#yandere pet fetch

[yanderes-galore]

Hi. Would you write a pet-like concept for Fetch (Fazbear's Frights)?

Oh yeah! I can try ^^ May not be the longest but it can be done.

To clarify to those new here, THIS IS PRETTY MUCH JUST AN OVERPROTECTIVE PET CONCEPT AND MEANT TO BE SCARY.

It's more like if you took over for the main character of the Fetch story.

Yandere! Fetch Concept

Pairing: Animal/Pet-like

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Murder, Stalking, Blood, Jealousy, Overprotective behavior, Really that's it.

Ah yes, Fetch would be an overprotective robotic pooch.

He's mute but he does communicate via phone texting.

Fetch easily gets attached to whoever his assigned owner is.

Perhaps you found him and he connected to your phone while you weren't aware.

Or you found him after the events of Fetch and fixed him up?

Fetch does exactly as his name says.

He fetches items for his owner.

Fetch happens to know just what you want at all times.

Hungry? The robotic dog is robbing a local store to bring you your craving.

Bored? Fetch will find a game to play or a book to read.

All the while the robot texts your phone to talk to you.

Usually phrases like;

"HRU?"

"Like my gift? :)"

Surprisingly, you rarely see Fetch.

He's always there, though.

Fetch diligently watches over his owner.

You'll be sleeping at night while glowing orange eyes watch over your house.

He really is loyal like a normal dog.

He thinks he's the best companion for you.

No other human or animal can compare!

Fetch sees you like a close friend, as a dog would see their owner, y'know?

He feels he has to protect you and meet your every need.

Sometimes you'll see him enter your house and sit in your room.

Then you have to remove him... only to get a text later from him.

"Y did U lock me out? :("

Honestly, he'd work the same as he did in the book.

If he felt you were being threatened, Fetch would kill whatever hurt you and drag it to you.

He's proud of it, too.

You're terrified and he's just like...

"Friend safe now! :)"

In his mind, he's doing as he's told!

Dogs protect their owners, right?

Isn't that what he did?

He gets horrendous when you have family or pets.

They could never replace him.

You don't need them.

Murder is just a task to him.

Which is why he doesn't understand your crying when you come home to your robotic pet covered in blood and gunk.

Surrounded by corpses.

"U would not replace me, right? Y R U sad? :("

Looks like the only way to get rid of this robotic menace is... destruction.

Hopefully he's still susceptible to baseball bats...

Or else you may not make it out of this alive.

"Friend not happy with Fetch? :("

[bella-goths-wife]

How the yandere Vs treat pet reader like an adult and child

Val, vox and velvette x platonic reader

Just a quick reminder that Vs pet died at the age of 18 and is technically an adult and has had adult experiences before she died but compared to everyone else in age shes much younger and they see her as a kid :)

Warnings: SA mentions, Vs sexualising pet reader, drugging, reader is uncomfortable, forced affection

How they treat you like a child:

You may have been legally an adult when you died, but that does not stop the Vs from infantilising you at any opportunity

You will have extremely strict rules put in place once they become obsessed with you, even if they regularly defy the rules themselves

You have a curfew that you must abide by and be back on the tower for, unless of course one of the Vs sent you to do something

You are rarely allowed to leave the tower alone, if you are given permission it’s most likely because one of the Vs need something doing or you’ve asked them when they are in a good mood

Your diet is also highly controlled by them, they choose how much you eat and what you are banned from eating

You have a strict dating ban, if they see you as much as smile at a demon with slight adoration your eyes then they will be killed or fired

This includes casual hookups too, your barely allowed any contact with other demons so you could imagine their anger if they found out you were having sex with someone

Your clothing is always chosen the night before by velvette and has to be pre approved by vox to make sure it isn’t too revealing

Your very rarely allowed time to yourself and your always somehow monitored by the Vs so friendships are off the table

You are not allowed to drink or do drugs by your own choice, they say your too young for it

They ignore the fact that you were a rave girl when you were alive and that you regularly drank and did many different drugs

Vox is the one who mostly upholds your rules, since he is the one who sees you in more of a surrogate daughter way compared to how velvette sees you as a pet and Valentino sees you as a toy/therapist

But the others can be just as infantilising

Velvette constantly treats you like you know nothing because of your age and Valentino pretends to ‘shield’ you away from any friendships with his workers because your too ‘innocent’ for them

If any of them caught you pursuing something outside of them then there would be very severe consequences

Especially if it were something that allowed you to act like an independent adult

How they treat you like an adult:

Even if you have a strict curfew set by vox, velvette and Valentino will command you to defy that curfew to accompany them to events or nights out

They mostly just bring you for entertainment purposes for themselves but sometimes they just want to not have to fetch their own drinks for the night

This drives vox crazy but the other two don’t really care and will continue to drag you away at a moments notice

You may not be allowed to leave the tower alone at all, but you can go pretty much anywhere as long as one of the Vs are with you

They’ve dragged you to bars, deals, strip clubs, anywhere you can think of

They excuse this by saying that your needed at all times so if they drag you to places that they previously forbade you from entering, it’s okay because they’re with you

Even though they have all placed a ban on you dating or having sex, Valentino has offered to get a lover for the night from one of his workers

You’ve always refused but that doesn’t stop him from offering when he’s in a good mood

He even once offered to let star in one of his films and claimed that you’d be a real hit but you declined and told vox immediately, Valentino got a very harsh scolding and beating for that one

They also make you edit the sounds for Valentino’s movies with your abilities but claimed that your much to young to be allowed to have sexual relationships

They don’t even recognise their own hypocrisy sometimes

Even if your wardrobe is pre approved by vox, sometimes for her own fun velvette will make you wear something revealing just so she can make vox angry

You could be totally uncomfortable but you’d still have to about your day with her in an outfit that showed off your chest and curves

Vox always puts his jacket on you when he sees you and demands that you go change, he also threatens anyone he sees checking you out or making sexual comments towards you

You aren’t allowed to drink or do any drugs, but they are all guilty of drugging you

Valentino always offers you mushrooms, molly or edibles if he’s having one because he finds your reactions funny whenever your desperate enough to accept

You’ve got quite a high tolerance because of how you participated when you were alive, so unfortunately you remember most of what happens to you during these times

When velvette gets bored or just has a very hectic day that she doesn’t think you can handle efficiently, she has drugged you with coke in various ways

She’d receive scoldings from vox but she’d quickly bring up that he’s guilty of similar crimes

Sometimes when vox finds himself being soft and wanting to have some type of father daughter affection with you, he’ll give you an edible without your knowledge to make you more pliable to his affection

All of them have slipped sleeping pills into your drink before to make you stop being rebellious and just go to sleep

You don’t understand how they can treat you like you are an innocent kid at one moment and then acknowledge your age but use it as a weapon against you

The Vs crave the control that these rules bring, they want to know that they have the final say on every aspect of your existence

No matter how they view their obsessions over you, you are theirs to treat or mistreat how they choose

They don’t care about your feelings, they care about what you can give them

Your a possession to them, something to make them laugh or something to hold after a lonely day

You are not in control, and that’s what they like most about this arrangement

Sometimes you wonder which would be better

For them to never acknowledge that your an adult and treat you like a child, or for them to acknowledge your age and have the option to sexualise your or exploit you at any given moment

But all you can do is sit and bark on command, like the mutt they’ve trained you to be

Your body isn’t your own, your soul isn’t your own, your appearance isn’t your own and your mind isn’t your own

And that’s what terrifies you most and what they crave most of all.

Tag list so far :)

@repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl

[2-dsimp]

I have a cat, who loves to just stare at me when I'm sleeping in the early morning since my cat wants food/attention. Often times I've woken up to the little brat face to face as my cat then meows at me for pets and breakfast.

I feel like Yujin is similar, in that if he was living/staying with his darling, like that y/n would wake up to see Yujin standing over their bed or even on top of them grinning widely, his face so close to y/n they can feel his breath on their cheek, as he just says "hi." Before cuddling or wanting attention and love, not letting his darling get up but also not letting them go back to sleep since he can now have their attention since his darling is awake.

『Featuring your Yandere Hacker being a sleep cock blocker』

————-;———-;———

Y/n: “mmh what are you? A wannabe insomnia demon? Get off you’re too heavy”

This man was literally staring down at you eyes unblinking as his body acted like a flesh blanket. covering you underneath his weight. At first it felt comforting but with his body heat rising it made you all clammy.

Yujin: “Nuh uh cmonn don’t be like that babycakes~ it’s such a beautiful day outside meaning it’s the perfect time for you to be showering me in attention”

Y/n: “You want attention? Then here go fetch!”

You momentarily struggled to grab ahold of a stray marshmellow plushie but managed and hurled it across the room. At first this was a desperate attempt to distract him so he could ease his weight off you but to your surprise it vanished entirely. You cracked your eyes open and became baffled. Seeing him happily bounding towards the plush. Taking it into his mouth before smugly straddling you once more as a satisfied purr rumbled from his chest.

Yujin: “Now was that so hard for you to do babe?”

————-;———-;———

The Hacker can be such a cheeky little shit I swear—

[yandere-kokeshi]

Can I get some poly yan TF-141 x male werewolf hybrid reader please?

Where he’s almost like their pet? And he’s like their scary dog privilege.

Or gn if you don’t write for male

— Yandere Poly TF-141 x male darling whose a werewolf hybrid

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about werewolf stuff, and name calling.

A/N: i’m always willing to write a male reader! It’s quite sad how underrated yandere x male reader fanfics are. Please enjoy <3!

Edit: I forgot to add the scary dog privilege part. So sorry!

Honestly, it’s been a while since they’ve been excited — your characteristics of strength and incredible features of a werewolf make their ego strike higher than it should be. They absolutely love your hybrid features, the tails & ears, the enhanced senses, and the obvious need for constant attention is what they love you more. 

Price and the others enjoy it when you listen to their commands, which at times they love to joke around with.

If and when you decide to transform into your ‘full form’, even in the field, all of them coo over you, especially Johnny. You can never be left alone, even at night. Price and Soap really enjoy it when they get to play with your fur and ears. It feels like literal heaven between their fingers. 

And let’s not forget about how all of them call you dog-based names. A lot of good boys, even pups, or puppy if they’re in a teasing mood. Bad boy is for certain occasions. 

All of them have their own ways of showing affection, which, most of them, are fairly touchy, especially if the timetables are closer to a full-moon, or you’ve recently turned. 

Soap literally treats you like a dog. Every chance he has, he’s rubbing your stomach, ears getting smooched on, jokingly pulling your tail, and praising you like no other. Chin scratches, and his thick accent turns into a scratchy baby voice when talking to you. 

As for Ghost, he loves playing fetch with you — easily throwing it long, watching you jump at it, before returning it. His voice commands you to sit and calls you a good boy when you listen. The type of guy also aggressively rubs your snout as a way of affection. 

As for Price, he enjoys having you rest in his office, either on the dog bed he specifically bought for you or under his desk, looking at you every now and again with loving eyes. 

Gaz finds it cute, but also suffocating as you sit on his lap; not realizing you’re too large for him. He’s gently laughing, patting your back at your large weight, it’s comforting. But also he can’t breathe. 

To be honest, they fucking love it on how protective you are of them. Seeing you grunt, eyes narrowing in annoyance, makes them chuckle. 

Chin scratches galore. No matter what, if you’re in your full form or not, they love to scratch your chin.

They always get surprised on seeing how close you are to other dogs, especially to larger breeds. Price chuckles whenever a dog randomly runs up as the two of you are jogging, immediately latching itself to you and not leaving your side. 

It’s not something you see every day that you find dead animals as a gift, and most would see it as disgusting, but to them, it’s a gift. Even though Gaz has gagged on multiple occasions when he sees the dead birds, he knows it's your way of affection.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Twst Kinks And Shit They Like To Do During Sex: Heartslabyul

Let's fucking go I've been wanting to do this for a while now. (Tws ahead of time in case I get some crazy kink going on one of the characters because.... yeah.... there might be some strange kinks in here that aren't common.... so.... idk) (I was gonna do sex positions, but then I realized I don't know any.....)

Riddle:

*sigh* As much as I hate to say it, he'd definitely have a mommy kink. Even if you're a dude or gn, he'd want to call you mommy so fucking bad.

He absolutely has to be on top during sex. He doesn't have to be dom, but he just has to be able to look down on you. He hates being on the bottom.

Trey:

Because I can't get it out of my head, but Trey has an oral kink. Like, anything oral, he's into. And after sex, he loves to help you brush your teeth. (Cause I can't get the stupid yandere thought out of my head of him brushing your teeth for you.)

Also, probably likes to keep snacks by the bed for after sex so that y'all have something nummie to munch on afterwards. He'd make them himself, and you'd always know which days he's gonna ask for sex based on what he bakes.

Cater:

I feel like he'd have a praise kink. Giving and receiving. I've just got this vibe I get from Cater that he's depressed and needs love, so I feel like he'd need praise during sex. (Not that he wouldn't be into degradation, just he'd only like giving for that)

Sex videos sex videos sex videos. All on his phone. He'll show them off to you when y'all are alone. You never even notice when he's recording, yet he gets the cleanest videos you've ever seen.

Ace:

Bro def has a degradation kink. Receiving or giving. He loves teasing and being teased, and I feel like he'd get such a hard on from being insulted by his lover. (idk if teasing falls into degredation, but imma say it does)

Also, I feel like he'd love hair pulling. If you pull his hair during sex, he will probably cum in the next few minutes, even if you don't even touch him. He just loves it when you pull his hair.

Deuce:

Hmmm.... He probably wouldn't admit it, but I feel like he's got a pet play kink. I know that seems far-fetched, but it's just a feeling. And I feel like he'd like to be the one being the pet. He'd get all the dog outfit shit he needed and sit like a good little boy for you.

Pfft- sorry. I just thought of something for this. Since Deuce is an athlete, I feel like he'd have a semi-size kink, but for muscles, y'know? But not really a kink, he just likes to show off his muscles during sex cause he thinks it's cool. I don't know if that makes sense, but I think it's a funny thought.

So yeah. I'll get the others out eventually. This one's really fun for me. No fucked up kinks yet. (though I really hate mommy and daddy kinks so.... Riddle's makes me uncomfy....)

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

"Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"

"Open your mouth for me baby"

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave?"

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing: Fyodor X Fem!Reader

Request: "HIIII I'm here for your September event ! God, I hope it's not too late and you'll take my request (and I hope you're having a good day). So I'll like 17, 1 and 5 with Fyodor. If it is possible a Fyodor... Not very nice, you know, a little psycho. OK it's weird, I hope you will accept T-T Have à great day !!" ◜By dear @concombre-2-mer ◞

Genre: Smut

Format: Fic

Warnings: Explicit smut, Porn with a plot, Orgasm denial, Yandere themes, Toxic relationship, Mean dom!Fyodor, Sub!Reader, French!Reader(Just pretend that you're French if you aren't lol), Lovesick!Reader,Heavy degrading, Praising, Slapping, Choking, Spitting, Dacryphilia, Fingering, Vaginal penetration, Pet names(Dear, Darling, etc), Name calling(Slut, whore, etc), Dirty talk, MDNI, Dark content dead dove do not eat

Word Count: 4.4K (I KNOW)

A/n: Ahhhh this took so long I am very, very sorry. Also, I hope I reach your expectations lol.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, a complicated, brilliant, dangerous man, with so many plans in his head.

You met him at a ball where your dad, the most powerful senator of France, was the host, and he was one of the VIP guests. The second your eyes caught a glimpse of the raven-haired man, your heart missed a beat. It wasn't just about his looks- although you could never overlook how attractive he was. It was the way he calmly witnessed everything and talked in a nice but also careful manner, or perhaps how he smiled elegantly while looking at other people blabbering, like he knew all their intentions inside out- which you found out later that he actually did; nothing can escape this mans sharp eyes.

Whatever the reason was, he had you fascinated by him from the very beginning.

You made the not-so-wise decision to approach him and start a casual conversation, which only made you more curious about this mysterious, fetching man. Your discussion that was supposed to be a short chit-chat lasted for hours, but it couldn't be any other way. You had the same interest, the same likes, the same taste in literature; it was nice having someone who understood what you were talking about and didn't look at their clock every ten seconds as company; nice, and rare.

When the party was over and Fyodor walked you to your room as the gentleman he was, he couldn't miss the hints of lust in your eyes, and how you were looking at him so desirably, hoping he would step inside the bedroom and spend the night with you; but all you got was a kiss goodbye on your cheek and a formal farewell.

That night you couldn't sleep. Between all the tossing and turnings, you thought about the ball. How you found the perfect guy, spent the whole event with him while others were laughing and drinking at the buffet, and how you got rejected in the end. Maybe he was just playing with you after all; just to get information about your father and to take advantage of you, like everybody else had done. He was never interested in you in the first place.

You were wrong.

Not about the information part. He did got the information he wanted through his intellectual methods and you carelessly gave it all away; but for the first time in his life, Fyodor found himself curious about someone, for reasons that weren't involved with his work. He didn't care about your father and his political status anymore, he wanted to know about you; which explained why your phone was ringing with an unknown number showing up on the screen the day after the event.

He asked you to give him a tour around the city and to accept his invitation to a lovely dinner as a thank you gift, and you accepted without giving it a second thought.

Nothing happened that night either.

You were frustrated. Everything was going great, he even smiled at your funny remarks a few times- actually, he was smiling the whole time, examining your expressions with a vague look on his face. But the second you arrived at your home, he was gone again, rejecting your offer to come inside for "a cup of coffee".

Who was this man? Why did he kept doing this? He was not someone you could read his mind easily, you had no idea what was going on through his head; all you knew was that you'd only known this man for two days, and you're already obsessed with him.

Given how many times he had humiliated you, it was stupid to accept his offer for another date the day after again, but you weren't really thinking anymore.

Just like that, you kept going on small dates with each other every night, and he kept refusing to come inside each time; but you were happy that you got to spend time with him; you could always open yourself on your fingers pretending that they're his afterwards. You could see a future for yourself with this man, living in a fancy house together. He would read to you when your head is on his lap, take a bubble bath with you in the bathtub, you could even get yourself a cat. A baby would be nice too, if Fyodor would be down for that...

Little did you know, you were digging yourself into a bottomless hole, which you'll never be getting out of.

Fyodor had the same thoughts as you.

You were so sweet, so kind and lovely. He liked it that you were actually smart, but lost all your senses when it came to him. You were sweetly stupid and it made his heart clench every time he had to drag his feet out of your alley to head back to his empty, cold apartment alone, but it was all part of his plan, and the only key to it was patience, because he needed to make you desperate, to the point that you would kneel and accept everything he tells you to, not needing to be told twice.

And it happened. You found yourself to be at Fyodor's beck and call, agreeing to his every word without putting much thought to it; Even when he asked you to run away with him.

You were skeptic of course; not enough to reject his offer, but you needed to hear him saying it was ok, it was the right thing to do. And he did, assuring you that your parents would never let you come with him if you tell them beforehand, that it's the only option you've got left and you will eventually visit them after a while.

How could you refuse when he was the one asking?

You didn't hear anything from your parents until a few days later, when the tragic accident of fire that had devoured the home of the great senator and the occupants alive got all over the news.

You haven't seen Fyodor for over one week.

Months have passed since the "accident" and your so called "get away", but things have gotten worse, if even changed slightly. You've been kept in a small apartment ever since, and haven't caught a glimpse of the sun for so long, not even through the windows.

Fyodor said it's for your own good, that people who killed your family are after your blood and you need to stay somewhere he can protect you, but you're not sure if sealing the windows are really related to that. You don't have a key to the apartment, even to the rooms; Fyodor has set many ground rules of things you should and should not do, and it's frustrating.

Your patience knows limits, and it might already be at it.

You're lying in front of the TV, with a bowl of ice cream in your hand, looking at some romantic movie in your own language. You watch the people laughing, dancing, making love, but the only thing you feel is one single emotion.

Envy

You're envious of other people. How they go on fancy dates and end up fucking in a public bathroom, while you haven't even kissed Fyodor yet. You don't have the faintest idea why he asked you to come with him in the first place. That's what Fyodor does to you, always keeping you in the dark and only coming back when he decides it's the right time.

Him, not you. Your opinion does not matter one single bit.

Sighing, you turn the TV off and put the empty bowl on the table. You're already way too depressed, you don't need to see other people's happiness and regret about your own choices.

But that's the problem. You don't regret anything. You don't regret taking Fyodor's hand when he offered you a dance at that part, you don't regret spending time with him and having wet dreams about him at nights, you don't regret agreeing to come to this place;

you even know that he was the one who slaughtered your entire family, but you decide not to think about anything other than him because sometimes, ignorance is a bliss.

As you lean back to the couch, you wonder where your boyfriend- if you can even refer to him as that, is right now. What might he be doing? Is he planning another murder? Is he on a date with another poor woman to manipulate her, use her and then just throw her away like she's worth nothing? Is he holding her hand and whispering sweet promises about the future to her?

Ah, you just remembered.

His hands.

Fyodor has long, skinny hands and stretched, pale fingers. You admire the way his veins lay bare under his skin when he holds a coffee mug or writes a letter. His nails are always cut shortly, exhibiting his smooth skin and how he takes care of them. His hands are cold, not at a shivering state but cold enough for you to offer him your gloves, or just hold them to warm them up.

God, you can't wait to hold his hands again, and to feel them inside you once he finally gets around to it.

Sliding your hand in your pants, you close your eyes and imagine how his fingers would curl up and massage your sweet spot, dragging pleasure outside of your cunt. Will he be gentle, taking his time, making love to you? Or is he the kind to be rough and would make you scream his name by the end of the night? It's your call, since this is all an illusion and he isn't actually here.

Fyodor hates masturbation. He told you that once you brought the topic up on one of your dates. He thinks that it's pathetic, useless, and offending to a person's partner, But Fyodor isn't here; it's only you and your pitiable moans filling the room.

You whisper his name as you scissor yourself open on fingers that are actually supposed to be his, but unfortunately, they're attached to the pathetic body of yours. Tears find their way out of the corner of your closed eyes, staining your cheeks, and you wish he was here to wipe them off your face, plant a kiss on your forehead and say how well you're doing for him.

I miss you so much, Fedya…

You feel getting closer to your orgasm as your fingers speed up, but the sensation isn't nice, not as much as it would be when he's the one helping you out; yet this is all you're going to get for now, so you shouldn't complain and just take it.

With a cry out of his name, you come. Arousal covers your fingers and you have no choice but to clean them up with your mouth. Your whole body stings and you just lie there, panting and half way through crying. What would he do if he was here? Would he scold you? Punish you? Or say something like...

"What are you doing?"

Until a few minutes ago, you thought that when he comes back, you'll jump into his arms, kiss his face over and over while telling him how much you've missed him, and that he should bring you along with him everywhere he goes; but now that he's actually here, you just want this to be a mirage.

It isn't.

You desperately open your eyes and tilt your head toward the doorway, only to look at the tall man standing there through your blurry vision.

Fyodor is as handsome and terrifying as ever. There's a bouquet of roses in his hand, and he's wearing his usual outfit, an Ushanka and a black cloak. Everything looks the same as ever, except for the look on his face.

You expect him to be angry, to shoot daggers your way; but through the violet shades of his penetrating eyes, you find another emotion; one that intimidates you more than his anger and sends shiver down your spin.

Disappointment.

You stay silent and keep staring at his figure with widened eyes. Fyodor doesn't scold you. After a few seconds, he slowly walks toward you and places the roses on the table, standing next to the couch.

"May I take a seat?"

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

"S-sure, do as you wish"

He calmly makes himself comfortable on the couch, while you nervously curl yourself up against your side. Feeling like you need to explain yourself, you want to say that it's not what it looks like, but you know you would only tie yourself up in knots. Besides, it's exactly what it looks like, and Fyodor isn't stupid.

With an expressionless face, he points at the flowers on the table.

"These are for you"

Roses are your favorite type of flowers. Sitting there with your legs crossed and your arms wrapped around your shins, you sense his thoughtful gesture to be a slap in the face. Guilt and fear makes your heart ache yet you don't have the guts to start crying again.

You didn't want him to come back. Not like this.

"Ah, thank you..."

He couldn't have heard you since you mumbled so quietly, but he's got sharp ears. You look unsure when you stretch your arms out to pick the flowers up, but when you sniff them, your face brightens up with delight.

"They are lovely"

"So, care to tell me why you were calling out for me like that?"

He's not going to let it slide, is he?

"Nothing. Where have you been?"

"Answering my question with another one? I see"

While you struggle to breath, he takes his Ushanka off and places it between you, and all you do is watching him carefully for a reason you're unaware of yourself, but he probably is, since he's a mine of information and knows every twist and turn of your brain.

"To answer your question, I could say I was tying up a few loose ends. But fill me in, dear; was I hallucinating earlier? Because, either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but words seem to have been erased from your mind and your tongue doesn't roll in your mouth as it did before. When he doesn't hear a response, he flashes you a pitying look and shakes his head.

"No comeback? You're not even denying it"

How long was he standing there anyway? Was he there from the beginning? Because god, if he was then you don't want to face him ever again.

"You know dear, I thought that we should wait until we were in a better place; but if you're so eager... I shouldn't keep you waiting for so long"

Ah, what?

When he catches you staring at him, like you're unable to believe your ears, he merely smirks; standing up and taking the direction to your bedroom.

"Aren't you coming, sweetheart?"

"I'm... coming..."

You don't have a clue of what is going on, still, you've waited for this moment from the year dot; you won't be letting it pass this easily.

As you enter the bedroom, the sight of Fyodor taking his cloak off catches your eye. He takes a peek at you from the corner of his eye, only to find you standing next to the wall awkwardly.

"What are you waiting for? Get undressed"

"...Ok"

Stripping out of your clothes, you feel slightly embarrassed when your whole body is exposed to him for the first time, and his eyes scanning you up and down are not exactly helping.

Fyodor pauses a little, like he wants to say something but he's not sure if he should; then looks you in the eye.

"Get on the bed"

You obediently listen to his demand and lie down on the bed, getting excited when he follows you to hover on top of you. He gently cup your cheek with his hand, and cracks a smile.

"I don't think I've ever told you how pretty your eyes are, Darling"

You blush at his sincere comment that gives you enough courage to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down a little so that your lips are only inches apart. The idea of you initiating the kiss doesn't even cross your mind; Fyodor is the one in charge and he has to have control over everything. Thankfully, he's kind enough to not push you away this time, playing along by attaching his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. And you kiss him back with so much desire and longing, like you did every night before going to sleep in your imaginations. You won't be doing that anymore, now that you have the real thing.

Not only Fyodor doesn't stop you when he senses your hands on his body, trying to unbutton his shirt, he even helps you out with some of them. You smile into the kiss when you feel a certain "something" pressing against your core, which doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"You sure get cocky, But I don't blame you dear; you certainly taste nice"

"Mhm... Touch me more, Fedya"

The mans face breaks into a mischievous grin. He places his hand on your collarbone, lightly rubbing it with his thumb.

"You want me to touch you more, Darling? Where do you want me to touch you?"

His hand roams down on your body, until it reaches to your boobs, And cups one of them.

"Here? or..."

You let his limb wander on your body, thrill taking over you as you anticipate where its destination might be. A soft moan skips your lips when he finally cups your womanhood, fingers teasing your clit.

"Maybe here? Hmm?"

"Fedya…"

"Yes, honey?"

You look at him with plead through your dewy eyes.

"Stop teasing and just give it to me, ok? I've been waiting for so long..."

Fyodor briefly examines your face and his small slowly fades away. You feel shaken by his sudden change of mood, wondering if you said something wrong.

"I will; but, do you think you deserve to be touched? You looked like you were having so much fun with your own hands back then"

As his gaze pierce through your soul, you find yourself to be in dire straits. Despite the position you're currently in, you know you should rack your brain and say something acceptable, or else you won't see the light at the end of the tunnel, or even tomorrow anymore.

"I'm... Really sorry about that... I guess I was just under so much pressure, you looked like you weren't attracted to me and you were gone for a quite amount of time... But It won't happen again, You have my word. I really am sorry"

As you wait for him to react to your genuine confession, his stare becomes more gentle, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips.

"I know you are Darling, I know you are"

His fingers lightly rub circles on your clit to make your mind go numb while he deeps his face in the place between the pillow and your ear, making you shiver every time his lips brush against your earlobe.

"Tell me y/n; which feels better? My hand or yours?"

You choke a moan out as his digits slide inside with the help of the arousal from your lewd activity earlier. They are longer than your fingers; longer, professional, and more importantly, they belong to him.

"Y-yours of course, Fedya"

"Good girl. That's what I thought"

Fyodor doesn't hurry anything. His moves are calculated, and with each shove, his fingertips hit just the right spot. As you whine and hold him closer, you think about something more exciting. When he can make you feel this good only using his fingers, god helps you when he unzips his pants and opens you up on his probably lengthy cock...

Which makes you brave enough to ask him, because if he fingers you for a little longer, you'll probably come and the chance to make him feel good will slip away from your hands.

"Fedya honey..."

"What is it, Love?"

"I need to feel you inside me"

His smile looks dazzling.

"Aren't I already inside you, dearest?"

"You know what I mean!"

Pulling his fingers out, you almost regret asking him to do so, but you try to comfort yourself since he's gonna stuff you with something better and you won't be feeling empty for long.

"Alright then; but first, open your mouth for me baby"

Deeming he probably wants to clean his digits up, you part your lips to help him out, but instead of fingers, he leans closer and abruptly spits in your mouth. You're stunned, but you still swallow it down your throat under the proud look in his eyes.

"So perfect for me, Myshka. Now, lie down and relax. Let me handle things from this point"

As if he wasn't already.

You can't believe your eyes when he uncovers his member from his pants. It's not the thickest cock, but the length is definitely quite something.

Fyodor smirks as he catches you staring. He adjusts himself on your entrance and casts an eye on your expression.

"Does my darling like what she sees?"

"Yeah..."

"I bet you'll like it more when I'm fucking your cunt"

Yeah, no shit.

With a bright groan, he pushes himself into your hole. Your pussy is slick enough to devour his dick, but also tight enough to send pleasure his way. He has a breather before thrusting in and out you, find the steady rhythm and the perfect place to hit inside, making your eyes roll at the back of your head.

While Fyodor does everything, holds you in place, sucks hickeys on your neck and rubs your right nipple with his fingers, all you do is whine, hug him tightly and hover your legs over his back. You would've felt disturbed by how cold his body was; but you don't feel troubled, not even the slightest bit. There is no way you would feel like that when he makes you feel so warm inside. Its not just about fucking- it's about him, coming back to you, to understand the pain you went through, and make the most memorable night as a reunion. In this cold bed, you find your body and your heart getting warmed up by this Russian man's love and affection.

Fyodor fastens his pace at plunging in your pussy, meanwhile his tongue rolls around on the sensitive spot on your neck. It's unbelievable how he knows your body like the back of his hand while this is the first time he gets to lay a hand on you. You don't know whether to moan at his cock pounding inside your tight cunt, or at how he doesn't stop marking you up as his belonging.

"A-ah... Fedya… I'm getting close..."

"I can feel it, love. C'mon darling, Come for me. Show me how much you like it when I make love to you"

His praises send you over the edge. You feel so close, this unholy feeling is so addictive and you never wanna let go. Your body is firing up, you start shaking and you're only a little away from your release; which you'll surely get there soon, with Fyodor whispering sweet things in your ear.

"You're doing so good, Milaya…"

"So pretty for me, sweetness"

"Come for me, baby"

"Come for me, beautiful"

"Come for me"

"Come for me"

"Come for me"

You are literally on the verge of breaking apart on his cock, one second away from releasing all over him and make a mess out of his lower abdomen. You close your eyes and ready to feel the orgasm wash over your stress and sorrow and make you complete again; but in a split second, you feel a tremendous amount of pain, due to the sudden emptiness of your hole.

You feel miserable when Fyodor's length leaves your orgasm undone, and when you open your eyes to know the reason, you're met with the emotion you were searching for not so long ago.

There's the anger and daggers he was saving from your stare, to let them appear at the right time.

Now.

"Do you think you deserve to come, y/n?"

All the warmth you were feeling a while ago, all the heat and certainty was gone; now it's only fear and pain, germinating in your heart, making your chest ache.

His look is dangerous. It's not just anger. It's everything. Fury, disappointment, disgust. For the first time since you met Fyodor, you feel so scared, to your fingertips.

His grip around your throat snaps you back into reality.

"I'm talking to you, slut. Do you think you deserve to come? After what you were doing on my couch, shamelessly touching yourself like some common whore?"

You don't say anything. You can't. You can't even breath. You can't even if he let's go of your throat. You just want to die.

"Ungrateful little bitch. You're so full of yourself. So needy and pathetic. It grosses me out. What do you want me to do? To treat you like the princess you are? To turn a blind eye to your scandalous behavior and make your every wish come true? You think you're still in your daddy's house?"

"N- no- no- I- no-"

His hand finally let's go of your throat, but just as you're about to gasp for breath, his palm lands on your cheek.

"Don't talk back to me. I didn't give you permission to talk yet"

You only stare at him with disbelief, unaware of the tears that have been falling from your eyes from the moment his attitude changed.

It was never about you.

Never about affirming you.

Never about comforting you.

From the very first moment Fyodor set foot in the house, he came to torture you.

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave, precious?"

He knew what you were doing. He has always known.

And yet, you love him with every inch of your soul. With every breath coming out of your lungs.

"Worthless woman. I should throw you out in the streets, where you belong to. You'll die eventually, if some guy doesn't rip your throat apart. Is that what you want, woman? You want freedom? Help yourself! Get out of my sight and never come back again"

"No! I'm sorry! I won't ever do that again! I promise- !- Please! Please- I swear- Please believe me, Fedya!"

Another slap, landing on your other cheek.

"Don't say my name with that filthy, disgusting mouth of yours. Know your place"

You don't say anything anymore. As he keeps stabbing you with heartbreaking words, you only sob and bite your bottom lip so that your whimpers wouldn't interrupt him.

Fyodor looks at your pathetic state, and clicks his tongue. He gets up and picks his clothes from the ground, shooting a warning glare at you.

"Now, I want to see you try to masturbate again"

And with that, he leaves you in the bed, shattered into pieces.

It will never be about you,

And you hate yourself for not hating this, until the day you die.

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

[jifanjiang0710]

Dinner with the Stellaron Hunters

yandere kafka x reader x yandere blade

“SILVER WOLF!”

Your fists start to hurt from all the pounding. She’s locked her door again. “Time for dinner!” She can definitely hear you. Whether she responds or not is her choice.

“Boss fight!” She yells back.

“Come downstairs quickly!” Scurrying down the flight of stairs, you stop at Blade’s room. An ominous reddish glow is emitting from under the door, reeking of death… or is it your imagination? You raise your hand to knock, before a voice from behind sends chills down your spine.

“What are you doing?”

Turning to meet his scowling visage, ever-unchanging (SW likened him to an NPC), you see Blade glaring down at you, and neither of you speak.

“…dinnertime.”

He slinks off.

You groan irritably. You do everything in this house. Thankfully, Kafka is already at the table.

After a quick scan of the seating, you heave a sigh of relief. There is a seat at the table between Kafka and Blade. Thank the aeons. As you head for the spot, Silver Wolf plops herself down onto the chair in all her glory, eyes not leaving the handheld console. You stare dumbfounded for a minute, partly at the audacity, the rest a growing conflict arising from within you.

The most vexing decision of the night: sitting next to Kafka, or Blade. Only one party can be sated, and the other will then shower you with the fruits of their displeasure for the rest of the night. Tread lightly in this delicate situation.

Choose Kafka, who lets her fingers glide up your thighs, particularly when you are drinking; who whispers vile things in your ear as you try to focus instead on the noises from Silver Wolf’s console; who sometimes holds a spoon to your mouth and expects you to say ahh...

Or choose Blade, who barely tries to hide his growing fascination with you at this point; whose fiery eyes bore into you carrying a heavy sort of intensity that cannot be described; who you know has no qualms about cornering Kafka’s favourite pet and finding out just what makes you so special to her.

The purple-haired woman notices your hesitance, chuckling breathily. She takes the initiative to beckon you over, with a single curl of her fingers. You trot towards her, deeming her, just for tonight, the lesser of two evils. Then you catch sight of his gaze. It’s a warning and a threat, all expressed within a single flash of the eyes.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“I- I….” You feel yourself starting to sweat at this minor conundrum. How can you defy a direct order from Kafka?

She sighs, evidently disappointed at your lack of decisiveness. “Oh, go on. I’m sure Bladie deserves you for just one night, with how long he has been eyeing up what’s mine.”

The tension builds, and you bite your tongue. That sentence was biting, indirectly instigating another cold war between both hunters. So, gathering up stray remnants of courage you take a seat next to him.

The atmosphere is even more strained.

“Ah…how is your hand?” You direct the question to the man sitting beside you, glare turning less pointed. “Has it healed?”

“Yeah,” SW says suddenly, accusatory. “How is your hand?”

He sighs, irked. “Still healing. Isn’t it obvious?” For it was still wrapped in bandages.

“Blade, our supply of bandages is depleting. The others need them too. Is it really necessary to cover your torso?” He can very well heal himself should the need arise, and any pretense on his part is to avoid having to game with Silver Wolf. Blade ignores you, as if you’d committed a crime against him personally.

Kafka is unusually quiet.

You chide Silver Wolf to finish off her broccoli.

“Oh dear. Little one?”

Her sudden shift of attention to you makes you jump. “Yes, Kafka?”

“Will you be a dear and run off to fetch a cloth for me? I seem to have spilt some soup onto my lap.”

Blade watches intently as you fuss over her, asking whether there are burns, if she is alright, and run off to pour another bowl for her.

His fists clench, tightening around the bowl. “That was intentional.”

“What an astute observation, Bladie. And do you keep your uninjured hand bandaged so my little one may continue clouding their pretty little head with concern for you?”

“They do not enjoy being toyed with, treated like the fragile doll you make them to be.”

“And they don’t seem to like treading on eggshells whenever you are in the vicinity either, or stared down in the way a rabid beast would reserve for its prey.”

“You think you are almighty, Kafka-”

“Oh, but I am. Everything I orchestrate, as I predict, shall come to fruition.”

“Just because you claim control over me, you will not be the most powerful, nor the most infallible. You know just as well as I do, Kafka, and even you cannot deny it. [Name] would be better off anywhere but with you.”

“And if Elio were to say otherwise? Will you continue deluding yourself in such pitiful manner?”

A sharp noise of a crack emanates as the bowl chips under his grip. “…very well.” Blade says, after a second of contemplation. He looks up at the woman opposite of him, the intensity of his gaze like piercing wind, “Let us ask Elio.”

Kafka does not answer, but the slight stiffen of her lower lip speaks volumes. She crosses her arms.

“Listen, Bladie-”

“Enough! Kafka, what did I say about commanding Blade? And Blade, that’s the third one you’ve broken this month. Please be more careful.” The two tear their gazes away from each other.

“My mistake, little one,” Kafka responds breathily, as though this matter were of minimal importance to her.

“I think I cut my finger from the shard,” says Blade.

You turn towards him, raising an eyebrow. He clears his throat, trying to appear innocuous. “…it hurts.”

“Do you need a bandage? You seem to have an abundance of it.” A petty remark by that woman, intent on having your attention solely focused on her.

He meets your eyes. “It still hurts.” On the surface, what with his deadpan expression, it sounds like a command, an order to tend to me. You hear it for what it really is, a plea for attention.

“Aw, fine. Give me your hand. Where does it hurt?”

Kafka’s turn to watch on as you examine his (supposedly) injured finger. You feel an odd sensation of impending doom…

“May I be excused?” Without giving you time to respond, the young gamer stands, tossing her plate into the sink and scampering upstairs once again. You look down and see that your own bowl has been piled suspiciously high with vegetables.

This girl… You sigh, but do not protest this time.

For the night, the Stellaron hunters disperse.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On a more wholesome note:

His phone buzzes. Fumbling a bit with the home screen, he swipes. It’s a message from Kafka.

That Woman: Kys

She receives a reply in return.

Bladie: One day I will.

‘I can only eagerly await that day’

‘As will I.’

‘You’re lying, Bladie~’

‘What.’

‘You no longer want to die, do you?’

‘Good night.’

‘Ah, don’t chicken out. They make you, for the first time in a long time, want to live. I can tell. You’re intrigued.’ ‘…’ ‘Hello?!’ ‘Leaving me on read again?’

He sets the phone down, sighing deeply.

The window shutters are half closed, swaying gently in the breeze. There is a dim starlight scattering the night sky. It reminds him of a home he had lost a long time ago. The wind picks up, blowing away a stray strand of hair off his shoulder.

He does not know how he got there, but his shadow looms over your room door. After some hesitation, he knocks.

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs ; captain caviar cookie

requested by ; stardust cookie anon (12/09/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; captain caviar cookie

outline ; “captain caviar yandere headcannons? :-) also can I be stardust cookie anon?”

warning(s) ; yandere captain caviar cookie, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, threats of physical violence, use of threats, stockholm syndrome

captain caviar cookie doesn’t care for the glitz and glamour and ‘proprieties’ of the republic and, as such, wouldn’t bother with the whole manipulation side of things with you — no, instead he makes good use of his physical strength and rough, semi isolated lifestyle to keep you under his thumb at all times

the moment his obsession with you began he knew he had to make you his and he made that clear to his crew, who agreed to go along with it even — they had to obey the captain, after all, and as long as he didn’t hurt you too badly they didn’t see the harm

so nobody intervened: nobody batted an eye when you were knocked clean out on the dock, hoisted over his shoulder and carried back onto his ship; nobody spoke up when he used some rope to tie you down onto a spare mattress he’d brought into his office so that you couldn’t run off and that you’d at least be comfortable when you were there; nobody complained when he had them hurry off to market to fetch some supplies for you in separate groups to avoid suspicion (extra fashions of food, a couple of books to keep you entertained, some changes of clothes, and even some clean rags for him to gag you with whilst they were at the port); nobody uttered a word when your friends and family came by looking for you to put up missing person posters all over the republic’s docks — only offering muttered sympathies as they got ready to depart

you weren’t harmed beyond the initial smothering and the captain had made sure you were safe and cared for, so they weren’t going to speak up — not unless he started to get abusive, but they knew their captain would never

so he got off scot-free and you got to spend the next few months of your life adrift at see surrounded by strangers who were obsessed with you at worst (the captain) or pitied your situation and tried to play nice at best (the crew)

to his credit, captain caviar cookie would never raise a hand to you unless he absolutely had to — and even then the furthest he’d go is picking you up and carrying you somewhere to calm down — but that doesn’t mean that he’s above threatening you with violence against yourself or your loved ones (he’s not a violent man by any means, but you don’t know that)

he doesn’t even know your name, calling you an endless string of pet names as he teases you and feeds you and adjusts your bindings so you can’t escape until they’re out on open water — then he’ll let you out to explore the ship on your own (so long as someone has eyes on you at all times, don’t want you getting hurt after all)

he’s incredibly touchy with you whether you want him to be or not: throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug, wrapping an arm around your waist or hugging you from behind whilst you watch the ocean, laying beside you in bed and holding you so tightly that you can’t leave, kissing the side of your face so roughly that you end up with pretty bad beard burn by the time you return to port, etc.

he does try and keep you happy as best he can: joking around with you (or trying to, at least), asking you about whatever you’re reading (and backing off when you ignore him), complimenting you randomly, telling tales about his time at sea in an attempt to impress you (and getting annoyed when you’re unaffected), etc.

the moment you complain about the cold he’s throwing his jacket over your shoulders, not accepting no for an answer and very sternly insisting that you’re not used to the sea and he’s not gonna let you get sick over your own stubbornness

he won’t let you off of the ship until he’s absolutely sure that you won’t try and run away, and even then he’s never letting you leave his sight — this can take upwards of several years depending on how stubborn you are, but eventually the stockholm syndrome will kick in and you’ll start to grow fond of your new life partner

and then he’ll bring you home to your family, playing the part of the hero and telling a tale describing what had ‘really’ happened to you — and by the end you’ll be coming back to the ship with him (it’s your home now, after all)

[wri0thesley]

disciplinarian - prosciutto x reader (3k)

you have made a mess of things - and prosciutto is not going to let that pass without punishment.

cw: yandere prosciutto. dubious-consent/non-consent (reader is well on the way to stockholm syndrome if not already there). afab reader referred to as 'spouse', no other gendered terms used. captive reader. spanking, exhibitionism, allusions to prosciutto using his stand on reader in the past. use of pet names, use of 'slut'. minors dni, not sfw.

[a/n: a fic in which a random number generator was allowed to choose some of my favourite kinks and characters for a little birthday event i did for myself! this one threw up 'prosciutto', 'impact play' and 'yandere!' it's been a while since i published jojo but oh, i could never forget about my love for One Old Man Mafioso!]

It’s your own fault. 

You stare at the ruined dinner and feel your breath start to come in short little pants; a tell-tale sign that you’re about to panic. About to start crying. You should have checked on it more often! You should have double-checked all of the temperatures, stayed in the kitchen instead of going into Prosciutto’s study to read and imagine you were somewhere else--

The front door swings open. Prosciutto’s voice, warmth seeping from every syllable, calls out into the hallway; 

“Tesoro? I’m home.”

That warmth will quickly dissipate when he sees what you’ve done. Even now, as he calls out your name once more, you can hear a mounting frustration; Prosciutto likes you to be ready to rush up to him when he comes home from work, peppering his cheek with kisses and chirping questions about his day, every inch the adoring little house spouse that he has mercilessly drilled you into becoming. You ought to be fussing over his jacket, stroking his cheek and telling him you missed him with heat in your cheeks - offering to fetch his slippers and a whisky for him to unwind with . . .

Instead, you are in the kitchen in front of ruined dinner, your apron a mess and tears rolling down your face as you face the facts; Prosciutto is not going to be happy with you. 

“There you are.” The mafioso’s voice has a sharp edge to it as a shadow falls across the doorway. You start guiltily, trying to hide the tray of burnt food from his ice blue gaze, but there’s no real escape from a man like Prosciutto. You know he’s seen it the moment that his elegant lip curls and his eyes flicker back to you. “ . . . Really. Is this how you greet your husband, amore mio?”

You want to bite back at him that he is no husband of yours - that it is hardly husbandly of him to have snatched you from your life and installed you into his like you are an asset to be owned and bossed about, a caricature of what a traditional man would expect from a spouse. It is hardly husbandly of him to have taught you to cook and clean and serve him by belt and by threat and by the strange power that he possesses that you hope never to experience again--

(You can still remember it, at night, when Prosciutto is still on a mission and you are alone - how it had felt to have your bones age and crack all rapidly at once, your skin sag from your frame, your heart to suddenly have years and years of use and wear piled upon it in what felt like moments. You never want to feel it again. You’d promised him, afterwards, tears still drying on your face, that you would be good from then on in.)

“I’m sorry,” your words all come out in a rush. “I-I didn’t mean to, Prosciutto. Amore. I--I just got distracted, it burnt, I’ll cook it all again--”

His expensive shoes (gotten for a bargain, or so he claimed, though you know that half of the boutiques in the city cower when he steps into them and rush to offer him staff discounts and anything he desires) squeak on the tiled kitchen floor as he steps closer to you. You force yourself to breathe. 

“And waste another day’s worth of ingredients?” He asks you, calmly. “Do you think I am made of money, amore mio?” The pet names are a deliberate choice - they serve only to make you even more frightened. He casts his eye over the spread again. “It’s good for nothing but the trash now. Tell me--” And then your chin is being grasped by hands that have murdered and killed and God knows what else. “What did my pretty little tesoro have to occupy their mind that was more important than being good and taking care of their husband, hmm?”

Your voice cracks.

“I-I’m sorry--”

“Not good enough,” he says, his voice still calm. Prosciutto is cool and calculated in all he does; he does not shout and rage at you. His quiet seething, his way of keeping his handsome face a visage of serenity even when he is doing depraved things, is far more frightening than anything else. “Come. Leave the food for later. I think you need a reminder of your place.”

Your breath catches. You know what he means by this, and as if your body is already protesting the coming punishment, you feel last week’s almost-healed bruises on your buttocks sting. And, too - because Prosciutto has trained you to be that way - you feel a heat low in your abdomen, a clenching of the part of you between your thighs that Prosciutto equally adores to torment. 

Prosciutto senses your hesitation and clicks his tongue at you, motioning towards the upstairs of the little home you two share (some holdover from his family connections, though it is not quite as well-maintained as it ought to be). 

“I’ll give you five more strikes for every moment you dawdle,” he says, and he gives you a smile not without a hint of his teeth. When you had first met Prosciutto, you had thought his overbite and the gap between his teeth handsome - now, you wonder if they are on display so often if only to warn you that this is a man who will bite if he is threatened.

You pass by him - and on cue, one of Prosciutto’s hands comes down and squeezes your ass as you walk, his hands strong, fingers digging hard into the plush of your rear. You whimper, and Prosciutto lets out a hiss of pleased breath through his teeth. 

“So soft,” he murmurs to you, slapping you on the rear now as if he is urging you to move faster. “Mm . . . as much of a shame as it is to punish you, tesoro, you’re such a very lovely canvas for the discipline.”

Despite your will, the compliment makes your insides clench once more. Heat gathering between your thighs in hot little shocks - there’s something about the clipped way that Prosciutto speaks that makes you want to get on your knees and do exactly as he says, even if you do hate him. Even if you do wish you were somebody else, somewhere else, away from here. 

(Hate is a difficult thing; you hate Prosciutto. You hate what he has done to you. But his fingers are clever and his mouth is tender and the frissons of danger being his give you are more of a lure than you’d like to admit. Even if you could escape, sometimes you fear that you are so thoroughly under his spell that you would miss him). 

He chuckles as if he can tell what you are thinking - his hands rest upon your hips as you walk, guiding you upstairs, the movement at once gentlemanly and possessive. Those are two things that the mafioso excels in. 

Prosciutto’s bedroom. 

He leaves you standing in the middle of the floor as he slowly, leisurely, crosses the room to sit upon the bed. You stand there for him, tension brewing, even as Prosciutto lets out a slow sigh and removes his ascot with elegant fingers. As he unbuttons his jacket and shrugs it off shoulders, showing the sculpted muscles of his scarred chest. You barely stop yourself from trembling. 

When the jacket is shed, he rests back upon the heels of his hands and looks at you with that handsome, disaffected air - mouth parted, eyes half-lidded. His command is simple. 

“Strip, and then come here and bend over.” 

Prosciutto likes you to look the part of his little spouse. You wear clothes that are well-made and prim and a little old-fashioned, with fiddly little buttons and awkward zippers that you sometimes need his help to get into in a morning. He offers you no such help now, as your fingers slip on the buttons and you miss the catch of the zipper three times from your clammy palms. He breathes out through his nose in a flare of irritation, and you make a squeal of apology as you finally manage to shed the last layer of your clothes and you stand before him in nothing but your underwear, white satin patterned with deep red roses that Prosciutto had picked out for you. He looks at you in satisfaction, noting the damp patch at your gusset.

“My underwear too, amore?” He likes it when you use pet names for him - when you call him ‘my love’ or ‘my soul’ or ‘husband’. He likes ‘Signore’, too, but he prefers that when the two of you are playing one of his favoured little roleplay games. Right now, he is a husband disciplining a wayward spouse, and he wouldn’t react well to it. You hope the little term of endearment softens him. 

“Just the top,” he decides, and you obediently reach behind yourself and unclip it with only a little difficulty. You feel your cheeks heat as Prosciutto looks at how your chest is released from the satiny cups, but manage to keep your composure. “Ah. How lucky I am to have such a pretty spouse, hmm?” He reaches forward, pinching one of your nipples roughly. A soft noise of surprise falls from your lips as he continues to pinch, twisting it just enough for it to edge the line between pleasure and pain, forcing the bud to pucker and stiffen beneath his ministrations. He repeats the process with the other, making you press your thighs unconsciously together. “Maybe I should use a cane on these, one of these days.”

“N-no, please,” you breathe out, but you’re already losing track of the thought of anything but Prosciutto’s fingers upon you. He chuckles, tugging at your nipples again. 

“Maybe some pretty jewelry, then?” He suggests. “One of my associates is very skilled with metals--”

You whine as he pinches just a touch too hard, and, satisfied, he lets go of the sensitive buds - stiff and already aching from a mixture of fear and arousal and the pressure he had exerted. 

“Very well,” he says in amusement. “Come bend over my lap and let me give you your punishment.”

You have no other choice, really - you arrange yourself exactly the way you know Prosciutto likes you, bent over his lap, your ass in the air. Your sore nipples uncomfortably rub against his slacks and the bedspread, and you know that they will chafe between both as you move with every hit of his hand or his belt or the hairbrush, chest swaying with the pressure--

His hand rests lightly on the curve of your ass. 

“You’ve been well-behaved other than today,” he muses aloud, rubbing warm circles onto the heated skin. The touch of his calloused palms on your soft ass sends more little electric shocks to that place between your thighs, satin sticking to the folds of your cunt. “Just my hand, hmm?” 

“Thank you, amore,” you say, automatically. For his mercy. He chuckles, rubs his thumb over the seam of your ass through the underwear and stops just before your sex. 

“No more than you deserve,” he says. “You’ll count, yes?” 

You nod, and Prosciutto seems satisfied enough with that. You hear the sound of his hand pulling back - the displacement of air as it whooshes back towards your ass, and then the calloused meat of his palm collides with your bare flesh. You cry out in surprise at the feeling, despite knowing it was coming. 

“One!” You say. “Th-thank you!”

He pauses, hand still upon your ass. Heat radiates from the spot he has just touched, like waves lapping upon a shore. 

“Thank you, what?” He asks, his voice dangerous - and you know it is a test. You take a great shuddering breath. 

“Thank you, carissimo--?”

You hope you have made the right choice - that the pet name will soften him and soothe him and remind him that he is your husband and you adore him (or, at least, you do because you know what is good for you). The question hangs in the air for a moment that feels like it lasts for an eternity, before Prosciutto lets out a grunt of pleasure. 

“You’re welcome. Don’t forget next time.”

So you don’t. 

You do not forget to count or to thank Prosciutto or to call him all of the sweet things you can think of; thank you carissimo, thank you caro, thank you amore, thank you mio re, mio amato--

And Prosciutto’s blows do not stop coming, each one slower and more lingering than the last. Palm slapping against your rear and thighs until you are all over sore, fingers digging into tenderised flesh, Prosciutto’s hand taking delight in the way you whimper and whine and your voice goes high and reedy as you reach seventeen, eighteen, nineteen . . .

At twenty, he leaves his hand upon your ass for a beat longer. Luxuriously and slowly slides it down, further than he had before - and laughs a little meanly as his fingers dip between your thighs, feeling just how wet your underwear is. 

“Oh, amore,” He breathes, in that damnably low and seductive voice. “You like being punished, don’t you?”

There is no real argument to what he’s saying. With every hit of his hand, you had felt those sparks and shocks that had resonated all through your body and landed squarely in your cunt, between your legs. With every number that had fallen from your mouth, you had felt yourself pump out more slick, until the satin was utterly saturated and it was a wonder you were not dripping all over the floor. 

“You’ve made a mess,” Prosciutto breathes against your ear. “Mm . . . I’m going to have to replace this nice lingerie. Do you know how much it cost?” 

“. . . I . . .’m sorry--”

“Oh,” another chuckle. “Don’t be. It’s nice to know what a little slut my pretty spouse is.”

“I’m not. . .”

“Ah. So you’re not desperate for me to do this?” He slowly, deliberately, presses his fingers against the seam of your sex, rubbing it through the satin. Against your will, a whine falls from your mouth - the pressure is perfect, his fingers so good against your heated core. “You’re not moaning like a bitch in heat?”

“Prosciutto . . .”

“You’re a very lucky little slut, at least.” Prosciutto’s fingers begin to rhythmically slide backwards and forwards, over your cunt - you whimper as he finds your clit, rubbing the satin against the swollen little nub in a way that makes you squirm and hot tears spring to your eyes. “I don’t mind that you’ve gotten off to me punishing you. In fact . . .”

He doesn’t bother to go beneath the fabric - just finds your clit, swollen and stiff through satin as thin as spider silk, and begins a rough, mean assault on it that has you gasping and panting. 

“I’ll even help you along.”

It’s too much. It’s all too much. The position - blood rushing to your head. The way that your ass aches and stings from his discipline, the way he’s practically trained you to get turned on by being hurt, the confusion that you feel about all of this . . . Sometimes you want nothing more than to be the thoughtless little whore of a spouse he wants you to be. Things would be so much easier, wouldn’t they? 

Your breath comes in short sharp pants as Prosciutto increases his speed, roughly circling your clit. You squirm hotly as the pressure follows suit. All of the feelings inside of you - the confusion and the heat and the arousal and the hate and everything else - all tangle together in your mind like old embroidery threads, a mess impossible to unravel--

Until they do. The threads are all suddenly pulled apart in different directions, and your insides explode in an orgasm that is partly pleasure and partly pain. Prosciutto’s fingers do not slow, hot hard circles that guide you over yet more hills and more peaks. You don’t know if it’s good or if it’s overwhelming, all of the sensations creeping up on you at once like ivy overtaking an old house. You sob out a dry, whimpering noise that makes Prosciutto sigh. 

He slows his fingers as the last ebbs and flows of your peak flow from your thighs to your feet to your fingertips and out of your body and lets you lay there limply upon him, breathing hard.

You are suddenly aware of every part of your body. 

Your underwear clings wetly and uncomfortably to your folds, the gusset utterly soaked from the painful orgasm that Prosciutto had wrung from you. Tear tracks are drying on your face, your ass aching from every spank of Prosciutto’s hand. Your nipples ache from how they had rubbed against the fabric of Prosciutto’s slacks with every body-shaking hit you had taken. 

“There,” Prosciutto says, pushing you off of him so you land in an ungainly sniffling heap on the floor. Beads of your arousal and release are streaming down your inner thighs. He acts as though what he’s done has had no effect upon him, though the stiff tent of his erection tells a different story. You will get that particular part of your punishment later, caged underneath the unending snap of his hips and snarl of his voice about what a good little thing you are, taking your husband’s cock like you were made to do. “Now. I think it’s dinner time, don’t you?”

You sniffle again and look up at him with beseeching eyes. 

“I-- I burnt dinner--”

“Well,” he says. “I suppose you’ll have to make it all again, won’t you?”

It’s almost a pardon. You nod frantically at him, and go to reach for your abandoned brassiere, your other clothes - only for Prosciutto to stand up and bring one well-heeled foot right down upon the pile of fabric.

“I don’t think you deserve those, tesoro. Do you?” 

“B-but . . . the window--”

He looks down at you with a glint in those deep blue eyes, a devilish smirk playing about his lips. 

“You should have thought about that before you made such a mess of things.” His eyes slide over your figure - your bare chest, your rapidly bruising thighs and ass, the thin and soaked excuse for underwear you’re currently wearing - and he sighs in satisfaction. “Don’t you dare close the curtains, amore mio. Maybe this will be another lesson for you.”

[sol-consort]

Illusive man has so much yandere potential my god-

He even has the AI spyware installed in your personal quarters, the captain's room.

He probably watches you sleep at night, like a creep while he does some other work or whatever, fucking love him.

God he spent so much money on you and probably gets off on the fact you're sleeping on the bed he bought you, wearing the clothes he picked for you, eating the food from the man he hired and flying in the ship he built specifically for you.

It's nor fat fetched to even think that he instructed your personal assistant to flirt with you because god fo they come off as super strong when you've just met them.

Weird power play? Sugar daddy with no sugar? A crush for superheros that grew into obsession? Who knows why he is the way he is or why his infatuation got him throwing money at your feet just to talk to you, keep tracks on you and constantly observe every detail he can.

Like at some point, it transcends being sexual and his very soul is fullfilled by your mere presence. You're like an exotic pet he has spent billions on for the perfect enclosure and bought you the best of toys to be your friends. Of course he doesn't care if you sleep with one of the crew, he hand picked them, not a single thing or person is on this ship without his deliberate approval.

And you keep talking to him, reporting to him after every good mission like a good little soldier. He keeps buying the right to call you Shepard instead of Commander, offering the highest of deals to match your prices a hundred times over. The right to send you messages constantly. The right to live as the biggest mystery you've ever know and like a curious rabbit you keep asking everyone he hires about him, and he keeps dangling that carrot of information just out of reach off your cute fingers.

He knows how it must frustrate you not to meet him one on one, not to be able to use your strong body to intimidate him, not be able to stare him down in real life. And the feeling of power it gives him to be sitting down on a chair while you're standing is so intoxicating.

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Deathly Galeslash(Pet-Like)

Sure! Here's another overprotective dragon for you all :)

Yandere! Deathly Galeslash Concept

Pairing: Animal/Pet-Like

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Deception, Trapping, Violence, Jealousy implied, Dubious/Forced companionship.

The Deathly Galeslash is a hybrid of the Deadly Nadder and the Stormcutter.

They are skilled in fighting and incredibly intelligent.

They are recommended for advanced riders due to their requirements.

They have high energy and only really trust riders who prove themselves.

But once they are trained... their bond is for life.

The wiki describes this dragon as "Elegant, determined, and lethal... deeply loyal, highly protective, immensely intelligent... a natural leader, powerful warrior, they use lethal force as a last resort and rely on keen traps."

This dragon resorts to intimidation and clever traps to get rid of foes.

A Deathly Galeslash no doubt can outsmart foes/rivals along with their own rider.

Once they trust their rider they love to play fetch due to their activity level.

They are fiercely loyal when you prove yourself to them... which you learn may not be the best in this case.

When they respect you, a Deathly Galeslash will never leave your side.

They'll protect you, only using lethal means when they feel it's required.

These dragons are actually really good at fooling people and dragons.

To protect their rider, your dragon may fool those around you.

Maybe to get rid of a person they don't like... they pretend you're injured and want the person to follow.

Only to lead them away and push them into a trap.

For dragons I can see your Galeslash leading them into weather the other dragon can't withstand.

If that doesn't work, they'll intimidate those they view as "rivals".

Then of course... if that doesn't work?

They have a fire type similar that of their parents... a destructive tornado of bright flame.

Imagine if your Galeslash began to suspect you "trying to leave them."

You know your dragon gets overly jealous and out of hand.

Said dragon is upset that their rider would betray their trust...

But they don't want to let you leave.

Those same traps and tricks are then used on you.

Your dragon wants to show you something or play a game... they begin to lead you away like all the rest, looking so distressed...

Only to abduct you and keep you all for themselves... away from all other humans and dragons.

[bluejayboi]

Daughter of Evil

This story is based on the Story of Evil series (No specific versions, just a hodge-podge of multiple). There are three songs in the trilogy, so I'm splitting this story into three sections. It’s based heavily on the plot of the songs but I deviated in a few ways. There aren’t as many quotes but there are some. Hope you all enjoy (＾▽＾)

Part 2: Servant of Evil

Part 3: Regret Message

TW: Yandere themes, kidnapping, and bratty yandere

Songs to listen to while reading:

Daughter of Evil- JubyPhonic, Kuraiinu, mothy  

Characters: Riliane (princess in the dress) and Allen (servant in the suit). Both characters are aged up to 19.

Once upon a time in a land so far away was an evil kingdom that no person dared to face. You have lived in this kingdom all your life. You had taken a job as a (butler/servant/maid) in Riliane’s castle. The job didn’t pay very well, but it gave you a roof over your head, enough meals for you to not go hungry, and enough money for you to live somewhat comfortably. You lived frugally, storing most of the money you earned in a hidden location on the outskirts of town. You always kept your head down, trying to avoid the attention of the tyrant Princess Riliane. She ruled with an iron fist. She had started ruling at the age of fourteen and never quite grew out of her immaturity and entitlement. You had heard the horror stories of what happened to other workers who had irked her and never wanted to meet that same fate. Unfortunately for you, her attention was unavoidable.

Something about you caught her eye. Maybe it was a particular attribute of yours that got her attention (an interesting hairstyle, exquisite eyes, a cute face, etc.). Maybe it was a certain talent you had (a beautiful singing voice, incredible artistry, a skilled craftsperson, an elaborate storyteller, etc.). Or maybe it was the way you acted (always gentle and kind to others, a strong force that people look up to, seemingly always calm and mysterious, etc.). Regardless of what it was, something about you caught her eye. She fell fast and she fell hard.

Being the greedy individual that she is, she wanted to possess you. She wanted to own you; add you to her collection of shiny baubles and prized possessions. She wanted to polish you up (she couldn’t let you go around looking like a peasant after all) and show you off. There wasn’t anything that this princess couldn’t have, so she sent the boy just like her, her right hand man, to fetch what she wanted.

She had her brother Allen get you for her; had him gather your few meaningful possessions from your servants quarters and escort you up to her room. Whether you go quietly or protest, the ending is the same; you’ll be locked up in her room and gawked at by the privileged princess.

In the beginning, you were like a glorified pet to her. She kept you in a gilded cage, keeping you locked up in some lush quarters right next to her own until the time came when she wanted to spend time with you (which was quite often). She would drag you along to various activities; forcing you to spend tea time with her, reading with her (with either you sitting on her lap or her sitting on yours), and more. She would give you trinkets and treats and other magnificent gifts in an attempt to buy your affections. She would bedeck you in silken outfits and glittering jewels and precious metals, claiming that no possession of hers is allowed to look anything less than magnificent.

One piece of jewelry that she gifted you stood out in particular. It may have been a brooch, a necklace, a pocket watch, or some other piece of finery. Regardless of what it was, the item was wrought of pure gold (since she loves the yellow hue of the metal) and with gems of your favorite color inlaid in it. There’s an image of a dove in flight decorating the metal. How you envied that bird. You longed to fly from this prison, to escape from this gilded cage you were locked in. Yet here you stayed.

Whenever you didn’t act the way she wanted you to, she would throw a tantrum. She would threaten you and the people you care about to get her way. And afterwards she would come crying to you about how she ‘hates being so mean to you’ but that she just wants you to love her back.

Riliane only lets herself and her brother see you at first. She’s incredibly jealous, worried that people might try to steal you away from her if they see how precious you are. She knew she could trust her brother with you though. 

Despite having a rocky start with him (due to him helping kidnap you), you and Allen actually form a pretty decent relationship. Despite his undying loyalty to his sister, he’s actually not that bad of a guy. He’s somewhat kind (despite his skewed morals), hardworking, and dotting. It’s nice to talk to him, since you don’t feel like you're walking on eggshells around him. He feels bad about keeping you here against your will but he refuses to let you go because you make his sister so happy. He cares a lot about you in a platonic way. You make his sister incredibly happy, so he loves you too. He sees you as a second sibling and a close friend. He’s able to trust you with things that he’s worried to bother his sister with. He goes out of his way to pamper you as a way to say sorry for keeping you here.

After a while, your resolve starts to break a bit. You give into the princess’ requests more easily, stop flinching at her touch, and she even sees you smiling more often. Riliane is overjoyed that you're accepting her more and begins to lighten up on you. She starts to treat you more like a partner than a pet. She respects your opinion much more than she did before but she’s still incredibly bratty and will pout or throw a fit if she has to compromise too much.

Riliane even eases up on her possessiveness a bit. She ‘allows’ you to make public appearances. Of course, you have to remain by her side the whole time. She loves ordering people to show you the proper respect that she feels you deserve, often chiming out “Now, kneel before us peasants”. And should anyone treat you in a way she doesn’t approve of, they will face a severe punishment. She once sent a man to receive thirty lashings for simply making eye contact and trying to talk to you. And if anyone so much as thinks of disrespecting or flirting with you, they’ll be dragged out of the palace in chains and sent to their execution. After all, anyone opposing her would be punished for their crime. And treating you in a way she didn’t approve of was a one way ticket to the chopping block.

She loves taking you out to show you off. She’ll get you all dolled up and dressed in the finest of clothes so that you can join her for tea time, sit in on her political meetings, or make an appearance before the kingdom. She also really enjoys taking you out horseback riding. She doesn’t let you ride on your own horse though. She expects you to ride on the back of Josephine, her prized horse, with her (it’s *totally* not so she has an excuse to have you hold onto her).

Riliane continues to buy you extravagant gifts. Anyone worthy of being her partner is obviously worthy of the finest things money could buy. She could buy the world no matter what the price may be, so simply ask her and she will get you whatever you want (in exchange for affection of course). If there wasn’t money for the tyrant left to spend, she would simply take it from her loyal subjects to no end. No request is too big for her to fulfill (unless you're asking for your freedom back)

She becomes a lot kinder with her affections too. Instead of forcing you to cuddle with her, she becomes more conscious of your boundaries and interests. She’ll look more into what you want. She’ll still be a brat about it, but she’s at least trying.

[kiame-sama]

Brood Mother- (Yandere!Gojo x Reader) pt 2

And this, Lovies, is what it is like when I hyperfixate on a topic. Also, suggest names for your curses in the comments if you would like.

Warnings; Yandere, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, manipulative behavior, jealous behavior, kidnapping (you had to be 'secured' by sorcerers so you were technically kidnapped), imprisonment (again, 'secured'/imprisoned same thing to them), female pronouned reader, motherly behavior, Gojo has no sense of personal space,

~~~~~~~~

You slowly awoke in a dimly lit room, the bed beneath you slightly moving as you raised your head. It took a moment for you to realize that you were not in your own bed, not even in your own room at all. The realization shocked you into full consciousness, feeling your heart begin to race as you looked around you wildly.

The bed you were on was in the center of a large cage in the center of a large room. Along the walls of the room there were at least three meters of empty space before the bars of the cage, the cage ceiling was a decent height above you and the ceiling of the room was beyond that. Everywhere along the bars were paper seals like the kind you would see decorating old shrines and knicknacks sold in fares or festivals.

There was a corner of your cage where a toilet stall and shower stall stood side by side, surrounded by wooden walls and accessible through curtains that covered the entrances. A smaller sized kotatsu sat on the other side of the cage, two sitting cushions on either side of it. A chest sat near the stalls and was the last piece of furniture in that room, leaving it feeling rather sparsely decorated.

As you glanced around your enclosure, you heard the sound of a sliding door open to your right followed by footsteps. Two men quietly entered the room, a pale man with white hair and a blindfold, and a tanned man with dark hair and sunglasses. You instinctually pulled the blanket covering you closer as if it would provide you any more protection from the men.

"Good to see you're awake," Greeted the white haired man, "starting to worry you were knocked out a bit too long."

"Where am I..? Who are you? Why am I- why am I in a cage?"

"Well, for starters, I am Gojo Satoru. I am a sorcerer and we noticed you have a unique ability, but we wanted to make sure you were safe to work with first."

"Safe to- what? What does that mean?"

"Do you know what curses are?"

"... Like the kind evil spirits put on people?"

"Yes and no. They are the accumulation of hateful thoughts and feelings left behind. People can have cursed energy as can weaponry, but most do not see curses. You should be able to see them, but someone tried to seal your cursed energy away and in a sense blinded you to curses as a whole."

"... I'm supposed to believe you?"

"It does sound quite far fetched, I'll admit, but I can prove it to you. All that needs to be done is to remove the seal on your cursed energy and you will be able to see them. I didn't want to do it while you were sleeping because you would have had quite the shock when you woke up!"

"Why?"

"Because, you seem to have gathered several 'pet' curses and they don't like leaving your side. Curses do not typically look very natural- the ones around you being slight exceptions- but they are still odd to see all of a sudden."

When he finished talking, the man held up his hand, his index and middle finger extended with the others curled. A sudden clicking sensation in your forehead startled you, your hand flashing up to touch the general location. Nothing felt different to the touch and the click sensation was only temporary, making you wonder just what the sensation was.

As you tried to figure out what happened motion near you drew your attention, a startled gasp filling your lungs at what you saw sitting on the bed with you. Four cat-sized beasts lay around you by your feet on the bed. They almost looked like normal animals before you looked closer at each of them. One was a black haired cat-like creature with a longer than normal muzzle and stockier legs, three black eyes arranged in a triangle formation. The second was a rabbit shaped being with patches of missing fur along the thin body, tail long like that of a dog and teeth far too sharp to be a prey animal. The third was a beast with a hair covered body like that of a primate, but the face of a snake with no eyes, scales covering the head and blending with the fur on the neck. The final one was a winged beast with the general shape of a crocodile, six chicken feet holding the long and fully feathered body up.

Each creature was unique and wholly unnatural in appearance, but you only felt hesitation upon seeing them where you expected fear. The creatures were not hostile towards you and almost seemed to be tame, one yawning cutely at you before cuddling against your leg.

"Those are curses. More specifically, they are your curses. These are the curses we found following you during your day-to-day life. Curses are not typically this docile nor do they look as natural as these do, hence the need to cage all of you."

"What are you going to do to us?"

"See if you will make a good sorcerer or ally to us against curses. Basically we are seeing if you are too dangerous to humans."

"But I would never hurt any-"

"So you say, but we can't take your word for it. I am going to be your teacher and guard. I will try to teach you how to control your cursed energy and see if you are as harmless as you say you are."

It was then the second man spoke up, his deep voice different from that of Gojo and slightly startling to you. You had mostly forgotten the man was even there to begin with.

"I am Principal Yaga. I run a school that trains sorcerers and helps deal with the curse populations around Japan. As Satoru has said, he will be the one you interact with most. Your cursed energy has proved to be infectious to an extent and he will be measuring the effect of your cursed energy. As you currently pose a threat of unknown type, you will be held in this containment cell until it is decided if you are dangerous to other humans or not. You have been provided clothes and they have been stored in the chest inside your cell. Satoru will be bringing you your meals and reporting your behavior back to me."

You couldn't even find your voice before Principal Yaga left without another word, leaving you and Gojo alone in the room together. Gojo approached a door you hadn't noticed earlier and unlocked it without using a key, closing and locking it behind him. He easily strode over to you and you scooted to the edge of your bed, warily watching the strange sorcerer as he sat down next to you.

"So," he started with a grin, leaning in close to you, "what should we start with?"

~~~~~~~~

A month had passed since you woke up in the strange room, having since been given electric tea-lights to brighten up the otherwise dimly lit room. Gojo had been fairly interested in chatting with you or just being around you, and he even got a TV brought in the cell for you. You actually started to look forward to his visits, just fine with talking to him or even letting some movie play on the TV while you two spent time together.

Your pet curses- all of whom you have now named- were very friendly towards Gojo and you appreciated their company as well, despite their strange appearances and vocalizations. Apparently they didn't need to eat and were content to roam the cell you all were confined to. Still, they rushed to greet Gojo every time he entered the cell for any reason.

"I'm back! I brought some souvenirs for us to snack on."

At the sound of Gojo's voice, your curses scrambled to stand, rushing the entrance to the cell to greet your warden with excited screeches and yowls.

"Hello again, Gojo-senpai."

"(Y/n)," he whined with an exaggerated sad expression, "I told you to call me Satoru!"

"Right, sorry, hello again, Satoru. Just find it hard to call my warden by their first name."

"Don't be such a downer about it, those old higher ups are in talk about letting you leave the cage at some point."

"Does that mean days from now or a year from now?"

"Eh, no idea. But it is better than execution!"

"I guess."

Satoru sat down next to you and held out his arms to the clamoring curses that had been jumping at his legs. They were quick to swarm him and he laughed as he let them push him down onto your bed, petting whichever was closest to either hand as they sought his attention. You just chuckled at his antics and watched the pile of creatures smother him with affection that he readily accepted and reciprocated to the creatures.

Unknown to you, Satoru was thrilled your cursed pets accepted him so readily, knowing you had grown fond of them and using that to make you more fond of him. He had been willingly prolonging his contact with you and your cursed energy, doing what he could to make you smile or react positively towards him. The more you smiled and talked with him, the more he began to realize that he didn't want to share you with anyone. Part of him didn't even want you to be released from your cell, happy to have you captive and all to himself. He had warned- threatened- all other sorcerers to keep their distance, Principal Yaga even agreeing to make approaching your room a punishable offence.

No matter if you were released from your cell or not, Satoru would no doubt be by your side regardless as a chaperone of sorts and to keep an eye on you. He constantly had you under his surveillance and he kept note of any food you responded positively towards, always asking you for preferences first. Anything he could do to make you more fond of him- minus leaving the cell- Satoru made sure to do. Your approval mattered an odd amount to him and he found himself letting his own mind stray to more perverse thoughts, imagining what owning you completely would be like.

"Hey, (y/n)."

You were brought out of your vague day dreaming of freedom to see that Satoru was face to face with you, close enough that you could likely feel his lips brush your own if he got any nearer. The proximity startled you slightly despite the fact that this was not the first time he had gotten so close to you. It made you wonder if that blindfold made it so he didn't realize how close he actually was to you. He laughed softly at your surprised gasp, those soft looking lips of his curling into a grin.

"Sorry, sorry. You seemed to be out of it."

"Gojo-"

"Satoru!"

"Satoru... What do your eyes look like?"

"Hm?"

"Well, usually people wear something over their eyes for a reason, like blindness, or a sensitivity to light, or even to cover up scars. I was just wondering what they look like, that's all."

Satoru grinned, head tilting ever so slightly to the left.

"Would you like to see?"

Without waiting for you to respond, he reached up, his hand lightly brushing your cheek as he raised it to his blindfold. He pulled it down around his neck, his hair falling over his eyes without the blindfold holding it up. After a moment he brushed the locks away and slowly opened his eyes.

You couldn't stop your soft gasp of wonder as you stared into the beautiful blue depths. It was as if every possible shade of blue was trapped within his eyes, crystal like and piercing in a way you didn't expect. With his hair down, you almost felt like you were seeing someone completely different from the man you had gotten to know. His face was youthful and lacked any hard lines, your eyes following the natural structure of his features down to his lips which almost seemed plumper than they had even moments ago.

"Wow..." You whispered in reverence, feeling your heart begin to flutter in your chest as you realized how attractive he actually was, "you're beautiful..."

His grin made the smallest of crinkles in the outer corners of his eyes, his smooth complexion making him look almost divine.

"I mean-" you quickly started, realizing what you said, "they are beautiful... Your eyes, I mean. Not to say you aren't good looking, I mean, you're also really handsome- I-"

You fumbled for words, flustered by the beautiful man in front of you and his very close proximity to your face. He raised a hand and cupped your cheek, silencing you immediately as he moved that small distance so you could feel his lips brush against your own. Your breath was hitching and stuttering now, finding yourself trapped within those impossible eyes.

"Beautiful, huh? You really think so?"

"Y-yes..."

"Want a closer look?"

"I-"

"Yes or no~"

Before you could answer, the door handle rattled and you looked away, breaking the intense gaze with Satoru. The man in question wanted to snarl and curse in frustration, but kept himself contained as he pulled his blindfold back up over his eyes. The door opened slowly and a middle-aged man with black hair and glasses cautiously peaked inside.

"G-G-Gojo-sama..."

"What is it, Ichiji?"

"Principal-sama would like to talk to you."

Satoru sighed and stood up, setting your pet curses down on your bed and began walking towards the door of your cell. Part of you felt frustrated that the moment was interrupted, and part of you felt relieved, not certain what your feelings were towards Satoru now. Certainly, he was extremely attractive and not to mention he had actually won you over as a friend before trying anything, even waiting for your permission to close the distance.

The man in question, however, was frustrated beyond all belief that the perfect chance to kiss you had been taken from him. He was beyond frustrated that anyone interrupted, let alone Ichiji for something like a meeting with Principal Yaga when he was almost always late to them. He swore he saw the gears turning in your mind, trying to process his proximity and his attention towards you. It seemed like you were even going to accept the invitation right before the jarring intrusion.

"Ichiji," he started, voice lowered to a murmur as he passed next to the other man, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder in clear warning, "expect a hard forehead flick after this."

"Ye-yes, Gojo-sama..."

[ein-liebloser-wanderer]

⸸ I am Here - Part One ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I made as many Abnormalities into male humanoids as possible. A lot of OOC and fanon are to be expected.)

Pairing: [Insert] x Nothing There

Warning: body horror, gore, and maybe an excessive use of human anatomical words

Description: When it first came to the facility, it looked just like an ordinary dog, much like Ppodae, so they classified it as TETH. But then, the first Agent fatality to it happened, and suddenly, it began to look more...humanoid in its body parts. Now identified as an ALEPH, the Manager now only sends the best, but not too valuable Agents to its containment unit. You were one of them.

Word Count: <2000

Inspired by the horror movie, 'The Thing', and a certain Anon's request.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When it first came into the facility, it had taken the form of a beautiful, Norwegian husky.

Everyone had assumed the new Abnormality was going to be like Ppodae. Adorable, seemingly harmless, but actually capable of causing serious damage.

But then, the first Agent working on it died.

John, who was the Agent sent to work on O-06-20 thereafter, witnessed and reported what the Abnormality did to its victims. The 'husky' was gnawing on the arm of the deceased, and not long after, a human arm sprouted from its head.

The Abnormality's classification was changed from TETH to ALEPH.

Agent [Name] feared working on the new Abnormality. After all, there was hardly anything known about it. No one knew why its Qlipoth dropped. The Agent's stats weren't exactly low, but it was understandably too low for an ALEPH.

In [Name]'s recent skills test, they passed the highest in Fortitude and Suppression, but their results for Temperament and Prudence were awful.

Overall, it wasn't...bad, but...they just hoped it wasn't Attachment work they will be sent to do for this creature.

But of course, it ended up being anything but what they hoped for.

When [Name] first saw O-06-20, it looked anything but what they expected it to based on previous work logs. The only semblance it had to a dog was the way it stood quadrupedally. But other than that, it looked nothing like a canine.

To put it simply, this creature shouldn't exist. Yet here it was, a grotesque patchwork of human body parts. Its mere existence made them want to gag.

The Thing tilted its...'head'...curiously. Its human tongue lolling out of its very human mouth like a dog. It even breathed like one.

Though it had not done anything threatening, [Name] was already terrified. Unlike their experience with other Abnormalities, they were able to maintain their resolve because they saw it for what it truly was. Meanwhile, this creature only showed what became of its victims. Simply put, no one knows what this thing truly looks like.

And they were supposed to befriend this thing?

Against their survival instincts, they kneeled on one leg.

"Hey there..." They looked at the 'dog,' wondering what it would prefer to be called. "...boy?"

They had already been expecting the worse to happen, but to their surprise, the dog thing barked. Or at least, the closest a human throat could produce the sound.

It ran across the room to leap at them before standing on its hind legs to lick their hands, arm, neck, and whatever it could reach.

They weren't going to lie, it was a very cute gesture, but it was easily ruined when they realized it was a human tongue licking them.

Keep calm, keep calm, they thought as they continued petting its 'head'. But since it had skin instead of fur, it was more like a forehead massage.

At least this Abnormality is like a dog...it should be easy enough to befriend, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next time they were called to work on O-06-20, [Name] thought it would be good to play fetch with the Abnormality. Of course, it wasn't like they had any wooden sticks lying around, so they had to make do with the facility's equipment; ballpens, pencils, plastic spoons, whatever they could collect a lot of.

And they were right. The Thing really enjoyed playing fetch. It had been wagging an intestine around—probably its 'tail'—non-stop ever since they entered the containment unit.

Soon enough, this became something of a routine for them. A fun little game that O-06-20 only got to play with the Agent. But it was pretty evident that the Thing had other interests. One day, it saw its reflection on a metal spoon and it stared.

It was...unnerving. For a moment, [Name] thought it was going to deprive itself of air since she stopped hearing it panting. It even pulled its tongue back into its mouth. Its face never looked so human until now.

"Buddy?"

The Agent walked towards the Abnormality. It was odd. They felt concerned, an emotion they never thought they would feel for an animalistic abomination.

O-06-20 began to whine, and it made [Name]'s heart crack. It really did sound like a puppy. They couldn't help but sit down beside their little buddy and pet it. Disgusting as it was, they couldn't ignore its pained cries.

For the first time, [Name] pulled the creature to lay its head on their lap. They didn't stop petting it until its crying stopped.

If this was all they had to do to keep O-06-20 happy, then they were more than happy with this arrangement. With time, they would get used to its appearance. They just need to keep thinking of it as a dog. An ugly, malformed, dangerous dog, but a cute one.

Of course, if containing an ALEPH-class was as easy as running a dog shelter, Lobotomy Corporation wouldn't have such a high death rate, wouldn't it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just the day after that, Agent [Name] was called to work on O-06-20 once again. It seemed like they became someone important when it came to handling the Abnormality.

But after that moment they had together, when they spent nearly an hour just sitting there on the ground, the thing calming down on their lap as they massaged its head, a...protective feeling of sorts began to sprout within them.

They didn't realize it was there until they realized how much they wanted to return to their little buddy's containment unit.

Is it still alright? Why did it suddenly cry like that, I wonder...did it hate how it looked?

Because of this new development in their relationship with the Abnormality, they were now skipping down the hallways. This was like having a pet. A disgusting and horrifying-looking one, but at least it genuinely bonded with people...unlike Ppodae.

Wait, O-06-20 is everything that Ppodae isn't.

That thought made them smile. They really didn't like that dog.

But their moment of happiness was short-lived. Because the moment the doors to O-06-20's containment unit opened, the first thing they saw was the color red.

The floors and walls had been painted into a grotesque artwork of blood. Shredded skin and clumps of hair was strewn about the unit like clothes in a changing room. It was as if the person that was once inside of them tore itself apart out of out frustration.

Their throat stung from the vomit, but [Name] swallowed it down.

It's fine. Everything is just fine. Haven't I seen plenty of this already? This is an ALEPH-class Abnormality, so of course this was inevitable.

But even knowing that, their legs still felt wobbly. Walking never became so terrifying...especially since tripping would mean falling into this bloodbath.

Amidst all of this, [Name] still had a job to do. Even though the smell burnt their throat, even though the tears in their eyes were becoming difficult to hold back, they must look for the Abnormality.

This could only mean two things. Either the creature wasn't here anymore, and people are already dying without much to their oblivion. Or...it is still here.

But why couldn't they see the little guy?

C r o a k .

[Name] snapped their attention to the pile of mangled flesh and torn bodies. What the hell was that?

C r o a k . . .

They nearly tripped as they clamored away from the mound. The Thing was there...but it no longer looked like their little buddy.

When a man emerged from the pile, [Name] should have felt relieved to see that someone survived. But there was just something unnaturally wrong to his movement.

For one thing, one of his feet was facing the wrong direction...yet he continued to walk as if he couldn't feel it. Now that they thought about it, they had seen the Abnormality break its bones countless times before, yet they didn't seem to react. So, was that popping from its fractured bones?

The 'Man' snapped towards them, as in literally snapped their neck just to look at them. Because of that reckless action, their neck was now bent at a painfully sharp angle, yet it didn't cease moving.

Their mind tried to recall everything they have ever read about the Abnormality. It used to look like a husky, but after the first Agent death within its containment, it suddenly grew an arm...Does this thing..?

Horrified by the revelation, the Agent looked at the door from the corner of their eye. Closed.

Damn it, they really won't let me leave until I finish what I came here for!

With every bit of courage they could muster, they faced their little buddy head on. It wasn't so little anymore...and it was undeniably more human looking now...but if it retained its doggy behavior even after it grew an arm, it should remember them...right?

It was now just a few feet from them. They wanted to run away from it, wanted to stay as far away as possible from 'him'. But that would be pointless. No matter what, they would be trapped here unless the Manager lets them go.

The 'Man' was now standing in front of him.

The Agent gulped. This close to him, they could see their bloodshot eyes, the fractured bone beneath the skin of their neck, and how deathly pale they were.

Because he is dead, they corrected themselves. And the thing simply wore their body.

They couldn't tell how it was feeling. Was he seeing them as a friend or foe? Do they even recognize me still? How much of my little buddy changed?

Are they still there?

"Hi there." They forced the corner of their lips to pull up. "Did you miss me...Buddy?"

As if recognizing the name, his eyes widened. Was he surprised that I still recognized him? they wondered.

They chuckled, but it was more of a nervous laugh. "Uhm...I see that you did a little wardrobe change here. But isn't this a little too...much?"

It was a pitiful attempt at humor. If the Abnormality was still just as smart as a dog, then it shouldn't be able to read their body language well. Otherwise, it would know just how terrified they were.

Would it kill me if I run away from it?

To counter their nervousness, they reached a hand towards the 'Man'. They had always touched the Abnormality as the dog creature, but in this form?

Changing their mind, they pulled back their hand when suddenly, he grabbed their wrist.

Whether they were doing it purposefully or not, his nails dug painfully into their flesh. He was holding onto it so firmly that it hurt just to move their arm.

The Agent closed their eyes, allowing the tears fall. They were going to die now, they were certain of it. Soon as they saw the mound of meat, their likelihood of survival had plummeted, and now, they were going to be the Abnormality's next outfit, food, or whatever it was the thing did to its kills.

The only thing they could wish for now was a quick, painless death. But—

Their eyes snapped open at the sensation of cracked lips touching their wrist. The 'Man' brought their hands close to them...so it could lick them.

Disgusted, they jumped up from the red trail their bloody tongue left behind, but as soon as his pale eyes met theirs, they froze.

The 'Man' then pulled them closer to him. They let him do it. What else could they do, really? They were too stunned, too frightened, too confused to understand him. And if they didn't understand him, how would they be able to suppress this situation?

Fortunately however, he only did it to continue what he was doing on the crook of their neck before nuzzling his way to their cheeks.

Although the tongue felt different...the gesture was familiar.

Ah...oh, god.

The realization crashed on them like a tidal wave.

Their little buddy didn't know how to act like a human.

~~~~~ End ~~~~~

.

.

I was supposed to write headcanons for Nothing There, but in the midst of my imaginations, I ended up being inspired to write a three-act tragedy about an Abnormality trying to be someone its Darling could love.

There is nothing overtly yandere about this yet, but that's because I'm not finished with Nothing There, quite yet.

Anyway, love, I thank you for reading this~

(If you are curious for more, Part II is out!)

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+

plaything 0/ ?? | part 1

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 0: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation.

summary: by luck, you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt, and powerful brats who just seem to hate you, and among them, a certain red-eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 0: you reject bakugou’s proposal to fuck in the dirty boys' washroom so he teaches you a lesson.

— navigation

wordcount. 2k+

a/n: hello !! so this is like a little introduction to my yandere! bully! bakugou series fic. there’s also going to a lot of other bnha character mentions but the main pairing will be w/ baku n reader. enjoy!

“bakugou, i don’t want to do this,” your voice is weak as you bite on your lower lip, trying to stop sinful moans from leaking out of your mouth. bakugo has you bent over the cold and wet sink counter, your chest pressed against the dirty marble while your skirt is flipped over your displaying your bare, perky round ass to his stalking eyes. “who are you calling bakugo?” he spanks your ass with force, making you lose your footing as your head bumps lightly against the mirror.

“sorry, master,” you answer barely above a whisper but it’s loud enough in the empty washroom for him to hear yet he makes you repeat yourself,

“what was that, brat? i couldn’t fucking hear you.” he spanks you again, his heavy hand coming in contact with your soft ass with ferocity sending you flying off your feet.

“i am sorry, master!” you exclaim a little loudly, hoping it would satisfy him. and it does. he scoffs crudely, ghosting his fingers over your pussy lips before dipping his large fingers between them and petting your dry hole. he plays with your cunt, stroking his fingers lovingly over your little pearl, gathering wetness as he slips one finger into your hole. pumping them in and out at a slow pace. he takes his time, building up your orgasm while laughing wickedly as you try to hold in your moans. his fingers inside your cunt increase their pace as your juices start dripping down to your thighs,

“you said you don’t want this?” while his right hand destroys your cunt, his other hand wraps around your small neck. grasping it lightly, making it harder for you to breathe. “why are you dripping everywhere like a slut? hm?”

he had pulled you aside from regular classes, declaring them boring as fuck and that he wanted to do something much better like; fucking you in the boys' washroom. you denied, you told him no. you wanted to attend the lesson and besides skipping with him wouldn’t be any good to you. he was not kind to you, he was a meanie. he still insisted; telling you it’s fine, he knows the material. he can just tutor you later. no harm done, see? see?

if there was anything you hated more than being stuck in the prestigious u.a. high where everyone seemed to be out for your blood was spending time with bakugo katsuki. and being with him alone was another nightmare. he hated you. you didn’t know why, he’d never say why. you just assumed it was because of that one time you accidentally spilled coffee on him or maybe it was just because you breathed. honestly, both seemed favorable in this situation.

after many failed attempts of convincing you to come with him, he gets fed up. he pulls out his phone and shoves it into your face. his screen displays pictures of you which he had taken before and the ones which you had sent him. they are all lewd shots. pictures of you sucking him off while looking into the camera with glassy eyes illuminated the screen and as you swiped right it changed to another with the same background, lighting, and angle but the only difference being that your face was now covered with his seed while you posed for the camera with an innocent smile.

a look deeper into his gallery and you find your nudes which bakugo had forced you to take. it was necessary for you to be naked with your tits and ass being visible, he also wanted to see your face and would never settle for anything else. he never settles for anything without your face in it, makes you take those shots again and again until he’s satisfied with the results. he saves them, all of them. even the ‘bad ones' have been screenshotted and saved onto his phone for his personal use. he never tells what he uses them for but you don’t need to hear it from him. you already know he’s jerking off to each one of them every night before he goes to sleep.

it’s funny, anyone could take a look at those pictures and find out they are not photos exchanged between lovers. your expressions- no matter how hard you try, you always end up looking like you want to cry. there’s fear in your eyes and it just doesn’t feel authentic. it looks forced. like someone had put a gun to your head while you sat and took them. and well, that’s not a far-fetched idea.

he promises these are for his eyes only, “no one else gets to you like this. you are mine.” his words exactly but when his friends also start staring at you with lust-ridden eyes, you can’t help but question his words.

he blackmails you into coming with him. threatening he’d leak those pictures all around the school if you didn’t come with him as if he hadn’t already. as if your compromising photos weren’t already saved in all of your classmates’ phones anyway. bakugo should give himself a pat on the back, he’s such a great actor!

“for someone who doesn’t want this,” his demeaning, rude voice pulls you back from the dreamland you were trying to escape to. he forces you nearer to your edge, tiny whimpers leave your lips accompanied with loud moans as his fingers brush deliciously against your sweet spot. your precious cunt greedily pulls him in deeper and deeper, inviting him graciously into your womb but unfortunately, his fingers aren’t that long. but you know what is?

“you sure are dripping like a whore.” with every whimper which leaves your supple lips, bakugo feels himself get harder. his pants tighten as a bulge starts straining against his expensive, pleated bottoms. the hand prettily choking your neck detaches itself leaving you inhaling puffs of air as he works his pants off his hips. as you hear the rattling of his belt coming undone, a loud cry enough to draw attention from others outside of the room leaves your throat.

it catches bakugo off guard but nonetheless helps him get even harder, he likes to make you cry and get off to it. “why are you crying, bitch? it’s not doing you any favors here.” his fingers rub against your swollen, little pearl while lining up his fat cock to your blinking hole. “please, bakugo, don’t. i will do anything, anything else. just not this, i’ve never done this before.” you sound pathetic. your voice breaking with every word you utter. big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks while you ugly cried. bakugo almost feels sorry.

but in all honesty, he really couldn't care less about you. all your whining and crying only incite him further as ruthless ideas to break you down flood his mind. the kindest so far being him taking you right here and now but, but a sudden flash of seeing you utterly broken and in misery flashed before his eyes and he couldn’t let go of it. he wanted to see you tremble much more than you were right now. he wanted to see you cry much more than you were crying right now. Maybe he did hate you, he always pushed you around like you were his little pet of some sort to prove a point- that he is better than you. he is superior, you must respect him. you should kiss the ground he walks on, you should let yourself be his little plaything. then maybe, he’ll let you loose? who knows, he might just get even more obsessed.

as he watches you cry beneath him, your pathetic whimpers reverberating off the marble walls, a wicked idea pops into his head. he pulls his dick away from your exposed hole instead, replacing it with his fingers like before. “fine, brat.” his voice is softer, it surprises you. was he not going to rape you after all? “just because you said anything.” there it is again, the edge in his voice that makes you regret what you said. now, you know he has something worse planned for you. but it’s too late, you can’t go against your word now. you said anything, get ready to do anything. “stop squirming, i’m trying to make you cum. god knows whether you can even do that for yourself.” you most definitely can.

"a bitch like you needs someone to do everything for her.” again, you are probably the most independent student in the whole school,

“am I right, princess?” you are so wrong. “yes, master.”

no matter how crude and humiliating his words were and how much you hated his voice, you still found yourself clenching around his fingers almost ripping them off. your cunt squeezed his digits tightly as the coil building in your stomach tightened. moans of his name echoed all over the room as you felt yourself come closer. bakugo was taking his time playing with you, drawing you out making your release painfully slow as a form of revenge. you begged for him to play with your little clit so you could achieve ecstasy but he was too petty. after minutes of agonizing you to the point, there were tears streaming down your face and drool escaping your lips, falling onto the wet counter. he finally decided to flick his finger against your hardened bud. rubbing tight circles, he played with it aimlessly until he felt the gush of wetness around his fingers and the high-pitched scream which left your mouth as you came. his other hand pumped his still-hard cock. he was still pissed that he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you but it was fine for now. he had something much brutal set up in his mind for his plaything, he was aware that what he was planning might completely destroy but he figured it was worth it. much better to have a mindless slave who lives to fulfill her master’s wishes anyway.

he lets go of you, backing away with his hard cock still out and aching for relief. the huge head blushed red and leaking with pre, too bad he won’t get to finish inside of you yet. you quickly walk away from him, bending forward to search for your discarded panties. bakugo grunts at the sight of your wet pussy presenting itself to him, riling him up even more than he already was. He wastes no time pumping his cock at the sight of your exposed bottom, gasp and groans of pleasure escaping his lips,

“oi, what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, catching you sliding your panties on your legs. you turn around to face him, face burning when you are met with him stroking his cock at your movements. your eyes almost can’t leave the sight of his leaking cock, hard and begging to be played with and as much as you to admit it; it lights a fire inside you.

“stop fucking staring, you’re making it worse,” he growls and you immediately turn your eyes to his face. he smirks, “what? do you want it now? too bad, it’s too late,” he taunts. his eyes trail your body, eyebrows furrowing when he looks down your legs. “who told you to wear them,” he points at your panties between your legs. you give him a confused look, “you’re not allowed to put them on. give them to me,” he commands and panic crosses your eyes. you hesitate for a moment, debating whether you should listen to him or not. his fists clench as he glares at you, sending shivers down your spine, “what are looking at! give!” he speaks louder this time in a demanding tone as if he was scolding a little child who had picked up something from his office. your fingers tremble as you reach out to give the pink fabric to him, “leave.” what? you look at him in confusion. your big, doe eyes racking fear and anxiety. you wait for him to laugh or make a sarcastic remark about how gullible you are but it never comes. instead, he wraps your cotton panties around his cock, right in front of you, and begins jerking himself off. you are disgusted and petrified by his shameless actions, “what are you standing here for? leave. remember you said anything?” yeah, so you did. and you regret it already.

your legs tremble as you walk towards the door, pushing it open and peaking your head to check for people in the hallway. once you find it empty you walk out to the outside before sparing one last glance inside the dirty washroom. you hope for bakugo to call out to you, call you back but all you see is him cumming thick ropes into your panties while his eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy. yeah, you weren’t getting those back.

with shame and defeat written all over your face, you make your back to your classroom. your face is heated with embarrassment and humiliation as you remember you are walking around practically naked just an accident away from flashing yourself to anyone who cares to see. for the better half of the day, you walk around tugging your skirt as low as it can get. you don’t see bakugo for the rest of the day as he leaves you alone but when you do catch his eyes for a second or two, the wicked grin stretching over his features is hard to miss. He knows exactly what he is doing.

just as the day is about to end, he walks behind you squeezing your bare ass from under your skirt managing a surprised shriek from you when you feel his warm palms caress your ass pervertedly, “cute.” he whispers in your ear before turning you around and pinning you the wall. his fingers slide up your thighs moving closer to your cunt. warm digits graze over your slit earning a gasp from you, “come over, I will tutor you on the subjects you missed.” he kisses your neck, “come just like this.” he spanks your ass lightly before he leaves you be. his words are absolute and you know better than to disobey him, all of this was happening because you disobeyed him. you gather your things and walk up to his dorm room dressed just as you were before: in your school shirt, blazer, skirt, and no panties just as he wants it. when you arrive in his room you are met with his entire friend group sitting there with their books and pencils out. kaminari, kirishima and sero are not as surprised to see you as you are to see them. they greet you with happy faces which you return with a light smile.

“hey,” bakugo says with a smirk, guiding you to sit between sero and kirishima. between them the two humongous men, you feel like a child. with kirishima being tall and muscular and Sero being tall, lean and surprisingly packing a few too, makes you feel like a dwarf. you feel small and tiny in their presence and they very much notice it, sending knowing looks to one another while bakugo tries to tutor you. you know something’s up.

not a lot of studying takes place as kirishima grows impatient and slides his hand under your skirt and settles it over your cunt, rubbing his fingers on your pussy lips, occasionally pressing them on your clit. sero flips your skirt displaying your naked cunt to peering eyes. kaminari whistles, “wow, she really wasn’t wearing anything the entire day,” he comments. with one hand, Kirishima captures your wrists behind your back and pushes you on his lap. sero holds your legs to prevent you from squirming around like a dead fish, trying to break free. “so who goes first?” kaminari asks, walking over to you and crouching at your level. kirishima holds tightly with him seated on bakugo’s bed, kaminari flashes you a charming smile before his fingers run to unbutton your t-shirt, pulling your tits out of your bra. he tugs on one of your nipples while kishima’s large digits tugs on another.

“obviously me, dumbass.” bakugo barks coming closer to you. tears prick at your eyes as you beg him to stop, you tell him you’re sorry and that you will never disobey him ever again but he’s too far gone. the other men in the room might feel a little shitty about what they were going to do but there is no remorse in bakugo’s eyes. he looks at you like a predator looks at his prey, stalking about to pounce at any given second, “shut up, whore. you asked for this.” tears break loose as kirishima starts spreading your legs on command. wandering fingers rubbing at your pussy, trying to get you ready are forced to stop as bakugo declares that it must hurt for you. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know you should have never said no to me right? be grateful for what’s being given to you, you’re our little plaything. a cute, little slut. you don’t get to say no,” his rough fingers grab at your jaw, prying it open as he spits in your mouth. “now just shut up and take our cocks, okay?” you cry out yes but he’s not satisfied. His hand strikes against your face, your cheek stings with burning hot pain as more tears leak out of your eyes. grabbing your face harshly, he lifts it up so you’re facing him, “okay?” he repeats. you calm your breath before answering him, fear and anxiety fucking you up in dread for what’s to come.

“yes, master,” you say in the most submissive voice you make out.

[angelamajiki]

May I request a wolf hybrid Yandere Mirio having a massive crush on Witch Y/N? Mirio kills witch hunters for Y/N. Mirio also....have a praise kink. Y/N praise him for getting her berries and thinks to make potions. But Y/N never knew about the killing....why she needs to know?

In your eyes, Mirio was just a little puppy in a giant wolf’s body. The sweet boy adored you, bringing you herbs, mushrooms, and the like for your potions during the day, whining and wiggling for a good scratch behind the ear in return. At night, he slept right outside your cottage doorstep, careful to guard his precious enchantress from the hunters of the night.

Mirio had soon staked his claim in the territory surrounding your home, ensuring that he snagged only the best spots for clear moonlight and outdoor rituals necessary for your spells. He drove out all the other animals and hybrids alike from the territory, even killing your familiar out of pure jealousy. Oh, how you mourned the death of your beloved animal, but not to worry, that’s why Mirio was here! He would be the best familiar you could ever wish for, infinitely better than some stupid cat that couldn't even ward off the poachers after your head. They made for tasty midnight snacks.

Anytime Mirio wasn’t out fetching your desired ingredients, he spent his time lazily sleeping by your side in the cottage, whimpering for your gentle pets, and poking his curious nose in all your wares and cauldrons. After finding your stack of spell books and ancient runes, he took it upon himself as your new familiar to learn all sorts of spells and potions to aid his alluring paramour in their witchy endeavors. Practicing while you were out in the late hours of the evening preparing moon water, he perfected potions he found would be useful to protect you and the home you created for the both of you. Your stores were always replenished before you came home in the wee hours of the morning, so you were none the wiser to his activities. After all, he couldn’t have you catching him slip a love potion into your afternoon tea, now could he?