along and make you think that he’d let you go with an anti-climax and a few probing comments. He was cruel, but he didn’t like to waste his time. He didn’t have to pretend he didn’t want to play with his favorite toy.

With a small smile and a darkglint in his eye, he took your notebook and achinglyslowly, slid it off of the desk and watched passively as it toppled to the floor. Seconds after it landed, he sighed, shaking his head before pressing a fleeting kiss into the corner of your mouth. “You’re so clumsy, babe. I just don’t know what you’d do without me.”

Realization dawned on you like blood rising into the back of your throat. You hugged his arm closer to your chest, hoping beyond hope that he’d see your distress and for once, hold himself back from taking what he wanted. “Kuni, please don’t do—”

“Save it.” He didn’t even hesitate, tearing his arm out of your vice-grip without so much as a trace of strain. “You can thank me when we get home.”

You didn’t get another chance to protest before he dipped down, slipping out of his seat and below the desk. You spared a glance in either direction. You were in an aisle seat. Your row was mostly empty, and you could only hope that the people sitting behind you couldn’t see Kunikuzushi between your legs, his mouth already pressed into the inside of your thigh. Without someone to hold onto, you were left to cross your arms over your chest and try to school your own expression, to look like you hadn’t just had your orgasm torn away from you, like your ex-turned-overly-attached boyfriend wasn’t on his knees with his face buried between your legs. It was a small comfort, knowing he couldn’t do anything worse than this, not unless he wanted to bend you over the teacher’s desk and fuck you with an audience.

It was terrifying, knowing he couldn’t possibly do anything worse than this.

Your breath hitched as you felt his fingers curl underneath your shorts, dragging the flimsy material down your legs and letting it pool around your ankles. You were wearing an oversized shirt, and your jacket was long enough to obscure everything above your mid-thigh, but you still shuddered, still had to fight the temptation to snap your thighs shut as soon as you felt the cool air against your slick cunt. Kunikuzushi was quick to block that out, too. You felt the flat of his tongue lap over your entrance, a soundless moan reverberating against your pussy and up the length of your spine. This time, when you bit down on the inside of your cheek, you didn’t stop until you tasted blood.

Now, now, he decided to draw out your agony. You could feel his searing breath against your pussy as he chewed bruises into your thighs, painting love bites across your vulnerable skin that you could only hope wouldn’t be visible when you were finally able to shamble out of this lecture hall as a mangled, fucked-out wreck. When your legs twitched, his hands found their way to your ankles, pinning your feet to the ground as he latched onto your clit, dragging his tongue in loose, careless patterns as he sucked gently – giving you enough stimulation to leave you irritated and antsy but still withholding any anything real, anything satisfying. If you’d been in his bed, or on his kitchen counter, or laid across the backseat of the car he barely knew how to drive, you could’ve hidden your face in his sheets or clawed at his shoulders or screamed bloody murderer while he sucked and licked himself into a pussy-drunk stupor. You were never overly vocal – you couldn’t be, when you knew Kunikuzushi would take and abuse anything you said under the influence of his harsh affection– but now, you couldn’t afford to so much as tear-up, to rake your fingers through his hair, to whimper as his tongue thrust into you, just as awful as his fingers and twice as hot. You made the mistake of glancing towards him, of letting him catch your eye as a wide, arrogant smirk spread across his parted lips, a dark flush now painted across his pale cheeks. You looked away as quickly as you could, but it didn’t matter. His hands came up to your knees as he dragged your legs apart, giving himself more space to work between them. That had to be the worst thing about Kunikuzushi. No matter what you did, no matter how little you gave him, he’d always find a way to get off on it, to convince himself it was just your little way of retuning his fucked-up love.

Desperate for something to latch onto, you crossed your arms over the desktop and clawed at the polished wood. The bridge of Kunikuzushi’s nose ground against your clit and you buckled into yourself, burying your face in your arms and forgetting for just a fraction of a second to care whether or not you’d ever be able to show your face in public again. It took long, agonizing seconds to find the strength to raise your head, to frantically glance around the lecture hall for something, anything that would help you block out what he was doing to your body. Rather than a saving grace, you found a head of bright, ginger hair a few rows in front of you, the chair next to its owner vacant. Ajax, already staring over his shoulder, his piercing eyes wide and his expression blank with horror. As your gaze met his, as Kunikuzushi let out another throaty moan, the pressure mounted, that string of tension in your core snapping before you could attempt to hold yourself together. With your teeth grit and tears streaming down your cheeks, you came undone on Kunikuzushi’s tongue, a breathless whine forcing its way out of your throat as you collapsed back into your arms, completely limp.

Kunikuzushi nursed you through it, taking long moments to untangle himself from you, to press another kiss against your thigh, to pull your shorts back into place. You didn’t care. You were numb, your body humming with an awful sort of static, only interrupted by the weight of Kunikuzushi’s hand against the small of your back as he hauled himself back into his seat, pulling his sleeve across his mouth. Your notebook was still at your feet, splayed open and abandoned. You couldn’t seem to bring yourself to pick it up.

There was a kiss to your shoulder, then the top of your head. “Is it time to get out of here?”

You forced yourself to nod. You felt his arms wrap around you, one stringing under your knees and the other bracing against your back, keeping you pressed into his chest as he side-stepped back into the aisle and started for the door. A few students turned their heads, a couple stopping to ask if you were alright, but Kunikuzushi ignored them. Whatever. It wasn’t like you’d ever see any of these people again.

Kunikuzushi was taking you home, and as far as he seemed concerned, you’d never be leaving again.

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