#cw.yandere

[pinksilkribbons]

YANDERE! WEREWOLF: REESE

CW/TW: f!reader, werewolves (duh), some minor violence, breaking and entering, kidnapping, (slight) fear kink, breeding/impreg kink, scent kink, one dub-con ass slap, slight nsfw, not full smut, reese is just a pervert idk yall

this isn’t proof read and is kinda rushed don’t get on my ass if it sucks yall 😭 but yes this blog IS monster fucker friendly :)

Yandere!Werewolf whose pack stays deep in the woods.

Yandere!Werewolf who is expected to be the next leader of the pack once he finds a suitable mate.

Yandere!Werewolf who constantly gets in trouble with the elders.

“Reese you know better than to wander off! What if an outsider spotted you, huh?”

“It’s about time you take on a mate, don’t you think? You know you can’t take the throne until you find someone!”

Yandere!Werewolf who thinks all the pack elders are dramatic. He’s an alpha for fucks sake! The strongest there is. Only second to the pack leader himself.

So what if he wants to go beyond the woods sometimes? He can do as he pleases! As for a mate..he’ll get one when he sees fit!

Yandere!Werewolf who went out one night while everyone else was asleep. He was bored and restless.

Just as he was heading near the end of the woods he finds a small cottage that he knows hasn’t always been there.

It was real small, though. Way too small for any werewolf.

‘It can’t be…’

One peek won’t hurt right? He’s just gotta check and make sure it isn’t another werewolf. Gotta protect the pack after all!

With a cautious hand he slowly creaks open the bedroom window. Unfortunately, his long claws created a horrible screeching noise against the glass, definitely alerting the human- er, lone werewolf!

Alerting the lone werewolf of his presence.

Yandere!Werewolf who rushes inside in a panic. If he’s already given himself away it’s better to just hurry up and confirm his curiosity. Then, he’s going back home!

A part of him feels nervous. If it is a lone werewolf he shouldn’t have any trouble fighting them off. A human, though?

He’s heard plenty of horror stories. Especially of the humans who they call hunters. That entire species is the only reason why his pack must conceal their existence in the first place.

He hated to admit it, but the idea of encountering a hunter made his stomach churn.

But, even harder to admit, it made another part of him feel warm. The kind of warmness that made his knot flare up and sent him into an early rut.

“Hello? …Is anyone there?”

Reese felt his ear twitch at the soft, feminine voice. Her voice was smooth and wrapped around his body like a blanket.

He steps towards the voice.

“Please! Who’s there? Show yourself!”

The voice becomes more rushed. More panicked. More scared. Fuck, human girls sure are cute.

“Last chance! Or i’ll shoot you! I swear to god!!”

He’s getting closer. She’s right behind this door, in the bathroom. His hand snaps towards the knob, twisting it with a rush and-

BANG!

A sharp pain crushes his body, sending his body into an instant rage. A smoking hole leads straight through the door and right to his shoulder. Reese turns off his brain for a moment and lets his alpha take control instead.

He rips open the door with an animalistic growl, bits of wood flying everywhere. His eyes dart left and right before finally spotting the human, crouched down and shaking in fear.

She sports a long white dress that reaches her ankles. One that reminds him of maternity wear the women in his pack use during mating season.

His inner alpha chants at him to move.

To pounce at her and claim her for himself. Give her his seed, make her his mate, and give her plenty of pups that they could care for together.

The human smells real nice anyway. Definitely fertile. He doesn’t have a mate yet so…would it be so wrong?

Loud sobs bring him back to his senses. “Please mister, I ain’t do nothing to you!” She sinks further into herself if even possible.

The woman holds a small pistol close to her chest. He’s only encountered human weapons a few times and he’s not familiar with that one. That’s definitely what caused the damage to his shoulder though.

Reese is unsure about what to do. This whole thing went way different than he expected. The original plan was to just sneak inside, look at the human for a bit, then leave.

Now he has a hard dick and a bleeding shoulder. His pack would be in his ass if he came back injured with no head to show for it. Thats like admitting he was defeated by someone else.

Definitely not an option. Maybe he should kill her then?

Take her back home and give her your knot. The elders keep bothering you about finding a mate anyway. Who better to keep the pack safe from humans than a human herself?

“Kill two birds with one stone, right?” Mating the human seemed like the best way to get out of this with no consequences. The entire pack would be real jealous to find out he’s mated a hunter. Plus, she could provide extra protecting with her human weapon.

Reese approached the girl and crouched down to her height. His body easily towered over her, something his alpha really liked.

She’s real small. Smells so fertile. Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? Let’s take her home.

He smiled mischievously, sharp teeth sending a chill down your spine. He’s made his decision. “Alright, mate. You can quit crying. I won’t kill ya.”

You sniffled while slowly resting down the pistol. You’re out of bullets and this ..thing clearly isn’t any match for you. A part of you wonders if this is the werewolves your father constantly warned you about.

Werewolves ain’t real though. You a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb. Same way you ain’t dumb enough to believe this intruder isn’t here to kill you. He looked like he was gonna rip your head off just seconds ago.

“Just make it quick please,” You beg, fighting off more tears. Your daddy was right when he said nothing good comes out of living in these woods.

“You got it, baby! I’ll get us back home in no time.”

Reese grabs your frail body with ease, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. He chuckles lowly at the jiggle of skin against his hands.

All the while you’re thrashing against him and begging him to let you go. It actually surprised him to see you still resisting. Youre the one who told him to hurry up and get home!

You sure are confusing. No matter though. He’ll understand humans the longer he’s with you.

Cause one things for sure: you won’t be leaving anytime soon.

Yandere!Werewolf who wakes up the whole pack to alert them of his find. They all snarl angrily at the “hunter”, baring their claws aggressively.

Yandere!Werewolf who has to yell at everyone to back off. When he demands respect for his mate it goes silent. Everyone begins whispering, clearly surprised at his reveal.

Yandere!Werewolf that feels pride swell in his heart as each member bows down in respect. His mate looks shocked more than anything.

Yandere!Werewolf who laughs when you begin freaking out, not wrapping your mind behind the existence of werewolves.

“You’re a hunter, baby. I’m sure you know at least a little about our kind.”

Yandere!Werewolf who laughs even harder when you insist you aren’t a hunter. Only kind of humans that can hurt werewolves are hunters. You’re just a little scared right now!

Now quit lying to him before he gets mad.

Yandere!Werewolf who gets the approval of the current leader without even trying. It’s official now.

You will bear his pups, lead the pack by his side, and stay with him until he ceases to exist. How romantic.

“Hey. I forgot to ask. What’s your name, mate?”

Well, as romantic as Reese can get, anyway.

[petrichorium]

also on my hands and knees dying to know about ur divorce (and perhaps reconciliation maybe…) with sir croc

Firstly I wanna say croc is THE reason for the divorced tier I had everyone in the husband/fiance/bf (and cusp + complicated) tiers I had the list downloaded and then I looked at croc in the husband tier and I was like no. Divorced………

Anyway I think you’re a marriage of convenience at first. Crocodile needs a wife to look more like An Upstanding Citizen Ready To Settle Down for his plans in Alabasta, you need the stability and rapport for your own reasons. A deal was struck (including a nice shiny prenup and an easy way out for both of you), the wedding goes off without a hitch, and now you’re cohabitating.

You’re all but a stranger, truthfully, though he’ll admit you were one of the most beautiful brides he’s seen walking down the aisle. And he finds your presence in his home less distracting than expected—you stay out of his way mostly, though the pair of you eat meals together and sleep in the same bed and you are always expected to be on his arm for formal occasions. You’re more than decent company, slowly warming to him and growing more open; willing to give advice on occasion, even, and it’s good advice he’s prone to heeding.

Which is why he’s blindsided when you drop the papers on his desk. There’s little he can do—they were practically already signed before the wedding, and in the surprise he can’t compose himself enough to think up a proper protest. All he can do is fold his hands together as you turn to leave, clear his throat, and call out, “Might I ask why?”

You shrug. It almost seems sad. “I want something more. You’re a very busy man, I don’t think you can give that to me.”

And those words haunt him, all the more because every trace of you is gone in the span of a few days. He lays in his bed, alone, pondering how much you truly lived in his home and how much he truly had to give you. He thought he made sure you wanted for nothing—but, clearly, that wasn’t the case. And if he’d known you’d be gone in the span of a few years…

In hindsight perhaps he’d been a bit distant. His work took up the vast majority of his time. All those meals were more often than not spent in silence, with Crocodile leaving long before you finished your food; you were often asleep before he came to bed, still slumbering when he woke; he’d arrive to those formal events with you on his arm and part ways almost immediately, drawn to meet with some politician or another and leaving you on your own.

The bed feels empty.

And then he gets a report about Nefertari Vivi. It all goes downhill from there. The empire he spent years building crumbles beneath his feet, toppled by that godforsaken princess and the upstart pirate with a straw hat. And as he’s carted off to Impel Down… he still thinks of you.

It’s perhaps a good thing that you left when you did. In a certain sense it saved you, severing ties with him when you did. But foolishly he wonders about the timing—wonders if it would have happened at all if you’d stayed. Logically he knows the rationale is anything but sound.

Instinctively… whenever he gets out, whatever he intends to do next, he thinks he needs you at his side again.

So when the break-out happens, and Crocodile is given a freedom he’d nearly given up on, the first thing he does is begin to track you down.

It takes more than he thought it would. His web of informants isn’t half of what it once was, and his name no longer pulls as much weight, forced to remain in the shadows as he now is. You, meanwhile, catch onto the mystery person trying to keep tabs on you far too quickly for his liking—flighty thing, never quite setting down roots, quick to flee at the first sign of danger. A trait that has only seemed to worsen in his absence, it seems.

But it’s only a matter of time. He’s Sir Crocodile after all, back from banishment to the depths of the ocean, sure to see the sun again. His men close in on you within a year as he builds up his numbers again, but Crocodile ensures he’s the first to make contact.

He intends to show you immediately how things will be different this time.

You’ve made temporary home on a quaint little island, sharing a house with a little old granny who lets him in eagerly when he presents a bouquet and says it’s for you. There he waits, served tea and biscuits that he doesn’t taste.

And then the door opens. You pause when you see him, eyes wide—donning a breezy sundress you’d never have worn for him in Alabasta, your hair wind-tousled so unlike the meticulous updos he always saw you in, with a basket of produce under arm—and the sight of you has his chest unwinding. It’s like he can breathe again.

Not that he had any intentions to before, but the smell of your familiar perfume steels his resolve to never let you disappear again.

[spitdrunken]

ugh i NEEEEED more of ur hypnosis content w/ vox!! he goes to waste in the hands of people who have NO IDEA how fucked up and sexy an insecure manipulative control freak stalker with mind control powers is <3

so far, u r the only writer who truly understands his rancid vibe

im glad i am feeding into the EXACT brainrot you want because it's the only brainrot i adore for vox LMAO he's a fucking loser <33

notes: yandere, hypnosis, manipulation

He tries to be so suave about how he's pulling you in, like it's some genius master plan of which he's pulling the strings behind the scenes. But, let's be honest with ourselves here, it's just kind of patchetic. If he's truly as charming as he attempts to portray himself, why would he even have to hypnotise to you in the first place? It's absolutely a 'him issue. Because even if you were to fall for him hook, line and sinker, prostrating yourself in utter adoration every day, he'd still put so-called 'safeguards' in place.

Vox would prefer to start with some smaller triggers. Sure, it'd be possible to have you immediately believe you're in love with him... But that doesn't feel like it's a victory well-earned. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Instead, he starts more subtle, leaving triggers through temporarily taking over the screen of your phone.

You think your screen is just glitching out for a moment when it flickers from red to white for a couple of seconds. What you don't know is that you simply don't remember the message left for you in between. He'll plant a seed in your mind, something small, like making you think of him every time you see the colour blue. To you, the association between him and the colour doesn't even register, so, perhaps you'll start to wonder as to why you're thinking about him so often- Perhaps you'll start thinking you have feelings for him.

He'll put you in a trance while you're around your friends or your partner, all because you do something as simple as checking your phone for directions. You end up coming to, alone, vague memories of snapping at your friends and saying horrible things to them flickering through your mind... But why would you do that? It doesn't make any sense! You hadn't been upset at all. But yet, you'd done it, and you keep pushing away everyone around you further and further.

You start to become paronoid, starting to lose your trust in your perception of reality. Memories start slipping through your fingers like sand, and you return to your senses to a long string of texts to nearly all of your contacts, that ends with you blocking them. You know you're in Hell, but your life was already shitty enough. This seems to be a bit too much. You think you're losing your mind.

Of course, it's when you are about your absolute lowest point when sweet, sweet Vox swoops in to save you from yourself. Perhaps you can't trust yourself any longer, but you can trust him... Can't you? A mere snap of his fingers is all that it takes to have you mindlessly nodding along.

[smallestapplin]

I love your stories and the way you write! I'd like to request a story for Alucard as a loving yandere, it's rare to see anyone writing for game castlevania these days!Perhaps female s/o originally found him and awakened him to help beat dracula together after Richter went AWOL and afterwards he took her with him home?

I am so sorry. You sent this back in august and I've been dying 😭 I hope you like it, though I'm very sorry if it's a little all over the place. Please enjoy QwQ also I love you, thank you for allowing me to write castlevania. I adore the games so much.

🔞Cw : light possessive/yandere thoughts🔞

Word count : 2,044

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When Alucard was awoken he expected to see a Belmont, or someone related to such, knowing the only reason to awaken him is for dire circumstances. Yet when his golden eyes opened to see who, it was just…you?

The tall vampire lowered himself to the ground, walking towards you. His eyes never leave your frame.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, but I knew you’d be the only one who could help us.”

“What happened.” He sighs, knowing exactly what you’re going to say.

“The castle of Dracula is back.”

Because of course, it is.

“But with its sudden appearance, Richter went missing!”

“Richter?” He supposes that’s someone of importance.

“Yes, he’s a Belmont and was determined to put an end to this, but he hasn’t been back for three years and that castle is still there. Please, I don’t know who else to turn to, no one else is strong enough to face the monsters of that castle.”

You don’t back away as he gets closer, it intrigues him.

He takes notice of how small you are compared to him, but that’s not saying much as he’s aware his height is not humanly possible to reach.

“You’re no Belmont, who are you?” His eyes never leave you, taking in every detail he can.

You have no courting gifts on your person, so you’re not a lover of one.

His ears twitch at the sound of your name, one which he repeats.

“I am a friend of the family, and I’m worried for him. I’d like to help you defeat Dracula and save my friend.”

He hasn’t had a companion in what, three hundred years? Oh, Trevor is mocking him in the grave, he just knows it.

“You may tag along, but I warn you this will take longer with you traveling with me. Dracula’s monsters are not to be underestimated.”

Why is it that when your eyes light up he feels something…warm inside his chest? He’s a monster just like the rest, he shouldn’t taint such lively humanity.

“Of course! I’ll do anything I can to help!”

The vampire hums, walking passed you as he takes his leave, with you tailing right behind him. He hates the feelings stirring inside him, he’s a creature of the night, a disgrace, and you are a saint in his eyes.

Day in and day out as you two travel, heading straight for Dracula’s castle, he can’t help but find himself smitten with you.

“Do you need to eat?”

“If you’re asking if I need blood, no I don't, I can eat whatever you bring.”

“Oh.”

He finds it so cute how you worry over him.

You’ve only met him days ago and yet you still insist on checking on him. You’re so warm, so inviting.

That Belmont is lucky to have someone like you as his friend.

But something twists in Alucard’s chest, something darker. Just how lonely had he been all this time? It was better for everyone in his mind, and yet here he is, longing for you to stay.

It grows each night as you sleep peacefully at your little campsite.

Every time he looks at your resting form, he can’t help but feel the urge to hold you, to have you, to listen to you whisper your love for him.

You wouldn't want a monster like him as a lover, he's a vampire for heaven's sake! You deserve someone who could properly love you as you should be.

And yet each night he finds himself sitting closer to you, each night he finds himself inching closer to your sleeping body.

If he's close enough he could feel your warmth.

How he wishes to curl around you, cape over you two just to bask in it.

The weeks it takes you two to get to the castle are some of the best and worst for Alucard.

You seem to find his dry humor and sarcasm hilarious, even shooting back with your sass.

He wonders how the Belmont managed to have you so close...

With the castle in sight, he can't help but feel a pit form in his stomach.

He's just one step closer to losing you.

"Alucard quickly, the gate!" Your voice brings him from his thoughts as he sees the gate's door being raised.

He huffs, grabbing you, having you over his shoulder as he sprints towards it. His vampiric speed lets him get there just before it closes.

And with a jump, he makes it, landing perfectly.

His arm around your hips and thighs doesn't loosen, but he can feel you shaking.

"Are you alright?" His voice was low, edging on being gentle.

You take a shaky breath, trying to steel your nerves.

"Yeah...yeah I'm okay. Just a warning next time, please?"

Next time? You want to spend more time with him, is that what you're saying? He carefully sets you down, making sure you're behind him as he turns to face the rest of the castle.

He narrows his eyes which stay locked onto the enemies ahead.

The low deep growls of the beasts before you keep you on guard.

"Stay behind me. I will protect you."

He stayed true to his word, you're almost certain he didn't even need you here. You watch in awe how the dhampir makes quick work of enemies, most of the time he'd catch them before they could even touch you.

In turn, if you could not put your sword to work, you decided to put your mage abilities to good use then, healing Alucard when the hips got to be too much for him.

Death couldn't get close to you, even when taking Alucard's items and yours. Yet you two held firm, pressing onward to put a stop to this and find your friend.

Walking through the castle, getting closer and closer to the end of the hallway you have to tell him.

"It's impressive how quickly you adapt to using weapons and items that aren't yours."

To you, you think he glances at you casually, as if he's done this all before.

But you miss the soft look in his eyes.

"My father and his minions made sure I could fight. I honed my skills in killing any monster in my path."

You know there must be so much to his story but you don't press for more, he's been through enough.

"Still, the skill of yours is deserving of praise. Do you think you could teach me sometime?"

Alucard can feel his heart pounding.

Why do his hands feel clammy? Has the room gotten hotter? Before he could answer as you two walk through the door, his words die in his throat at the sight of a human sitting in the stadium, laughing.

"Who are you?" But his question goes ignored.

"Servants, come forth from the gates of hell!"

Alucard widens his stance to fight, placing an arm in front of you to block you, yet his attention is pulled from the man to the two summoned monsters on either side of you two.

You jolt forward, hands on Alucard's bicep as you seem shocked.

"....Your blood. The scent of your blood. You're a Belmont!"

"Richter!" You finally call out, you should be relieved to see your friend is alive but it's tainted in confusion and hurt at his behavior.

"Attack! Rid my castle of these pests!"

With that he sits back, watching you and your companion fight for your lives against the Minotaur and werewolf. Though he's so disappointed when you two manage to beat them, and leaves before you could land the final blow.

You rush over to Alucard once it's safe, worry etched on your face.

"Are you okay? You didn't get hit too bad, did you?" You check him over, unaware of the emotions coursing through him at that moment.

He grinds a hand up slowly, placing it on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing across your skin.

"I'm alright, but what about you?"

He could feel a foreign feeling bubbling in his throat, almost akin to a purr when you lean into his touch.

"I'm fine. But that was Richter but he...he'd never want to resurrect Dracula, or do anything of this."

His heart hurts seeing you so conflicted.

"Worry not, we will stop him."

"Just...please don't kill him."

Alucard takes a deep breath, easing the anger welling up inside him. Do you want to protect that Belmont? He might've been your friend, but he just sicced monster at you two without a care.

He even had the nerve to call you a pest!

But how can he say no to the pitiful expression of yours?

"I'll do what I can."

Making your way once more through the castle, finding relics that you need, and trying to fight monsters for their items. You run into Maria, who's so happy to see you, even if she questions the stoic man next to you.

Alucard stays quiet as you two converse, though you seem relieved when she hands you the holy glasses. You're quick to hand them to Alucard.

He's already tired of everyone when he defeats a possessed Belmont, that annoys Priest Shaft by having the nerve to make him go through another castle.

But you are at his side, talking with him, healing him, and giving him just small touches to his arms and back.

He never realized how touch-starved he had become.

His quick strides become slow, he doesn't want this adventure to end, he needs to keep you with him.

He can't let you go, he can't let anyone hurt you.

As the castle goes up in a blinding light, he can faintly hear you happily chatting with your friends, how you sound close to tears knowing they made it alright.

The words of his father rang still clear in his ears.

'You're more like me than you think.'

He dreads ever thinking he'd be anything like Dracula.

But as he looks at you, he sees your smile.

He can understand his father's actions a little better.

Just the thought of you dying sends him into a frenzy.

"Alucard, I-"

"Come with me."

You jump back, a little shocked at his words.

"I'm...I'm sorry?"

The nearly seven-foot-tall man hunches over, making himself level with you.

"Join me in my travels. You make a perfect companion."

After watching you fight alongside him, even watching you fight the fake versions of his old friends in there.

How you came right back to his side to offer him comfort.

How you did the same right after the fight with the succubus.

He needs you.

You make him feel loved, and wanted, even if he's just a monster like the rest.

"What!? You can't expect them to go with you!"

His golden eyes lock with Richter's blue ones.

The Belmont looks flabbergasted the dhampir even suggested that.

"Richter, let them decide. They did save you and the world with his help you know."

He snaps his head towards Maria, mouth agape.

"I understand that, but who knows what other dangers they could face out there!"

Your chuckle brings them all to silence. Richter has always been so worried for you and your safety, much like a protective brother to you.

"Thank you for the concern, Richter, but I think I'll be fine." You look to Alucard, a soft smile on your face.

"I'd love to join you. This entire trip has been so much fun."

You can feel your knees go weak at the barely there smile that graces Alucard's face.

"I won't let you regret it."

As you bid farewell to your friends, promising to visit them.

You're blind to how Alucard eyes your neck.

If he turns you, you'd be stuck with him for the rest of your life, you could never leave him, and you'd be his betrothed for the end of time.

He could make or find you two a nice place.

Oh, he wants to hold you like he's dreamed of since the start of your journey.

And now you'll be alone with him, with no one expecting you home soon or at all.

You're his now.

He won't make the same mistake his father made, he will never leave you alone.

[ryukatters]

Ok so imagine:

Gojo is pretty emotionally disconnected from most, refuses to let himself get attached most of the time after everything thats happened to him.

And then you show up

He doesn’t want to slip up. He doesnt want to form another bond like that. But its like he can’t stop it. Maybe you just remind him of what he’s lost, maybe it’s the way you see him as him rather than “the strongest,” an annoyance, or something shallow. It happens slow, so slow he barely even picks it up, but the feelings bloom. You just enrapture him. And he remembers everything that happened last time he got so close to another person, and he’s terrified to accept it but terrified to turn it away and loose the last chance he might have at a relationship like that.

so he takes it, tries to claim you in every sense of the word. You’re weaker than him, possibly even an underling, so there’s definitely a power dynamic that makes it easier for him to keep control. Maybe he tries to keep you hidden, but maybe he likes to drag you around like a dog, only loaning you off to somebody else when it gets too dangerous. Either way, it’s not like you can run because he’d definitely find you. He is absolutely NOT going to lose something so important to him, not again. He’d do whatever it takes, even if it meant making himself look like the bad guy in your eyes because you understand him so well, so he’s sure he can turn your relationship back to the positive side with just a little explanation and coercion

(idk if this may be a bit ooc but… its been rotting in my brain ty for letting me dump it here)

trigger warnings/content: yandere, stalking, power dynamics, obsession, Gojo is a few years older than reader, no smut, just word vomit

It starts off small. You’re a budding sorcerer, a few years Gojo’s junior, and also a new teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, trying to adjust to your new job. Gojo takes it upon himself to mentor you. You don’t think anything of it, other than the fact that it’s a little intimidating to have the strongest sorcerer of the era to serve as your guide.

You’re strong, he can see. You’re hardened by a few rough years of working in the field, but even despite barely meeting you, your facade cracks and he can see the goodness underneath.

Gojo’s impenetrable most days. To a lot of people, he might be a loud, annoying nuisance, but to you, you see a broken man who tries to keep everyone at arm’s length at the expense of his pride and reputation as a formidable sorcerer.

Gojo’s extremely intelligent, and uses it to play his cards wisely. It took him years to build a persona that’ll prevent outsiders from ever looking in. You manage to unravel him day by day, and it almost frustrates him.

Almost.

Until he realizes there’s no point in fighting the inevitable— he’ll have to let you in eventually.

There’s a fear in Gojo’s eyes when he sees you. It’s like all tomorrows appear in a blink. Your entire essence, so good, so innocent about the cruelty of the world. It reminds him of innocence he once had in his youth. Something about you is so magnetizing, and no matter how much Gojo wants to fight it, he can’t help but be pulled in.

He wants you. And he wants you to want him. Need him. Desire him carnally in the way he does you.

Slowly, he lets you see parts of him that no one else has ever seen. His love is so overwhelming, and because it’s Satoru— with his sweet words and seemingly good intentions— he manages to have you fall for him too. And when he finally, officially has you (because let’s face it, he decided you were his long before that point), he manages to keep you under lock and key.

For your safety, he reasons.

After all— is he really the strongest if he doesn’t do what he can to keep you safe?

The rose colored glasses seem to wear off over time, and you start to see Gojo for the monster he really is.

It takes a few months of garnering courage to even attempt to begin planning your escape from him. You do it slowly, but carefully, calculating every step to make sure you don’t leave a trail behind.

You get one of the auxiliary managers to buy you a back up phone, set up a whole new bank account overseas, and eventually *secretly* book a ticket to a whole different country— one far from the grasp of Satoru Gojo.

Fate, by some miracle, seems to be on your side. Yaga calls both of you in for an emergency meeting. Gojo is being sent away on a week long mission abroad to snuff out a new curse user group that has connections to one here in Japan. You— a local mission to check out disappearances in a nearby town.

You can feel the hostility radiating from the man standing next to you. You dare to take a peek, and you see nothing but an airy smile. “Yaga, I’ll take care of their mission. It should be quick for me—“

“No, Satoru. They haven’t been on a mission in months, thanks to you being greedy and taking on everything. Being a good mentor means letting them take calculated risks.”

With that, both of you sign off on paperwork and begin to prepare for your respective missions. The atmosphere is tense in Gojo’s home— the same one he made you move into just a few months prior (“So you don’t have to worry about commuting so far. ‘Sides, there’s a lot of creeps lurking around out there, and I’m not talking about curses.”)

Gojo refuses to leave you until he makes sure that you’ll be safe. Borderline threatens Ijichi to keep a close eye on you, and the poor man is nothing short of pissing his pants.

He pulls you aside before Ijichi starts preparing the veil. One hand rests on your waist, squeezing almost a little bit too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go, while the other tilts your chin up so you can meet his gaze.

He has his blindfold on, but you know all of his attention is on you. “I know you won’t have service inside the veil, but the second it gets lifted you’re going to call me.”

You nod, and listen like the good girl he likes you to be. With that, he gives you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves.

You manage to locate the missing victims and exorcise the curse in less than 48 hours. You do as you’re told and call Gojo. He picks up after the first ring, and you think you can hear a shuddered sigh of relief on the other line upon hearing your voice. He tells you he has to go, only because duty calls, and that he’ll talk to you soon. Be good. Update him. Don’t leave without permission.

As usual, you appease him.

You make it back home in record time, tell Ijichi to wait outside because you need him to take you somewhere.

You leave your phone behind— the one that Gojo has the location of— and shut the door with nothing but a small suitcase in tow.

Ijichi stammers, you want to go where? Alone? Does Gojo know about this?

You tell him there’s no time for questions and to start driving.

He drops you off at Narita, in the international terminal. He’s visibly sweating, no doubt fearing for both his life and yours once a certain white haired sorcerer gets back from his mission. You give him an easy smile and thank him, and he speeds off, probably to go into hiding as well.

Your hands are shaky as you hand the boarding pass to the flight crew, and the tremors don’t stop even as you take a seat inside the plane. Even when you arrive at your destination, lay down in your bed in what’s going to be your temporary home for who knows how long, does your anxiety fail to cease.

Gojo knows something is off. He’s blown up your phone with endless calls and texts, called Ijichi countless times, and even asked Yaga about your whereabouts. Nothing. Your radio silence confirms his intuition. He finishes up his mission quickly, before the one week allotment is up. The first thing he does when he steps foot in Japan is immediately teleport back home.

He’s met with silence, and hardly any trace of your cursed energy residuals to be seen. You’ve been gone for a few days, he deduces.

Anxiety starts to prickle the back of his neck, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this much concern for anyone. Are you hurt? He tries calling you again, until he hears it. The slight buzzing sound emanating from your shared bedroom.

He picks up the device and sees the log of notifications. You really were gone.

Satoru looks through your phone— messages, emails, camera roll, bank statements— anything, anything to give him a hint as to what you were up to. Nothing. That’s okay, onto the next plan, which is honestly what he should’ve done first.

Being the strongest sorcerer had its perks, but none of them were greater than his privilege to investigate into people’s background history.

You know deep down there really was no escape from Satoru Gojo. That no matter the distance, he’d find a way back to you.

So when you see Gojo sitting on your bed in your hotel room, a part of you isn’t that surprised. The rest of you is paralyzed with anxiety of what comes next. You want to run, but you can’t. Your eyes begin to shift towards the still open door, trying to assess your options, but you’re hardly given a chance to finish your thought before Gojo is in front of you, closing the door. Effectively shut away from the outside world.

He’s not wearing his blindfold, you noticed. Which means he’s probably been tracking the flow of your cursed energy the moment you stepped foot into the lobby.

His stormy gaze meets yours, and he smiles. Your stomach drops.

“So…” he starts, voice sinfully low, “thought you could get away, hm?” He’s backed you up against the door, his strong frame pressed against yours.

Words bubble up your throat but die as they reach the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to set him off. You’ve only been given small glimpses into Gojo’s more sadistic, domineering side, which he does on purpose to serve as warning. You’re not like anyone else, so I’ll be good to you. In return, you must be good for me.

You start to tremble, legs beginning to fail you— but Satoru’s there to hold you steady. He uses one hand to grip your face, squishing both of your cheeks until your lips are pursed. He watches with deep adoration and fascination at how pliant the flesh is between his fingers. It’s like you were made for him.

“I’m willing to forget that you did this,” he hums, placing a quick peck to the tip of your nose before he presses his forehead against yours. “If you promise to get in that bed with me until I’ve decided you’re forgiven.”

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, recommend, or translate my writing on TikTok or Twitter.

[writr4luvrs]

Teacher!nanami x Yandere!student!Reader

tw: yandere themes, teacher/student relationship, stalking, manipulation, invasion of privacy, deez nuts

note: COLLEGE teacher nanami, mind you; not proofread

Nanami Kento was the best teacher! He was stern, smart, understanding, and so so patient and kind that it almost made you feel bad interrupting his class with your dreamy sigh. It made him pause for a beat, making you jolt in embarrassment when you make eye contact before he returns to the lesson. You could watch him for eons; forever focusing on his thick, heavy hands that were calloused somewhat while he wrote on the board. Your eyes continued to wander to his shoulders, lingering to his arms, his waist, his hips, oh, he's making you sigh again.

He was so strong and took care of himself. You knew this when peaking at his schedule after class while he was occupied elsewhere. On his workout days, you'd swoon at his back when he jogged on the treadmill, watching him do his sets through the windows from the shop across the street. Then, the grocery, this time for that salmon recipe he wants to try, too busy searching for the ingredients to spot you as approaching check out. Or his favorite bake shop he frequented. Granted, the shops coffee cups and snack wrappers were usually found in his garbage, anyways. But what bugged you out of all were the one-on-one tutoring sessions throughout the weeks. So smart, so determined, so patient, so kind for his students, you should have their slots instead.

It's not like you had to be better or worse than your fellow classmates, you only needed to be potential and that's why you had to have these sessions with Mr. Kento about your recent failing marks. You had to look up at him with a pout and threatening tearful eyes as you just couldn't get a handle on this one issue. You needed your teacher's support more than ever as you huffed and got frustrated at seeing your grade lower even more when you were trying youre dearest.. All he could do is look down at you softly, his sympathetic smile that makes your stomach flip, and gentle tone as he goes over the reading again. But that just wasn't enough, you growled and silently glared at your classmate each time he dismissed you for tutoring. Didn't he see you need him most?!

It wasn't your fault that it had come to you pressuring your classmate to seek other tutors and resources, you were just glad they were stupid enough to belive those nasty comments you made about Mr. Kento, even they were true. They weren't good enough to be tutored by Mr. Kento, assuring them that Mr. Satoru would benefit them more. Yes, Mr. Kento's low grunts and vibrating groans of frustration at poor skills not being able to handle such a intellectually low student did give lovely daydreams late at night, but now that his students were drifting to his least favorite coworker, he needed you most! He needed to prove himself and to you he was a worthy teacher, that he needed to be there for you.

"So, why meet at the same typical classroom?" you suggested cheerily, blushing when he raised his brow at you. but instead somewhere with less backrooms aura and more comfortable seating, and warm with comforting lighting, and sweet treats. "What is 'backrooms aura'?" His somewhat amused sigh runs chills through you. He rubs his eyes, quiet for a moment when he leaning beated weight on the table. He looked so tired, the stress was getting to him. He must be doing something utterly wrong if his students are drifting towards his coworker, or his potential student keeps needing his tutoring despite it all, or whatever this growing paranoia that someone has been following him.

You chuckle awkwardly at the moment of silence, bringing him back to reality to look at you for another moment. You smile. He use the excuse of external stresses get ti him now, not during this session that is meant for you. He could not fail you and the fact that you didn't give up on him and seek other resources...He let's out another pity sigh that could almost go unheard. "Mr. Kento?"

"I'm sorry." Your body warms at his tense brows. "Let's continue." his lips pressed tight, his nose flared, and jaw tense.

"I can tell you're struggling..." you begin, his eyes immediately go soft at your words, he's staring at you, patiently waiting, saying words he desperately needed to hear. "I want you to know I care about you, Mr. Kento... I want you to know that... I want to support you just like you've done for me all this time." Another sigh leaves him but it's different, he's relieved that's you've assure him..His eyes flicker and hus brows tense and his new thoughts.

why did you have to be cute as well?

[cleewii]

wait now i’m so curious. tell me your visionnn 👀

OKAY WAIT LISTEN—

i’m not saying that there is something kinda hot (and sick and twisted) about finding that little broken sword dummy, and maybeeee using it in ways it was def not meant to be used.

and i’m def not saying that MC potentially being a bit of a tinkerer results in the ancient mechanism coming out with one or two new appendages. and, you know, maybe a conscienceness .

and it’s not that a conscience just appeared, or that it came to your home with this purpose in mind, but with these new mechanisms and environments and sensations, it—he starts to become more aware, starts to think in things outside of sword technique and training, until one day he finds himself fantasizing about the lonely little weirdo who stole him, who fixed him up, gave him a home outside of the wailing storms and pounding hail. he knows he’s not supposed to be alive, but he realizes he doesn’t want to go back to being a training dummy anymore. especially when his little owner is so cute and pretty, and they make such strange sounds in the middle of the night, can never seem to look him in the eye come morning.

anyways yeah. i’m not saying anything. not saying a word.

[staraxiaa]

@jisokai

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ you know i'll take you there

ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)

word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl)

Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 

The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 

When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 

One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 

“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 

So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 

“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”

“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—

—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 

(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 

Kindness will get you killed. 

The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)

Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 

“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 

“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 

“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 

“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 

Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 

He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.

You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 

Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—

The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 

In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 

You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 

You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.

He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 

“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 

You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 

He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 

“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 

Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 

“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 

Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 

Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 

“Is he… alive?” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 

When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 

“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.

There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.

“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.

“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 

There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 

Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 

Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 

“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 

“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 

With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.

Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.

He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 

“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.

He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 

“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 

With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 

Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.

(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.

Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)

[enter-sandmann]

Ozzie's Taglist ;

| Masterlist | Information page | Rules FR |

Here is where the list of tags I'm willing to write for are, this list will grow as my blog does...

Accepted/in use Tags:

Yandere Syndrome, Lima Syndrome

Dub-con/Non-con, Coercion/Rape, Marital Rape, Pseudo-incest, Incest,

Forced Relationships/Marriage, Baby-Trapping, Predatory behaviors, abuse of law enforcement,

Abuse, Domestic abuse, Child Abuse, Sexual Assault, Harassment, Grooming, Attempted Suicide, Murder, Stalking, Sexism, Infantizing,

Any kind of kinks

——

No-no's

Pedophilia, Bestiality

Racism

Scat or piss kinks (or any other than follows this line)

Yandere readers

Oc's

Canon x Canon

[petrichorium]

U ask modern!capitano for a $50,000 ring just to test how far his love bombing will go and it’s on your finger when you wake up the next morning. When u leave the bedroom he’s in the kitchen making u breakfast and he stands on the other side of the counter like a fucking statue watching you eat every bite before kissing your forehead and asking what else u want

[spitdrunken]

notes: yandere, g/t (giant/tiny)

Sunday, who convinces you to touch the miniature town in the middle of Dewlight Pavilion. He's been acting… A bit strange, lately. Absentminded. Even more prone to philosophical-esque ramblings than usual, ones of which you fail to make heads or tails of. (Especially his tangents on 'self-worth'.) So, when he seems fully engaged with you for a chance, you decide to humour him.

When the world around you seems to grow bigger and bigger and bigger, you call out to him in a panic. It's only then that you realise that the world around you is not growing bigger: you've simply grown much, much smaller. You only have a few moments to look around the confines of the miniature Golden Hour, fear melting to awe and pleasure at the dreamscape's ingenuity, that your mood forcefully shifts once again.

Sunday leans over, reaching out to you. His hand, lowering and lowering, seems to move in slow motion. (Now, you know what it feels like to be a fly.) You've never been afraid of Sunday, but there's… A big difference between your sizes, now. Everything has the potential to be deadly. When he puts his hand down in front of you, you hesitate only a moment, before stepping on. When you do, he presses his thumb against the side of your body, lightly, gently petting the side of your head and hair. His hand is warm. Though he is careful when he lifts his hand up, the force of momentum is still strong enough to have you fall backwards, right on your ass.

Sunday smiles down at you. "My apologies," he tells you. "It is difficult to estimate my strength like this." When he speaks, you can feel the vibrations travelling through the air. "It's okay!” You yell out, unsure whether he can hear you with ease or not, when you're like this. "Um, I'll admit this was really interesting, but do you mind turning me back soon…? It's a little scary being this smal." Instead of providing an answer, Sunday grabs you by the back of your clothes, lifting you up. A scream gets caught in your throat as you catch a glimpse of the dizzying distance to the floor. Death doesn't exist in the dreamscape, but your body's instincts sure do! Before you know it, you're tucked away inside of Sunday's breast pocket, warmed by the heat of his body. “…I'm sorry about this, too.” When he speaks, this time, a light tremor shakes your entire body. “But you have no idea what, for the sake of your happy dream, I have neglected to tell you. Now, though… It is too dangerous. I cannot allow you to be taken from me, too. The best, the safest option— Is for you to stay right here.” ”You're… Joking, right?” You can't help but say, despite knowing Sunday is hardly the type for pranks. The reality staring you in the eye is so bizarre you cannot make sense of it otherwise. “Due to the circumstances, I wish I was,” Sunday says, the sound of a sigh reaching your ears. “But, no. You will stay right here. If… Your behaviour renders it impossible, I have an alternative..." He presses his hand to his chest, rubbing a finger along the outline of your body. "Though I do not think you would much prefer staying in a cage, would you?”

[smallestapplin]

Into the spiders web

Cw : Hinted Yandere Arlecchino, drider Arlecchino cause her boss form is giving spider, hinted noncon. This came to me in the middle of writing something else and I had to write what I had.

Feel free to slide in my inbox or DM's and gush about this woman with me-

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Drider!Arlecchino trapping you in her web, cooing at how you struggle in your restraints, how you are so small compared to her.

"What a delectable little thing you are. Ah, yes, I can't wait to devour you."

Her mandibles make a chittering noise, almost as if she was delighted in the tears pricking your eyes. You can't move, your limbs stuck to her sticky webbing, only able to watch her tie your arms and legs up, poisitioning them however she wants.

.....What?

Your legs are spread perfectly for her. One set of her arms rub just under your shirt, slowly sliding up to rid you of it, while her second set toys with the hem of your pants.

"What a cute little thing you are, it would be ashame to waste such perfection. Yes, I think I'll keep you for myself."

You should never travel in the Fontaine wilds alone at night, one with a moon so red you missed her traps.

But that's just what she was hoping for, seeing you pass through day in and day out was torture for her when you are just too precious.

You'll never be leaving her den.

[ryukatters]

"Potentially in the mood to answer some thirsts and or short requests"

gojo, just gojo.

don’t make this harder on me — satoru gojo x reader

content/warnings: exes to lovers, some angst, obsession, potentially yandere, they both kith

pairing: gojo x fem! reader

summary: you need him to stop looking at you like that. you’re just friends now. gojo says otherwise.

Ex-bf! Gojo who is so miserably insufferable. You didn’t expect to see him much after you broke up with him, but if there’s one thing Satoru Gojo is, it’s persistent.

You’re not sure what you were thinking, honestly, given the fact that both of you share mutual friends. He’s unavoidable. Akin to a shadow, him. You can feel the way his strikingly blue eyes sear into your skin whenever he’s around.

He’s sweet, too sweet, even after you walked away and left him all lonesome. The break up was more one sided than anything, but when did Gojo ever say no to you?

You wanted some space? He’ll give you some. But you need to know he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back.

He’s sweet while he listens to you, subconsciously leaning in to hear you better, clinging on to every word as though he were afraid he’d miss a single step in the cadence of your voice. Even sweeter when he presses up against you, effectively pinning you in between him and the marble countertops in Suguru’s kitchen.

The party is loud, nearing its climax with everyone too intoxicated to see what’s going on where you two are at. The music drowns out and all you can see and hear is Satoru.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he murmurs against your cheek, pressing a chaste kiss on your plump skin.

The pet name makes you snap back to reality, with both arms trying to push your ex off. He doesn’t budge. He does pull away though, enough for you to see the unmasked disappointment and hurt in his cerulean orbs. Your heart aches, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not your place to comfort him anymore— even if you’re the source of his heartbreak.

Your hands grip at his biceps, in an attempt to both put even more distance between you two and to steady yourself. In return, he tightens the grip on your hips.

You’re trapped. With Gojo. The sensible part of you wants to run, to keep that distance between you both because you know the weaker, less rational side of you wants to curl up in his familiar and warm embrace.

“Gojo,” you begin with a sigh. “You can’t call me that. We’re not together anymore.”

“It’s Satoru to you, princess. And that’s why I’m here right now, I’m gonna change that,” he brings one hand to cup your cheek, and you have to will yourself not to melt into his warmth.

“You can’t change anything,” you whisper, though it sounds more like a plea. Don’t. I don’t think I’ll have the strength to keep refusing you.

“Shh..” he coos, his lips pressing another kiss, this time towards one corner of your mouth. You can practically feel yourself salivate from anticipation. “We did it your way the first time, but now you’ve gotta listen to me, ‘kay?”

You stare at him blankly, afraid that any word or action that comes out of you will betray what you’ve been so adamant about.

Your silence is telling, and Satoru can’t help but smile. He loves how stubborn you can be at times, because it makes the reward so much sweeter.

He kisses you, on the lips this time, with such gentleness that it makes your head spin. You stay that way for a few seconds before he pulls away. You find yourself craving his touch. He studies you for a second, azure orbs calculating before he pulls back in, this time with a more forceful kiss.

You let out a whine of surprise and he swallows it wholeheartedly. He brushes his tongue against your lower lip, urging you to let him in.

And you do.

Satoru moans the minute you part your lips for him, his tongue swiping against yours and easily overpowering it. He wedges one of his legs in between yours, muscular thigh pressing up against the slowly growing wet spot by your core.

Your mind starts to grow fuzzy at the edges because he hasn’t parted from you, and it’s only when both of you are gasping for breath does he pull away, but doesn’t let you go.

“Toru…” you whine.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I want to hear, baby.”

You want to curse yourself for being so weak for him. But with the way he looks at you, how it looks like he thinks you hung the moon, you feel a little bit better.

“You know what else I wanna hear?” His lips brush against your earlobe, and it feels like your entire body is on fire. He nips at the cartilage a bit. “Come back home with me, so you can find out.”

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost or translate my writing on any platform.

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this blog contains heavy content that may not be suitable to some viewers. viewer discretion advised for the following:

yandere themes , stalking, assault/violence, attempted assault, aggressive language and behavior, dubcon, invasion if privacy.

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[petrichorium]

Cannot believe u forgot abt capitano………..

yandere ran 🤝 yandere sanzu making you come at least once a day for your ‘health’ even if you’re clawing at their face the entire time

[zhongrin]

cw.yandere (implied, soft), dragon!li

thinking about zhongli seeing you all dressed up for a night out with your friends and making you promise to spend time with him afterwards. he sends you off with a gentle and unassuming wave, a light "take care, my love", and a pair of dark dragon slits dilating behind his closed eyelids.

oh darling, you really should've specified a timeframe in that contract.