#yandere!reader

[nellielsss]

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ!

╰┈➤ I can't wait to try him... ✮✮✮

Summary: Just a little songfic inspired by The Boy is Mine by Ariana Grande. I figured it was about time that the tables were turned & the reader got to make a mess! However will these boys react? Includes: Toji Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami x Yandere!reader CW: murder, weapons, derogatory/degrading language (reader is severely flawed), allusions to sex

☆○o 𝙏𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙁𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

╰┈➤ It's no secret that your man was a man of charm and persuasion. Although his demeanor was considerably unapproachable and intimidating, he still knew his way around a conversation (he had to if he wanted to haggle the local vendors). It's also no secret that he was an adonis. A wide, tapered back that extended outwards to a pair of broad shoulders, biceps bigger than your head, and a face that could make Narcissus himself do a double-take, he was practically walking sex! Not to mention those 9 inches he was packing!

It's not like it was his fault that his body was so built; those muscles were a result of his years of working out! If he wanted to make as much money from his missions as possible, he'd need his strength to be at its peak. It also wasn't his fault that god blessed him with a perfect face with perfect skin (save for the scar) & a perfect bone structure.

If two + two = four, each two standing for the aforementioned attributes, then four meant that there was a lot of unwanted attention thrown his way. Men, women, non-binary folk and everyone in between threw a couple of flirty glances and compliments his way every now and then. It seemed like he raised the pheromones of the places he was in: bars, the grocery store; hell, even on the street there would be a couple of people trying to pick him up!

"Baby, don't even pay 'em a penny of your time," he muttered into your ear after a girl tried to get his number at a bar. "They don't compare to you; not even a little. Fuck would I do without this ass, eh?" he asked with a grin, making you smile a little. "Atta girl." If he wasn't so reserved and committed to his gal, you, then he would've eaten that shit up. But he made a vow to be more responsible and stay loyal to you, and he'd kill himself before he broke that vow. He even bought you a promise ring, for fuck's sake (he also had an engagement ring in mind for when the time was right)! So, to any sane person, things should've been peachy keen...

... if you were sane, that is.

Toji knew all about your mental state. He knew that you had a few issues, but he didn't care; he wasn't a fucking hypocrite for crying out loud. He had a few screws loose himself, so he didn't bat an eye when you told him about how many you had loose. The two of you made an excellent couple anyways, and he wasn't stupid enough to throw away a good thing. So, he brushed over it and decided to move on with life.

If only he knew how many friends he'd lose along the way.

The most recent "departure" was the one friend he'd made in high school (before he was forced to drop out by his family). One of the only female friends he'd made during his life, she was the tomboy-type who had no trouble making friends with guys. She was a total delinquent; she even rocked the long skirt and the mask back in high school, and she also dropped out of high school after he did for setting fires behind the school. Leather jackets, piercings, the whole nine yards. She was like a walking Mötley Crüe song.

But even walking rock-and-roll songs could catch feelings. Unluckily for her, it was high time that she kicked the bucket and made way for you. The only person who deserved Toji's attention was you. You were the one who kept him warm every night; you were the one who took his dick like no other; you were the one with the promise ring on your finger, not that bitch.

Killing her was quite simple. Although she was tough as nails, you were the one who actually had experience with killing people. All you had to do was sneak into her place at night and stab her. Then, you'd write a flimsy little note and make it seem like she fled the country; it was quite plausible for a chick like her.

┆ . "Hello? Who's there?" the chick's voice asked when she heard a few thumps in the other room. She was in the kitchen drinking a beer and listening to the radio (could she not afford a TV? how sad). She had a plate of Korean fried chicken on the counter as well, and the only light illuminating the area was the flimsy lightbulb above her head.

Her head immediately snapped in the direction of the noise she'd heard, and she grabbed a switchblade from the linoleum countertop. She took a few steps forward, the sound of the radio being drowned out by her heartbeat.

Another noise from the opposite direction, this time to her left. "Alright, who the fuck's fuckin' with me? I swear, Toji, if that's you-"

"Don't even say his fucking name, whore." She felt something grab her neck from behind, effectively choking her. The hand then pressed a nerve that stopped her from moving, rendering her frozen in place. She recognized that voice, but she couldn't believe it; was that girl seriously in her home...? She turned her eyes to the best of her ability, trying to catch a glimpse to confirm her suspicions. Her eyes widened when she realized who it was, being met by Toji's girlfriend's pretty face which was now marred by a look of sheer venom and malice.

"P-please, can't we talk this out?-"

"It's too late to beg. You shouldn't have come back into his life; you shouldn't have even met him to begin with." The last thing she saw before she felt something stab her was a sick, twisted grin on her face, widening as the knife sunk further and further into her tattooed skin.

The knife left her side and then sunk back into her neck. A snap was the last thing she heard before her eyes went shut.

It definitely wasn't the last thing you heard, though; the knife sunk back into her neck again, then again, and again, and again, again, again, again, again, all the way until her neck practically ripped in two.

The plan to make a smooth escape was a little behind schedule considering all the blood splatters that needed cleaning on the linoleum flooring, but it was nothing a little bleach couldn't fix.

"Toji did tell me I looked good in red once," you sighed, dragging some blood down your face with a lovesick grin as the finishing touch.

You could rival Elizabeth Bathory with the amount of blood that was on you and the black sweater you chose to wear for the killing. Ah, it's not like that sweater was anything too important or sentimental to you; you always made sure not to wear anything nice when murdering a target of yours.

"Toji, Toji, Toji Toji Tojiiiii," you hummed to yourself, taking your gloves off and throwing them aside. You decided to put on a new pair of disposable gloves in order to clean the crime scene, considering how soaked the others were with the amount of blood that was in them. Making the mess an even bigger mess wasn't on your agenda for the night.

"The boy is mine... I can't wait to try him... let's get intertwined... the stars they've aligned," you hummed to yourself, "the boy... is... mine!"

Just as you'd started to get into the swing of things and dance around the kitchen of your victim, cleaning up the mess in your own sick & twisted way, that little fantasy of yours was broken by the sound of the door opening. Your head snapped in the direction of the sound, your blood running cold at the thought of being caught in such a predicament. You reached out to grab a nearby knife, already making a plan in your head. You'd killed a few other people who walked in on your murders, so it really wasn't anything new to you.

But those people weren't your boyfriend.

"Yoohoo, anybody home?" He asked in that deliciously deep & sarcastic voice of his. "I thought I oughta bring you that shirt you asked for. Y'know, the ACDC one?-"

When he turned his head to the side and saw you, his girlfriend, cleaning up a spilled pool of blood that belonged to his friend, he also froze. The two of you stared at one another, each completely bewildered by the other. Here was his sweet, amazing, practically angelic girlfriend all covered in blood & standing over his now dead friend's body. And at the same time, here was your boyfriend standing in the doorway, looking at you as you cleaned up a particularly messy crime scene.

Oh, right, your boyfriend just walked in on you in the middle of your crime scene.

He was a witness to his friend's murder, as well as your own crimes.

"No... it's- it's..." you stuttered, tears welling up as you backed away from the dead body as if that'd make it any better for you.

One step, two steps, three steps of your boyfriend's boots echoed throughout the kitchen as he walked closer to you.

"D-Don't look at me, don't... don't look at me, Toji! You can't see me like this! I'm a monster-" as your eyes were closed out of fear and shame, you felt two fingers grip your chin surprisingly gently. You opened your eyes slowly, your boyfriend forcing you to look at him.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he murmured with a soothing undercurrent of love. "Geez, look at you... you're all covered in this sticky, disgusting blood. That's no look for a pretty girl like you, is it?"

You stayed silent, and he cocked his head to the side, almost amused by how shy you were being in this scenario. "Fine. If you wanna stay silent, then that's fine with me. But do you really think you oughta be embarrassed right now? Like I'd judge ya for anything... Do you remember when we first met, and I told you that I'd never, ever judge you in any circumstances? I'm a man who stays true to my word, (Y/N). Even if you were covered in the blood of four different people, my love for you's never gonna waver."

You looked at him with more confusion than anything. Was he being serious right now? Weren't you a monster for killing one of his friends? "I'm confused..." you finally started, "are you not... disgusted with me? Aren't I a monster? I just- I just killed one of your friends!" you exclaimed.

Toji's eyebrows merely raised in amusement. "I'm a man who stays true to my word, (Y/N)," he said once more. "I ain't goin' back on it, baby. Besides, it's not like I was friends with anyone other than Shiu to begin with--and he's my manager! She was pissin' me off anyway. She had the audacity to challenge me to a drinking contest and then decided to puke all over the new pants you bought me."

Your eye twitched when he brought up that knowledge.

"Doesn't she know that alcohol doesn't affect a big guy like me?" he asked rhetorically, shaking his head out of amusement. "You did me a favor getting her off my back."

"So, you're really okay with what I did?" you asked once more. Toji shook his head and cupped your cheek gently with his calloused fingers.

"Do I gotta repeat myself thrice?"

"N-No, you don't gotta..." you trailed off.

"Good." He stood up, offering you a hand to help you up as well. "Y'know, I really didn't expect you to be such a little psychopath. I mean, you're all cute n' shit with your little mini skirts and your heels that I still don't know how you walk in. If I'd known you looked so hot covered in other people's blood, I would've taken you along with me on my missions."

You blushed profusely at all his little words and praises, and he cooed (again, out of amusement). "Look at you, all shy over a couple compliments thrown your way. You really are just a sweet thing underneath all that blood, aren't you?"

"Stop it, stop it!" You whined, swatting his hand away when he pinched your cheek.

In response, he put his hands up and chuckled again. "Whatever my girl wants, my girl gets. Now, would you like some help with cleaning this mess up, or would you rather I just bend you over this counter n' eat you out?"

You looked at him again, yet again out of confusion and bewilderment. "You wanna have sex with me... when I'm covered in blood, and in my own crime scene?" You asked, shrinking away from his touch.

"'Course I do; you look fuckin' sexy baby. Shit gets my dick hard seeing you so protective over me... I oughta reward you for havin' my back, anyway."

He reached out again, only for you to shrink away even further from his touch, making him click his tongue and sigh. "I think I'll pass," you muttered, throwing him a side-eye as well.

"The fuck are you side-eyeing me for? You're the one who killed a girl."

*°:⋆ₓₒ 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤 ˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

╰┈➤ Satoru Gojo was nothing short of a dreamboat, and you knew what you were getting into when you said "yes" to the first date. From the moment he picked you up wearing a crisp light blue button-up, slacks, and his silver-blue porsche, you knew he was gonna be one silver-tongued prince charming.

Not only was he sweet on the first date, but he was also sweet on the second, third, fourth--hell, even on your second anniversary, when he asked you to move in with him in his penthouse located in the heart of Ginza, you swore your knees buckled from underneath you and not because of the blue gown that he'd bought you after seeing it on your computer screen all those nights ago.

He was like a sweet saccharine fantasy, a delicious daydream which you never wanted to wake up from. His soft, snow-white hair; his incredibly vibrant blue eyes which seemed to have specks of every color in the galaxy and then some with flecks of purple, cerulean, indigo, and even a milky way here and there; his towering stature and lean muscles--god, you could go on and on about how dreamy he was! And the sex? Good god, he was a man who knew how to put it down.

The sweet little nicknames he had for you only furthered your infatuation for him: "hey there, sweet cheeks," was one rather childish one that he reserved for you.

"Lookin' good, princess," was probably the most fitting one that he had for you. It was his way of reminding you of how good he'd always treat you, how he'd always put you first above all else. After all, he used that name when he bought you a diamond tennis bracelet for your half-birthday.

While most people would've been worried that he was love-bombing you, you knew deep down that you had absolutely nothing to worry about!

Even his best friend, Suguru Geto, said as such at one of the many parties he threw.

After one of Satoru's weird little groupies made a snide remark about how he gave that treatment to anyone who would open their legs for him, he pulled you aside with one tattooed hand (he has tats IMO) and helped you lighten your mood. "Don't even listen to that chick, (Y/N), you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I haven't seen him look at anyone like that since, well, ever if I'm being honest--and I've known the man since grade school," the sorcerer said.

"You really think so?" You asked, a light smile gracing your features.

"I've been his best friend since we've both become sorcerers, (Y/N). I've seen him go through everything, even that phase when he decided to wear his hair like a Backstreet Boy for a day." now that was a joke that really brought that light back to your face.

"Okay, okay, I don't think I need that image in my head," you replied, waving your hands in front of you. He simply smiled at you and patted your shoulder.

"Trust me, you don't. Now go find your boyfriend before he throws a fit; you know how he gets."

You had nothing to worry about when it came to your relationship--even his vigilant best friend thought so. But that lack of worry only extended to your boyfriend, not the countless groupies that threw themselves at him.

How many had you killed by now? 6? 7? Eh, you lost count by the time it reached double digits.

┆ . At one of his many parties that he threw on his yacht in the harbor, yet another groupie decided to take a chance on the already-taken sorcerer/heir of the Gojo clan, none other than your boyfriend of 3 and a half years, Satoru. By then, you'd disregarded who any of the groupies were, only knowing them by hair color (if they dyed it some stupid color like pink or purple) or did something obscene to your boyfriend.

But that night at his summer party, a purple-haired groupie took it way too far: when you were returning from the bar with Satoru's favorite drink in hand, you saw her accidentally "trip" and fall into your boyfriend's lap. The hand holding your drink-of-choice was gripping your glass so tightly that it shattered in your hand, but the blaring music was loud enough to hide it.

"Whoopsie!" the girl said with fake-sincerity, giggling as she looked at her friends who obviously put her up to this shit.

Satoru, being the amazing boyfriend he was, pushed the girl off of his lap and looked rather annoyed at what she'd done: "hands off the merchandise! This seat's already taken."

The girl threw her hands up and gave him a fake apology, obviously not serious about it: "sorryyy, I tripped on my heels! You know how these things are."

But your brain didn't register it; it merely registered the sounds of the blood rushing through your body and your heartbeat's thumping. Your breathing quickened, and everything in your world was reduced to that stupid bitch and her stupid giggles and her stupid hair color.

Who the fuck does she think she is? She's not the one who's already been living with Satoru for over a year now. Her fake nails, her fake hair--she probably doesn't even want Satoru and instead wants some notoriety for being his groupie.

She shouldn't get to live; stupid whores like her shouldn't be alive to begin with.

She needs to know her place. I wonder how fast I can throw this drink at her head? Maybe it'll kill her if I'm hard enough-

"Yo, (Y/N)!" Satoru's voice said once he saw you a few feet away. "C'mere princess; I got this seat nice and ready for ya!" he said with a grin, patting his lap. You happily obliged, bounding over like a little puppy who was called by their owner for a tasty treat.

"Isn't she the cutest thing?" Shoko Ieiri asked her friend who nodded in agreement.

"Sato, baby, here's the drink you asked for," you said, your voice dripping with adoration like the sweetest ambrosia from the Garden of Eden. "Mine... spilled, sadly, but I can just get another one."

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted that stupid whore trotting off down a hallway, headed to a bathroom by herself. An idea formed inside of your head, and your eyes narrowed and zeroed in on her fake purple hair.

"(Y/N), baby, look at me! This is my party!" Satoru protested, suddenly bringing your attention back to him with a cute little pout on his face.

"You don't mind if I go and use the ladies room? I'll be back before you know it," you asked with the subtlest croon you could muster up without bordering on corny.

"But, baby-"

"It's an emergency. You know how us girls get," you said with a smile, making Satoru relent reluctantly.

"Fine, fine... go on ahead, but don't get too distracted on your way there. Your boyfriend wants some attention," he muttered, placing a small kiss on your neck before letting you go. You gave him a small kiss on the forehead and carded through his snow-like hair, getting right up off his lap and going in the same direction as that groupie.

Your Christian Dior heels tapped on the hardwood floors of the yacht, taking you down one of the hallways that seemed to go on for forever. Coincidentally, this was also the same hallway that led to your spare room; the one you used whenever you were mad at Satoru for whatever reason and felt like sleeping in another bed. You made sure to step as quietly as possible so as to not alert the girl of your presence; however, she made hers known by the sound of her shrill laughter coming from the bathroom.

"The boy is mine... I can't wait to try him," she sang, clearly oblivious of the fear and rage coursing through your body. Was she seriously singing that fucking song right now, acting as if Satoru wasn't in a committed relationship?? Oh, she needed to be reminded of her place.

Like a soundless sabertooth, you stalked up to the door and opened it, acting as though you were merely freshening up in the bathroom. You took your lip gloss out of the bag that your boyfriend bought you on one of your many outings, swiping it over your lips.

"Oh, you're Satoru's girlfriend, right?" the chick asked once she recognized you. She pointed an acrylic at you, drawing your attention. "Hey, don't ignore me! It's not like you're anything special anyway."

"What do you mean?" you asked, deciding to provoke the beast yourself.

"Satoru swipes through relationships like it's nobody's business!"

"Groupies don't count as relationships."

"Just you wait. He's gonna abandon you for someone way hotter and way less annoying than you. I mean, I don't even know what the fuck he sees in you!" she exclaimed. "You're a 3 at best."

The chick continued to ramble on and on about how Satoru could do way better than you, and it was high time that she shut the fuck up already.

You grabbed the martini glass she was holding, wrenching it easily out of her hands, and you broke it on the marble countertop. You then took the sharp, pointy end and drew a deep, jagged cut on her neck with it, the tendons practically ripping in half with the intensity of your cut. She grabbed her neck and put two hands over the gash, gasping and breathing for air, only to have her hands cut by the glass. You stabbed her over and over again, screaming at her to "SHUT UP!" and "DIE ALREADY!!" You pushed her onto the ground and mounted her hips, driving the broken glass further in until her head disconnected from her body.

By the time you were finished with her dead body, she was practically unrecognizable. One of her eyes was open (the other was stabbed out), her head was severed, and the tendons in her neck were exposed. You didn't mean to get so carried away, but you let it happen anyway.

With a swipe to the eyebrow, you let out a "whew," only to realize that you had this huge mess to clean up. It's not every day that you manage to sever a head, after all.

"Nothing a little bleach can't deal with."

You took out the trusty bottle of bleach that you hid underneath the counter (in case of emergencies) and started unscrewing the cap. Just as you did that, though, you heard Satoru's whiny voice from behind the door calling out for you. "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Normally, you would've entertained him, but right now you were standing over a dead body, your party dress covered in blood with a bottle of bleach in one of your hands and a broken glass in the other. If he were to see you right now, everything you've worked for would've been for nothing. All those dead bodies thrown into dumpsters, all those weapons that you kept hidden--it would've amounted to absolutely nothing! Your perfect life with your perfect boyfriend and your perfect friends would all go to shit, all because you couldn't control yourself around a fucking groupie with too many bad dyejobs for her own good.

"(Y/N), I'm coming in!" he said once more. He managed to yank the door open with his bare hands, and he couldn't have prepared himself for the sight in front of him.

There you were, his pretty little princess, standing over the dead body of one of his partygoers. His six eyes took in everything almost immediately: he noted the bottle of bleach, the sheer amount of blood that was on you, and just how mangled that corpse was. You looked down at the floor and you shut your eyes as tight as you possibly could, desperately hoping that it wasn't him, that it wasn't your amazing boyfriend who did nothing wrong.

"I-I'm sorry, I made a mess," you mumbled, tears flowing down your face and mixing with the metallic blood. He stayed longer than you thought was necessary, and you just braced for the inevitable look of disgust followed by the demand that you leave.

His footsteps echoed on the marble flooring and he crouched down to your level, taking his glasses off and looking at you.

"Just- I'll just get out of your hair after I clean this up-"

"Don't bother, princess. I'll just have one of my maids clean it up. A spoiled little thing like you shouldn't have to inhale all the bleach smell," he said with a chuckle. "My princess shouldn't even have to lift a finger in the first place."

You stopped looking at the floor, your head craning up slowly and looking at your boyfriend out of sheer confusion. "I don't- I don't understand..."

"What's not to understand?" he asked with a cocked head. "My girl's not gonna hold a single mop, not while she's with me."

"But... I just killed someone... aren't you afraid of me? Aren't you disgusted?"

He shrugged, his blue eyes remaining on you. "You think I'm gonna break up with you over some meaningless groupie? Don't be ridiculous, sweet cheeks. Now, if you'd somehow managed to kill someone like Shoko or Suguru, then I'd have a problem, although I am quite impressed that you managed to cut her head off with a martini glass... C'mon, let's get you out of these clothes and into something nicer. We can't have my guests wondering why my date's all red and sticky, hmmm?"

You said nothing, instead following his lead as he snuck you into another room. He slipped your ruined party dress off, then he turned on the faucet and grabbed a hand towel, washing off all the blood that was on your face and your body.

"I still just can't believe that you'd accept this. Aren't you scared of me?" You asked once more, finally speaking up as he washed the blood off your soft skin.

"Hell nah, baby. You forget you're dating the strongest guy in all the land," he said with a sly wink. "Plus, I think it's cute; you're all protective over me. Who would've known that you had bark and bite?"

"You're such a freak, Satoru," you said with comically narrowed eyes. "I bet you find that shit hot, you narcissist."

Satoru merely laughed and shook his head. "You know me too well."

*:..｡o○ 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞 ∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒

╰┈➤ If there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was the widely accepted fact that having a work wife was considered the norm, especially in an office where people spent a good 9 hours a day typing away at their computers and drinking for another extra hour afterwards. Kento Nanami was the exception to the latter, though. You knew you were a lucky girl when your sweet, sweet boyfriend Kento told you on the third date that he was a homebody, and how he'd much rather just lie in bed with his lover than go out for drinks.

"I'm not really the extroverted type, if I'm being honest," the deliciously handsome blonde man said after taking a sip of his wine. "I'd much rather spend the night watching a movie or making dinner for my loved ones. I'm actually quite the cook, if you'd be interested in trying out some of my dishes. I don't even know why I decided to try out dating in the first place; it actually makes me quite nervous."

"I would love to try some of those meals out, but I think that we should try out some of your recipes later. It sounds like a fun date idea regardless! Maybe you could even teach me how to make those amazing meals? Perhaps the ones that you hold close to your heart? And, honestly, I'm not the going out type either. It took me so much to hype myself up for this date, but I'm glad I'm on it."

Kento smiled when you found the idea rather fun. He knew you'd be a great match for him, especially since he loved to make others smile by filling up their bellies with his own creations (double entendre?)

"But you? Nervous? Seriously? You've been nothing but kind to me, suave even. You're punctual, and you held the chair out for me to sit in. You're just my kinda guy, Kento. Those other tinder matches ain't got nothing on you."

He blushed at the usage of his first name, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. A naïveté towards norms, he presumed, but a naïveté he could appreciate.

Yeah, he knew you were a keeper.

You also quickly learned early on just how tight-knitted his schedule was, but what he lacked in time spent with you he made up for with romance and courting. He'd frequently send you flowers to your workplace and to your home; he took you to the finest restaurants and even the opera; and he made sure to text you regularly. The seven months you'd spent with him were some of the best of your life, and you prayed to god that you wouldn't fuck it up in any way. You were both dating for marriage, and he couldn't have found a better future wife.

Well, that's what he thought, at least. He didn't exactly know about your jealous tendencies, the tendencies that made you buy so many cleaning supplies and bottles of bleach, you started to receive discounts for the shit. The local utility store employees even thought you were a maid, given by the amount of disposable gloves that you went through.

"I should hire you as a maid someday, when I can actually pay for one at least," said the cashier of the home improvement store that you frequented (if you couldn't tell, he was low-key making a pass at you).

"A maid? I'm not-" you quickly stopped when you realized that this would give you a possible coverup and alibi if you needed one.

"I'm confused... aren't you a cleaning lady?" He asked once more.

"Oh, yeah! I totally just forgot all about my job!" You exclaimed, passing it off with a laugh and a smile. "I'm sorry, but I'm not taking any more clients. I'll let you know when I am, though," you followed up with a wink.

Oh, how suave you were. You'd always been an expert at lying, and now was no different. In fact, with the amount of bodies you'd racked up, one could say you were the best liar in all of Japan.

And no, not in terms of sexual partners; you were a killer. A killer by textbook definitions, at least.

It's not like you wanted to kill all these girls! It's just that, with the amount of people that so obviously flocked to your boyfriend of seven months, you'd have to make sure that he wasn't getting any ideas.

It started out with the local call-girl that hollered at him when the two of you were walking home from a date. "Hey, suga! You ever thought about spending time with all this?" She hollered from the other side of the road. Nanami kept his cool and ignored her, passing her off as no more than a streetwalker trying to scam him for all his worth.

You made sure she was forgotten about, though; her body was found cut into pieces a few nights later by the garbage people.

Next came that stupidly innocent bakery worker (get the ref?). "Come again soon!" She called out to Kento after he bought a few pastries for the two of you. You came back a few nights later, and you wiped that innocent look off her face and replaced it with a wide cut on either sides of her mouth, along with a giant slash along her torso.

Soon it was girl #3, then #4, #5, and #6. By the time you hit your first anniversary, it was up to 11 people in total. You knew that your man was a desired man, but god, could people really not keep their hands and words to themselves?

#12 seemed to cause quite the nuisance for you, though. It just so happened that Kento had a "work-wife," or at least according to Miss Work-Wife herself when you met her at an office holiday party. After spending so much time together, your sweet Kento brought you to the party, intending to show you off to all of his jealous colleagues who couldn't keep a partner, even if they tried. He intended to have you on his arm, a subtle act of pride and showing off. He always kept to himself, so why not spice things up a little bit? It was his time to be selfish.

He seemed to have two women on his arm, though: you and the stupid work-wife who just couldn't stop butting into every single situation.

"Oh, so you're Kenny's girl? I didn't know that he liked the girly type; I always thought he'd be into the straight-laced, conservative type. But to each their own, I guess!" she remarked.

Oh how much you hated backhanded compliments. Could people really not understand just how bad they were at covering that shit up? She might as well have called you a brainless bimbo who wore heels that were too high to save her own life. As if she wasn't wearing a face full of fucking makeup, you thought to yourself. Glowy foundation is still foundation, regardless of how "low coverage" it was. And those clumpy ass eyelashes--why the fuck would your man associate with such lowly looking wenches? If he were to talk to women, the least he could do was talk to the nice looking ones. At least then you'd have something cute to carve into.

You'd made a vow to stop killing every woman you see, it wasn't fair to kill all of Kento's friends! He hadn't even given you a reason to doubt him. He was still the same suave gentleman from the very first date. It wasn't like those Reddit AITA posts where the men gradually started putting in less and less effort. If you were a sane person, that would be your train of thought.

But you're not sane--whoever said you were? You're crazy, and that's just a part of you. At least Ken had a loving girlfriend to come home to at the end of the night, even if you needed antipsychotics.

So, when you invited the chick over for drinks one late night, you made sure to do it with a certain plan in mind.

You were going to stab that stupid smile off her face, then dump her somewhere inconspicuous.

┆ . It was laughably easy for you to kill her. You swapped out the white carpet in your apartment for a black one that absorbed all the colors that flew into it, and brought out the spare furniture that you'd been meaning to get rid of a while ago. You even covered the walls with spare wall art that was also gonna go into the trash.

"It's so lovely of you to have me over for drinks, (Y/N)! I knew that from the moment I met you, the two of us were going to be friends," she said, stupidly oblivious to what was about to happen to her.

"Oh, well, I try to be as active in Kento's life as possible, and that includes making friends with his friends as well," you said smoothly, lying through your teeth. She wasn't his friend; he didn't even have her number saved. You grabbed a martini glass from your mini-bar and poured her a dirty martini, making extra sure that the poison didn't look too out of place. You even added pineapple juice to hide the slightly white film in the liquid, mixing it up with your drink mixer. "Y'know, I have a thing for mixology. Care to try one of my new concoctions?" You asked, handing her the glass.

"Would I?" she asked excitedly, taking the glass from you. She took a sip and let out an "ahh," looking satisfied with the drink.

"You like it?"

"Oh, you bet I do. I've always had a thing for pineapple juice."

About 10 minutes in, and she only barely started showing signs of fatigue, much to your fucking dismay. Whoever said that this poison was a fast acting agent must've gotten it on Canal St. "Gosh, I'm a little tired. Do you mind if I lie down?" she asked, already lying down on the couch.

"By all means, go ahead," you smiled, though deep down you wanted to peel her grimy face off your pillows with a potato peeler.

She yawned, stretching her hands above her head, only to have them fall back down on her torso and go to her heart. "My c-chest hurts a little," she laughed. "I've always had a problem with... heartburn. It's a genetic thing."

You took a sip of your own martini, already sick and tired of playing the long game. "It's not heartburn you stupid bitch; I poisoned your fucking drink." The obvious change of voice caught her heavily off guard, and she looked at you with bewilderment. "God, I am so sick and tired of hearing you yap, yap and yap about my boyfriend. Don't you know that one day, we're gonna get married? We don't need suck-ups like you to soak up all the attention."

"Wha- what do you mean?" she slurred, freaking out as she felt her chest tightening. "You put poison in my drink?! Are you... crazy?!"

"I am; I even take meds for it," you said nonchalantly, splashing around the martini in your cup. "Here, try some of mine, see if you like it better," you said cruelly, splashing the alcohol in her face and making her eyes burn. "You really should be wary of the people whose homes you walk into; you never know what exactly to expect with strangers. Especially if you're trying to steal their boyfriends."

"I-I'm not trying to-"

"Girl, please, I've poisoned you, I think it's time we cut the bullshit and the niceties, yeah? I've never been one to be nice anyway, at least not behind closed doors." You got up off the chair, walking to the nearby dresser and pulling out a knife. "When I first saw you, I knew I'd have to kill you eventually. Kento's a nice guy, and he shouldn't have whores like you around him. You're all just a bunch of fucking flies, do y'know that?" You asked, wiping the blade of your knife with a cloth. She could no longer speak, her face turning purple as she fumbled off the couch, crawling towards the door. "Don't even bother with that," you sneered, kicking her down and away from the door. She meekly crawled away, only to have her hair pulled back forcefully by you.

"Have you ever had someone try to steal your boyfriend before? Lemme tell you: it's not a fun feeling. The idea that people would be so dumb as to lay their paws on what's yours... I know my Kento's a dreamboat, but there are other eligible bachelors to choose from in this city. Unluckily for you, you picked the wrong one, because that boy is mine."

You grabbed her and hauled her over to where you had a tarp laid out in the kitchen, and you brought the knife to her neck. "Take a long, last look at this filet mignon, because it's what's gonna be the last thing you fucking see." You then cut it across her throat, hard enough to almost rip her head off of her spine. "Maybe in your next life, you won't be such a whore."

She fumbled about, her hands going to her neck, only for you to grab the knife and stab her brain, effectively killing her. "Poison was taking too long, anyway," you muttered.

The murder was quite clean and it went pretty smoothly, although you'd wished it was the poison instead.

"I'll make sure to give it a one star," you muttered, holding the poison.

You stood up, reaching out for a nearby smock to wipe your hands clean of the blood. You thought you were in the clear, your twelfth kill under your leather belt, only for a voice behind you to disturb the serenity: "love? Are you home? I wanted to surprise you-"

You stopped in your tracks, frozen like a deer in headlights. It didn't take a genius, much less his girlfriend of over a year to realize who it was behind you.

Were you really that idiotic? Did you forget to lock the door?

You looked in the reflection of the kitchen window, seeing Kento's puzzled expression on his face. He was even holding pink roses in one of his arms and had chocolates in the other.

"Ken... I didn't mean for you to- you shouldn't have to see this mess-"

You stopped for a second, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. You turned around, nothing but fear written on your typically calm and gorgeous features. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this," you said, your voice cracking slightly.

"I could guess that," he remarked, his voice as soft as ever. He knew that you were quite fragile in this moment, so he was careful to walk closer to you and wrap his strong arms around your frame once he got to his destination.

You stood there in silence, not knowing what to do or say when he hugged you. Wasn't he... afraid? Wasn't he disgusted by you having killed one of his coworkers?

"I meant to surprise you tonight with dinner. I brought you some takeaway from your favorite place, and I even bought you roses."

You looked down at the bouquet of pink roses that were freshly picked and bought from the local florist. Some of the blood on your hands dripped onto a petal, staining it a hauntingly beautiful color, somehow making this whole situation more romantic.

You'd only ever hurt people, so why was this situation so comforting?

"Thank you, Kento... I appreciate it," you muttered, still reeling from the realization that Kento glossed over the fact that you were the person responsible for all those murders in the newspapers. You wondered if he knew that all this time, his wonderful, graceful girlfriend was the one killing and maiming random girls. He took you to the sink and washed all the blood off your hands with some bleach, then scrubbed the bleach clean with a lavender-scented hand soap.

"Careful now, we wouldn't wanna stain your dress, would we? Not when you're already date night ready," he remarked, his deep voice a soothing balm to your ears.

You simply nodded, going along with whatever he said. After washing them off clean, he wrapped up the tarp and made extra sure not to spill any of the bodily fluids anywhere, putting it in a spare closet nearby. You stood there, watching as your boyfriend cleaned up your crime scene in your apartment. You watched his features, and you couldn't tell if he was upset or not.

He guided you back to the dining table where the bag of food was. He set out plates and cutlery for the two of you, not letting you lift a single finger. Once the two of you sat down, he started eating in silence when he saw you looking at him.

"(Y/N), don't let it go cold. Eat up," he instructed softly.

You obliged, picking up your fork and eating the red meat hesitantly. Red meat, how poetic.

"Kento," you started, putting your fork down and looking up at the blonde man. "We're gonna have to talk about it eventually."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Just... not over red meat, okay?"

You simply nodded, going back to your food. You ate more comfortably, the knowledge that you no longer had the secret hidden making you rest easier now. Perhaps he did know already, and he just didn't wanna make you any more worried than you already were by bringing it up. Perhaps he was put off by it, but he was willing to gloss over it and act like it didn't matter. Whatever the reason might've been, you could rest easy knowing that your boyfriend wasn't going anywhere.

"Work was quite eventful today. They handed out promotions, and I was one of the lucky few who got one." He looked up at you after swallowing his food, carefully watching your expression and making sure you were alright.

"That's great news, Kento, I'm happy for you." He smiled softly at your acquiescence, happy to finally change the topic.

Blood always seemed to scared him.

I hope this was good enough... 👅

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/10/2024

[bwabys-scenarios]

Kurapika was yours, he knew that.

The two of you were close, and at times he could be very clingy and affectionate. After all, who wouldn’t be when you were so kind and loving towards him?

You treasured Kurapika, being a bit possessive and possessive… okay, maybe more than just a bit.

He needed you, and that made keeping him all to yourself a lot easier.

Pinning him down, stroking his cock while peering down at his flustered state makes you horny. He’s beautiful like this, submissive and needy.

Sometimes he just needs someone to take over, to fully give himself to you.

No one can see him like this, only you. He’s yours…

The hickeys you leave on his neck tell any potential rivals that he’s taken.

[yandere-sins]

Prisoner #006

a/n: A spin on the usual yandere situation, but this story has been sitting in my drafts for a while, I think it's time to release it ^^

Fandom: Genshin Impact Characters: Yandere!Prisoner!GN!Reader x Prisoner!Kaveh Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Reader is being psycho, lost of mentioning of murder and death, Reader stabs someone... a few times, Scratching, Intimidation, Threats, Cornering and intruding on personal space), Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction | Pinterest Moodboard]

Kaveh should have been afraid.

Deep down, he believed he wasn't as stupid and gullible as everyone made him out to be, and yet, he sat still as you drew meaningless little patterns into his skin. The stolen pen scratched over his arm, leaving the area next to the ink red and agitated, but he didn't have it in him to tell you to stop.

You've been a depressed mess since you came to prison, not your typical murderer behind bars. He'd been dealing with a lot of them, and if they weren't the psychotic type, they were haughty and always up for cruel jokes.

But not you. You were... peaceful.

Even when you cried and begged him not to hurt you after you've been brought to his cell despite his protests, the air around you was calm. Unlike the storm of personalities outside the bars of your cell, Kaveh actually managed to think in peace when he was around you. He had learned to navigate and time his way around the prison. Still, with the ruckus and disgusting things happening in the shadowy corners, there was never any space for him to let go and relax for a while—until he met you.

The knowledge about your prolific murders should have upset him enough to keep his distance, but you reminded him too much of himself when he first came here. Scared and unable to go anywhere without being harassed by the others. You clung to him desperately when he told you to tag along to the cafeteria on your first night, and you still asked him to go to the washrooms with you for safety. Kaveh couldn't blame you for being scared. It was a scary world, outside and inside of this prison.

So even though he knew about your wrong-doings, he let you scribble your marks on him in ink. You were humming a song he hadn't heard before, your mind in your own world as you left butterfly wings and flower petals on his skin, and Kaveh honestly had no complaints. Coming here, art had become sparse around him, the radio rarely running, the TV filled with sports but never dancing or acting. The paintings on the walls leading to the facilities were, frankly, hideous copies of capitalistic emphasis, and the prison layout was a smack in the face of any architect.

And then there was you. Not a Picasso per definition, but you drew the patterns effortlessly, unbothered by pressure to perform and perfectionism. Every stroke of the ballpoint pen was all you, not a style you worked to learn or something you copied from another artist. It was all and truly just you. Kaveh had no idea how much he could admire someone—even someone as terrible as you. But he did.

"Let's leave from here. Together."

The words slipped from his lips before he could even think about them. Alhaitham's plan of escaping was still fresh, depending on some hacker he met in this prison, and Kaveh should have never talked about it so casually. He couldn't promise it, couldn't say it would actually work. But when you stopped scribbling, he realized his mistake, looking up at you in horror over his own blabbermouth.

Only to be met with tears streaming from your eyes.

"You'd take me with you? After all I've done?" you mumbled, rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes.

"You... you didn't do it to me. We could start over, somewhere new. Somewhere no one knows our faces and just... live. Quietly and unknown. Only if you want to come... with me."

For a long moment, you stared at him. Unblinking, unreadable. Your arms were thrown forward, wrapping around his neck before your whole body jumped into his lap, discarding the pen and leaving it to clatter on the floor. "Yes!" you agreed euphorically, smiling from ear to ear.

Kaveh felt the heat rush into his face, happiness prickling in the corners of his eyes as he hugged you back. It almost felt like you agreed to marry him, rather than just join him on the escape. But he knew then that he'd work hard to become the man you needed in the future. Someone reliable, someone who could provide you with a life that wouldn't need you killing anybody anymore. So that the dream of you two living together in peace could become reality.

«──────── 🗡♡ ︎𓍝 ────────»

Kaveh should have been afraid.

Deep down, he was as stupid and gullible as everyone told him. He believed that you could turn over a new leaf. Running away with you could become a new start, different from the pitiful life you two had. That the two of you could live away from cruelty and bloodshed, in peace and quiet and togetherness.

And yet, he was staring down at the cold-blooded killer he fell in love with. Whose trap had been placed so subtly that Kaveh ran right into it. He didn't even know you had a knife ready on the day of your escape, and there was no one left—alive—aside from you two to turn to. Everyone who had fled had spread into different directions, and now it was only him and you and the dead corpses of the police that had caught up to you.

It was his fault, entirely so. They might have survived this encounter if he hadn't gotten close to you and you hadn't been convinced to run away with him. Had he not gotten himself caught, maybe you wouldn't have turned back to help him and had kept running instead, far, far away. Perhaps you wouldn't have pulled out your blade and killed these innocent men who were only doing their job to keep unruly people away from society. That kept psychos like you away from more victims to massacre.

"[Name]..." Kaveh stammered, not believing his own, wide-open eyes. The hand he was holding out towards you was shaking violently as he watched you slam the knife into the policeman's back again and again, blood spraying all over you and the squelching sound of flesh being stabbed echoing through the forest. Somehow, he had gotten back on his feet after being tackled to the ground. However, now that he had to watch you defend him so violently, Kaveh wished he had stayed face-down in the dirt.

"GET YOUR HAND OFF HIM! HE'S MINE!" you kept yelling at the dead body, and Kaveh couldn't help but feel pity for the guy as you mauled him. "YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM! HE BELONGS TO ME! HE'S MINE! MINE!"

Your voice was a screech in the dark, possessiveness thrumming in every word you screamed. Even if you two had grown closer the last few days, Kaveh couldn't understand your thoughts. Although you had protected him, seeing the blood drip off you in the moonlight only sent shivers down his spine rather than thankfulness. And where he felt a crush bloom in his heart before, there was nothing but terror and disgust left.

"[Name]--" he tried again, this time a little firmer as he grabbed your shoulder.

Instantly, you whirled around, fury and madness in your eyes. The bloody blade swiped up his arms, cutting up the beautifully drawn pattern left by you. Kaveh knew it was just an accident, but he couldn't help but yell, "Ow!" holding his own arm firmly against his chest as he stared at you fearfully. Stumbling back, he tripped over a root, the pain of collapsing to the ground shaking him, but fear forced him to keep watching you. What if he was your next victim? Nothing about you screamed trustworthy, and yet, when you came to your senses, you changed completely.

Suddenly, your body went slack, eyes swelling up with tears as you looked at him. "Kaveh!" you sobbed, the knife falling to the ground as you stumbled to your feet, knees buckling so you collapsed into the dirt before him. You stretched out your arms, but this time, Kaveh managed to jerk away, avoiding your blood-soaked hug.

However, you were just a little faster than him. A little more alert. You managed to grab the wounded arm, your tears stinging as they fell into his wound. Leaning over his limb, you cried bitterly, but Kaveh couldn't help but try and tug his arm from your hands. Immediately, your crying stopped, fingers clawing into your skin as he tried to get you off him—no success.

"You can't leave me!" you sobbed, looking up with tears in your eyes. Manipulative tears, as Kaveh began to realize, the reality starting to dawn on him. "I love you! We'll have a life together! We'll go somewhere no one knows us! I won't kill again, I promise! I just didn't want them to hurt you... I wanted them to leave you alone! I won't do it again, I can be harmless, I promise!"

His gut wrenched, hearing you throw his words back at him. Now knowing how easy it was for you to end someone's life, how much of a crazy person you really were, it felt like he was the one that had been gutted. Maybe everything would be fine this time, but Kaveh couldn't justify it with himself to find out. Your hands were already so bloody; no trying to pretend you were normal was going to wash away your sins. At least he never killed someone. He couldn't imagine someone doing it as easily as you had, not even thinking twice before attacking.

"N-No..." he stammered, unable to put all these feelings into words.

"No?" you repeated, the tears stopping suddenly. "What do you mean 'no'? I saved you, didn't I? Without me, you'd be the dead one!"

Your tone changed so quickly that it scared him to the bone. The fire started back up in your eyes as you glared at him. Kaveh felt your nails dig into his arm, tearing apart layers of skin as your anger turned towards him.

"You won't leave me! You can't leave me!"

With your voice raising back into screeching, Kaveh shuddered, eyeing the knife that laid out of reach. You didn't need it, your nails cutting into his flesh just as painfully. Fear was mangling every muscle in his body, making them tense and tainting his judgment.

"O-okay," he stuttered out, and immediately, the pressure vanished. Your shoulders slacked, and a smile crept back on your lips as you whispered, "Thank god..."

You hunched over his wounded arm, now punctured by your nails and the cut starting to dry up. The next thing Kaveh felt was wetness wiping over his wounds, your tongue lapping off the blood that stained him, whether it was his or the one dripping from you.

"I love you," you mumbled while licking. "I love you, Kaveh. You're so nice, so sweet. You're perfect, and you're mine. All mine. Kaveh, Kaveh, Kaveh..."

Looking down at the unsightly view before him, Kaveh couldn't help but pity himself. Had he known what he got himself into, could he have prevented this? Which version of you had been the real one, and had you pretended to be sweet and shy, tricking him into this all this time? Or was it real? So many questions and so few answers. All he could think of was how he had been scammed yet again as he watched the ink smear from your licking, the beautifully drawn butterflies vanishing alongside those in his belly, all of them dropping dead.

And now, Kaveh was afraid.

[writr4luvrs]

tw: yandere themes, toxic relationship, toxic work environment, not proofread

Oh, Yandere!Reader you're so cute. "File these papers and I'll reward you with a kiss." "Go grab my belt off my desk and I'll give you a pat on your head." "Make sure to not use too much bleach when getting the blood out my dresshirt this time and we can have dinner tomorrow night." Oh, Yandere!Reader, you're so loved when you get the proper attention. You're so happy and attentive to be in their gaze and feel their warmth. *sigh* it's kinda pathetic but fine, you deserve this one lil peck on the cheek for being so good this past week.

Makima, Erwin, Miche, Nanami, Higuruma, Quanxi, Levi

[mytheoristavenue]

Stalker!Amajiki x Stalker!Reader where they're both equally obsessed with eqchother and still oblivious to the others' feelings.

You keep a keepsake box with soft indigo locks inside under your bed, and he keeps a stolen bottle of your perfume on his nightstand.

You stare at him in class until he catches you, sketching little doodles of him in your notebook. He stares at you in class until you catch him, jotting down how pretty you look in the sunlight.

You go through his bag when he's not looking, swiping discarded notes just to know what he's thinking- only to find them all about you. He goes through your bag with the same intent, only to find countless candid drawings of him.

You follow him to him too his dorm, only to peek into the window and find him gone. Little do you know, he's hiding in your closet, equally dismayed.

[elsecrytt]

Kinktober Day 5

Prostate Massage | Blindfold | Cages

Pairing: Satoru Gojo X Reader

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, yandere/controlling behavior, drugging, captivity, panic attack

He’s missing again.

This is more surprising than one might think – Gojo, for all his whimsical tendencies, doesn’t typically slack on exorcizing curses.

It’s why they think he’s just going off the grid for a bit to take care of some other business – goodness knows he drags in enough sorcerer children to the school.

But it’s been a while, and no one’s heard from him.

If he had meant to defect, he would surely have done it when Suguru Geto was still alive. So this must be another fit of arrogance, running off and doing whatever he pleased. It was annoying, but who could stop him? He was, after all, the strongest sorcerer in the world.

Certainly, no one was expecting to find Satoru Gojo in a cage inside your basement.

You’re not a sorcerer, after all. No one Satoru knew or had ever known would even know your name, much less where you live and that Satoru was with you.

You don’t even bother visiting him for the first few days. There’d be no point. He’d try to convince you this was a bad idea (it probably was) and to let him go (you absolutely could not, not under any circumstances). He probably wouldn’t lie – you never thought him to be the type, even if his life were truly on the line – but nothing he said would be of any use to you.

He’d already said enough when under the influence of those helpful substances you slipped him. You’d gone through a few before you found one that made him pliable enough to repeat the words you needed.

A binding vow. One that would keep him here, and keep him tame, for as long as you wanted.

Oh, you’re sure he was terribly confused for those first few days. Wondering what kind of curse or curse technique had him trapped in there. Poor baby was probably bored to death, too, if anything you knew about him was correct.

But it would take a while to get to him, to get him to the place he needed to be. And you had all the time you needed.

After all, good things come to those who wait.

You open the door, a thrill in your heart at the thought of just how excited Satoru Gojo is going to be to see you.

The worst part is, you’re right.

Satoru’s been stuck in here for three days now. He is, frankly, bored. Worse than bored. He’s sort of going insane.

It’s not like he needs to use the restroom, or even eat. Sorcerers – anyone who could use reverse curse technique, really – had ways to suspend bodily functions and stuff like that, for use on long missions, in extreme environments, or domains with weird effects.

So, no. He’s not hungry, or thirsty, he doesn’t need to use the restroom. That’ll catch up with him eventually, of course, but it’s not a problem right now.

The problem right now is that someone was powerful enough to trap him in here, had some weird power that stopped him from escaping, but they just. Left him.

All. Alone. In the dark. Even with the six eyes, it was dark in here. He can tell where the door is, but the light level is far beneath what a normal human could see. There’s almost no sound. No cursed energy at all. Nothing interesting in the room to stare at, nothing moving.

It was a weird, surreal sort of experience, for about ten minutes. Hard to tell even how much time was passing. Just the sound of his breath and the thoughts knocking around in his head. He didn’t get time like this often, didn’t just sit down and think. It cleared his head in a strange way – no more migraines, no more constant analyses from his six eyes, no more reverse curse technique constantly healing his brain.

Like taking off a weight he hadn’t noticed was there to begin with. He felt lighter, so many physical demands suddenly lifted from his body. A breath of fresh air.

Fresh air got old pretty fast, when most of his thoughts kept coalescing on Why can’t I use my curse technique and What the hell is going on? At first, there was even fear, too – he wasn’t totally crazy – but after that?

This is just boring. He’s never been so bored in his entire life. His brain feels like it’s rattling in his skull, waiting to drop out the next time he tilts his head. Satoru is about ready to start banging it against the bars just to have something to listen to.

So when you open the door, light suddenly flooding in from a crack (it’s bright enough to make him wince, with his eyes), Satoru Gojo is entirely focused on you, in an instant. Taking in every single detail about your body, your voice, your cursed energy and cadence.

It’s amazing, how much you can learn when you pay attention.

He learns that you’re not a sorcerer. That he’s not kept here by any curse technique or tool – rather, it’s by a binding vow. One that only you can release. You’d drugged him through his infinity using a knockout gas and gotten his half-conscious self to repeat specific words to make the vow.

He learns you think you’re doing this to help him, save him.

“I just don’t think you’re that strong. I mean, it was easy enough for me to get you like this, right? And I’m not a sorcerer at all.”

His eyes are fixed on you like shattered sapphires. You’re insane – you must be – but it isn’t every day some insane person manages to get one over on him.

Maybe the reason you were able to get this far with him was because you were so crazy.

“For your whole life, you’ve had to be strong.” Your eyes soften; he can discern your features on a microscopic level, the tiny flecks of warmth and concern, “But you aren’t. And you don’t have to try anymore. I’ll protect you.”

Something weird twists in his guts.

There’s lots of kinds of crazy in Jujutsu sorcerer. He’s no stranger to it. But this kind of crazy? He’s never seen it before.

Love is the most twisted curse of them all.

And that is what you tell him, that you love him. You continue by telling him all sorts of funny things – that you’re taking care of him now, getting him back on track, this is for his own good, yada yada.

It’s definitely crazy person speak, but it’s new and refreshing that it’s directed towards him. And maybe because it’s so novel and fun, he goes ahead and sits back and enjoys it.

Like, he tries to tell you he’s important. People to protect, students to teach, all that stuff. You just dismiss him, tell him he’s weak, tell him he doesn’t know what’s best for him. He wasn’t meant for sorcery – his life will be better, now.

(Somewhere in the back of his head, he realizes with a belated horror, that this is what he sounds like to other people.)

 It’s funny, though, it is. He laughs at you (you smile, though, because you’re delusional like that, even if you can tell he’s mocking you), at the thought that he could be meant for anything but sorcery.

And hey, it’s not like he’s got anywhere to be. Anywhere he can be. He’ll give it a try.

Although it’s not so much a try as endure the very carefully calculated daily plans you lay out for him. You’ve got a lot of free time – probably some work-from-home position – and a lot of money, too.

(Great taste in body wash also. Amber and honeysuckle or something. He’ll have to remember it when he gets out of here.)

The room he’s in is special in that it’s painted a gentle off-white color, and sparsely decorated. His little cage is large enough to fit him just sitting down, tall as he is, and it’s large enough for a cot in the corner. It’s kind of cozy, he’ll admit, in a camping kind of way.

When you send him to bed – yes, like an actual child – he finds out the cot is a lot softer than he’d expected, some kind of memory foam he’s never tried. The sheets are extra cooling, the pillow feels like a dream, the room is pitch black and chilly. It only takes him a few minutes of moody contemplation to start drifting off after he lays down.

Sleep training, you’d called it. Satoru’s pretty sure he’d be offended if he actually knew what it was.

“You have your healing powers, sure,” (when he’d interrupted you to tell you it was reverse curse technique you’d paused and waited out his explanation like a champ), “But there’s no substitute for a good eight hours of sleep, Satoru.”

Your voice is stern and laden with something he can’t quite get, but it doesn’t matter anyways. He’ll be out soon.

It’s interesting, lying down inside the cage. This room is so small. It’s all fitted just for him, perfectly sized to leave neither empty space nor squeeze him too tight. His world is reduced to this cage and the things you choose to put in it.

He’s quick to complain about the boredom, but you don’t mind his whining. You actually hook up several game consoles to a small TV set carefully placed at head height for him, sitting up, with controllers you hand him through the bars.

“I’ll have to limit your screen time – it’s not good for your eyes. It’s probably even worse for the six eyes. So I’ve got a collection of books here, and an e-reader, so you can get anything you want. Oh! I’ve also brought some puzzles.”

Yaaawwwn. You don’t even flinch at his exaggerated expression of boredom, promising instead to find more complex puzzles online to entertain him. Rubik’s cubes, jigsaws – these things bored him. He put everything together right away.

You find a puzzle made in braille, one that has to be put together by touch. Brain teasers that required out-of-the-box thinking… you’d even brought him a jigsaw puzzle with a mixed up image printed on it, one that couldn’t be put together by the visuals at all. He had to hand it to you, that was neat.

There’s almost an amusement in watching how diligent you are about finding things to entertain him with. The video games, the books, the puzzles, some TV, too. He’s half worried that you stole his collection of movies, but it turns out you just have some streaming services. It’s fun enough to kill time. Human Earthworm 4 really was garbage.

You laugh when he tells you so. Your defense of the dumb movie is that it was half-parody (you are correct), and he tells you with a sniff that you have no taste, and you laugh, and his stomach feels funny.

Clearly the isolation is getting to him, if you feel like decent company.

He takes meals with you, too, and you’re particular about them. No more mochi for breakfast and dinner, no more coffee at all actually – “It’ll interfere with your rest,” – instead, you make him eat ‘real food’.

Complete, home-cooked, admittedly delicious meals. They’re all way more palatable than most things he eats, all foods he likes, he ends up liking… at first he didn’t want to try, but you’d dangled so many sweet looking deserts over his head – specially made mochi, fresh souffles and macarons, carefully crafted crystal candies.

Ugh, you know way too much about him. And you look so pleased with yourself, too. He wonders if you make them yourself – so he asks, and watches your face blush lightly, watches you smile, eyes softening as you look at him in that way he doesn’t get.

Isolation. It’s getting to him. Definitely.

“And of course, I’ll be here to allow you socialization time. We could play games together, or if you want, we could read the same books? Or just talk, if you like. I’m not letting you out, but I’d be happy to hear about your life from before, your likes and dislikes. You can make requests, too!”

Normally he’d be all like “No way, creepy kidnapper,” seriously. But to be honest, he’s kind of looking forward to a chance to pick your brain.

You seem all too happy to oblige. Delighted that he’s taking an interest in you, which is kinda cute and pathetic, since it’s totally not what’s happening. He just wants to know how the hell you got to be so fucking weird.

“I think love makes us all a little crazy, don’t you? As for why I love you, Satoru… well. I couldn’t pick only one reason. Suffice to say, I’m really happy to be talking to you now. It probably sounds weird to you, but being around you just these past few days has been awesome for me. Being around you just brings me so much joy. I want to make it good for you, too!”

Yeah, to be honest, it’s really weird how accommodating you are. You let him out for bathroom breaks at regular intervals – he’s still not sure why you put him in the cage at all –

“Oh, the cage? That’s for your benefit, not mine. Obviously this room is locked. But I think you… it’s difficult to explain. But your awareness of the space around you is warped somehow. I constantly see you nap in awkward places, sit or lean in positions that would stress your body out, zone out from your surroundings. I think it’s important to reset your senses.”

It’s creepy at this point. Or it would be, if it hadn’t blown wayyy past that part.

He likes that you don’t press him much. You just confess your love and go on about your day. No expectations, no freak outs. You’re crazy but you’re obviously not so crazy you think he loves you back. You just think you’re trying to do the right thing by him, which is like, really sweet, in a super weird and demented way.

Satoru had already decided that he doesn’t want to go after you once he gets out of here. You’re not malevolent, even if some distant part of his mind knows that people are dying while he’s chilling out in here.

No, you’re just lonely, and you’ve somehow attached yourself to him with this completely delusional idea that you understand him on a deeper level, and you wanted to protect him. Wasn’t that sweet? The cutest thing?

He can’t really bring himself to be mad at you. Not when you’re probably the only person on earth who’s ever thought this about him, who tried to do something about it. And it’s a damn good try, he’ll give you that.

The cage really isn’t that small. It’s comfortable in here, actually, it’s nice. It’s simple and easy in a way that would be boring if you didn’t give him company, entertainment, meals. The bed is so easy to fall asleep in, he has more energy waking up, he’s happier,

He gets where you’re coming from. You’re still totally insane, of course, but he sees the idea behind it. It’s not the space that he’s in. It’s what’s happening in that space.

It’s his time. And you seem to have so many ways to occupy it.

He starts thinking about you more and more. It gets weirder. He runs into you fresh out of the shower, no clothes on, watches the blush on your face and feels himself –

No. No, no no. It’s not a big deal. It’s whatever. He knew you were crushing on him. You’d made absolutely no secret of your feelings, and he knows the attraction is there, he can tell.

So maybe he sneaks in a hand job or two during these lonely nights. Purely for fun. It’s your fault for not stimulating him enough!

Are you watching on camera? That’s what all the stalkers do. You’re totally a stalker, you know way too much about him. You have all his skincare, shampoo, and conditioner in the bathroom.

You’re totally watching him. He licks his lips while he jerks himself. If he listens hard enough he can hear your breath in the other room.

(Turns out you’re all the way down the hall, but he’s got the six eyes, not the six ears.)

He could put on a show for you, even. His dick gets harder at the thought. He wonders if you’ve thought about this. If you watch him in the cage touching himself. If you want to be in here with him. In the room, or in the cage.

Would you want to touch? The thought absolutely tickles him, has him twitching in his hands, licking his lips. Would you want him so badly? You’re so dedicated, so diligent about his welfare. He could just imagine your pretty lips opening right up, how hot and wet your mouth would be, how those eyes of yours would look at him, always so full of care and affection.

Your hair looks soft, silky even – what would it feel like in his hands? Are you so crazy for him you’d let him fuck your face, or would you guide him through it, like you guide him through everything?

A pulse, another pulse, throbbing in his fist. Your hands would be smaller, softer. What would they feel like on his bare skin? He’s gotten more skin-to-skin contact these paste few weeks than the past ten years. What would you feel like on him? How would you touch him, where?

How would you look at him? He thinks of your face – of your eyes when you smile at him – he feels a squeeze –

When he cums, he does it with an exaggerated moan, head tilted back, lips wide and open. Spurting all over his hand as he makes a little blissful sigh.

He looks up, where he imagines a camera might be, eyes half-lidded. Smirk fighting to tear his lips as he closes them around his fingers, licking them clean.

Maybe you weren’t watching, but that doesn’t stop him. Not from giving you looks the next day.

There’s something in his chest. Wobbling around. Something knocked loose. He finds himself waiting for you to visit, impatient between meals. Demanding. You give, and give of course, but you never give any indication that you’ve seen what he did.

Actually… that was probably his way out.

He tries to proposition you, of course. Lays it on thick. But you hesitate to accept. You blush, and he thinks cute, he thinks he’s got you, but you act like you’re too good for him or something, like you’re not sure if you really want to be with him.

Like you’re too good to be seduced by him? When you fucking kidnapped him in the first place? You don’t want to come in here in the cage you put him in?

It makes him acidic. The rattling in his chest feels like the rattling in his head, only, his tolerance has gotten so much lower.

It’s not long before he snaps at you.

“What?” He says cruelly, words escaping him without his will, “You didn’t think I liked you or anything, did you?”

There’s something mean in his voice, something awful that curdles in his chest. He brandishes it like a sword. Swinging at you, carving sorrow over your features.

“You fucking kidnapped me.” The words come as a surprise even to him, but it was true, wasn’t it? “I’m not here willingly. You’re keeping me here against me will, you’re not helping me. Did you think I’d forget?”

(He can’t even convince himself of that lie. He knows he’d forgotten.)

You look at him, something strange in your eye.

“…If you want to leave, then leave.” You say, and he feels it, like the click of a lock, the crunch of a shackle. How the Binding Vow unwinds in an instant. “I’m not going to drag you back. It’s pointless to keep you here if you hate it so much.”

He tells himself he darted straight out. He didn’t hesitate for a single moment.

But he can’t tell himself that he didn’t look back. That would be too blatant a lie.

He tries not to think about the look on your face, empty and indifferent. He tries not to think about how it felt like a knife to his chest.

And just like that, he’s back. And –

“Gojo? About time you showed up. There’s several special grades waiting for you to exorcise. Where the hell were you? Okkotsu has barely been able to help out your other students.”

His students. His precious students, the ones who needed him, the ones he was preparing to take over the Jujutsu world –

God, the world is so big, isn’t it? It feels so vast and massive now, like he’s suddenly stepped into the shadow of a terrible monolith, blocking out the sun. It doesn’t feel like the first daylight he’s seen in weeks. This light is blinding, like a shadow convalesced.

“Gojo, do you hear me? I’m sending Ichiji over with the car.”

And there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, dragging him down in a way he normally doesn’t feel. This isn’t something that bothers him. For the life of him, he can’t figure out why.

He likes fighting. He likes sorcery, and he’s good at it. Exorcizing curses, beating curse-users to shit. It’s fun. He’s so strong that it’s not a risk anymore, just something to do with his overpowered abilities, and that’s cool. He’s not afraid, not in any universe.

So why does the voice asking him when he’s going to go kill these curses fill him with a sudden, inexplicable nausea?

Why does the thought of having to do this again, all over again, always on repeat, have the pit of his stomach burning? Like there’s a pressure on his shoulders that he knows he can’t relieve.

Satoru knows he has to do this. He’s the only one who can. Other sorcerers are weak – many of them would die. For some of these special grades, it’s him or nothing, with the lives of regular civilians on the line.

Each thought sends his stomach churning. He has to. He has to. He has to do it he has to go he has to he can’t avoid it. Today and tomorrow and the next day, too, over and over and over again.

The sky – it’s so big. So massively big, so wide and yawning, he feels like he’s falling into it. His head is pounding, information flooding back through his senses. One special grade, two, three or four – he has to teleport to them, exorcise them. He has to teach his students. He has to report to the elders. He has to – he has to – there’s so much, so much to do –

The six eyes are screaming at him, the sky is screaming, light burning into his retinas it’s too bright. Too fucking bright out here.

His legs carry him to a nearby wall. He’s leaning against it, now, breaths coming heavy and labored.

And then, it comes. He’d only been half expecting it – part of him still probably thought he was invincible, untouchable.

And he’s right. Nothing is touching him. It just feels like his skin is crawling for no reason. Pins and needles, electric adrenaline racing through every last nerve fiber in his body.

He’s simultaneously too strong and feverishly weak, collapsing against the wall. Gravity feels like it’s pulling harder, off balance, only it shouldn’t be. He should be fine, he should be able to move his limbs however he wants, they shouldn’t feel gangly and overresponsive and desperately twitchy.

His heart shouldn’t be trying to beat itself out of his chest. His lungs shouldn’t feel like they’re on fire. He shouldn’t have alarm bells going off his head, his limbs burning hot with too much energy and not enough.

Between ragged breaths he catches a faint, familiar scent, warm like sunlight –

“Satoru?”

It’s – it’s – it’s you, you’re back, and something awful in his chest jumps with irrational delight, a weight shifting on his shoulders, almost lifted. He tries to control his racing pulse, stammer through your name –

A mind, indifferent gaze meets his eyes. It freezes him in place. All his anxiety swinging on a precipice.

“Is something wrong?” A voice that betrays no emotion, no affection, no hidden longing. No I missed you, or I’m happy to see you, or I hope you weren’t lonely while I was gone.

He’s going insane, he must be going insane, but with all the adrenaline shooting through him, limbs trembling, he’s barely able to keep himself upright against the wall.

“Don’t – don’t you – ” Insane, insane, he knows he’s delirious while he’s saying this, why is he saying it, but his body is acting on his behalf, mind paralyzed with fright, “Don’t you want me?”

How could he sound so – needy? So forlorn? You’d fucking kidnapped him, he should be afraid, he should be angry, if anything.

(Maybe that was his fault from the beginning. He’d never really been quick to anger. Never been one to fear others, either. Deep down, the only thing that had ever hurt him was being left behind.)

Even the six eyes cannot discern your tone, “I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me. I tried to make things work with you. You didn’t want it.”

He didn’t, of course he didn’t, you were keeping him fucking captive. He knows this, the information is there in his mind, but his body won’t stop shaking. The sky is too big, the street is too broad, too many bodies, too much cursed energy, every object in every direction overwhelming his senses.

It feels like a migraine. It feels like his legs are about to give out under him, no solid earth to be found. Too big it’s too big he wants to go –

“Unless… you want to come back?”

Satoru knows he doesn’t. He knows the answer is no. He knows that you fucked him up, that this is a consequence of your captivity directly, that he should be able to overcome this if he just bears with it –

I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me. I tried.

“Please,” His voice says without his permission, “I want…” To go home. Take me back. Don’t leave me.

Relief floods the entirety of his quaking form as soon as you smile.

“Of course, Satoru,” Your eyes soften, and against all rationality, he feels like he’s made the right choice, “Take my hand. Let’s go home.”

He’s messed up, this is messed up. He’s better than this! He isn’t stupid, he knows what you’re doing! He has the six eyes, for fuck’s sake, he’s the strongest sorcerer in the world!

You’re not strong, Satoru. You only think you are, and I understand why. The whole world has been telling you this forever. But you aren’t, and that’s okay. I’ll protect you.

He doesn’t have to be the strongest sorcerer. Not if he doesn’t want to. He can go back where it’s dark and comfortable and warm, and he can be Satoru Gojo, your cherished pet.

He looks at you, six eyes blinding him, headache burning though his skull. He thinks of how close and soft and safe that place was. How you stayed with him for hours and hours on end. He never had to be alone.

Nothing has ever felt as right as your hand clasped with his own.

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Concubine!(Y/N), who gets into the palace because of a mistake made by her father, the general. Her native land is destroyed and literally trampled under the feet of a man who is called "a god born in the body of a mortal." When the soldiers came to her house, (Y/N) tried to escape from them, but ended up being caught and sent to the palace along with many other young girls.

Concubine!(Y/N), who was noticed by the emperor's chief aide, Suguru Geto, and promoted to concubine status.

Concubine!(Y/N), whom the emperor calls "an innocent and sweet girl" with a chuckle. (Y/N) doesn't look up at him, she only listens as he talks about how he is very curious about how his new concubine will survive in such a cruel place like the imperial palace.

Concubine!(Y/N), in whose heart an incredible hatred for the young emperor was kindled. Because of him, she lost her home and family, her status, her wealth, and everything else that fate had given her. Now she is ready to kill the emperor, even if it takes her own life.

Concubine!(Y/N), who quickly abandons her plans as soon as she really sees... him up close. No man from her homeland could compare to the young Emperor Satoru Gojo. This man, who was taller than any general or official, managed to smile as sincerely and warmly as little children do when they see one of their parents. His aura seemed to draw (Y/N) towards him. As soon as she looked into those heavenly eyes, she couldn't think of anything but the man who had ordered her family estate to be burned to the ground.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who changes her decisions incredibly quickly, but she absolutely doesn't care.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is beginning to be called a "traitor to her motherland". Her own former maids turn their backs on her when they discover that she has fallen in love with the Emperor at first sight. But what they didn't know was that their lady's heart was never as kind and good as they thought it was.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who doesn't understand what's going on with her. She can't take her eyes off the Emperor. She wants to stare at him for hours, even if they put her on hot coals and force her to endure horrific torture. She would do anything to keep admiring him.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who seems to be enchanted by these heavenly eyes, given by the gods themselves. She doesn't know why she can't stop admiring them, as well as the fluffy white hair, pale skin, and cheeky boyish smile, as if Satoru Gojo isn't an emperor running a huge country, but a neighborhood boy calling (Y/N) to play with him in the yard.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is gradually going crazy. Any rational thoughts are obscured by the emperor's face, the sound of his laughter, the smell of him, and the feel of his skin under her fingers. It's a trap set by the gods to force mortals into submission. Now (Y/N) understands why there has never been even the slightest revolt against the emperor in the empire.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who wants the emperor to be hers and hers alone. She's willing to do anything to get his attention. She is ready to trample her feet into meat to perform the most beautiful dance for him. She is ready to read hundreds of books to impress him with her knowledge. She is ready to argue for hours and listen to the speeches of the palace "smart guys" in order to please the emperor with a stupid joke or a witty phrase.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is ready to go to study with prostitutes, just to please her emperor. And when their first night together happens, she's ready to give him all of her, leaving nothing for herself. So when Satoru gently removes her jewelry and whispers "don't worry, I'll take care of everything, you just need to relax and honestly whisper how much you love me", (Y/N) falls in love with him even more.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who falls into the abyss of depravity and sin, only to be the only one whose body is near the emperor's bed.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who notices that the other concubines don't consider her their "rival". They believe that (Y/N) is a "wild, barbaric", "daughter of a defeated enemy", "girl whom the emperor took into his harem out of pity". And it makes something that has been trying to wake up all this time open its eyes completely.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who with her own beautiful, well-groomed hands, which only recently played beautiful melodies for the emperor and touched his naked body, makes a real hell.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who personally plunges a dagger into the chest of her father, who has been in prison all this time, killing him. All she wants is for the Emperor to have no doubts about her loyalty! The emperor's advisor and childhood best friend Suguru doubts that the concubine is okay. "Satoru, she literally drooled after she killed her father and looked at you. I think she's sick or something." "She's just very loyal to her emperor. What's the problem, Suguru?"

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who along with killing her father killed her humanity.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is suspiciously close to the palace doctor. Everyone is saying that soon (Y/N) will be pregnant with a princess or prince, so it would be nice for her to get an ally in the form of a good doctor. (Y/N) does not even know whether to laugh at the naive speeches of others or not.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who manipulates the first, youngest, concubine and forces her to run off with a young servant, with whom the other girl allegedly "fell in love at first sight". They are forced to leave the country because such behavior is interpreted as a betrayal of the emperor.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who uses sleeping pills, kidnaps a second concubine and sells her to a brothel. The girl can't even go back because she's declared a traitor and will be executed as soon as the guards catch her!

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who puts poison in the third concubine's food. Ah, what a pity that the girl suddenly died for unknown reasons! And the fact that (Y/N) secretly gave her small doses of poison that can't kill immediately has nothing to do with it! Just like the fact that the maidservant who had tasted the concubine's food had been drinking the antidote along with her evening tea all this time. Ah, it seems that someone is going to be hanged for poisoning her own mistress!

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who throws the fourth concubine off a cliff while walking. She flies straight at the sharp rocks washed by the sea, and then her body freezes, broken and pierced. Her flesh is devoured by predators, and soon no trace of the woman remains.

The main assistant!Suguru, who tells his close friend that there is definitely something wrong here. "The concubines started dying one by one after (Y/N) arrived at the harem. Maybe we should order guards to keep a better eye on her?" What for? (Y/N) looks so innocent, I'm sure she couldn't even punish a thief caught pickpocketing! Besides, what did these women want anyway? Being the emperor's concubine means putting your life on the line. There is no place more unsafe for a concubine than the imperial palace."

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who can't stand the thought of her emperor touching another woman. So when the lucky concubine returns from him, (Y/N) can't wait. She raises her dagger and plunges it right into the other girl's neck.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who cuts another concubine into pieces, strips the skin from those parts of the body where the girl could touch her emperor. In the (Y/N)`s head, Satoru Gojo belongs to her and only to her. Because who else can make him happier than (Y/N)? That's right... no one.

The main assistant!Suguru, who sees (Y/N) in front of him dismembering into small pieces a concubine who only recently smiled sweetly at him and asked what kind of tea their emperor prefers.

The main assistant!Suguru, who wants to call the guards or deal with the situation himself, but he freezes when he hears the same gentle, beautiful voice that his best friend constantly hears. He watches (Y/N)`s lips move, but he can't hear anything. It's like she's saying a spell that makes Suguru go away and not say anything to the guards or the emperor.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who, as usual, sobs violently at the funeral of another concubine, hiding a smile in the clothes of the emperor, who pulled her to his chest to hug and calm her down. She knows they won't be doing anything in his bed tonight. Satoru will just lie there, clutching the last surviving concubine, as if trying to protect her from the maniac who lives in the palace grounds and so skillfully evades justice and guards.

The main assistant!Suguru, who does not understand how he was manipulated that day, even when he is standing at the funeral. Still, he can't stay silent forever. He had to do something.

The main assistant!Suguru, who tells everything to his best friend, but in response, the emperor only laughs and sends him on forced leave. Suguru is afraid to leave his friend alone with a literally psychopath, but Satoru says that he is a great emperor, no one can beat him. Especially if it's some cute little concubine!

The Honored One, the Great Emperor!Satoru, who was born with special "Six Eyes" and "Limitless" abilities that only the imperial family knows about. Six Eyes can see everything that happens in the empire, so Satoru all along the identity of the little assassin slaughtering his concubines. Limitless also changes space itself, it gets into people's heads and changes their brains. And so no one... no one is physically capable of hating Emperor Satoru. They are simply fascinated by him, like puppets.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who was lucky enough to become the great emperor's favorite puppet. No one would believe that the charming empress who received this status from the emperor himself broke the necks of many elders who were not affected by Limitless with her own hands. No one would believe that there was nothing left in those beautiful eyes but a blind and obsessive love for the emperor.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who was another stepping stone for Satoru, so that he and his country ascended to the top.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who loves her emperor so much that she will be happy even if he steps or sits on her. She is willing to endure any humiliation if it comes from her dear emperor.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), whose mind most easily succumbed to the Limitless effect. But (Y/N) is all the same. She just loves her emperor to the point of cutting off other people's heads and breaking all her fingers if its make her emperor smile.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who, even if she knew about the existence of Limitless and looked at her actions rationally, did not want to take everything back. Because that's what she made the meaning of her life. And if her beloved emperor wants to use her in any other way than in bed, she will accept it with a smile.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is so obsessed with the sweet, poisonous love of her beloved emperor that she has completely lost all moral foundations and conscience.

Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is… happy even though her hands are covered in someone else's blood. As long as it's for the Emperor's sake, for Satoru Gojo's sake... she'll shed her own blood as well.

[miyuuuki]

Craving me some Yandere x Narcissist! Reader rn. Imagine a Yandere being so obsessed with you, so inlove with how you know how precious and absolutely gorgeous you are. Them showering praises on you and you sucking it up but responding with a simple “I know.”

[theres-a-body-here]

Darling~

Miguel O'Hara x Male!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 |

As Miguel slipped in and out of consciousness, he became vaguely aware of being dragged along the hallway by some unknown force. It wasn't until he regained some level of lucidity that he realized it was one of your black tendrils wrapped firmly around his ankle.

All around, the sounds of battle echoed - cries of pain and success melding together, only to become silence as you took him deeper into the structure's internal complex.

You hummed softly to yourself, navigating the maze-like corridors with ease while keeping Miguel close at hand

"V-Venom," Miguel managed to croak out, struggling against the paralyzing effects of Scorpion's poison coursing through his veins.

Continuing the journey deeper into the base, you cast a tender gaze upon Miguel. Your voice held a sickly sweet tone, gently whispering words meant for his ears alone.

"We've missed you so much, amor."

Miguel, however, was barely holding on, fighting back waves of nausea caused by the debilitating toxin coursing through his veins. He opened his mouth to respond, but only managed a pitiful moan in reply.

The sudden ceasing of movement rouses Miguel from his drowsy state just enough to notice you stopping in front of a door marked by a prominent medical symbol.

Everything became hazy again as your slimy, black tendrils went to work on breaking through the keypad lock securing entry.

Then, everything went black for Miguel…

~~~~~~~~~~

A low hum gradually filtered into Miguel's awareness, slowly awakening him from unconsciousness. He groggily blinked open his eyes, greeted by a harsh glare emanating from the sterile white ceiling above him.

Disoriented, he soon discovered he lay atop a cold metallic stretcher, rigid and unforgiving beneath him.

Grunting in discomfort, Miguel rolled his head to the side where a tray of medical supplies rested on wheels. Various syringes and vials occupied its surface, suggesting recent use.

Just as Miguel started to relax, a chillingly serene voice invaded his personal space.

"We were worried you wouldn't wake," you said nonchalantly, studying him with such intensity.

Startled, he whipped his head towards the source, finding you perched comfortably on another bed nearby.

Eyes locked onto yours, Miguel felt his blood run cold at your unsettling calmness – unmistakably predatory in nature.

An oppressive silence filled the space between you both, punctuated only by the relentless buzzing of fluorescent lights above.

Unsettling tranquility hung heavy in the air as you leaned forward expectantly, ready to continue your conversation.

"We hope you were dreami-"

However, before you could finish speaking, Miguel sprang into action. In one swift motion, he flung himself off the stretcher, grabbed its metal railing, and hurled the entire thing directly at you with impressive speed.

You remained entirely unfazed by the incoming projectile as long tendrils burst forth from underneath your clothing, effortlessly stopping the stretcher mere inches from your face.

Each individual strand contorted and flexed in unison, crushing and tearing into the metal structure with minimal effort before casting aside remnants like discarded waste material.

As quickly as it had begun, it ended; an eerie stillness hanging in the air.

Miguel was gone.

"Rude."

There was no anger in your tone - simply mild irritation tinged with disappointment.

~~~~~~~~~~

Miguel sprinted through the winding corridors without looking back, every fiber of his being urging him forward. Every muscle screamed in agony as he rounded corners and vaulted obstacles with newfound determination.

Eventually reaching the expansive hub of activity, he observed countless Spider-People working alongside each other, collectively pushing back against an overwhelming tide of evil forces.

Relief washed over him momentarily, replaced almost instantly by renewed determination - finding Spider-Byte and fixing The Go-Home-Machine was now mission critical.

~~~~~~~~~~

Suspended midair via tendrils looped around his neck, Hobgoblin gasped for breath while desperately thrashing around in random directions. His struggles proved futile against your iron grip; eyes bulging in terror as he looked at your calm expression.

You waved a photograph casually under his nose, tapping at the figure of Miguel. Two other figures were captured in the image, but they had been scratched out with sharpie in an erratic way.

"Have you seen him pass by?" You asked sweetly, casually flicking your wrist in a manner that tightened the hold slightly – eliciting a panicked yelp from the trapped villain.

With subtle adjustments to your grip, you allowed enough leeway for Hobgoblin to speak freely without fear of suffocation taking over completely.

His voice trembled as he stammered out his denial. "No, I swear! Never seen him!" He insisted, frantically shaking his head to emphasize sincerity.

You dismissed Hobgoblin's protests with a simple hum, signaling your skepticism but accepting his statement nonetheless.

You released Hobgoblin abruptly, your tendrils flinging him through the air until he collided with a nearby wall with bone-crunching force. Dust clouds rose as he slumped to the ground lifelessly.

Your attention shifted towards another hostage suspended upside down by your tendrils - a Western-style cowboy hat obscuring most of his face save for a pair of terrified eyes peering back at you warily through his red bandana.

"¿Y tú, arañanita?" you queried gently, pulling him closer while pressing the photograph up against his masked face for emphasis.

"Have you seen him?"

Unease etched across his features as he examined the snapshot showing Miguel's likeness within its borders. Despite attempts to hide his recognition behind a facade of stoicism, the slight twitch of his eyebrow revealed the truth.

He knows

"I don't even know who he is," he lied smoothly, maintaining composure despite the racing rhythm drumming through his body like wildfire.

Yet as his gaze met yours, fear gripped him fully as he saw a knowing look reflected in your irises and a faint smile gracing your lips.

You know

"We're in a hurry, so we'll make this quick," you murmured soothingly.

With those final words uttered, two thick tendrils snaked their way around his skull, muffling any protest that lingered on his tongue thereafter.

Within moments, the helpless cowboy found himself engulfed in complete darkness due to your suffocating grasp covering his face entirely.

His muffled cries grew louder but ultimately faded into the air of the isolated area.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Batfam/Batboys with a Yandere S/O

[This is something I wanted to write personally and decided to share with all of ya'll. Please remember this is fiction, since it has come to my attention that it needs to be stated. I do not condone this behavior, I just enjoy writing it. Thank you, enjoy.]

-

Batman/Bruce Wayne:

Yan S/O is devoted to him, would literally kill anyone just to make him happy.

Even if Bruce knows that your love for him isn't healthy, he doesn't let you go. He honestly finds comfort in your love, it's tight like collar on the both of you. Yet, he can't help himself but let your chains keep him together.

You love him to the point of no return. Willing to forsake the world, morals, everything. Even Talia can't do that. You want to hold him and keep him safe in your sickingly-sweet embrace.

Bruce has a case of savior complex with you, thinking he can change you. Where your desires to coat Gotham in red aren't necessary for him to love you.

But to you, it matters that you try to kill anyone in your way to Bruce's heart, or maybe just managing to keep them at arms-length.

Those finky, so-called, "villians" are apart of your anger. They CRAVE Batmans attention, which should only be for YOU.

Bruce and Batman do their best to keep you from killing villians. Most times failing and trying to cover it up for your sake and his reputation.

I could see Yan S/O just straight up telling Bruce that they are gonna raise his childern..

Which is kinda true, since they managed to get Alfred's approval. 《No clue how...》

Anyway, Yan S/O is around for all of the Batfam. Being the kindest and sweetest parental figure ever. Often threatening and hurting villians when they try to get in the way of family outings or straight up killing them under the guise of "self-defense."

You teach your way of "love" to Dick and then so on and so fourth. Causing a horrible cycle and generation of yandere Batfam. It's kinda funny.

"Just what exactly are you teaching him (Y/N)?" Bruce asked you, his tone accusing as he watched you clean up blood off the floor of the parlor room.

Jason sat on a small armchair, a notepad in hand as he re-reads over his notes. 

Dick strolls up beside the older Wayne, watching the scene. 

"Oh! I remember when you taught me that trick, gotta remember this little-wing!"

Richard [Dick] Grayson:

This man has been emotionally starved, having been raised by Bruce. 

Dick has been in many romantic relationships, but they mostly fall flat and him and his romantic partners become just friends. Which is fine, but he still yearns for a romantic connection.

Or honestly a positive connection that has someone caring for him instead. Yes he's a good brother and son, but Bruce and his brothers mostly depend on him as the "happy-go-luck Dick Grayson".

Not the moody and depressed part of him.

Yet he meets Yan S/O, who is pretty much his personal everything. Cheerleader, bestie, (beside Wally), cuddle buddy, ect.

In your eyes, he could do no nothing wrong. You hold no high standard as how he should be seen.

He doesn't need to be the "Nightwing of Bludhaven" nor the "sweet and handsome Grayson".

He is YOURS, and you are his.

"Hey~ Welcome back," you whisper kindly. Aiding him inside the apartment. More-so dragging him in with strength he didn't know you possess.

Dick smiles at you, his eyes tired and body woozy from working late hours. 

-

Jason Todd:

Jason never really grew up in a loving home, when he did however, it was taken away from him very early on.

So when any once of love he gets from Yan S/O, he tries to push it away. Thinking he'll loose it, somehow.

Yet if Yan S/O proves their devotion, Jason will accept their advances.

He doesn't see you as a total threat to himself, to other's though, that's a different story..

You listen to him, wanting to know every bits and fucked-up pieces of him.

You don't see him as some type of puzzle to finish, you just want to know him. To love him.

Holding his hands in your own, you place them on your forehead. Breathing out a content sigh, tracing his fingers gently. As if he was made out of porcelain and not a monster he saw himself as.

Tim Drake [Wayne]:

Tim is concerned about Yan S/O affections, finding them perfect. Too perfect.

He's afraid to love them, because Yan S/O is all he could imagine as a perfect lover for him.

Kind, attentive, uncaring of his coffee addiction.

Someone who'll listen to him need out about ANYTHING.

It could be the stupid-est thing ever, yet you'll stare him like a love stricken idiot.

Even when he talks about someone he likes, you'll still smile. With clear hurt in your eyes, yet never sabotage his dates or try to change his mind. Just listen with a open heart, hoping for the privilege to let you love him.

He honestly doesn't want to push it, knowing you'd have to have a limit.

But you never crack..

It drives him mad.

To the point where he surrenders himself to you.

There was no one who could be as "perfect" as you.

"Hey! Hey!" You squeak, feeling Tim's cold hands touch your cheeks. Squeezing them together to make a fish-face, leaning in to give you a small peck.

-

Damien Al Ghul/Wayne:

Straight up opposite of Tim.

Damien pushes your button's, wanting to see if you had the guts to kill for him.

Not believing that you were worthy enough for him.

He is a Al Ghul.

A Wayne.

Yan S/O thinks saying a heartful declaration of love will sway his heart. Not even a little.

You have to be persistent for Damiens attention, clingy but not to the point of becoming a annoyance and a bother. 

Hell, maybe even uncaring. Giving up on the chase, which pisses Damien off.

Weren't you the one that wanted to be with him!?

Yan S/O acts like loving him was a phase. Which upsets him even more, he acts like it's not bothering him.

He starts missing your presence, whether if you were happy or timid around him.

"You already stuck around this long, might as well reward your efforts." Damien scowls, opening his hand out for you to take. A big smile breaks onto your face, which makes Damien freeze.

You won.

-

[Hope you enjoyed! Everythings appreciated!]

[klausysworld]

Love…

Love is a dangerous game.

Love is a fickle thing.

Love is unpredictable.

Love is merciless.

Love can be both feared and desired.

Love can make a woman do such awful things.

Love can drive a woman mad.

It drove me mad. It made me do awful things. It made people scared and it made people excited. It made me merciless, unpredictable and dangerous but my love was never fickle and it never will be.

Not when it came down to Niklaus Mikaelson.

______________________________________________________________

It started off way before he arrived in town.

I grew up in Mystic Falls, one of the only witches in town alongside the Bennett family. When I was little, Sheila Bennet-Grams would always offer to babysit me from my mother. When I would play there with Bonnie my emotions would always get the better of me, objects would begin to float or catch fire. Grams would always pick me up and calm me down while telling me how powerful I would become.

She never mentioned magic to Bonnie, and I promised not to either even though we were so close. However my magic was something I had always been aware of and Grams said that finding control over it would be better than pretending it didn't exist.

Once I got a little older, she began to teach me things on other supernaturals. Starting with the Lockwood heritage and the basics of werewolves and then we went deeper, to Eenadu and how/why she created the species. Then a while later it was vampires. The basics first again and then the Originals, and Esther.

That was when I first heard of him; Klaus.

Grams spoke his name with such distaste but it stirred something inside me. She only told me the bast things, put a sinister spin on everything about them. So I had to do some digging myself.

He was just so damaged.

He was so broken, but so fixable.

He was just so loveable.

I knew he needed the doppelgänger so I convinced Bonnie that we should befriend Elena.

I knew he needed a werewolf so i befriended Matt through Elena which lead to befriending Tyler.

I knew he needed a vampire too but I didn't need to worry about that. I was certain that Katerina Petrova, Katherine Pierce, would pay the town a visit and death would follow her like the plague. She would either be my vampire or make me a vampire that I could give to Klaus.

And she did, just as predicted. So when I was sure that she had done everything for me: triggered Tylers 'curse', turned Caroline and collected the moonstone, I made my move in form of a letter.

It had taken a damn long time to find him. He moves, a lot. However, I too had made contacts over the last few years with other witches across the states and was able to pinpoint him.

And reach out.

..............................................................................................................................

Dear Niklaus Mikaelson,

We have yet to meet though I am certain that when we do you will be pleased. Come to where it all began for I have an opportunity for you to seize.

..........................................................................

It was simple but still cryptic enough to grab his attention. I sent it to him with my magic and patiently waited.

And planned.

Klaus would definitely want to create more hybrids. Which meant some sort of trip as soon as the ritual was over and his wolf was free. I also knew that he and Stefan were friends in the 1920s, courtesy of Gloria who was a witch I had met and remained in contact with who was also in communication with Klaus and helped me find the man.

So I was betting that he would find a way to take Stefan with him to find his hybrids and bring the ripper out of him, which would not be difficult. I remember when he had gone a little mad for human blood earlier in the year. It wouldn't take a lot to push him back over that line.

Now was a nervous when Katherine went missing which meant klaus was in town? Yes. But I was much more excited.

I could feel myself literally buzzing when I stepped into the Salvatore manor house, I could feel the magic rolling off of Alaric! I sat between him and Damon and I could feel my skin burning. Damon kept putting his hand on my knee to stop my legs bouncing, asked if I was on drugs a couple times too but didn't suspect too much. I hadn't revealed to everyone the amount I knew. Though Elijah knew that I was much more than I let on but I kinda wanted him to know.

Of course everyone knew I was a witch but they assumed I was an amateur, Bonnie knew I was better than I made out to be but still didn't know the extents of what I was now capable of. When you've been practicing magic since you were a small child your power ages with you, I knew that I'd only grow stronger. And so far I have.

I just hoped that he couldn't feel my magic as well as I could feel his. That was a silly thought. I knew that he couldn't, I had a spell to mask it.

Time went fast, one second I was sat next to him and the next he was walking out the door and Damon was asking what was wrong with me today. I got out of it and went home to my planning board.

I wondered how long it would take for him to know that it was I who sent him the letter. I wondered how he would react. I also wondered how he would be if I sent him another.

..............................................................................................................................

Dear Niklaus Mikaelson,

I see that you have arrived though not as I may have expected, Either way I hope you appreciate the ingredients that I have collected.

..............................................................................................................................

I sent it via my magic again, I knew that it would lay waiting for him when he returned from the decade dance. It meant I was far too excited the entire time. Though I did my best to keep my mouth shut around Alaric Klaus himself.

Even when he revealed his true identity I had to bite back my smile, instead I allowed him to pin me, toss me and harm me until he though he'd won. I couldn't reveal my powers, the truth behind my innocent mask. I needed him to think I was weak but still interesting enough.

Bonnie ended up 'sacrificing' herself. To be completely honest it made me mad. Of all the people he could have hurt he had to choose her. I wouldn't have cared if it was any one else but Bonnie was the only true friend I had made, she wasn't here for me to use or bargain with. I liked her and felt my skin burn with rage.

So I made a little spell to cause Klaus an extensive amount of pain .

I got over it of course but I needed him to understand my feelings. It's the only way we could work.

I was pissed off that he hadn't used my chosen ingredients. Damon saved Tyler and Caroline and Bonnie was saving Elena.

Still, I watched his ritual anyway from a distance, my eyes lighting up as I watched his bones snap and his wolf rush to the front of his mind. Elijah's eyes locked on mine for a split second, a slight nod from us both before he took his brother to a place in the woods.

After that I had to babysit Damon while he whined and shook in pain. When his fevers got too bad I would place a cooling spell over his body and transfer some of his pain to myself. Despite not being Damons biggest fan, he was the one I got along most with out of the little group that had formed. He had a sense of humour and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Damon was no liar like most of the others and I admired that. Still, I did not trust him exactly but I didn't mind his company.

Eventually Katerina arrived, she did not look eager to see me however she delivered the cure as expected and revealed what I had assumed. Klaus had taken Stefan.

Unfortunately for Klaus, since finding him the first time, I was able to play a tracking spell on his soul. If I closed my eyes and chanted the right words I was able to find exactly where he was in the moment I did so. Which meant he received more letters.

They were always short and suggestive, never revealing quite how much I knew but just hinting at it. I knew it would annoy him, he would see it as child’s play but that's what made it all so amusing when I would whisper my spells and watch his jaw clench as he attempted to tear up the paper only for it to magically bind back together in mockery of his frustration.

It was when he arrived in Chicago that Gloria had me on the phone.

"I warn you child, he's been asking me to find out who's sending the notes. I wouldn't ever tell on you dear but you know how he becomes. Don't play with fire unless you plan to get burnt" she told me, her tone worried

"Thank you Gloria but you've always known I enjoy the burn. Even if he knows, I can contain him. I've been preparing." I murmur, as my fingers trace over the sketch of the cage I plan to create for him should it ever be necessary.

"Do be careful" she whispered, "They don't call him a beast for fun"

"I know" I hum "It's going to be wonderful" I stated, my mind picturng those golden eyes of his.

Gloria had to hang up when she heard Rebekah's voice nearing but messaged me an update later that day. Unfortunately I felt as her life was taken, by Katerina of all people though I couldn't be too surprised. Her obsession with Stefan never failed to shine through.

Not that I could judge.

Plus it worked in my favour. Klaus came back home.

I got to see him and senior prank night, he even grabbed my wrist. I asked if he just wanted to hold my hand which made him smirk and made my lower stomach implode.

He did in fact hold my hand.

Sure it was while he dragged me down a corridor but he held it all the same.

Then he started killing people and turned Tyler which made me happy. At least my werewolf was useful after all.

Eventually I got back home and went to bed, with Klaus still on my mind of course.

Things got much more interesting from then onward. Klaus was in town much more and always getting in everyones business. I both enjoyed it and loathed it.

It was lovely because it meant I got to talk to him, and because I knew so much about him already I was able to keep him entertained and talkative. Especially when it came to art. I had to research so many artists so that I could engage him in conversation for long periods of time. I convinced the others that it was to distract him while they did their stupid little plans but it was really just for me.

I still sent my letters but I was confident that he didn't know it was me. Somehow I had made him believe that I was brand knew to magic and practically hopeless which he apparently found 'cute'. Whether he meant it or not it still made me blush.

After a few months I had the cage made. It was doused in magic to ensure he couldn't ever escape and I had put in a bookshelf with books I knew he would enjoy as well as a sketch pad and an array of crayons. Pencils were a little risky as they had a point but I put in some blunt charcoal. I had vervain growing beside the cage and wolvebane on my bedroom windowsill. The cage was set up in my basement.

My mother never went down there, she still thinks it's all horiible down their. She also doesn't really practise magic anymore so she's basically a human and oblivious to my supernatural involvment.

Thanks to her unawareness I was able to go about things without even being that discreet. Even if she had picked up on it, she made no effort to intervene.

So I continued to indulge in my obsession.

It was mostly harmless, though my letters progressively became love letters. It was entertaining to watch his brows rise as he read the suggestive words, often now his fingers would trace over the lipstick print I had left in the bottom right corner. Occasionally I would wear the same shade around him, just to test my limits. Sometimes I would spray the paper with my perfume before sending it too.

Soon I began sending other things too, like a rose alongside the letter or a sugary beignet that I had made myself. Sometimes they would contain propofol or something similar. This, with a high enough dosage, would knock even the original hybrid out long enough for me to go on over. I would often sit down beside him on his bed, usually my fingers would stroke through his sweet curls and I would press a kiss to his cheek. Almost always leaving the same mark as I did on those letters and taking pride in the confusion that painted his gorgeous face when he would see it in the morning and wash off my mark.

There were a couple close calls where I had assumed him to be passed out only to find him waiting in his bed, then I would have to be more forceful with putting him to sleep. Often magic was involved and I would lay with him, stroking the area I had struck him with my power to soothe the sting away.

Since then I had noticed his glances over his shoulders as he walked and the way his fingers would nervously tap against his scotch glass. I couldn't deny the pleasant feeling that buzzed through me at the knowledge that I made him nervous, borderline afraid. He even went so far as to have one of his hybrids stand guard outside of his room when he slept. So I had to climb up through his window. It was a hassle really but it got easier each time I did so.

I found myself in his room pretty much every single night. Something about how he was when he slept was so peaceful and innocent that I couldn't help but crave it. It soothed something within me.

What was even better than watching him while he slept?

Finding a painting in his art room...of me!

It was beautifully done and looked just like a photo. If i hadn't touched it to feel the layers of paint then I wouldn't have known he created it. A true, genuine smile graced my lips when I held it and I couldn't help but go through all his sketch pads to find more.

My next love letter hinted toward the art but I think that he was beginning to over think the notes at this point. They were driving him a little mad.

I considered leaving him alone for a little while but then he started getting into trouble. Too much trouble. The kind that got him hurt and stabbed by white oak. The kind that had him ready to leave Mystic Falls.

So I had to start eliminating threats toward him.

I went as far as hospitalising Elena, making it look like natural causes so that the others would have to leave Klaus alone for a while.

I befriended Rebekah, started learning things about Klaus's childhood, the little things that meant so much to him. So I went home and hand carved him a wooden wolf and left it on top my letter.

Slowly, I think he began to have suspicions. Sometimes I catch him watching me with a very calculative look in his eye though he would break into a nervous smile and look away, often walking out the room entirely. I didn't like that.

He tried to distance himself but I wouldn't let him. I thought it was clear that he was mine by now. If he had figured it out then he should be happy and relaxed knowing that it's me, not tense and worried. What did he think I would do, really?

Didn't matter. Time went on.

Thanksgiving came and went, Christmas and then New Year. I always sent and received a present. The Mikaelsons actually threw a Christmas ball which I of course attended and I was able to bag multiiple dances with Klaus. I also danced with Elijah, he directly asked me if I was the one messing with his brothers head, we were whispering and I made a little spell so Klaus couldn't eavesdrop. I confirmed it without actually admitting it and made some little threats for if he should try to stop anything, after I left for home.

I continued with my visits, my growing friendships and my gifts. And then valentines day came around.

I had been contemplating whether I treat it any differently to every other day. I never had before however this time I had somebody to think of, somebody I loved.

So when I woke up, I decided that perhaps I'd at least go see Klaus today.

What I had not expected was a large bouquet of roses, bunched into the shape of a heart set on my dining room table with a typed note attached.

..............................................................................................................................

Dearest Y/N, I don't usually engage in human holidays however you've recently changed my perspective. I hope you don't think I've been oblivious to your advances, I'll admit they've been affective. Love Niklaus

..............................................................................................................................

The note made me smile. The rhyming scheme matched all my letters and this was all the confirmation I needed that he had accepted my feelings.

So I got dressed into a dress, the same deep red as the flowers he had gifted me with the eyeshadow and lipstick to match. I drove myself to his home and this time knocked on the door.

Klaus must have been waiting for he opened it as soon as my knuckles hit the wood and he was dressed to perfection. His blood red tie matched my dress as though he just knew and his hand held out for mine without a word being said. I nodded to him and held his hand, enjoying the way it caused my magic to ignite inside me.

I was lead inside to the area which was usually primarily empty and used for parties and events however it was down littered with rose petals. Fairy lights and candles lit the room and a little square table rest in the centre of the room covered by a white table cloth with two golden plates hidden by gold plate covers sat waiting to be revealed.

"Oh wow" I whispered quietly. This was most definitely not something I had thought of occurring. I heard Klaus clear his throat a little as he hesitantly slipped his hand round my waist causing my tummy to flutter pleasantly before he kept leading me over to the table. He proceeded to pull out my hair, waiting for me to sit and then carefully pushing me closer to the table before sitting opposite me.

"I do hope you'll enjoy the food though if you don't I can be sure to get you something else-" His voice began to speed up, I could see his nerves playing.

"That won't be necessary, I'll have what I'm given and I'll enjoy it" I state simply with a reassuring smile. He returned it and nodded quietly to himself as he lifted the cover off of his play and I did the same. Underneath was a beautifully cooked slice of beef wellington with potatoes and a few vegetables alongside and a sauce to go with.

"I was going to do starters as well but I didn't want you too be too full as I have more for us to eat later" he explained quietly.

"Later?" I question with the slight tilt of my head and he smiled.

"We have a lot to talk about" He answered and I hummed, lifting the wine glass to my lips and allowing the rich taste to please my tongue. I licked my lips clean, watching as his eyes followed my tongues movements as he sat a little straighter. "However," he began, clearing his throat again making a slither of amusement make its way to my face. "For the moment, I just want to have a valentines dinner with you, my questions will wait for after." He decided and I nod, happy with his arrangement.

"Very well" I agreed as I cut into my steak and pastry and popped a piece into my mouth, moaning at the flavour and locking my eyes onto his. His adams apple bobbed and his eyes darted to his plate making me grin.

Dinner was mostly small talk, a few flirty comments through desert before he took our empty plates out to the kitchen. I got up from my seat to follow him but he shook his head and asked that I stay while he cleaned. I agreed without resistance, if he wanted to do the dishes then I wouldn't object.

He was back in just a minute and holding his hand out for me to take again, which I did. Then I was brought upstairs which made me raise a brow, "Already huh?" I ask teasingly.

He glanced over his shoulder at me with a knowing look "Don't act like you don't spend nearly every night in my room" he replied making my eyes roll playfully.

He pulled me into his room and closed the door behind me. On the bed lay every single letter I had written him, I clicked my tongue as I looked over the generous pile and slowly glanced up at his face. His arms were folded over his chest and he had that look in his eyes that just told be to begin.

I smiled up at him and let out a little laugh "Right..." I muttered, "Well..., okay, can we sit for this?" I asked and he hummed, gesturing two chairs that we went to.

And then I started talking. A lot.

I went from the start, Grams. There was no point lying to the man, so I just laid it all out bare for him. From the first time I heard his name to the first time I was able to see his face to the first time we actually met, to now. It took hours of explaining and answering questions for silence to actually come around.

His expressions changed throughout the discussion, sometimes he looked a little confused, sometimes he even looked a little afraid but for the most part he just looked intrigued. When I was done and his questions stopped flowing, he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

"You're crazy" He whispered and I felt my demeanour change, just as I went to snap his eyes went back to mine and a wide smile spread across his face. "You're so insane, I love it" he murmured before my face was in his hands and his lips were on mine.

I'll admit it took me by surprise so it took me a minute to react. Of course I kissed him back, would have been really dumb not to at this point.

His hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, every single nerve I owned stood on edge for him and my magic began to flow a little too fast than I was used to. Klaus pulled away, a chuckle leaving his lips making my eyes, which I didn't remember closing, open.

"You've set the curtains on fire sweetheart" he mumbled, stroking a few strands of hair behind my ear as I took a breathe and silently mended the curtains with my mind. A kiss was placed behind my ear and I breathed in deeply. "I can't believe you let me think you couldn't even light a candle when I met you" he muttered and he smiled.

"You let everyone think you were Alaric, so..." I trailed but he tutted.

"Ah, ah. Everyone except for you as it turns out so we are in no way even. You have been tormenting me, lying to me, watching me sleep..." he smirked and I rolled my eyes, "borderline assaulting me!" he exasperated and I dropped my head back with a sigh. His lips pressed to my neck in response and I hummed with a clenched jaw. "You do not like to be teased" he stated and my eyes flicked to him "I'm not mad" he told me but I didn't think he was anyway "your methods for my...affections have been questionable-"

"Well-" I interjected but he shook his head and kissed my lips again which was a seemingly affective way to keep me quiet but I liked it.

"But" he cut in "It has been incredibly sexy to watch you pull an unbelievable amount of power moves under everyone's noses, including my own. I look forward to seeing how many more moves you have" he whispered, his voice becoming progressively lower.

My gaze fixed on him, my eyes narrowed a little. Was he saying what he wanted to say or what I wanted to hear?

His hands slid down my sides to the backs of my thighs before he lifted me onto his lap, having me straddle him in his chair and causing my dress to ride up. My hands held onto his upper arms lightly, he looked back at me with the same calculative look I'm sure I was wearing. His head tilted to the side making my lips twitch, he looked cute like a confused pet.

"I don't take well to being played with" I tell him and he frowned.

"I'm not playing" he replied, his hand caressing my thigh in a way that made an unfamiliar warmth spread through me and I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. For some reason I had mapped out a plan for every scenario except for one where he actually showed the interest I wanted from him. "I wouldn't toy with you Y/n. Should I have wanted to harm you I would have just done so"

"You don't think I'm a threat?" I question and he furrowed his brows

"Do you want me to see you as a threat?" He asked confused and I hesitated, did I?

"Maybe?" I whispered, unsure and he huffed softly.

"You have been dancing around me for almost a year now, don’t you think it’s time we both give in?” He murmured and I stared at him. Slowly his hands brushed higher up my thighs and he pulled me closer on his lap making my heart pound. “Will you let yourself give in to me?” He asked as his fingertips grazed the thin material of my panties. “No more stalking or knocking me out…just be with me, you can sleep beside me…with me and I’ll give you everything you could ever want”

I hummed quietly and clenched my jaw as I felt and heard the elastic in my panties snap. His hand pulled the fabric away from my body and tucked them into his pocket as his eyes locked on mine. I shifted a little on his lap, my thigh clenching around him as I felt my pussy flutter against the erection that was pushing against his suit trousers.

“You have no idea how hard it was to figure out who you were” he muttered as he pushed my hips back and forth in a slow motion. I could feel my skin heating up as my sensitive flesh rubbed over his pants. “You drove me mad” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear making a warm shiver slide down my spine.

A breathy moan fell from my lips as I felt his hips grind up against my bare pussy. “Do you remember that letter you wrote, you were practically begging me to fuck you” he reminded making my eyes shut, my lips parting as I moved my hips with his to receive the perfect amount of friction against my clit. “Do you know how many faceless dreams I’ve had of you? I had to guess what your pretty moans would sound like, how tight your cunt was, I need to see if my imagination was accurate” He practically purred against my neck.

I kept grinding myself on his crotch, panting softly to try catch my breath and my thoughts and his hands cupped my ass firmly. They brushed across the tops of my thighs before a finger was rubbing my clit making my hips thrust up and a moan to escape me.

My hands curled into his jacket, I always had the control in situations. I needed the power and the control yet I couldn’t even think about taking it right now. I just needed to chase that feeling.

I couldn’t help the choked sound that left me when a finger plunged its way inside of me. At this point my hips were rutting against his hand, my pussy surely dripping onto his pants but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Happy Valentine’s Day sweetheart” his voice cooed against my ear and I moaned aloud. Kisses burned into the top of my neck and base of my jaw, “I’m gonna fuck you against all of your little love letters” he mumbled and I cried out his name weakly.

Another finger stretched me open with my clit was rubbed ferociously making my hips stutter and thighs tremble with need.

His mouth captured mine as I felt my resistance snap. My body shook and my head felt light as my lips pushed against his with force. After he pulled back and let me catch my breath he lifted me up and dropped me onto his bed amongst all the notes I’d left him in the past.

His body knelt between my legs and his face hovered over mine as he brushed his nose against mine.

I think it was that moment that I knew:

Love would destroy us both.

[merbear25]

Playing with fire (Yandere! Caesar x Yandere! fem!reader)

So many had been chased away by the intensity of your adoration, leaving you broken-hearted time and time again. When you started your new semester, you found yourself enchanted by the passion that radiated off the professor. With such charm pulling you in, your old obsessive habits resurfaced, only this time your love interest appeared to be more…deranged than the others.

a/n: Caesar gives off yandere vibes, and it’s one of many things I find fascinating about him. I personally envision the reader getting her Master’s or PhD, but no age is mentioned.

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Yandere themes (stalking, possessiveness, obsessiveness), University AU, some angst, rough sex, vaginal penetration, facial.

Mending your heart took a lot out of you; the mental exhaustion of having to put together the scattered pieces each time someone shattered it was taking its toll. With so many practically fleeing from your love, you regrettably tried to fix yourself, thinking that if you were more normal, you’d finally have your love reciprocated. Despite taking such actions for what everyone labeled as self-improvement, it felt as if you were losing a part of yourself. Would you really have to change how you loved in order to be loved?

Sitting in the lecture hall, you tapped your pen against your notebook waiting for the beginning of the semester to officially start. With the clock ticking into position, the professor made his grand entrance right on time. While the others continued talking amongst themselves, your eyes were fixated on him. The long, wild hair, his intense golden eyes and the way he held himself with such confidence, all of which were a recipe to destroy the progress you’d been making.

A familiar feeling burned inside you the longer the class went on. His charismatic deliveries on each piece of information coupled with the passion he had for his subject were sedatives, numbing you to the dangers you were surely going to be thrown into.

Upon dismissal, the others were gathering their belongings, filing out of the lecture hall, yet you remained in your seat. Infatuation left you blind and deaf to what was happening around you. Only when his gaze fell on you and a smirk stretched his purple lips was your trance broken. Flustered and embarrassed about getting caught leering at him, you fumbled with your things and left as quickly as possible—the heat of your blush searing your cheeks. His eyes followed you all the way out those doors and a faint chuckle chased after you.

As the semester progressed, your desires for him had only escalated: keeping track of where he went, his personal habits, who he spoke to, how often he spoke to them, how long he kept people in office. Fighting against your paranoia was a losing battle. You fretted that these other students and colleagues of his were somehow more favored than you, despite you being at the top of the class—even having you forget about the small bits of praise he gave you all while flashing you that bewitching smile of his.

Why did so many have to talk to him? Because he was the head of his department. Okay, but why did he have to keep them in his office for so long? Your mind scattered to all of the possibilities, each one more soul-crushing than the last. Peering around the corner, your malice burrowed into whoever came out of that room. Anticipating him to pivot, your old habit to snake away behind your barrier took over.

Working on assignments was a fine way of passing the time. You knew he parked on the other side of the building, so it was easy to relax in this sense of security you’d cushioned yourself with. However, with comfort comes slip ups.

Satisfied with what you’d done for your class with him, you closed your notebook. “Please tell me you plan on revising those.” That same alluring voice from just moments ago was now in your ear.

Being caught off guard, you were at a loss for words. All you managed was to squeak out an ‘of course’.

Placing his hand on the backrest of the bench, he leaned down, forcing your heart to pound furiously against your ribcage. “I have a fun idea. Would you like to come with me?”

Such a curious invitation left you hypnotized, having you nodding and obediently following him out to his car. Momentarily halting at the surprise that this involved leaving campus, he was ready with reassurance, “It’ll be worth it. I promise. Just get in.”

A slight twinge of uncertainty was easily overshadowed by your unchaste self-involvement with him. Pleased with how compliant you were only whetted his appetite for what he had planned.

Willingly following him over the threshold of his home, he was sure to lock the door as he projected his voice across the room to you, muffling any signal to panic.

Only half listening to him, you followed the line of photos he had hanging up on his walls. Each one showcasing his achievements, aiding your admiration in him.

“You know, you have a promising future in your field, too,” there was a sincerity to his compliment. When you turned to face him, you suddenly felt bites of bashfulness prickling your cheeks.

He sighed with a hint of affection. “Such a winsome look for one who’s hiding some dirty secrets.”

“What do you mean?” Your faltering tone failed to convince him of your innocence.

Humming in amusement of having successfully called you out on your suspicious character, he used it as a segue to the main course, “You know exactly what I mean.”

His longing became more persistent, itching for him to push forward. “Have you any idea why I brought you here? You would’ve been too loud. I can see it on your face—you’re a screamer.”

Seduction dripped with each word, glazing you with just the right amount for consumption. Your look batted between his eyes and lips while he closed the gap between you. You nodded and enticed him. “Let’s gorge ourselves then, shall we?”

Feeling like his intensity was being met, you were pulled into his arms and forceful lips crashed into yours, desperation to satiate this yearning pouring out of them.

Getting caught in his whirlwind of passion, you wanted to ground yourself for a moment, “W-wait.” You gasped.

Frowning at your sign of resistance, he reminded you of your concerning behavior towards him, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? What you’ve been after?”

Worrying you’d miss your chance at finally having a partner who’d relish in your intensity, you admitted to this being something that before you’d only dreamed of.

“Then don’t you dare take it away from me,” his words sounded more like a threat but worked wonders on your deluded idea of romance.

Your place in this hyper-sexualized indulgence was made crystal clear: you were to be used as he pleased. Being tossed around by someone who was swelling with as much desire for you as you had for them was a godsend. It led you to believe you would never again have to hide such a disturbing love from him.

Slapping yourself up and down on his now utterly soaked length, your moans filled the room. He ran his hand up your enticing neck, settling it at the back of your head. He huffed from the constant berating on his senses, “It seems that your siren calls have entangled me.”

With a sly grin, he tugged on your hair, forcing your head back and exposing your neck to his hungry fixation. Your breasts frantically keeping the pace of his thrusts was keeping him mesmerized. Licking and suckling on your tender flesh, your body writhed under his touch, which earned you a guttural groan.

Witnessing tears swell up in your beautiful eyes only provoked his brutality. His ego was being inflated with each shriek and tremble he forced out of you, while you both stood at the cliffs of ecstasy ready to take the plunge into the rough waters below. Letting those waves wash over you, he was close behind.

Tossing you on your back, he roughly grabbed your tear stained face and he commanded, “Open that pretty mouth.” 

Such alluring doe eyes fluttering their long lashes at him brought out his carnal need to mark you as his. With his hand gripping your delicate neck, he grunted upon releasing his own pent-up craving for you, coating you in the sin he’d kept hidden all semester.

His obsession for you dripped down the sides of your face, piquing your want for more from this relationship. As his eyes scanned the work he’d done to you, a satisfied expression painted itself on him. Without having to say anything, there was a mutual understanding that neither of you were going to back down.

[writr4luvrs]

Anime Women/Femme x Yandere!Reader

tw: yandere!reader, stalking, invasion of privacy, toxic relationship, toxic work relationship, not proofread

featured: csm, aot, jjk girlies

She loves giving you affection, she adores seeing the light in your eyes shoot up when she showered you in attention, holding your head in her palms, pulling you closer as she strokes your cheeks, or poking and pinching those cute plushy parts on your body. Telling you how pretty you look today, gently wrapping her arm around your wasit, giving you soft pecks up to your ear.

You think you were so sneaky spying and eavesdropping on her conversations or downtime, nabbing her personals, invading her life under the radar. Your lucky she wanted something so cute and pretty to play around with and tease and tell what to do unconditionally. And you were so, so warm.

She'll let you think you won her over with cute flirts, lovey dove dates, and territorial staring when one of her co-workers or long term friends would get to close, ...for now.

Makima, Shōko, Hange, Mikasa, Historia whoever your other lesbian faves

[gojoulen03]

SAGAU Imposter AU but the Imposter (real creator) is Yan!Reader's younger sibling who is just the embodiment of cuteness, innocence and kind- and like Yan!Reader is that very overprotective older sibling and when their younger sibling hunted down - Yan!Reader will for sure protect their younger sibling and even going as far as killing the real Imposter with their own hands.

And LIKE Yan!Reader is like giving out Yuno Gasai sorta vibes in my head but without the romance part lol.

[xodarling]

My little Bronya. - xodarling

includes: NON-CON, kidnapping, yandere!reader, obsession, stalking, g!p reader, sub!bronya, knife play, cocolia’s alive and well, masturbation, lowercase writing, riding, infantilization kinda, breeding kink, throat fucking, praise, impregnation, virgin!bronya

a/n: bobby’s back 👹 (and worse than b4 sorry if it feels rushed)

“ah.. ah..”

loud squelching sounds bounce off the walls of this dark and dusty basement, there are cobwebs on every corner of the room and the air in the room is heavy, making it feel like you were suffocating every time you inhaled.

those wet, sticky sounds get faster and faster, with each squelch another loud pant vibrates throughout the room. the sound of chair legs scraping the concrete ground are deafening along with the a very specific sound.

click!

small clicking sounds emanating through the room, then it stops and is replaced by a loud groan and even faster squelching.

“bronya.. bronya..”

a shaky voice repeats like a prayer, long shaky groans fill up the emptiness of the room. the dark room being lit up slightly by the brightness of a camera.

the camera roll gives the dark, dusty, and heavy basement some brightness. the basement was mostly empty except for a cork board on one side of the room, all the pictures are of the same person, bronya. the camera isn’t any different, the photos saved in the camera are all bronya.

“fuck!”

the sounds of a loud and desperate yelp, the chair pushed back a little and a loud slam of the wooden table all echo throughout the room.

the camera screen gets dirtied by the thick spurts of cum, the sounds of somebody bucking their hips against the wooden table echos throughout the basement, the sounds of grunts and groans get replaced by pants and sighs.

the sound of a tissue being pulled out the tissue box echo again, some tired pants also vibrate through the dusty walls. soon enough, you gain your senses, looking down at your a softening dick and then at the photo the camera’s showing.

a photo of bronya showering that you somehow managed to get. your dick hardens as you stare at the photo before you let out a groan and then a sigh. you are absolutely delusional and insane, your obsession with the future supreme guardian is getting out of hand.. and jacking off is no longer enough.

it was hard to find bronya alone and vulnerable, but you memorized the entirety of bronya’s home at this point, so sneaking in as she slept wasn’t too hard. you carried her like she was made of porcelain, even leaving soft kisses on her cheeks to indulge in your desires just a small amount.

sneaking past several silvermane guards and random civilians, you made it to your average sized home and went down into the dingy basement; all with bronya in your arms. you made sure to be gentle as you tied her to the chair, not wanting to hurt her yet but making sure it’s tight enough so she can’t get out.

you bring in another chair and shift it to be right in front of bronya, the wooden legs scraping against the concrete. shimmying your sweats down so your dick gets freed from the fabric. all you have to do is wait for her to wake up, best thing to do is sit there and jack off.

her eyelids flutter as her head hangs low, bronya realizes she’s not back home, she’s sitting, tied up, in some dusty gray room. bronya lifts up her head and her eyes widen when she sees you, face all flushed and your dominant hand pumping your shaft.

“good, i was starting to get impatient.” you sit up, the chair pushing back from your action. bronya was about to question but you pulled her head back and placed your swollen tip on her pouty lips, “suck.” you said. bronya hesitated for a moment before starting to leave kitten licks at the head of your dick.

bronya’s a smart girl, as she licked your tip and started to engulf more of your inches, she had an idea to bite your shaft; fortunately, you already predicted she would try something smart like that. you pulled a knife from the pockets in your sweater and placed the blade on her throat.

it all happened so fast. the blade hitting bronya’s neck and you forcefully shoving your dick all the way inside her mouth, causing her to gag with tears brimming her eyes. “bite and i’ll slit your throat.” you say with the angriest tone you can muster, you weren’t actually mad at her.. you were just trying to scare her.

and it worked actually, bronya shut her eyes and just took your fucking of her throat like a good girl. you gripped onto her silver hair and started to quicken your pace, “my little bronya, my baby.”, you whisper as she gags on your shaft, drool dripping down your balls and onto her thighs.

you comb your fingers through her soft bangs, bucking your hips into her mouth. hot tears pile in bronya’s eyes as she keeps them shut to not take in what’s happening, visually, “such a tight throat.” you whisper, pulling your shaft out and lightly slapping her face with it. “what a good girl you are, my little bronya.”

her face scrunches up when you do that. to her, your smell is disgusting, absolutely dreadful. the blade of the knife cuts through each of the ropes that are keeping bronya sat, you pull her up by her arm and then replace her in the wooden seat. your hands find their home on her clothed ass, groping her from above her pajama pants.

“been wanting to do this for so long..” you murmur and lean into rub your nose against her rear. bronya’s body tenses up with disgust as your calloused fingers slip under her pants and pull them down, plain white underwear being exposed. your dominant hand moves to your shaft as you stroke yourself slowly and the other pulls her panties up, exposing more of her soft ass.

your hand snakes it’s way to covered cunt and rubs her slit up and down, even though bronya’s all tense and uncomfy, her panties are dampening with each rub. after a while, you slowly pull down her underwear and push the small of her back to expose her bare cunt to you, dripping and swollen, just like you imagined. you can barely conceal a groan when you see it.

bronya’s heart begins to race even more when you pull her to your lap, your cock resting against her wet slit. your non-dominant hand still holds the knife and you wrap your hands around her waist, kissing the skin below her ear and whispering sweet nothings to her. “my baby, bronya. a baby for my baby..”

bronya can’t even process your words before your tip is slowly pressing inside her, you let out a groan and bronya lets out a strained and stifled whimper. “so much tighter than I thought.” you whisper before moving your hips, your shaft going inch by inch into her walls, your pre-cum oozes out your tip and stains her insides.

bronya lets out winces and whimpers, her walls being stretched beyond their limit, you coo in response whispering sweet praises into her ear while kissing her neck. patience is your strongest virtue and the slow insertion going inch by inch wasn’t cutting, so you grab her hips harshly and forcefully push her down your cock, a sharp shrill leaving her throat.

just a little bit of blood leaves her cunt which makes you groan as it mixes with your pre, you throw the knife in your hand into the middle of the basement and dig your fingers into her hips, leaving her no time to get used to anything and immediately starts to pound away brutally.

“ah-! wait! stop t-this, at o-once!” she yelps out, her fingers dig into the armrests of the dingy, wooden chair, tears begin to brim her silver eyes, the pain and pleasure was overwhelming and unbearable. all you do is moan at her protests, your hips moving at an unreasonable pace.

bronya writhes around in your grasp, her head being thrown back and her nails digging scratching the armchairs, your hands grab the back of her knees and pull her legs up, bronya moans at the new angle of your thrusts. you let out growls and groans, the force of your pounding sending bronya’s upwards a little.

this cowgirl position was boring you. it was fun hearing her bronya whine in protest and squirm on your lap but you need more. you let out a scoff and then sit up from the chair, bronya lets out a confused whine and then a pained one when you reverse your positions, her sitting on the chair with her legs on your shoulders and you standing in front.

there’s no intermission or pause for her to get used to this new position before you return to your animalistic thrusts, with a newfound vigor. “oh, ffucckk..” you throw your head back and groan out with no limitations, her wet, warm walls and her cross-eyed expression send fire into your balls.

your head was clouded with lust and desire, your tip hitting that spongy spot inside her was addicting and your shaft was beginning to tighten, a sign of your impending orgasm. “yeah, gonna fill you up.” you said between chuckles and groans, “gonna fill my baby up, gonna make you all big and round for me..”

bronya shakes her head and lets out a whine. she feels used, like she’s nothing but a hole for you to fuck and breed. just the thought of going back to her mother, if you do let her go, with a round stomach filled with your child made her sob loudly. the pain from your brutal thrusts was intense and the sudden shock of waking up to this left the usual independent and strong bronya weak.

speaking of her mother, the silvermane guards probably noticed that the future supreme guardian was gone. cocolia without a doubt sent all of her men to search for her precious daughter, not knowing what’s happening to her. bronya begins to sob uncontrollably, which only turns you on more.

“keep cryin’ for me, baby, i’m close.” you murmur, biting your lip and watching those diamond tears fall down her elegant face. bronya’s covers her face as her sobs get more violent along with your thrusts, the sound of skin on skin smacking echoes through the basement. everything is just pushing you closer to the edge.

your fingers dig into hips, your eyebrows knitting together, you want this to last forever, it feels so good you don’t want it to end. unfortunately, it does and with one final thrust you let out a loud moan and throw your head back. “fuck, take it, take it all.” you growl, aggressively fucking yourself through your ecstasy.

the girlish and shrill yelp bronya let out when your sperm filled her up was something unheard of to any soul until you, the intense and violent feeling pushed bronya to an unwanted orgasm as well. her legs tremble on your shoulders and her hand fly from her face to the armrests of the chair.

it feels like forever until you stop moving and finally pull out. her body trembles like a leaf and meek whimpers and protests leave her mouth. your eyes trail from her red and teary face, to her heaving chest, to her exposed cunt, watching it drip with your cum made you hard again.

“so perfect.” you murmur, placing your hand on her stomach and rubbing it. “wha-..? stop..” she murmurs, trying to squirm but gives up quickly after seeing your once again hardening cock.

it’ll take a while for the silvermane guards to find you, they won’t suspect some introverted innocent lady to be the one to kidnap the heir of the supreme guardian. so in the mean time.. why not have some more fun?

“let’s hope that they find you soon, my little bronya.” you chuckle and slowly insert yourself back inside her tight cunt, her hands fly to your shoulders and she lets out a whine, feeling her stomach bulge out a little from all the cum and your dick.

all she can do is sob and pray someone hears this, but from what it looks like, it’ll take a while.

THIS IS SO BAD IM SORRRY

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Being a yandere and having Satoru Gojo as your "favorite"... was so hard.

Falling in love with Satoru was easy. You didn't even realize what was happening to you at first. But in the end, obsession with the most powerful sorcerer has taken over your entire mind. It was the "wrong feelings", but you didn't care. Because for the sake of Satoru Gojo, you were willing to do anything...  

The only problem was that Satoru Gojo was too strong for you to wear your yandere status with pride!

What's the most important thing about yandere? That's right, stalking! But how can you stalk someone who sees everything around them?! Every time you tried to follow Satoru and admire his figure from afar, he would always teleport to you and ask how you were doing, what you were doing, if there was anything he could do to help! It was incredibly awkward! You were ready to start digging right under you! It seems that Satoru should feel bad because a pair of eyes were watching him, but in the end, you were uncomfortable!

Next on the list were "manipulations". Why kill everyone around your lover when you can just make the person you care about think you're the only one they should live for? But the problem was that Satoru Gojo too arrogant and overconfident. Therefore, any of your words were simply ignored!

You tried to convince him that he could only trust you, but in the end Gojo started parodying you with his hand and you gave up. You tried to convince him that other people didn't appreciate him, to which Satoru just agreed and said that a great person like him gets too little praise! You tried to convince him that you only need him, but he's Satoru Gojo, literally everyone needs him!

Taking photos of your favorite one. Every time you tried to secretly take a photo of Satoru, he would abruptly put his face in the lens and ask what you were doing here, and he would ruin your perfect shot! Gojo made you arrange a photo shoot for him. And even though you were happy to have so many photos of him, they were all posted somewhere on the social network in the end.

Theft of his personal belongings. How could you steal something from someone with Six Eyes and Limitless?! Every time you wanted to get out of the trash can a stick that previously had caramel on it, but now had the sorcerer's saliva on it, Satoru would appear next to you and ask what you were doing here. A couple of times, he literally took you to the dump, because you allegedly "like to rummage in the trash". Stealing something directly from him (like hair or nails) wasn't an option either, because he just wouldn't let other people get close to him! Didn't say anything about the things from his house.

Killing your "rivals"... You had no rivals! Because the girls didn't like Satoru! Yes, he was good-looking, rich, and charismatic, but few people can stand up to his incredible personality. And while you adored every annoying phrase the sorcerer uttered, you also knew that no one else could stand being around Gojo for more than two hours and not go crazy in the end.

Attempts to steal him. What were you hoping for anyway?! Even if you manage to feed him pastries with sleeping pills and drag him to your basement, how will you stop him?! Satoru will simply get up with the chair, walk up the stairs, pop into your kitchen and ask when breakfast is served! You will not be able to scare him, because he sees through the blindfold, so he will immediately know who his captor is, and therefore he will not feel tension and will not reveal his weaknesses to you!

Your life as a yandere was unbearable. You've met someone who knows all your "little quirks" and just laughs at your feelings. Because Satoru Gojo is too perfect for you to catch him with your little tricks.

You were sitting on the curb with your knees pressed to your chest, looking sadly at the pond ahead. You once again tried to break into the sorcerer's personal locker to get his personal belongings, but he caught you doing it. And most importantly… he didn't scold you. He never scolded you, got angry with you, or tried to punish you for your actions. It seems that your "abnormal behavior" was nothing more than a joke to him…

There were footsteps, but you didn't look up. You knew by that sound who was coming towards you. You just kept sitting, only now you hid your face even more in your own lap.

–Hey, hey, (Y/N)-chan, what's with the depression?

You heard a cheerful voice above your ears and immediately blushed. The smell of him, the sound of his voice, just being around him... it all made you go crazy. But you couldn't do anything to satisfy the yandere inside you.

–M-m-m, is it because I didn't let you steal my toothbrush? – Gojo poked you in the shoulder with his finger. – Well, well, I'll give you more time next time, I promise! If you want, I can give you the gum I had in my mouth a while ago.

You sighed and silently extended your hand, still looking down at your feet. Something slimy touched your fingers, and then you put it in your mouth. Satoru grimaced.

–Do you really like even such vile things?

–Of course, – you whispered. – Because they're all connected to you…

 Gojo chuckled and sat down next to you. He stared at the lake in front of him, then slowly pulled off his blindfold and cast a glance at you.

You were so funny! Satoru found your attempts to get him just for yourself charming and even childish. Gojo had many enemies. But he had only one such admirer.

 Satoru chuckled while looking at you. He could annoy you forever, he could interfere with your work, he could embarrass you… but you still continued to look at him with the most devoted eyes, full of love.

You flinched as a black cloth covered your eyes. You slowly pulled the item down on your chin and abruptly realized that it was a blindfold belonging to the most important person in your life. Gojo snickered at the look of genuine delight on your face. (You even lost your gum.) Satoru grimaced as he watched the slimy lump fall on your shoes, then stood up.

You thought that he would leave you with such a gorgeous gift, but suddenly he patted you on the head... like some kind of dog. Gojo gave you a big smile, showing his perfect smile, and said with a laugh:

–As a stalker, you're disgusting, (Y/N)-chan. But as a loyal dog who follows me around and yaps at anyone who insults me, I really like you! If you want to be my cute pet... then you know where to find me, my little obsessive puppy.

You were really like a dog that followed Gojo around and enjoyed his every move…

 Satoru started walking away, still watching you with his Six Eyes. He grunted as you abruptly jumped up, pulled the blindfold over his nose to inhale the scent, and ran after him with a happy face.

 Gojo Satoru was a bad lover for a yandere like you. But as long as he finds you at least a little funny and worthy of his attention... you were willing to be a silly distraction for him, even if you could never get him the way other yanderes do.