#yandere if you squint

[silent-browser]

I think the reason I'm into big scary guys is that they will 🥺👉👈 whenever they see the person they love. Bonus points if they get touch starved and just wanna be snuggling and hugging and holding you hand no matter where you two are.

[vanaglorie]

You answered 30, but didn't say if he'd be against trying it or if he'd be insecure about it. :o *curiosity*

He won’t be insecure about it, he just can’t fathom it as a possibility. Why would they ever want anyone else? Why would they ever need anyone else? Byakuran doesn’t want variety. He’s experienced every timeline and seen everything the world has to offer. Having even one constant in his life is a luxury he won’t let go of easily.

Besides, they won’t even have time for anyone else. Byakuran is a handful. He won’t let them.

[unleashedgal]

Reminder:

Your fave wants you under their tree. Naked. With a ribbon around your neck. That's all they want this year. Be nice and give it to them! They deserve it!

[st4rshang0ut]

HEAR ME OUT.

Genshin SAGAU au, right?

Okay. So reader gets isekaied into Genshin Impact. And everyone is crawling at their feet.

At thier divine one’s beck and call, everyone, Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine, they all love you!

But wait.

Why is there another mortal?

Why do they have such similar hair to you? Why is their mannerisms so… similar to you? They must be an imposter!

But when the Archons bring the trembling and terrified imposter before you, asking thou heavenly one on how to kill them, you raise your hands and stop them.

Stepping forward, you brush away the stray hair out of the imposter’s face. Your eyes sparkle upon seeing them. Such beauty… so perfect. Their eyes, their cute nose, and their bewildered yet frightened expression.

They. Were. Perfect.

And from that day on, wait, the Archons, what about them? Why are they so mad? Oh, it’s because you, my dear reader, are too busy on the person everyone was calling an imposter!

You loved the so called imposter, how could you not? Sure, your acolytes were harsh with them, making them scared and wary of you at first. But slowly, you two slowly opened up, and now, both you and the ‘imposter’ are a couple!

Who cares about having Teyvat at your feet? They could all be against you, and you wouldn’t care. You had your love by your side, how could you not?

And the best part? The so called imposter was isekaied randomly as well! They had no intentions of being a ‘divine’, yet, because you arrived first, everyone thought they were an imposter and treated them like a prisoner.

How patheticcute. They all love you, adore you, worship you, they would kill for you, and yet? You focus barely on them. You love your precious ‘imposter’ to death.

Wait, what do you mean Zhongli’s trying to poison the imposter?

[cynnkk]

mammon. oh mammon.

since he's competing w/ all the other devils for your attention, he decided to be owned by you, not the other way around.

He opened up and admitted that he fell in love with you at first sight. if you remember, you were resting on his chest when you woke up in the hospital and he spent all that time thinking about how wonderful, breathtaking and powerful you were and what it would feel like for you to own him, for him to belong TO you.

He would be solely and exclusively devoted to you and to your well-being. Mind you, he's not a low level demon: he's the king of Tartaros, the wealthiest kingdom in Hell and everything belongs to him but, as his master, everything will belong to you as well.

The whole thing is new to the both of you but he's resolute: he likes you "just because", not because you're solomon's descendant but because you are you.

You'll come around someday and love him like he loves you. He wants you to surrender to your greed, to take everything from him and he'll accept everything you have to offer: from lovely dates along the tartaros river to long fucking sessions on his throne, he would lap it all up, like the good sub he was always meant to be.

in a world where you are seen as somebody else's stand-in, he's the one asking you to recognise him.

You're his master after all, no one can replace you.

He's yours. you just have to accept it as a fact, because he's not letting you go.

[starzgaze]

Just a though rmb that time u made hae-in and Jinwoo fight for y/n? I just rmbered it randomly and I propose:

Hs Jinwoo and Hae-in both regressing and they're pining for Y/N who used to be a mage/healer/support for them.

Ur local hottest boy in school + The it girl and Track Running champion of another school fighting for y/n's hand

this has been living rent free in my head to the point ive unconsciously drawn it LMAO so art down below if u scrolllll

okay but this concept with an extremely mundane [name]?? hello especially someone who's just trying to get past school with average grades and average effort then maybe with a few volunteering here and there where it's coincidentally being the assistant for the coah in the track and field team.

[name] being known for helping a few people and having an affinity when it comes to patching up people and helping them so volunteer work is just light work for them so they didn't mind as much when the things they do during their time in the track and field team is tossing water to the runners and sometimes fixing them up if they trip or break an ankle. being part of the red cross club last year really helps in these situations.

then [name] meets jinwoo who's the new member in the team and someone who just suddenly transferred to the school, saying it was about his father getting a promotion and they needed to move places.

[name] believes this because everyone has their own situations but it was in fact jinwoo finally finding out what school [name] was in after a few years of trying to search for them then he transferred school, not caring if it's the middle of the school year. of course [name] doesn't know this.

then those two gets closer and jinwoo tries to charm [name] with silly jokes and impressive stamina and speed whenever he's on the field, leaving [name] awe struck. it was obvious to everybody else that the new extremely handsome hotshot of the track and field team had a little thing for the stupidly mundane volunteer who only took the job because they needed something for their community service hours.

just as about this man was gonna ask [name] out the coach of the track and field team announces that now on during after class practices another student from a different school will be attending their training program and blow and behold it's fucking cha hae-in much to jinwoo's dismasy.

hae-in isn't much experienced with this whole regression thing so she's less prepared compared to jinwoo but her persistence and determination just to see her sweet little [name] again what helped her pulled through and landed her here.

hae-in took the program through some connections and begging to her coach to let her train under a different school, claiming it will help her grow and the coach believed her because how can you deny your favourite athlete that's stupidily amazing in the sport? anyway hae-in successfully got into [name]'s school without moving in even if it's not the whole day, seeing [name] was more than enough for her.

that is until she saw her number one rival at the corner, hae-in compares him to a cockroach with how he can't leave her sigh and his sense of fashion that's constantly dark themed. she's low-key pissed that he's here, like just leave her alone and her cutie [name] that's not for him.

[name] spends more time with the two, now hae-in is in the picture. they would help hae-in whenever she would get a sprain and give her tips on what to do to alleviate the pain and get better asap before the regionals or take her out to hang out because it was easier being the same gender. jinwoo is fuminggg at this because it took him like months to do that and for hae-in it took like a measly few weeks?? that's so unfair

suddenly the two get into little competitions with eachother trying to impress [name] and of course they noticed but they don't believe that the two most sought after players in the school or even the region would have a thing for them, they're just good friends.

that drives them insane but it's okay one of them will make you realize it's more than that!! it's just a matter of time and effort you'll be in their arms.

btw imagine after school going out with the two and you guys eat at some street vendor spot then they argue who could pay. they get so distracted with arguing you just pay for yourself as you watch with the street vendor the two fighting.

[yanderemommabean]

Can we get some yandere Geto going down on a transmasc reader? Pretty please 🙏

((Hi I hope this is ok! Im not too confident but here goes nothing!))

You were so sensitive, head pressing back against the pillow, thighs shaking against your will as you were put on full display. Sugurus calloused fingers made you feel a fluttering pressure as you closed your eyes and try to process anything this gorgeous psycho was saying. 

“You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you, yet you refuse to let me service you the way you deserve. Tsk tsk tsk”  Geto clicks his tongue in disapproval, dragging his fingers up and down your folds as he wears a rather lascivious smile. “My good boy deserves praise, worship, to be given nothing but devotion, yet you starve us of that. You know I can’t let this continue, don’t you?” 

His voice dropped an octave, deep and angered “You’re slutty hole is quivering for me already. Aching and wanting. Why? Why deny yourself the pleasure we want to give you? It’s angering to think that you’ve been starved of my touch, -my love-  for so long” 

He flicks at your sensitive bud, groaning as he listens to you gasp and struggle to make a sentence. A small bubble of pleasure was forming in his stomach as he drags his thumb up and down your dewy folds, your cute dick begging to be sucked and toyed with as he made you who you were meant to be- 

His and his alone. His to toy with and take apart and to put back together. 

You whimper, barely able to form words as he cruelly begins to flick at your cock again, more wetness dripping from you as Geto presses his face into your wiry hairs and inhales, deep and guttural. Oh how dare you keep this from him? You’ll have to be properly punished once the blood flow is back into his brain and not currently making his cock a precum drooling mess. 

“W-wait no! I-I’m sorry!” You managed to garble out, but it wasn’t really any use, was it? You know Geto is a powerful man, he takes what he wants no questions asked. If he wants to toy with you…

Your body goes taught, his tongue dragging up your skin and swirling around your cock before giving it a gentle suck, making your hips raise and your voice strained. Oh holy fuck his mouth is dangerous- 

He indulges himself, tongue tracing up and down all of your folds as he watches your cock twitch and beg for attention, sliding his wet muscle inside of you as his fingers stroke you up and down, methodical and precise, as if he knew exactly how you liked it. 

Which he should. He’s had his eyes on you for a while. He’s seen you in more ways than you could ever be aware, and he’s been driven nuts by every denial you give to his proposals and offers. 

Well, no more. Geto will have you worshiped and praised, even if he has to chain you down and let the people…have a taste themselves. And who could blame him? How you felt on his tongue, your flavor, a godly nectar he couldn’t get enough of, oh he’s going to drink his fill and then some!

You practically howled, feeling Geto hold your thighs down to get his tongue in deeper, face pressed as close as it could get as his fingers continue to stroke you, hungry and starved like he couldn't get enough. 

You go to try and bite your sleeve to silence yourself, but a harsh bite to your thigh stops you in your tracks, Getos eyes furious and feral as he catches his breath. “If you hide your heavenly melodies from me, I can assure you, you’re going to regret it. Be louder for me. Let me hear you cry as you fall apart”. 

You swallow, eyes watery as Geto continues to lap away at your cock, fingers now curling inside of you and fluttering to hit that specific ridge, causing you to yelp and tense your legs. 

You were helpless, riding the man's face and fingers desperately, unable to push away the instinct to cum, to cover his face in your mess and give the man what he wants. Fruitlessly you yank at his hair, his lips coming to suck on your cock as his fingers crook just right, causing your vision to turn white and your knuckles to clench in his hair. 

The explosion of pleasure has you panting and gasping, words failing to leave your lips as Geto slurps, sucks, and curls his fingers again and again, brutally like he’s punishing you. And in a way, he was. You have turned down every kind offer He’s given you to join his “group”. To be one of the enlightened. No more. He’ll have you with him, and he’s going to ravish you until you simply can’t leave. 

It’s hard to walk when one's legs can’t work, after all. And you’re so sensitive, it should be fun watching you come apart again and again, until you’re crying those pretty tears and can’t push him (or his love) away anymore. 

“Fuck fuck FUCK- “ you cry, that cord in your core finally snapping after a few more rough sucks, his fingers not stopping as you rock against his face and go still, shaking and gasping as the pleasure shoots through you and your eyes can’t help but roll back. 

Oh what a sight to behold. You, sweat covered and disheveled, panting and hiccuping little pleas as Geto continues to toy with you. You aren’t being fair here you know? Being this precious is dangerous with a man like him. 

You wince, a pitiful noise being made as Geto kisses up your stomach, but only moves to hold your legs open again, making sure he left another bite to your other thigh as he feels you quiver and tremble beneath him. “Atta boy. See? That wasn’t so bad now was it?” he asks, his skilled fingers coming to rub up and down your still twitching cock. “Now keep behaving. We have a long night ahead of us, I’d rather it be easy on you”

-Mommabean (I hope you like!)

[spoonguy]

Light Underwater

Pairing: Deep Sea Alien x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 1255

Synopsis: Shipwrecked on an alien planet, miles underwater, you are rescued by a lonely alien.

Content Warnings: Claustrophobia, emetophobia, thalassophobia

They couldn't get over how soft you felt, how warm you were to the touch, the fine hairs coating your skin. They pulled you closer, flush against their gelatinous body, and enveloped you in their countless tendrils. You hummed and traced a finger lazily across their membrane, watching the bioluminescent trail that followed. They hummed as well, and cascades of warm, orange light rippled over their body.

The tidepool you were reclining in was warmer than any back on your home planet, and the air was muggy and hot, so you couldn't say you didn't enjoy the feel of their smooth, cool skin.

When you first crash landed, the air was nearly too thick to breathe, but by now your lungs were mostly accommodating for the lack of oxygen. You inhaled another deep, measured breath and sank further into the embrace of your rescuer.

Their real name was an incomprehensible combination of burbles, hums, and clicks, but they seemed happy enough when you called them by your best approximation, Qila. They had picked a name for you, also, a wavery melodic hum layered with the sound of a bubbling stream. Their native language was so beautiful, it almost made you forget about the oppressive, dark cave you were stuck in.

Your ship had crash-landed, leaving you stranded miles below the water’s surface, leaving you to watch the oxygen levels slowly diminish until a pair of tendrils wormed their way around the seams of the airlock and pulled you to safety. They had come to investigate the noise, only to have their echolocation clicks drowned out by the panicked beating of your heart. Since they had first laid their 

A few of the more prehensile tendrils wrapped around your waist and pulled you gently towards the underside of their gelatinous body. You were pulled into an air-filled pocket they had formed inside themself lined with glowing fluorescent algae from above the water’s surface. It seemed to do an alright job converting your expelled carbon dioxide to breathable oxygen, but you couldn't go more than an hour before you started to get lightheaded. Qila seemed to pick up on your lethargy whenever this happened and was sure to begin to surface shortly after.

The ride to their cave was mostly uneventful, albeit slow. Qila seemed to be even more susceptible to pressure changes than you were, ascending at a snail’s pace. The view was less than spectacular, inky black darkness stretching out for eternity, broken up only by plankton the size of your fist that Qila would ensnare with barbed tendrils that unfurled with uncharacteristic speed.

Their cave was small and far from any other members of their species, or anything else for that matter. Anytime they took you out of the cave, the only thing you could see for miles was ocean. It was always a relief when the opening of their cave came into view, decorated with algae and various aquatic plants. You slipped back out through their permeable skin and swam towards what could be considered your room. It was closer to a pantry than anything, housing materials that could not be stored in water. The walls were coated in the same glowing algae that made it possible to breathe inside of Qila’s body, but the greater volume allowed you to stay here indefinitely. You pulled yourself up onto a ledge, careful not to knock over onto the nearby cubes of salt, sugars, and other soluble minerals, wrapped in hydrophobic coatings.

You turned back to Qila, watching as the vesicle you had traveled in slowly healed itself, closing over until you could no longer see any break in their outer membrane. Only the top part of their bell-shaped body was above the water; the thirty or so feet of tentacles below them were submerged, well past the extent of your vision. They bobbed gently in the water and let out a series of clicks undercut by a high-pitched buzzing.

Well? A single thought resonated in your head, the result of the translation device embedded in your auditory cortex.

“I’m fine, just a little winded. Give me a second.” You weren’t sure if they could actually understand the words you were saying, but they seemed to be able to pick up on the general meaning of your most prominent thoughts and even better from your spoken words. “Can I get some food, though? I’m getting pretty hungry.”

Wait. Will return. Qila disappeared below the still water, leaving you in complete darkness without their bioluminescence. You sat in unlit silence for only a few minutes, listening to the periodic drips of condensation falling back to break the still surface. They returned holding half-a-dozen semi-opaque spheres, each containing a different plant or creature.

The first sphere held what looked to be some sort of crustacean. You peeled open the sphere and pulled out what might have been an arm or leg, encased in a thick black carapace. The shell was easier to remove than you expected, pulling it off in fragmented chunks, which you set beside you in a pile.

Discard. Why?

“The shell—I think that’s what it is, at least—is too sharp for me to swallow. It will cut up my mouth.”

You sniffed the meat and decided that it smelled close enough to crab that it was probably safe enough to eat. A tiny nibble let you know that the taste was at least palatable, if not a little sour.

Acceptable?

“Yeah, for now. Let’s wait to see if I get sick, though.”

The other containers held food that Qila and you had already vetted through trial and error. Who would have thought you could get food poisoning from seaweed? But the purple kelp-looking leaves had left you vomiting and feverish until you bounced back. After that, Qila had become extra cautious in monitoring you for symptoms of food intolerance.

“Thank you; I appreciate it,” you said after you had finished. Qila vocalized happily. “I appreciate you, also. I would have died without your help.”

Enjoy presence. Alone before. Now partner. Happy.

“Partner?” you questioned.

One to share thoughts. To sing with.

“Like a friend?”

Qila was quiet for a while before they responded.

Unsure.

“Qila, are there others like you?”

Far. Inaccessible.

“You can’t see them?”

Correct. Population too large. Exiled.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” You placed a hand along their body.

Request?

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Sing? Together? Qila let out a tentative hum.

“Of course. Um, what do you want me to sing?”

Important song. Meaningful.

You softly began to hum the melody of your favorite song before you broke out into the first verse. Qila began to harmonize, adding percussive clicks and ethereal droning. The muted light inside them grew brighter, more brilliant, until it illuminated the whole cave. Each note their produce lit up different spots on their skin, only to fade as the sound faded. As you came to the end of the last line, you let your voice trail off, and the echos grew quieter until they were inaudible.

Qila was glowing; mesmerizing swirls of bioluminescence cast warm light throughout the dark cave. They continued to murmur bits and pieces of the melody that had stuck with them.

Request?

“Anything.”

Stay. Here, together.

“You know I can’t exactly leave. My ship is broken.”

Unimportant. Promise.

“Absolutely.”

The wave of light that radiated off of Qila was so bright it hurt your eyes. They warbled happy melodies, only parts of which your translator could pick up.

Joy. Companion. Here. Together. Always.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Countdown

"Villain, please-" Hero started.

"I told you not to try anything, and what did you do as soon as my back was turned? You realize you could've gotten hurt pulling a stunt like that?"

"I wouldn't have had to pull the stunt if you weren't holding me prisoner!"

"Prisoner?" Villain scoffed, "I've given you everything you could ever want, but if you insist you're a prisoner..."

Villain's expression darkened. They pulled a syringe from their pocket and approached Hero.

"I may as well treat you like one."

Hero scurried back on the bed, but Villain was quicker. They instantly jammed the syringe into Hero's skin, letting the contents flood their system. Hero's body began to feel numb and fuzzy. They collapsed on the bed, unable to hold themselves up.

"P-please-"

"The time for begging is over," Villain said, "here's what's going to happen. We're going to count down from five. I'll start us off. Five..."

Villain produced a roll of heavy-duty tape and began to wrap it around Hero, pinning their limbs together.

"Villain, wait!"

Villain ignored them. They stuffed squeezeballs in Hero's hands, then taped them up into useless stumps. They wrapped the rest of their body up, to the point that not an inch of them was visible below their neck. They then fetched a shiny, industrial black bag. The inside was coated with adhesive. They stuffed Hero inside, ignoring their protests, and vacuum sealed them in.

"Four..."

Villain shoved a squeezeball into Hero's mouth, holding it shut and smearing a strong adhesive over their lips. They then wrapped several layers of tape around their head, over their lips.

"Mm!!"

"Three..."

Villain wrapped more tape over Hero's eyes and the rest of their head. The only thing that wasn't covered was their nose.

"Mmph! Mm!"

"Shh," Villain cooed, "we're not done yet. Two..."

Villain shoved earplugs into Hero's ears, then snapped noise-canceling headphones over them as well.

"One."

They placed an oxygen mask over Hero's nose, that would keep a steady supply of the numbing drug in their system.

"Some time like this should teach you to behave," Villain said, not that Hero could hear them.

Villain left Hero's room and set about putting more security measures in place should their Hero make another escape attempt. Though Villain doubted they would after today. Meanwhile, Hero's muffled screams could barely be heard from their room.

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Ko-Fi

[dark-side-blog3]

What demon brothers yanderes do you think would be against darling have a lock on her door? I feel like Levi would understand why darling would want that esp if like me darling is used to not having any privacy but desperately wanting some but also Levi would definitely hate it when darling locks their doors. Beel and Belphie would break the door/doorknob. I feel like Mammon and Satan might lockpick the door open and depending on behavior Lucifer would possibly remove the door entirely. Also it’d be so much worse if darling was a little

I don't know how niche of a childhood experience this is, but my family never removed whole doors when we acted out, instead removing the door knob/handle. No way to lock or even really keep the door closed, but still better than removing the whole door. Also remember using my fingers though the hole to hold the door shut and getting them smacked with a hairbrush or other tool.

In any case all of them canonically just walk in whenever they want to see you. So you locking your door would be unheard of. I think Mammon and Asmo might actually walk into the door because they never expected you to lock it.

You’re dead on with what they all proceed to do next.

Lucifer will be tempted to remove the door but I can see Leviathan vouching for you to keep the door— he would be mortified if removing doors became a staple punishment in this house. So instead, you have a handle-less door, and any attempt to tug the door closed will have your hands swatted at with various tails and nearby objects. A particularly pissed Lucifer, Beel, or Belphie may break the door while you’re still on it, flinging you across the room.

[lorelune]

(cw: brat reader, self destructive reader, asphyxiation, minor gojo satoru x reader, past satosugu, implied yandere getou suguru if you squint, dark content if you squint)

getou suguru is going to kill you.

it's your first thought when you walk onto the grounds of his compound. when you feel the barrier ebb and shake, your technique rendering it useless for just a moment. a clear, noticeable cut you've left him.

'i'm back, baby.' it says. it's a siren song for someone with a temper like his.

you don't bother going to the main building. you splay out on a bench nearby, light a cigarette, and wait. suck down smoke and let it billow in the cold. you leave your pack and lighter next to you, and offer it with an open palm the moment getou suguru graces you with his presence.

"honored and revered one," you praise, voice sickly sweet. you stand and bow, cigarette high as you head goes low. "would you do me the honor of sharing a smoke?"

"i thought you'd left."

"hm?" you ask, a cheeky smile tugging at the corner of your lips. you light his cigarette. "whatever do you mean?"

he takes a drag, an odd thing to see when he's in his full monk get up. "you disappeared."

"i had work to do."

"'work'?" suguru's expression twist, something venomous lighting his eyes. "you hardly do work around our precious home— what dragged you off so far?"

you feel his cursed energy thrum. the angry loud kind that makes blood speed in your veins. you want to eat him whole.

"well." you smile a viper's grin. "satoru gojo still has my number. he got drunk. booty-called me. and i answered."

"did you now?" his smile feels wicked at the corners. you revel in it. "satoru doesn't drink."

"he does, actually. apparently he has a tradition of getting shit-faced on his ex's birthday." the cherry burns close to the filter. you're sure getou won't mind if you indulge in another. "and... yesterday was february third."

the silence of the compound is deafening. you swear even the tree birds have gone quiet in the hills, the river song silenced even as getou suguru stares you up. you imagine he's pondering whether or not to kill you.

"sorry to pick up your scraps." you light another, exhale in his face. "you've been busy lately, dear. i got bored."

"bored?" he laughs, cackles. there's cracks around the edges of him, you revel in them. what you wouldn't give to crack him in your own hands. "fucking an old bedmate of mine is how you satiate such a feeling?"

"absolutely." you want to split him.

suguru's cursed energy fluctuates, so quickly you don't have a chance to try and sidestep or avoid him.

"must i keep you on fucking leash for you to behave?"

a whip-like cursed, thin and covered in eyes, flicks and cuts the air. it wraps around your throat and you dare not to touch it. you can feel the poison of its half-flesh already seeping into you.

"really?" you ask, voice breaking. "isn't this excessive? i pwomise i won't ever fuck your ex behind your back again. though, satoru did seem pretty hurt, still, and i think he'd be down for a three-way—"

the cursed tightens and drags you down in to the ground. your knees hit pavement and you don't even have the air to spit an insult at suguru. always so childishly physical with his reprimands. your grin hardly wavers the curse drags you forward, on your knees at his feet.

suguru's expression is unreadable. you like that you've stumped him. rubbed at wound that isn't new or raw, not even festering, just healed wrong. the glee of it is exhiliharing.

he holds the cigarette to your lips and you take a drag.

"it would do you well to learn some manners, i suppose." getou sighs and exhales a lungful of smoke into your face. "if you'd like to paw for scraps like a dog, then i'll treat you like one."

he grabs a fistful of your hair, pain sparking at your scalp and you wheeze out a laugh.

"as if you don't already treat me like your l-lapdog already." your words break at the end, vision wavering at the edges.

you enjoy this too much, probably. getou suguru is a well-veiled man and finding his weak points has become your mission in your time within 'his family'. your technique is indispensable to him, both of you know it, and thus you know you have more rope than the rest of your 'kin'. you use it well. poke him. prod him.

force him to expend a curse on you, just to get you on your knees. the power you wield over him makes you dizzy. the ability you have to get under his skin is yours alone, and both of you know it. you think he hates you for it sometimes. sometimes, you think its why he loves you.

you know, later, you'll regret such thoughts. you'll be sore and aching and unable to sit properly and you'll wonder if it was a good idea to return to the compound while still dripping with the cum of jujutsu world's god. you'll consider that, perhaps, you've pushed getou suguru too hard.

you suppose, as suguru presses his lips to yours, bites at your lip until you're bleeding— it's best to save your regret. suguru is the most fun when he's angry, wounded in a way that he couldn't possibly be sane about.

so instead, you let him lick the blood from your lips, suck in air when the leash lets up (just enough)— if you've truly pisses getou suguru off enough to have him consider ending your life, you might as well enjoy the high of it.

[digenerate-trash]

Merry Christmas! Sorry to add to the Bailey pile but could we get a drabble about yan Bailey hiring/ paying Whitney to bully and isolate the PC thinking it will draw them closer but Bailey immediately regretting the arrangement once they realize Whitney is into you? Idk a lot about DOL but I love your Bailey writing so much <3 <3 love your whole blog, this smut gets me through a lot <3

Gonna say. This and the idea that brutality Harper pays Whitney to fuck you up is my favorite "gross man doesn't realize that the violent freak is also in love with you" thing and I fucking need that. So here you go!!! 

AMAB Bailey | AMAB Whitney | GN PC. 

Started as a precaution. Just to keep an eye on you at school he promised Robin he'd knock a 100 bucks off his debt every week if he reported back to Bailey and kept an eye on you. But Robin was useless... always has been. 

So instead he went to your tormentor. And when Whitney sat in his office ready to tell the old man to fuck himself to his surprise Bailey didn't want him to stop. He wanted to make it worse. And Bailey was willing to pay to make it happen.

Simple job Bailey thought. Rough you up. Make isolate you. Keep you constantly running from school to home. Then report back. It's an easy job. There's no way even a meathead with a smoking habit could fuck it up. 

The first few weeks went great. Whitney kept a surprisingly detailed account of your humiliation. He even brought Bailey little trophies from his outings. Homework you could never hand in before Whitney stole it. Personal items. Keys. Even your underwear once.

Whitney was such a diligent little monster that Bailey was starting to take a liking to him. He might even be smarter than he leads on. But things shifted. 

Whitney was still all over you the torment never stopped and the reports came in every week like they should but... you weren't as.... upset. You'd changed a bit. Something shifted and Whitney wasn't giving him any clue as to what that might be.

That is until he found the padlock in your room broken one night. And when Bailey slammed open the door to make sure you hadn't left. Instead, he found the delinquent over you. 

Pressing his teeth into your soft flesh marking you up and holding your hips to his as he thrusted into you. His rings cut the skin on your hips. 

you shouted in surprise and tried to push Whitney off of you but he just bit down harder pulling you close. You know Whitney doesn't mind showing off but this was a little too far for you.

Bailey grabbed Whitney by the hair yanking him off of you you shrieked as Whitney's teeth cut your skin causing you to bleed.

Bailey was furious as he tried to grab Whitney to beat him but Whitney was just a bit faster. Grinning with blood in his teeth not looking for a fight with the old man. He'd already declared war after all. Whitney flees the orphanage still smirking to himself.

Bailey hates that. He hates that he let this monster get so close to what's his. He hates that he let this happen on his watch. He was so careful. But he trusted a deliquent and that was his fault. 

He pulls you from your bed and back to his room. He throws you in the tub before he starts to scrub you down washing off every little touch that Whitney left on you. The water is frigid but Bailey doesn't care. You deserve it for betraying him. And you won't be leaving his sight till he deals with Whitney.

Permanently.

[lobcon]

Imagine, you’ve been away for a week- maybe you were visiting family, maybe you had to fly out somewhere for a job or mission, due to whatever matters your f/o was unable to accompany you. Your flight came back late, in the early hours of the morning, the sun hadn’t even begun to rise. You tiredly dragged your suitcase, hailing a taxi to take you back to your home; you felt completely jet lagged, all groggy and congested as you watched the scenery go by, counting down the minutes until you were back at your apartment. When you finally reached your stop you fumbled with the keys, hearing the locks click as you swung the door opening, throwing down your bags haphazardly onto the floor, you’d take care of them in the morning. In your exhausted state you’d almost missed the shoes at your door- they were too big for you. You glanced around, making your way through the apartment until you found their owner; your f/o was completely passed out on the couch, a now crushed bouquet clutched to their chest as they slept. You weren’t entirely sure how they got in, but the gesture was adorable even with it’s efforts.

[inkblot22]

Can You Keep A Little Secret 3

Someone call somebody, because Epel beat my ass while I was writing this chapter. I thought I had it drafted perfectly and then I reread what I had and was like what is this?? So this is maybe the most edited thing on this blog, hooray! Real talk, though, his rabbit suit is the cutest thing ever and I want to put flowers in his hair. Dividers by @/cafekitsune.

This fic is aimed towards sort of everyone, but the reader possesses afab features. This is important in this chapter, but as it is a reincarnation fic, the fic is aimed at anyone who can handle it. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns!

TW for threatening behavior, mention of death, violence (reader gets tossed around a bit), strangulation, semi-shy reader, AFAB reader, NONCON, DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, pregnancy mention, degrading language used towards reader

Link to previous chapter here!

Epel doesn’t even mention it. You keep your interactions professional, go over your lines at home, and this proceeds for the first week. 

He’s called you a few times, sent a few messages. You changed his name in your phone to “Epel Fucko.” It makes you giggle, at least. That’s about the only funny thing.

Over the week, you ignore every single call and message from Epel. On Thursday, it feels like he’s finally gotten the message, since he stops trying. When he’s at work with you, the two of you are hardly alone, if ever. He’s as sweet as pie as long as there’s at least one pair of outward eyes on your interactions. You sleep alright on Thursday and Friday.

As usual, on the weekend, your new mother comes by, but this time she isn’t alone. She’s got groceries with her, and attached to the groceries is Epel, who she seems absolutely taken with. She’s beaming as she walks in, and when you go to help her with dinner, she shoos you away.

“Go entertain your guest! I can handle myself in here.”

He’s not your guest, but you don’t want to find out what she’s like when she’s annoyed, so you go to the living room, making sure you’re seated within sight of the kitchen. The apartment isn’t big, but you’re not taking any chances.

Epel smiles sweetly at you and shows you his palm, “Lemme see your phone?”

“Why?”

“You ain’t been picking up. Just wanna make sure I don’t gotta get you a new one.”

“It’s not broken.”

Epel’s face twitches, that little microexpression that you notice but can’t observe. He smiles and leans back, resting his ankle on his knee.

“I get it.” You’re certain he doesn’t, but you don’t get the chance to retort when he continues speaking in that overly-innocent tone of voice, “Your mom’s real sweet.”

You have half a mind to think that might be a threat, but surely it couldn’t be. Threats are for fantasy stories, best left in books of espionage and diplomacy and magic. You nod, sighing.

“I think I’d be dead without her, haha.”

“Mmm.” Epel hums, as though he’s disinterested, and changes the subject, “It’s odd to see you not all dolled up.”

“Uh…”

“It’s nothing bad. I think it’s a good change, really. All of this is.”

“Thank… you?” You don’t know how to respond to any of this.

“You’re welcome.” He glances at the wall and squirms in his seat, “You, uh, haven’t replaced your television yet.”

You didn’t know you had a television. It dawns on you, as you shake your head, that Epel could literally have made up anything and is testing you, but you shake that thought off. It’s more ridiculous than the idea of him threatening your mother. 

Speaking of, she exits the kitchen with some amazing looking stir-fry. She hands you your plate and frowns at your proximity to where Epel is sitting.

“You can sit closer. I don’t judge. My, it almost makes me miss your father… and then I remember what he’s like, ahaha!” She jokes, walking back into the kitchen.

Epel smiles, but he’s looking at your plate. He looks confused.

Your mother fills the air with chatter. Since you don’t know much about her, it’s very welcome. At least her talking gives you a distraction from the unwanted guest in your home.

You don’t know why Epel decided to visit you today. Well, slight correction- you do know, you just don’t understand his audacity. What gave him the right to barge in like this, especially after you were very deliberately ignoring him?

Your mother heaves a sigh and gathers the dishes, “Well, let me clean up and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

You stand up and try to help with the dishes, half-hoping to convince the woman to take Epel with her when she leaves, but she shoos you out of the kitchen again. It figures that you’ll have to face your problem head on.

Epel looks about as comfortable as can be, sitting on your couch. He has a tendency to look somewhat stiff in public, but right now he’s leaned back, his legs spread and his toes wiggling in his socks. His eyebrows tick upwards as you stop right in front of him.

You swallow warily, “Uh, it’s getting sort of late.”

“It is.”

You know he understood what you meant. You can’t really trust your mother to be on your side here, however, so you refrain from telling him to stop acting smart, “Yeah, uh… early morning tomorrow?”

As Epel smirks at you as though you’ve just told a very adorable joke, your mother breezes out of the kitchen, “Ta ta, kids! Don’t have too much fun without me!”

About as soon as the door closes, you feel like you need to leave if Epel won’t. Although common sense would tell you not to poke the bear, you don’t have much of a choice, “Epel, it’s time for you to leave.”

Epel doesn’t respond, not immediately. He flexes his hands, cracks his knuckles, and rests his ankle on his knee before his lips quirk into a smile, “You remember the last time we were alone like this?”

The words freak you out more than they have a right to. You can feel your face cycling through various expressions- you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re angry, you’re distressed- and Epel laughs.

“I know you don’t.” He says, standing up. He’s not much taller than you, but he’s somehow looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “If you did, you’d have left with your ma.”

You don’t like that smug, smirky look on his face. You don’t like the way he acts, you don’t like the way he treats you. You don’t like him, point blank period. Your eyes narrow and your lip curls, and you can’t help the scowl, “You know, you’re right. Have fun in my apartment, Epel.”

You take two steps back from him and fight back a shiver when he begins giggling. You walk backwards towards the door and he just watches you, laughter peppering the air. As soon as you have your back against the door and your hand on the knob, his laughter dies down and he sighs.

“‘Course.” He drawls, taking a step forward. “I mean… any pretty thing like you would probably not want to be in a room with me after what I did to you.”

“Wh-what?”

Epel’s eyes narrow in some slight disbelief, “You really don’t remember?”

“I-”

His expression twists a little further, then smooths into neutrality. He hums, thoughtful, “What college did I go to?”

You furrow your eyebrows, twisting the knob a little bit. Epel’s expression grows more and more confused.

“Hmm. Somethin’s off about you. Has been for a little while now.” He mumbles, shapely lavender eyebrows furrowed.

“N-no, I’m me, I just-”

“How long have we known each other?”

You don’t have an answer. You have no answer. You balk and Epel grabs you by your collar and drags you away from the door. You kick and struggle, clawing at his hands, but he’s unfortunately stronger than he looks as he dumps you on the floor of your bathroom then crouches to get in your face.

And then he’s standing and scrubbing a hand down his face, his back to you as he mumbles to himself. He stalks to the mirror and wrenches it open. You didn’t even know it did that.

“You only took one.” His voice is cold, and he turns to pin you with a glare, “But you’re acting a lot better than you was.”

“O-one what? Epel, you’re scaring me. I’m gonna call the cops.”

Epel laughs in your face and stalks towards you. His posture is all wrong, he looks like some kind of feral animal, and then he grips the front of your shirt and yanks, “What would you tell them? I’d love to know.”

“Y-you’re threatening my wellbeing by acting erratic!”

He looks unimpressed, jostling you once, “I’m acting erratic? I used to be the polite one! And now you… you don’t got none of your memories and you’re sweeter’n pie. People don’t change like that, honey, not without a little help. You’re smart enough to know that.”

“What are you talking about? What did you pull out of the medicine cabinet?” Your voice is warbling, like you’re trying to speak to the tune of a theremin.

Epel shoves you back, your back hitting the bathtub, before picking a weekly pill case out of the medicine cabinet. His slender fingers pull out a pearlescent pill from the case and hold it up to the vanity so the light frames it. He’s very picturesque, but this isn’t something sweet or wonderful. You’re absolutely certain he’s going to fuck you up tonight, and you don’t know how you’re going to get out of this yet. You shuffle so you’re standing, and Epel turns to you, an eerie smile on his pretty face. He’s in-between you and the door.

“Do you know what these are?” He shows you the pill.

You shake your head. You don’t know what that is. Epel clucks his tongue and mockingly pouts.

“This,” He takes a step forward and places the pill in his palm, looking down at it, “is what your daily multivitamin looks like. I remember, because you made a big deal about it when you were first put on them. Do you remember?”

You don’t answer. It’s not like you needed to, really, since Epel is once again carrying the conversation.

“Of course you don’t. The self-centered brat I know would never miss an opportunity to make themselves prettier at the cost of actual beauty. And you are not the self-centered brat I knew. You’re someone else.”

“I-”

“Don’t worry. Let me finish, and then I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.” He shows you the pill again. “This is not your daily multivitamin. If you were the person who lived here, the one I’ve known for five some-odd years, you would also know that I went to NRC.”

“The mage school?” You ask blankly.

“Mmm-hmm. Very good. I was placed in Pomefiore. It’s a dorm there, bunch’a frills and shit, all obsessed with beauty… and poison.”

“Y-you-”

“Ah-ah! I ain’t done, sugar. Now, I knew something fishy was going on when you weren’t wearing a pound of makeup last week, but I figured it was what I intended to be a… soothing powder, of sorts, at work. Now that I know you ain’t been taking them, well…”

“Y-you poisoned them?”

Epel’s eyes narrowed sharply at you. Normally his features are very soft and welcoming, but his piercing blue gaze is nothing but dangerous now. “So you admit it.”

It’s not a question. It’s a blunt statement, the only fluctuation in his voice having been placed there by his accent. You inch along the wall and he turns to watch you. As you reach the door, you think he’s maybe going to lunge at you, but instead he delicately covers his mouth and snickers. His shoulders shake and he begins to giggle, which evolves into full blown hysterical laughter.

You twist the handle and over-estimate, falling a bit backwards as the door swings open. If you survive tonight, your neighbors are going to be pissed. You quickly scramble to your feet and rush for your phone. There is no house phone here, and you wonder why you didn’t bring your cellphone with you when you went to the door.

You don’t make it to the living room, since Epel tackles you to the floor. His laughter echoes in your apartment like some kind of haunting song, the tolling of the bells before a funeral. You shriek, your eyes filling with tears as his arm curls around your neck.

“E-Epel, I’m sorry, I’m sorry that whoever I was acted mean to you, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me-”

His laughter rises, “Shut the hell up and stay still.”

You do as he says, despite you wanting to keep pleading, because his arm has constricted around your throat and you’re choking. The guttural noises escaping you are a combination of your terrified sobs and broken gasps for air. Epel wrestles you so you’re standing and then drags you into your bedroom, shoving you so you’re splayed out on the rug next to your bed.

“I always dreamed of seeing you… the real you with that cute look on your face, the one that screams, ‘Oh, help me! Anyone, save me!’ Distress. Like your little heart is breaking.” He straddles you and puts his hand over your face, grinning. “I always wanted to see you like this. Too bad you’re just the unfortunate bystander to years of rivalry, huh? Guess it makes sense that you seemed spacey.”

“E-Epel- Epel, p-please don’t do this. I’ll leave you alone, I promise, I-”

“What is ‘this’?” His voice is teasing, a cruel little smirk on his face as he leans so his hands are cuffing your wrists to the floor. “What do you think I’m gonna do?”

“Y-you’re gonna kill me again…?” You sound so small. Like a mouse, or something of the like.

Epel covers his mouth again as he laughs, eyes shutting in mirth and then he leans close to your ear. You can hear him moving, hear the saliva in his throat as he swallows, and the moisture on his breath hits your ear, making your skin prickle, “Do you want me to kill you again?”

You shake your head, desperate for this second chance at life. You already died, and there was nothing until you woke up. You didn’t even realize it, thinking you were just asleep before. You’re stressed out, but you want the chance for things to get better.

“Mmm. Good.” Epel draws back a bit and places his hands on your waist, his thumbs pushing a bit too hard against your skin, “Here’s what we’re gonna do, honey. I am going to fuck you-”

“No! No, no, no, please-”

Epel smacks the rest of your plea out of your mouth. Your cheek stings and he lowers his hand, smiling sweetly, “As I was saying, I am going to fuck you until we both know you’re pregnant. We’re going to announce that we’re together, we’re going to be together. Because you’re not who I knew, I like you more than the person I knew, and you need me anyway.”

You sob, your voice loud as Epel braces a hand around your neck and makes quick work of your shorts. You squirm and wriggle and he uses the other hand to drag up your shirt, pinching your nipple before he pants and starts pulling his slacks open.

“You need me, you know that? I’m the only one who knew the real you, the you before your little accident.” Something burning hot presses against your thigh, and you shudder, “Do you understand? Tell me you love me if you understand.”

“N-no, no, please, Epel, I don’t-”

“You don’t what?” He seethes, angling his hips and pressing against your entrance, “You don’t understand or you think you’re gonna be okay on your own out here? Those other motherfuckers, they don’t give a damn about you. I’m giving you a chance to heal your public image, bitch. You’d best take it.”

You don’t get the chance to hysterically decline, as Epel slams into you with a lusty grunt. He stays still for a moment and you hear your voice before you realize you’re speaking.

“-this to me? Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?” You babble, your tears making your voice thready. Epel flexes the hand around your neck and you stop talking.

“I always thought you was pretty. You know that?” He almost sounds vulnerable, but the wild look in your eyes and the sudden jerk of his hips makes you remember that Epel is not someone to think of in a positive light, in any capacity. Pity counts. 

He moans and lets his arms loose, his entire body still casing you in as he rests his forehead on the plush rug you’re sprawled on, his hips undulating as he snickers meanly, “Always thought your personality was shit, though. Mmm, I like you so much better like this.”

He’s hot, on top of you. His body temperature is making you uncomfortable, and you’re not sure if that’s your sweat or his sweat that’s dampening your skin. His fingers are a shocking cold, however, as they come up to harshly tweak your nipple.

You yelp, coming back to yourself and squirming again. He sits up so he can clamp a hand around your throat again. The lights are all still on, the room is bright and although there’s a shadow clinging to his front, you can see Epel’s features plain as day. His hair is a mess, it must have fallen out of the tie he had it in. The lavender waves spiral over his pretty face like an ornate picture frame. His cheeks are a pink that would maybe be cute if he wasn’t trying to forcefully fuck a baby into you.

Like always, Epel looks like he’s maybe about to cry. His eyebrows are furrowed, his lips clamped unnaturally tight, his eyes glistening. But behind the shine in his eyes, behind the rosy cheeks and the upset expression, there’s an eerie air of disturbia.

He releases your throat for a moment, then clamps it down again, watching your skin ripple with the force of his thrusts, “I don’t want to kill you. I didn’t want to kill you the first time. So you are going to have to do something for me, so I don’t decide to kill you.”

You gasp, choking for air. Epel tilts his head and smiles, looking more worried than conniving.

“You need to stay still. You don’t have to enjoy it. It’s more about my pleasure anyhow.”

You hate him. You thought you disliked him, but as you nod so he’ll stop strangling you, you decide that you hate this man, you loathe every fiber of his being and the very thought of having his child makes you long for death again. This second chance is not worth this.

Epel coos and kisses your tear-streaked cheek, then lets your throat go, bracing his hands around your head. He’s framing your face as he smirks down at you, his hips rutting into yours. His eyes narrow a bit and he reaches down to tilt your hips further up, one of his hands hooking in the crook of your knee, which he presses as far up as he can go. 

And then he bows his head and lets out a whisper of a groan, his hips stuttering to a stop. You shiver and cry, feeling somehow numb despite being overly aware of every single touch on your body. You feel the carpet beneath you, but you don’t. You feel Epel’s weight on you, but you can’t. You can hear yourself crying, you feel Epel’s lips peppering your face, kissing the tears away, but you refuse to live in this moment.

Epel gets off of you and stretches, then starts unbuttoning his shirt and rolls his slacks the rest of the way off, but leaves his socks on. He hums to himself as he walks out into the main area of the apartment, leaving you in a heap and alone in the bedroom.

He returns with a pair of mugs, one of his cold hands rubbing your belly as he smiles down at you and puts the mugs down.

“Don’t tell me you’re all spent, sugar. It hardly ever takes on the first try. We’ve got another few rounds before we can go to bed.”

You can’t respond.

[rascalthehamster]

Miguel O’Hara | Choked

Cw: getting choked by Miguel (but not in the hot way), dead dove do not eat

You couldn’t see his eyes, his real ones at least. The ones plastered on his mask were furrowed. You wanted to just gauge them with your thumbs but your arms couldn’t reach. The muscles in this strangers arm were flexed so hard, it’s a surprise he didn’t break your neck yet. With a simple twist of his wrist he could.

You were snapped back into the present when his grip suddenly tightened. You couldn’t think about how you could’ve avoided this moment when the moment itself would be your last. You hated your sounds the most. Your desperate pleas and gasps for air that were silenced. As if their escape was as futile as yours. You couldn’t help the drool that spilled out of your mouth or the tears that welled from your eyes. They slithered down your face, rolled over your chin, dripping over the strangers fingers. He didn’t flinch. Just leaned into the grip. You wanted to give up, to let this be your end when, you realized you never actually stopped fighting. Your hands clawed at the strangers fingers, prying them off your neck. Your feet swinging, begging to hit anything that might hinder him, even for a little bit. Claws reaching out to scratch at anything. You haven’t succumbed yet, and he hated that. You could feel the rage in his grip, in his stare.

You gathered as much spit in your mouth as possible and spewed it into his face. He used his other hand to wipe it off, leaning off of his grip just a little. Just enough to allow you to finally get a good scratch of his mask. You dug your own fingers deep into the material, deep enough to tear through his skin. Blood dripped from his cheek as he slammed you back against the wall. The course brick scrapping your head as blood trickled down your spine. Your vision started to fade. Your eyes stared back into his. A vengeful glare was returned. Your vision faded as you continued to fight for air, to thrash against his grip. Pure rage being the only fuel you had left as you faded into darkness.

[cynnkk]

bimet is so money hungry. what would happen if you were to push his boundaries to the point of no return?

it's already known that he's extremely devoted to his lord but don't let yourself be fooled by his snippy remarks: he adores you. his obsession would eventually transfer to you, especially considering the fact that you've already slept together.

you're his lord's lord after all, you're untouchable and this aspect of you attracts all demons alike, bimet included.

you could help him find value outside of money, make him love himself more.

or, you could indulge in his desires to the point of breaking his mind. like a conditioned dog, he'll start associating money with you and when that happens,, he's mf GONE. there's nowhere he can go without him thinking about you, about what you would do to him, his entire being and reason to exist will get tied to you. bimet, the shiny jewel of tartaros, reduced to a madman whose only purpose is to serve you.

he sees money signs when his eyes lay upon you but he immediately reprimands himself. ah, he's not worthy, but he'll spend the rest of his life proving to you that he is.

the urge is stronger than what he feels towards mammon: someone might choose him for once. you HAVE to choose him. what would he do without you? you've worked him up to the point where he doesn't know how to function if not for your sake, your comfort, your pleasure and you want to leave him in this state?

you can't leave. he would never let you.