#returning back to this blog after neglecting it... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

depravitycentral · 8 months

Text

Yandere! Tooru Oikawa General Profile

Yandere! Tooru Oikawa x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, mentions of stalking, non-consensual touching, mentions of non-con, possessiveness, mentions of murder, threats, one brief mention of eating/eating enough, extreme dependency, allusions to neglect, this one's a little sad because I think Tooru could only become yandere for someone he's known for quite a while like a friend, brief mentions of physical violence, manipulation, Tooru is mean to a fan so reminder to never meet your heroes, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10K

DARLING PROFILE:

Sweet

First and foremost, while Tooru deeply respects and loves Iwaizumi, his teammates and his often insulting banter with them, there’s nothing that melts his heart more than genuine compliments from those he cares about.

Of course, he’s used to women fawning over him; telling him how handsome he is, how talented he is, how wonderful and amazing and rich he is.

And it feels nice in the moment, making his ego swell and a smirk slip onto those pink lips of his, but Tooru wants more.

He wants real compliments, praise for things that are more personal, things that only a true companion could know about. He’s tired of false flattery, of people telling him such sweet words just to get close to him for his status, his wealth, his pretty face.

He wants someone who is kind just to be kind – someone who means what they say when they compliment others.

It makes his heart race in his chest, something about their sincerity making him freeze up when his darling tells him how dedicated and passionate he is for putting in so much effort into volleyball.

It makes his breath catch a bit when they smile and sigh and tell him how proud they are when he cuts off his practice early, so that he isn’t spending hours afterwards serving and hitting until he breaks down.

He wants a darling that will be sweet and feed his somewhat precarious ego, and he’ll eagerly return the favor. He’s pouring compliments on them left and right, drowning them in kind words designed to get them flustered and bashful and so fucking adorable.

He just finds it endearing, and it’s a nice break from the usual women he meets. His darling is different, special, perfect, after all.

Perceptive

Although time has helped Tooru become more comfortable with himself, he’s still a bit hesitant to show his true self to others.

He’s worn a persona for most of his adult life, even starting way back in high school – he’s charming and smooth, always acting happy and suave.

And for the most part, he doesn’t mind – but with a select few of his friends and close companions, the world doesn’t get to know the real Tooru Oikawa.

His darling, however, is one of the very few who are on this list – and having a perceptive darling would make him fall much, much quicker.

His darling needs to be someone who is capable of catching clues as to the man that lives behind the mask; the one that still doubts himself, the one who needs constant encouragement, the one who just needs to be wanted and loved and appreciated for his hard work and his actions.

His darling needs to be able to help slowly push past the façade that he’s crafted over the years, and while they don’t need to see everything, they need to be able to make Tooru feel comfortable enough to actually be himself.

Someone who is able to pick up on his emotions, even when they aren’t terribly obvious, would be immensely attractive to him. It makes him feel seen and heard in a way that’s difficult to come by as a famous athlete, and the moment his darling showcases this ability, it’s only a matter of time before Tooru’s feelings are developing in full force.

It’s just refreshing to not have to pretend to be someone he isn’t – he’s just Tooru, not Oikawa the athlete.

It only further proves to him that his darling is made for him – they’re able to read and understand him like most people don’t, and what other possible sign could there be that they’re perfect for one another?

Honest

While Tooru’s darling must be kind, they must also be someone who isn’t afraid to tell him the truth.

All the women he meets in his daily life want to use him – whether it be his money, his fame, his looks, very few are honest about their intentions with him.

And while it makes him feel good to be wanted by so many people, Tooru often finds himself exhausted from all the effort and analysis he must undergo in order to really understand someone’s intentions.

And so, a darling that’s upfront about how they’re feeling and what they want is very, very attractive to him.

He tends to overthink and hyperfixate on things, and having a darling who leaves nothing unanswered calms his anxiety monumentally.

He doesn’t have to guess with them – he knows he can trust their word, that they won’t easily lie to him, that what they’re saying is exactly what they’re thinking.

It makes his heart flutter when they tell him that his hair looks good today, or when they tell him that they want to catch lunch sometime and hear about his latest game.

It makes him feel wanted and understood in a way that’s rare in his daily life, only furthering his obsession and fixation on his darling.

Calm

Tooru can be a bit childish. Even well into his twenties, this still rings true – he gets jealous easily and feels challenged by small comments and doubts of his ability.

His anger can get easily sparked by the right person, and having a darling that balances out these characteristics is a necessity for him.

A calmer darling helps keep him grounded, making sure that he keeps his head and doesn’t make any rash decisions.

They act as a sort of grounding rock for him – they’re able to bring him back to Earth with just a few words and a light touch to his shoulder, reminding him that some things aren’t worth his time or effort.

It’s useful, of course, but Tooru also finds it incredibly attractive when his darling is able to handle situations calmly on their own – he likes how confident they seem, how they’re able to logically think their way through a situation and not allow their emotions to get the better of them.

It’s awe-inspiring, if he’s being honest, and with every situation and interaction they successfully navigate with a smile and an even tone, Tooru only finds himself growing more and more impressed, becoming more and more interested in them until eventually it becomes all too much, their calm nature becoming something he grows dependent on in order to regulate himself.

Having his darling around becomes a necessity rather than simply a pleasure – and thus, his dependency is born, his reliance on his darling becoming one of the main facets of his obsession.

How lucky for his beloved.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Possessive

It’s no secret that Tooru has never had to seriously work to get women. He’s attractive, a professional athlete, wealthy, famous – all in all, he’s a catch to countless fans, any of whom would be more than willing to be his partner.

And while he’s dated around, had a few serious boyfriends and girlfriends, he’s never really found the one.

For a long time, he seriously wondered if there was something wrong with him; he’s nearly 30, meeting countless new people everyday, going on dates every weekend with someone new, and he still hasn’t found a worthwhile connection with anyone long term. So why have all his friends begun slipping pretty rings onto their partners’ fingers, inviting him with a too-wide smile to attend their new house-warming party, or even posting a baby bump photo with far too many emojis?

He’s skeptical, and so while his confidence in his attractiveness doesn’t diminish by any means, Tooru slowly becomes less convinced that he’ll end up with a long term partner, a spouse, anything beyond a summer fling or a good, few month spark.

However, once his feelings for you develop, a sudden ray of hope is placed into his life. Suddenly, the prospect of dying alone doesn’t seem as imminent – how can it be, when you’re around?

How can he feel sad about his future when you’re so sweet and smart and pretty and god, that fucking smile –

He’s fallen head over heels before he even knows it, and while he exists in a somewhat honeymoon state for a while after the realization of his feelings, full of longing and dreamy smiles with red tinged cheeks and erratic heartbeats when he lays his eyes on you, quickly other feelings accompany. Ugly, disgusting feelings that Tooru hasn’t felt to such extreme degrees since high school, and never in the context of romance.

Namely, every time he sees you out in public, the adoration for the way the sunlight reflects off your hair is diminished by the coursing jealousy in his veins as he watches other men ogle you.

When he’s got you laughing at some joke he’s telling over your weekly lunch, he can’t fully enjoy the lilting sound because that damn waiter keeps coming back and asking if you want water, his body way too fucking close to you to be truly professional.

He’s suddenly acutely aware of just how beautiful and stunning you are, and how much male attention that gives you. He doesn’t blame you – no, of course not – because you’re simply perfect, and how are you supposed to know everyone wants a bite of you? No, Tooru sees you as much more helpless than that; you’re naïve, and it’s really only a matter of time before another man attempts to steal you away from him.

He knows it’s inevitable that you’ll be approached by someone else, and while they probably won’t be as handsome, wealthy, or athletically gifted as Tooru is, would you be swayed?

Is it possible that another man could win your heart, even with the setter right there in front of you all but begging for your adoration and love?

As time passes, Tooru slowly begins believing that it absolutely could happen, that any day now you could be pried away from his iron clad grip, no matter how hard he fights it. And so, he more or less panics.

He’s never really had to worry about keeping girls before, and how does it even work?

What should he do?

What should he say?

How short a leash is too short to keep you on?

He’s lost, quite frankly, and extremely embarrassed about it, because only immature, insecure men get jealous over their partner. Only men not confident in themselves panic over the thought of their beloved leaving them, and Tooru hasn’t felt crippling insecurity like this in years.

And yet, just one thought of you smiling in the direction of another man has him gritting his teeth, his arms flexing as his nails dig deeply into his fisted palms.

And so, Tooru decides that to keep you his, he’ll just have to show the world – through extravagant gifts, of course.

Suddenly there are bouquets of flowers arriving for you nearly everywhere you go – you wake up to deliveries at 8:00 sharp, a bouquet of sunflowers with a small note written in looping letters as these flowers grew, so did my dedication to you.

Necklaces with chains you’re fairly sure are made of real silver have the initial T and O engraved into them, winding around a heart and what almost appears to be a knife, though you’re not sure. Anklets, too, arrive, with sayings like angel or darling (one even featured babygirl, though you were quick to throw that particular piece of jewelry to the back of your closet, half amused at the – presumably – joke, half disturbed at the prospect of his sincerity).

You’re not sure who these gifts are coming from initially; you don’t know anything off the top of your head that would do something like this, until very suddenly it all clicks – the way Tooru looks so smug when you receive flowers while you’re out at lunch with him, the tulips your favorite color while the delivery man reads off the card Tooru had instructed him to. It pieces together when you see him sign legal forms or checks, that familiar signature and those initials jogging your memory. You only put the pieces together after Tooru’s need for your focused attention grows to new heights – physical touchiness, particularly in public spaces.

He’s always been clingy as a friend, but suddenly his hand is always at your waist, fingertips pressing in too tight for comfort.

He’s always liked hugs, but now his hugs feel strangely intimate; he’s pressing against you, burying his nose into your neck and audibly inhaling, a sigh falling from his lips as he periodically squeezes your body in his arms.

His hand is resting at the small of your back when you’re standing next to him, a steady palm to guide you through crowded spaces – though sometimes he ‘forgets what he’s doing’, as he tells you, and his hand ends up cradling the curve of your hip, dipping down to the flat of your tailbone, or jumping up and almost seeming to lightly, oh so airily trace the outline of your bra straps through your top.

(He hasn’t quite mustered up the courage to actually grope you in public, if only because he’s scared that you’ll be put off by him, and although he deeply, desperately wishes to touch you in such an intimate way, he’s a bit nervous that once he begins, he’ll never be able to stop.)

The physical affection grows extreme, his hands never leaving your body, reaching the point where it’s difficult to simply explain it away as platonic, as Tooru just being Tooru.

And yet, when you bring it up to him, those brown eyes go all wide, his mouth tilting down into a frown as he tells you he’s sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! If you want I won’t touch you at all, I’d never want you to be unhappy around me; although, haven’t you noticed how all those creeps that used to hit on you don’t bug you anymore when I’m with you? Maybe it’s a good thing – I can be your hero and keep all the freaks away from you!

(The sincerity and conviction in the pouting of his lip and the creasing of his brow will have you swaying immediately, merely brushing off his words as being an attempt at humor rather than the truth.)

He’s not trying to be purposefully manipulative, but the words are falling out of his mouth before he can stop it, your face slowly changing as you consider his point, slowly nodding and smiling lightly, telling him he’s absolutely right, thank you Tooru, I don’t know what I’d do without you.

And just the sound of his name alone has him doubling down, touching you more, his possessive streak only growing exponentially with every permission you give to his tendencies, with every smile and giggle and fleeting touch.

How can he be expected to control himself when you look at him like that, all doe eyes and beaming smile and fuck, your hand is on his chest, if you’d just slide it down ever so slightly, following the thin line of dark brown hair you’d find a place that really, truly can’t resist you. God knows he’s tried.

Obsessive

Tooru’s always had a tendency to hyperfixate.

He’s a bit of a perfectionist, wanting to become the master at whatever he chooses to invest his time in, and once his feelings for you solidify, you are suddenly at the top of the list, very narrowly beating out volleyball.

Suddenly, Tooru finds himself yearning to learn every bit of information about you he can, every scrap feeling precious no matter how insignificant.

Sure, maybe it’s not the most important thing, but knowing how you like your toast makes his chest swell with pride.

(Do you like it lightly toasted? Darkly toasted? With butter? With jam? With peanut butter? With or without the crusts? It’s all important, so that one day when he’s routinely surprisingly you with breakfast in bed you’ll smile at him and exclaim how it’s just so perfect, giving him a soft, loving kiss and feeding him a bit of the toast, wiping away the jam from the corner of his jaw and licking it off your thumb, telling him to join you in bed because it’s so big and lonely without him and you’d been dreaming of you, Tooru, and you’ll never guess what we were doing…)

He’ll admit that maybe knowing the order you get dressed in the morning isn’t the most imperative piece of your daily life, but he’ll still recite the order in his head every night as he lays in his bed, staring at the ceiling and imagining if your routine to get undressed is the same.

He’s not picky with the information he learns, approaching every opportunity with enthusiasm, excitement, and a disturbing amount of eagerness.

And the way he goes about collecting this information isn’t limited, either – he’s not particularly partial to stalking you, if only because he’d rather you be acknowledging him and aware of his company, and because it’s difficult to simply blend in as a well-known athlete.

Rather, he falls back on some equally morally gray methods – it’s not hard to get his hands on a few for-hire personal hackers, his money spreading like water as he gets into every internet browser you’ve ever used, the history in every app you frequent, your camera roll, your documents, your notes apps and reminders.

Hell, even your settings are at his fingertips, eager brown eyes flicking through the different ways you have your backgrounds, profiles pictures, even the way you group your apps.

It’s all so interesting, his thumb endlessly scrolling through the information over and over until time starts to blur, four hours having passed without him even noticing.

He’s pouring through your watch history on all your favorite streaming platforms, compulsively watching your most viewed shows and movies over and over until he can nearly recite every line, eagerness and excitement lacing his voice with every word that leaves his mouth.

He’s analyzing anything he can get his fingers on, endlessly fascinated and entertained by anything and everything that even remotely pertains to you. You’re like some drug he’s found himself addicted to, his body physically craving you, the desire to always be thinking of you and with you nearly suffocating.

But he’s a busy man, and he doesn’t want to scare you off, so he can’t just constantly be around you, constantly following you or pressing for your attention – it would scare you, he’s sure, so he settles for almost living vicariously through you.

By watching your favorite shows and looking at your search histories, it’s almost like he’s next to you, like he’s spending time with you, like he’s an active part of your life. It’s almost like you’re together, the thing he yearns for more than anything.

And even once you’re under his roof, stolen and kept soundly by his side, Tooru’s obsessive tendencies don’t disappear – now that you know, now that you’re aware of the depth of his infatuation, why should he bother hiding just how much he knows about you?

Why should he take the time and effort to mask just how expansive his knowledge on you goes? Sure, it may scare you a bit, but he simply can’t hold himself back anymore – you have to let him show you just how dedicated he is to you.

You must let him cook you your favorite meals (perfectly done, even strange flavor combinations you don’t remember mentioning to him), let him rub your back (with that one exact movement he knows you love), let him play music for you (your favorite songs, of course), and let him buy new clothes for you (they’re the perfect sizes, your favorite colors, your favorite styles).

He just wants to please you, to get you looking at him with admiration, fondness, joy, and he’s willing to put every scrap of information he’s gleaned about you to use.

He wants to spoil you and make you the happiest you’ve ever been, all so you’ll smile at him and compliment him, so that you’ll praise him and kiss him and tell him that he’s perfect, you’re everything I could ever want Tooru.

He craves your validation, so please, please let him please you – let him stare at you for hours at a time, taking in every detail of your face, every mannerism of your movements, every inflection of your voice.

It makes him happy, makes him feel needed, wanted, like he’s actually contributing something, like he's treating you like a good, loving, loyal man – please, let yourself need him.

Because he needs you more than you could ever know.

Clingy

Of course, while Tooru’s jealousy and obsessiveness regarding you is certainly not an easy load to bear, by far the hardest part of being the center of his devotion is the touching.

He’s always been clingy, even back before his feelings for you had developed – as friends, he was texting you near constantly, all kinds of stupid videos and jokes making your phone light up with notifications at the most inconvenient times.

He’s always been physically affectionate with you, whether it be hugs or ruffling your hair or lighthearted shoves, the actions never feeling forced or unnatural or strange. But once his feelings develop, things change.

The clinginess doesn’t change – no, if anything it just gets stronger, the urge to be around you and have your attention and feel you growing more and more pressing by the day.

No, the thing that changes is the atmosphere that comes alongside his growing desperation.

What used to be a small, casual hug of greeting when you meet up to eat becomes a very tense three second hug, his hands settling firmly at your waist and his brown hair tickling your neck with how deeply he buries his face against you.

(Often you think you can hear him sniffling, as if he was smelling, as if he was breathing you in, but the moment passes too quickly for you to really be sure.)

What used to be a casual holding of hands when he guides you through a crowded space becomes him snaking his fingers between yours, his palms clammy and sweaty, his fingers gripping onto yours tight, tightly enough to sometimes be painful.

What used to be flirtatious comments with very little meaning that he’d occasionally throw your way just to tease you become real, all traces of a joke erased from his tone as he tells you that you’re more beautiful than any flower after you mention how lovely the nearby flowerpot is.

Things slowly begin feeling different the longer his infatuation carries on, to the point where you will have to actively start dismissing these changes as merely being in your head – of course Tooru isn’t acting weird when he pulls you against his hip so that you’re walking side by side down the street.

Why would that be weird?

Sure, the street is nearly deserted so there’s no chance of running into anyone, and sure there’s no cracks or holes in the walkway to warrant you having to be careful, but it’s not weird.

(Just don’t look down – the dress pants he’d donned for the occasion – your date, he likes to think – do a very poor job of hiding just how your body heat is affecting him, of just how the way you fit against his side is making him feel.)

You’ll slowly get the feeling that Tooru is pushing your boundaries, every day finding a way to poke and prod just a bit more, to blur the lines of friend and boyfriend just a hair, just to see how far he can get without you calling him out for his behavior.

And when you eventually do reach your limit, wherever it may be, don’t breath too heavy a sigh of relief – because while he’ll try to tone it down as much as possible (he has to, because when you look so upset with him it makes his heart physically ache, the words of agreement already slipping out of his mouth because he’d do anything to get you smiling at him again), his clinginess is nothing compared to how it is once he’s stolen you away.

Once you’re living under the same roof as him, things will very, very quickly get out of hand. Any semblance of personal space and boundaries you may have are merely a suggestion to him, something of the past that can be plowed right past because now you’re his, and he’s yours.

Now there’s no reason to try and hold himself back – you know how he feels now, the level of desperation with which he wants you, so why should he bother trying to save his decorum or keep things platonic? He’s waited for so very long to touch you as he pleases, and while he won’t force anything too extreme on you, you will be subject his physical affections.

He’s constantly got a hand on your body, whether that’s resting on your shoulder, your waist, your thigh, your cheek, your ass, anything at all. He’s always hugging you, letting his long arms wrap around your shoulders as lets out a sound much too similar to a moan to be comfortable, pressing his body directly into yours so that he can feel every inch of you against him and feel more connected to you.

He’s always pressing kisses against your hands and legs, letting his lips travel from your fingertips up to your elbows, down over your shoulders to your belly button, down the slope of your thighs and finishing on the curve of your ankle, those brown eyes half lidded in far too much passion as you shiver in disgust.

He’s always trying to get you to return his affections, too – it’s great to hug you and sit you in his lap, but he wants you to want it, to want him, to want his touch.

He tries to keep all the affection pleasurable for you, to have you happy and smiling and craving the human contact, because the only thing worse than you rejecting his love is you rejecting his touch.

And so it’s not uncommon for him to whisper to you as he’s got his arm hooked around your waist, lying on his side with you spooned up to him if you’re enjoying this, does this feel good for you?

(His voice is unsure, hesitant, almost afraid, your response the difference between his heart breaking or beating out of his chest.)

He’s incredibly vulnerable when he’s touching you, his desperation and the raw need he feels for you bleeding out of him in ways that make it absolutely impossible for you to ignore. How can you? When he’s mindlessly playing with your fingers as he tells you about the upcoming game this weekend, he can’t stop marveling at the softness of your fingers against his calloused ones, his skin brushing yours even as you try to pull away.

When he’s clutching onto the shirt – his shirt – adorning your figure as he holds you against his chest on the couch, you’ll notice how his grip doesn’t falter for even a moment, staying steadfast and firm and strong. Frankly, even with all the rage and betrayal you feel towards Tooru, his touchiness and clinginess will likely be the source of the growing pity you feel for him.

Because really, isn’t he just so pathetic? He’s an absolute mess unless he's touching you – anxiety overwhelms him, panicked thoughts about whether you actually love him, about whether he’s even worthy of your love, whether he’s a talented player or an number of other insecurities that suddenly come racing to the surface.

So really, while it’s not ideal, you’d best get used to his handsiness – it’s intense, to say the least, and while he’ll never force himself onto you, he will force his affection onto you.

It’s better for you to simply let it happen – enjoy the human contact while you can, because when he leaves for the long, long trips for series of away games, you’ll find yourself missing your captor’s touch.

Isn’t it all just so sick?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Tooru is, unfortunately, a naturally jealous man. He’s always been both envious of others and painfully aware of his own shortcoming in every aspect of his life. Volleyball, friendships, even his own love life have left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, always acutely aware of what other people do better, what they have, frustration eating him alive because why can’t he be better or have what they have?

It’s unhealthy and as he’s gotten older he’s gotten better at keeping the jealousy at bay, but he’s still victim to the green-eyed monster much more often than he’d care to admit.

And where you’re concerned, this natural tendency only gets worse, his possessiveness flaring to worrying degrees when another man so much as looks at you.

(His jealousy is actually one of the major reasons why he even realized that his feelings for you transformed from platonic to romantic, his love for you changing from laughing at your jokes to wanting you gasping and writhing and needing him.)

Though, while desperation guides Tooru in most ways regarding your relationship, he still has enough of a grip on his lucidity to know that being jealous of every man that interacts with you is neither reasonable nor attractive to you.

Surely, other men must want you – you’re gorgeous, after all, sexy and perfect and everything he could ever want. Other men must see these qualities in you too; if they didn’t, they’d be stupid in Tooru’s opinion.

And yet, particularly in the beginning of his obsession, Tooru tries desperately to fight the rising jealousy he feels for you.

It’s not normal to want to throttle the man you make eye contact with on the street – you didn’t even speak, just merely catch eyes for a brief moment. So, instead of marching up to the man and socking him in the face like he wishes, Tooru just grits his teeth, pulling you closer to his side and asking you a question, hoping to distract you from ever even thinking of that stranger again.

Instead of yelling at the waiter that smiles just a beat too long at you after you order your meal, he just squeezes his hand into a fist, smiling tightly and asking you about coming to the important game he’s playing this weekend, emphasizing that he always plays much better when you’re there.

He’s always trying to play off his jealousy, but the result of his constant bottling of his emotions means that when the bottle finally fills, it overflows – Tooru isn’t normally scary to you, but when the jealousy finally explodes, you’ll find yourself unnerved by one of your closest friends, the man he becomes seeming utterly unfamiliar to you.

The volleyball stadiums are always loud after Club Atletico wins, and you’re sure no matter how many times you come to these games you’ll never get used to the noise.

It’s not hard to slip out of the bleachers and navigate back towards a hallway deep in the bowels of the stadium, the winding halls leaving anyone else surely confused. But you’ve met with Tooru after these matches enough times to know the path like the back of your hand – which is why the presence of another person makes you immediately cock a brow.

The man’s looking at his phone, his face visibly confused, and as your footsteps catch his attention, he looks up at you with relief. He’s quick to ask you how to get back to the main seating area, because he’d wandered off to find a bathroom and now he was truly lost.

The explanation and the exasperated expression he wears gets you chuckling a bit, a smile forming on your lips as you explain the directions to get back upstairs.

He looks lost merely three directions in, and immediately you’re laughing a bit again. He's pocketed his phone by this point, a hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck sheepishly, his voice shy as he asks you to repeat the instructions.

You only get about midway through before a hand places itself at your waist, a sudden pulling motion sending you stumbling back slightly and knocking into something firm and tall. Immediately you jump, looking up to be met with the strong jaw of Tooru, his lips set into a thin line and his brown eyes narrowed on the stranger.

The stranger immediately sucks in a gasp and splutters something out about being a huge fan, I’ve even got your jersey on! You were so good out there, those sets were insane –

He’s cut off a harsh laugh from Tooru, and your confusion only deepens. Tooru turns to look at you, a soft smile quirking up his lips.

Will you go get a towel for me? I’m awfully tired.

You blink but slowly nod, unsure where this sudden request was coming from. As you walk off, Tooru watches you, all the while ignoring the nervous fiddling of the man in front of him.

As soon as you turn the corner towards the training rooms, Tooru’s smile drops and he turns back to face the man. His voice is cold and condescending as he sighs.

Are you always this irritating to talk to?

The stranger’s jaw drops a bit, his nervousness back in full force as he takes a step back, one hand playing with the hem of the jersey.

Oh, uh, sorry, I was just getting some directions from your friend but I’ll be going now…

His steps are quick and rushed as he tries to take off down the hallway, but he freezes when Tooru’s voice calls out again.

Next time, you should save yourself some time and not bother talking to someone so obviously out of your league. It makes you look awfully pathetic, just so you know. Get going, I’m sure your mom’s worried that you haven’t come home to her basement yet tonight.

At that, the man starts moving again, and Tooru notes with a distinct sense of pride that his shoulders are shaking slightly, no doubt both his confidence and idolization of Tooru shattering.

Tooru takes a deep breath and looks up towards the ceiling, letting his eyes close briefly.

It’d been an extreme response, he’ll admit – you’d been standing a good three feet away from the man when he’d happened upon the scene, the man visibly thankful for the directions Tooru could hear you giving, but it didn’t matter.

It couldn’t matter, not when the adrenaline of the game was still rushing through his veins, not when the excitement and giddiness of seeing you was still potent, not when he’d been looking forward to hearing your praises and maybe even getting a hug, the jersey of his that he’d insisted you wear making you look particularly alluring today.

(Seeing the lettering of his last name across your back certainly didn’t hurt, his uniform feeling too tight and too hot.)

The jealousy had just sudden hit him in the moment, a rushing sort of anger that left him only barely able to realize that he needed to get you away now, that the words he’d be spewing at the unfortunate man who’d stolen your attention would surely leave you pissed beyond repair.

He breathes deeply, the anger still swimming in his veins, though releasing it out onto that poor fan was probably not the best choice.

Soon your footsteps are echoing in Tooru’s ears, and his eyes immediately fly open to watch you walk down the hallway, towel in hand and a worried expression on your face.

Are you okay, Tooru?

Your voice is an angel’s, he’s sure of it, and when you look at him with such worry and sincerity, it nearly makes his knees buckle. You’re so damn pretty, and as he gulps and nods, thanking you for the towel, he can’t help but feel a bit smug.

You’re his, damnit, and while telling the man off and losing a fan probably wasn’t the best price for this feeling, Tooru wouldn’t trade it for the world.

And when you go in for a hug, pressing yourself against him (pressing all of yourself against him), Tooru can only wrap his arms around you and return the hug, keeping his grip tight even as you try to pull back.

He’s a jealous man, yes, but when you smell and feel and look this good, can he really be blamed?

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Stealing you away isn’t something that immediately occurs to Tooru. He’s got a bit of a hectic schedule; being a professional athlete means an absurd amount of time away from home, an odd sleeping schedule, and a high amount of security needed to ensure his safety.

And frankly, he just doesn’t want to kidnap you – he’s a control freak in many ways regarding you, what with his extreme clinginess and the jealousy constantly eating him alive, but he doesn’t get any pleasure from the idea of controlling you.

And so, he holds off for as long as physically possible to keep from snatching you up for himself – there’s something incredibly alluring about you when you feel free and happy, and he’s terrified that if he were to kidnap you, all those smiles and your pretty laughter that gets his heart racing would disappear forever.

He’s not particularly delusional, and he’s sure you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings if he were to drug you and have you wake up in pretty, lacy chains.

He’s not stupid, and he likes the concept of being able to go out with you far too much to really desire kidnapping you. He likes showing you off too much; his jealousy is all consuming, sure, but being able to parade you around on his arm and show the world that you’re with him is enough to stroke both his ego and his pride, making him suck in an uneven, stuttered breath.

He likes being able to take you out for spontaneous luncheons and dinners, swinging by your modest apartment (one he insists you could do better than, if you’d just let him pay your rent like he keeps offering) in his fancy black car, winking and telling you to hop in, pretty girl, we’re getting Italian! And if you eat the whole pasta bowl I’ll be so impressed I’ll even buy you some of that fancy gelato I know you love.

(Really, he’ll buy it for you no matter what, but he likes the idea that you’re eating enough, that you’re truly feeding yourself, that you’re healthy and safe and still alive and still his his his -)

He likes that he can just shoot you a text and tell you to pack for a tropical destination, requesting your presence at the nearest airport in less than an hour because he just got an extra ticket to the training camp his team is attending in the Caribbean.

He likes the excitement of it all, the way your eyes always get so big and wide and cute when he tells you about the latest adventure he’s dragging you along with or the latest thing he’s planning to buy for you.

He likes the way you always get so bashful and starstruck, utterly shocked and so grateful that you struggle to get your words out, because god the attention feels good.

Seeing you smile at him like that will never fail to send shivers racing across every inch of his body, his fingers trembling and a lump forming in his throat because oh please please please never stop looking at him like this…

It’s just too good for him to willingly end, and he’s terrified that the moment he makes a move towards keeping you in a more secure location, the magic of your happiness and fondness towards him will disappear, leaving you bitter and spiteful towards him.

And really, that’s the worst possible scenario for him – with the exception of one very, very large scenario that could actually convince him to fully kidnap you. That is, when you tell him gently one evening over cocktails and a platter of cheese, meats, and olives that you’re leaving Argentina, he goes very still and very pale.

It’s a mixture of terror, rage, and genuine panic that envelopes him, that leaves him scarily quiet for the rest of the evening, that gets him gripping the steering wheel of his car so tight that his knuckles turn white.

It’s that same horrible, gut-wrenching mixture of emotions that compel him to drive back to your apartment late that same night, his face blank as he uses the spare key you’d given him a while ago to quietly enter, already holding the chloroform soaked rag in his pocket and approaching your bedroom fast, his footsteps almost eager enough to wake you up.

All too soon he’s got your limp body in his backseat, brown eyes glancing frantically between the road in front of him and your form in the rear view mirror, a new mix of foreboding and excitement making his gut twist and turn.

You’ll be angry, surely, but Tooru knows this was his only choice – you were leaving him. What else could he have possibly done?

Being Tooru’s captive will often leave you feeling disoriented, as if you’re walking along a familiar path that’s been left to decompose and rot. Everything feels different and alien and wrong – leaving you with a false sense of comfort that’s shattered at every turn.

It’s strange, because you know Tooru – he’s been your friend for years, but as you come to terms with the extent of his obsession with you, the man you thought you knew slips away from view, leaving you with this husk of him, looking the same but acting nothing like him.

There’s still traces of him – in how he talks to you late at night, curling your body up beside his as he plays with your fingers, his voice a murmur in your ear as he rants about his teammates, the topic feeling so normal and familiar that it almost makes you cry.

There’s traces of him when he puts his hand on your back to guide you into another room, the familiar curve of his palm making your body want to relax and lean into him only for the sudden squeeze he gives you to jolt you right out of that comfort, to remind you that no that isn’t his phone corner poking into your hip like you’d always thought.

There’s traces of him, but by and large Tooru just becomes too much – he’s too touchy, too demanding, too insistent that you be looking at him and only him. He’s always got his hands on you, pressing into your skin or playing with your hair or tracing the shape of your lips and cheeks.

(It’s more of a comfort for him rather than a sexual desire – of course, he very much wants to have you naked and trembling and moaning his name like a prayer, but when he pulls your body against his or rests his forehead against your back, it’s mostly just to make sure that you’re still there, his anxiety about being away from you and losing you calming down just a hair because you’re right fucking here.)

He’s always got those eyes trained on you, watching your every move like a hawk, making shivers roll up your spine no matter how much you get used to the feeling of being observed.

(Being watched while bathing was, admittedly, the most difficult adjustment. He hasn’t forced himself on you – something you’re beyond thankful for - but it’s still jarring to be running the soapy water over your body while he watches from beside the bathtub, his cheeks tinted pink and his voice soft and worryingly husky as he tells you that he’s always loved the scent of your soap, did you know I could smell it back when I used to hug you? That’s why I always put my face against the right side of your neck – you always put extra there. Did you do that for me?)

He’s always talking to you, his voice alternating between teasing with comments that are just a tad bit too sincere to feel like a joke and low and heady, like there’s something on the tip of his tongue that he desperately wants to tell you but just can’t quite force out.

(The compliments he gives you remind you of the old Tooru, but there’s always a certain level of detail added to them that makes your skin crawl – he’ll tell you that you’re so beautiful, your face is perfect, when I sleep it’s all I see…)

It’s scary and weird and his clinginess will have you wanting to scratch your eyes out and claw at him just to get a bit of space, but the reality is that as time passes you’ll slowly grow more and more conflicted about your feelings towards him.

He’s kidnapped you, stolen you away and locked you up away from the rest of the world, and he’s spent countless months collecting fragments of your hair and your old toothbrushes and taken photographs of you and countless other things you’ve yet to discover.

But he treats you well, all things considered, and the more time passes from the kidnapping, your rage slowly cools until all that’s left is an overwhelming pity for the man who claims to love you more than he loves himself.

Because really, isn’t Tooru awfully pathetic?

Isn’t it sad that he needs you so badly that he can’t function unless you’re around, unless he’s felt your touch, unless he’s heard your pretty voice say his name?

Isn’t it pathetic that he keeps you clutched so tightly to his chest at night that you can hardly breath?

You’ll be feeling sorry for him before you even realize it, some part of you desperate to recognize him as your Tooru, as the man you’ve come to love and care for as friends.

Eventually that part of you will win out, and while Tooru feels a bit guilty for having essentially conditioned you into accepting him, it doesn’t really matter – because you want him now. You’re choosing him, accepting him, needing him like he needs you, and that’s really all he could ask for – he just wants you to love him, and while the methodology may be a little dirty, Tooru’s only ever cared about results.

Because when you smile at him again and hesitantly press your lips against his, he swears he’s died and gone to heaven – because you finally, finally want him too.

PUNISHMENTS:

Similarly to his feelings regarding kidnapping you, Tooru isn’t the biggest fan of punishments.

His dependence on you is so strong and so deeply inlaid into his person that harming you just feels wrong, carnally evil in every form of the word. The concept of physically harming you makes him feel sick and his hands immediately rush out to clutch onto you, to tuck you against his chest, to lift a finger to your pulse point to make absolute sure that you’re still with him.

He’s terrified that you’ll somehow die or abandon him, and even just a simple scratch or a light bruise would be too much for Tooru to handle. And so, punishing you is absolutely off the table – his ultimate goal is for you to develop positive feelings for him again, to maybe even love him, after all.

But Tooru is only human, and so while he won’t ever physically lash out at you or force you into any severe, serious punishments (or humiliating ones, luckily enough), he will fall back onto something more subtle, something more purposeful – he’s not necessarily manipulative with you in your day-to-day life, but he’s not embarrassed to play every single card in his favor in order to get you feeling positively disposed towards him, even if he doesn’t deserve it.

It starts off genuinely unintentional - because he really values honesty in your relationship. He wants you to be honest when you’re telling him that you love him, that he’s pretty, that you need him.

He wants things to be real and raw – except, you’re still so angry with him, your eyes so betrayed when you look at him, and it makes him want to rake his nails into his skin because that pain would feel so much better than how your hatred feels.

And so, after the first few times you try to escape the nice penthouse he’s gone through the trouble of decorating with things he knows you love, Tooru starts getting a bit desperate.

Can’t you see that he only stole you away because it was his only choice?

Can’t you understand that he didn’t want to do this, but there was no other way to keep you safe and secure and his?

He starts panicking, terrified that despite all his efforts to be kind and inviting and spoil you (both with material goods and constant affection, though you haven’t asked for either), you still won’t ever return his feelings, or even harbor positive feelings towards him ever again.

And so, with furrowed brows and a sinking feeling in his gut, he turns towards fake tears and only half-true words to get you feeling bad for him, to get you wanting him like he wants you to. Like he needs you to.

Tooru’s initially not sure what to say when he walks through the front entrance of the penthouse.

It’d only been a weekend tournament; a simple Friday, Saturday, Sunday round-robin type event that was a few hours away – nothing horribly long. And yet he’d been so, so eager to return to you, to feel your body against his and hear your voice and smell your scent and just see you that he’d literally sprinted from the car, all the way up fifteen flights of stairs to his apartment.

And this is what he walks in on?

You, with a dull butter knife in your hands, the metal bent and warped while you stare at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest?

It’s painfully obvious what’s going on – you were trying to get the door open, pushing and pulling so hard with the knife that you’d nearly broken it.

You’d nearly broken it trying to get away from him, in other words. His duffel bag drops to the ground, his fingers frozen and trembling as he stares wide eyed at you.

Angel? What – what’s going on?

You don’t respond, too nervous and scared of how he’ll react to make a move. But Tooru recovers first, rushing forward and swatting the knife out of your hand before pulling you into a much too tight hug.

His hands are still shaking as one rubs up and down your back, the other situated on the crown of your head.

Were you trying to leave me?

You start to answer, your lips moving to speak against the fabric of his shirt, but he cuts you off.

Were you trying to get rid of me? To run away from me?

And there’s something in his voice that makes your shoulders shake, a sudden bout of rage simmering through you.

Yes, Tooru, I’m trying to get out of this stupid fucking apartment that you keep me trapped in! Please, you have to let me go, this is wrong! This isn’t right – this isn’t healthy! You have to understand! How do you not-

He cuts you off with a small sob, and although you know you shouldn’t, some part of you pauses for just a fraction of a second. Your voice stalls for just a moment, but Tooru jumps into the brief moment of silence.

Stop it! Stop it, please, don’t say that.

He’s sniffling, pressing his cheeks against your head and clutching you even tighter.

You’re right, I know you’re right. I’m a monster and a freak for doing this to you. I know that, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please, you don’t understand – I hate that I’ve done this to you. I hate that I’ve made you sad and forced you to stay with me, but you have to understand that I can’t stop.

He sobs again, and you notice his voice is wobbly and something wet is touching your ear.

I can’t stop myself – I can’t stop wanting you and needing you, and I think I would die if I never saw you again. Please understand, I’m pathetic but I need you to stay sane – just, just let me love you like we used to, okay? Please, I promise I can take good care of you – I can make you happy! Just give me some more time…

Something in your chest feels tight at his words, and before you know it you’re reaching around his torso yourself, your movements hesitant as you loosely hug him back. He gasps lightly against your hair, and you can feel him swallow.

I hate you. Your whisper is soft and quiet, and although the words make his chest ache, Tooru smiles.

I love you, he tells you, pressing a kiss against your hair.

You both stay like that for a while, only the distant sound of traffic from many stories below you filling the empty air of the entryway. You don’t know what to say, or even what you could say – Tooru’s a monster, yes, but there’s something about the rawness of him in this moment that makes you yearn and ache for the old Tooru, the one you knew before he started developing this ‘love’ he claims to have for you.

Something about him feels familiar and unbearably sad, and when you pull back and he stares at you, those brown eyes puffy and tear-stained, you can’t find it in yourself to fully pull away.

Because isn’t he still Tooru Oikawa? Isn’t he awfully pathetic? Isn’t it sad how badly he craves you, how his every touch and word and look make you feel as if you were the most precious thing on Earth, as if you were the most prized woman he’s ever met?

It’s wrong and you can hate yourself for it all you want, but as he sniffles and bites his lip and lets his fingers dig into your sides, you won’t be able to deny it: you couldn’t leave him, even if the door was wide open. He’s a monster, sure, but maybe so are you for liking the way you’re so unconditionally needed by someone as famous, beautiful and successful as him.

Meanwhile, Tooru can’t help but internally rejoice at the feeling of you in his arms, at the feeling of you hugging him, and at the knowledge that he can literally see your walls breaking down, getting one step closer to you truly accepting him – to you truly loving him.

Even if the tears he’s manufactured are fake, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is you.

And after the next tournament, when he comes home and you’re lying on the couch reading the same book for the tenth time rather than picking at the locks, Tooru decides that perhaps the show he’d put on (or rather, exaggerated, as he truly was desperate for you to not leave him) was worth it.

Anything for you is worth it – as long as you keep looking at him and touching him and wanting him.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

What makes Tooru dangerous is the fact that he’s absolutely dependent on you in every sense of the word. Over time, his self-worth becomes intertwined with your opinion of him, with your presence and role in his life.

He’s not exaggerating or being obnoxious when he tells you that he absolutely needs you – he can’t go for more than a few hours without feeling your skin against his, otherwise he gets anxious and jittery and on edge, snapping at others and pacing and worrying so much that it makes his chest physically ache.

He can’t go more than a few minutes without hearing your voice, otherwise he has to see you and be near you to make sure that you’re still with him, that you haven’t left him or abandoned him or any number of other things. He just needs you, so much so that it honestly scares him.

He’s not particularly violent or condescending, and aside from the kidnapping and forced touching, life with Tooru honestly won’t be so terrible. Sure, he hugs you too tight and kisses you too hard and clings to you in a way that makes your skin crawl, but eventually you’ll grow to become just as dependent as he is on you.

Because when he’s your only human contact, can you really afford to be so picky? When he’s the only one you can see and speak with and feel, you’ll slowly become complacent and even happy when he’s around.

Stockholm Syndrome will eventually make you a willing captive, and Tooru couldn’t be happier – you’re finally treating him as a lover, embracing him and letting him dote on you and care for you, and what more could he really ask for?

You’ll eventually just give up the fight – he’s a pathetic, sad man with such deeply rooted insecurities about himself and his abilities that the pity will nearly drive you mad.

And all the while, Tooru will welcome you with open arms – you can pity him as much as you like, as long as you stay with him.

Please.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #_haikyuu #_tooru oikawa #_lee's profiles #yandere tooru oikawa

306 notes · View notes

doeshetakecareofu · 4 months

Text

matty doesn’t like sharing

warnings: mature content. matty x fem!reader. matty cums in girlie. umm idk.

note: neglected this blog and comes back to post crap. reupload from grlplastic (edited version). probably not any better than unedited. i promise i’m working on something i swearrrrr. did i proofread? does this make any sense at all? no.

you watch matty sneer at you from across the table you're sitting next to his best friend who's having the time of his life, teasing adam for god knows what. it’s fuzzy as you look at matty with a silent plead, you know your face is probably retorted into your ugliest most desperate face because he’s holding back a laugh.

it's about half past one in the morning. they've just finished a show in london, it was small something casual. there’s chatter and jokes about it being past adam’s bedtime and about a couple mishaps during the concert. matty wasn't happy with you, he claims you like george. just before heading on stage matty finds you fixing and tugging at george’s button up making sure he looks presentable which according to matty he already did. even if it was true that you liked his friend you'd never admit it, you and matty were casual. it didn't matter to you if matty had a million girls in his room to fill an empty bed. you knew if you guys were just casual he wouldn't be punishing you. matty had given you the silent treatment with looks here and there before, during and after finding you and george. he claims it wasn’t the way you fixed george’s button up but the way he looked down at you like ‘you were the greatest fuckin’ thing to grace the planet’. you pushed and pulled at matty until he finally found out a way you could make it up to him.

he placed the object in your hands expecting you to completely ignore him, protest and throw it back at him — but you didn't. you slipped it in obeying him. matty liked the power he had over you, he knew you couldn't live without him. you rarely took interest in other guys, he knew you were his. he knew deep down inside you didn't want him to ever get mad at you.

"are you okay, why aren't you talking?" george places a card down, letting ross take his turn. "you look sick, are you alright?" george’s questions cloud your brain as he places a hand on your thigh giving it a quick squeeze. you feel your face heat up crimson dancing on your cheeks, along your whole body. you look at matty who's reaching into his pocket for something. the vibrating bud inside of you, only vibrated slowly, it was never intense until now. you look at matty who's seconds away from letting out a laugh. george rubs your thigh, concerned "let's go take your temperature, yeah?" he says, placing a hand on your forehead. matty butts in, "i think she's fine," he says smugly looking your way while taking some cards from the deck. the only thing you could do was nod afraid of slipping up.

"your turn george," says adam taking note of your clenching legs with your fidgety feet rubbing against each other then shaking profusely the next second. george slowly returns to the game, rubbing your back to distract yourself from whatever is bothering you. the vibrations soon slow down, causing relief to wash over you. the fear of an orgasm, or the slick of your heat coming out from between your legs onto your seat all seemed to be real possibilities about a second ago. after waves of intense to slow vibrations from the bud inside you it finally stops. you to let out a tired sigh resting your head on george’s shoulder. he smiles sweetly looking down at you once again like you’re ‘the greatest fuckin’ thing to grace the planet’ he snakes an arm around your waist pulling you closer into his body.

"i think someone should take her to bed, or run her a cold bath she's been heating up,” george says, getting up from his seat slowly wrapping his arms around you to move to your bedroom. "i'll take her, matty jumps out of his seat running to your side, snatching you from george. "are you sure, matty?" adam takes a sip of his beer taking a look at matty’s deck. "i'm sure,” matty growls, forcing you onto your feet, "walk," he demands into your ear. you tremble like a fawn, letting your knees buckle.

matty offers some support but he's mostly dragging you out of the room. you two hastily walk down the hallway as matty whispers in your ear. "you're lucky i didn't embarrass you in front of them, you know that?" he nips into your neck opening the door to your room all too loudly. the guys take a look at the two of you from where they sit on the opposite side of the hallway shooting each other all kinds of looks, shrugging.

"i could've let you come in your shorts, right there" he throws you onto your bed as you hear the door slam shut. the smell of his scent fills your nose as you lay on his bed fucked out from what’s been torturing your insides. "i wasn't that mean to you, hm?" matty sneers, pulling your shorts off. he moves to your top, a lacey babydoll top the material almost identical to the material of george’s button up. you sit up attempting to cover yourself, you felt exposed, you were in your underwear. sure matty’s seen you in this state many times but this time was all too embarrassing for you to take, matty was still fully dressed black and dark greys covering him looking at you with flickering eyes. you can't help but think this is matty’s way of humiliating you.

he gets on his knees below you prying your legs open. he pulls off your underwear, a light pink panty that’s lined with lace patterns and flowers. “were gonna wear these for my best mate, yeah?” he breathes, shoving them into his pocket. before retrieving the toy, he rubs your swollen clit with his thumb. you whine as you try to shut your legs. matty tuts, “don’t” he watches you pridefully prying them back open, knowingly. "does it hurt, baby?" he coos opening your folds exposing yourself once again.

he inserts fingers into you retrieving the toy in a swift movement. you whine at the new feeling, vacant. his cold fingers leave a trace of him inside you as you hiss when the toy finally leaves. he stands up leaving you trembling as he throws the toy on your littered floor unbuckling his belt letting his pants and briefs drop to the floor stepping out of them.

matty watches your eyes light up at the sight of his cock. he steps closer to you as you try to reach out for his cock, he pushes you back onto the mattress harshly. you fall back with a gasp as matty is pulling your bottom half closer to him. he wastes no time pushing into you, the slick of your cunt squeezes him as he hisses trying to push into you. you’re so fucked out, whining incoherently as the sweet release bubbles in your stomach matty stops all together trying his best to keep you on the brink. he holds your hips in place when you get squirmy meanly biting your neck.

"no one's gonna fuck you better than i am," he tsks snaking a hand down to pinch at your clit. you whine pushing him away from you almost kicking him away. he persists “does george fuck you like i do?” he’s painfully dragging his cock in and out of you letting it slip out almost everytime knowing you hate the feeling of being empty. “how many times have you thought of him while i fuck you?” you shake your head over and over.

you're in tears by now babbling, begging matty to let you come. matty’s awfully silent now only making this unbearable. he's getting sloppier with every thrust and you know he's about to come. his hips buck in and out of you quickly as he chases his release. matty slaps your creeping hand away from your clit, you cry out desperately needing to touch yourself. “my cock isn’t enough for you?” matty says choking back a groan “need your fingers too? that’s pathetic,” his hips jerk into you as you squirm. you whine clenching around matty. he hasn’t even taken off your bra, he hasn’t kissed you since the last time you guys did it.

you cry begging to touch your clit, and matty scoffs. “fuckin’ whores don’t get to,” he says your stomach clenches, you can feel your core tighten ready to burst open with matty still drilling into you. finally matty comes inside you, his cum spilling out of you as he stutters still pumping himself into you.

you gasp trying to push him off as he looks at you. he slowly pulls out of you with a satisfied groan watching himself drip from your opening.

he pushes his fingers into you, making sure his cum never leaves you. “want me to call george? see what a mess you’re making” he teases again, despite filling you up he’s still mentioning you and george. “no matty please,” you cry out as he starts to curl his fingers inside you. “she speaks,” he mocks breathing onto your thigh. his fingers are wet, profusely pushing into you burrying his cum inside you. “no even sure you deserve to have me inside you,” hes unamused. you watch him finger you, feeling embarrassed. “gonna come or not?” he growls, giving your cunt a slap. you yelp, shaking your head. “need george in here? to fuck you better, hm?” he gasps out towering above you. you whine weakly, lifting your hips off the bed. “so ungrateful,” he says, pushing your hips down “rutting up against my hand like a bitch in heat, it’s a shame” your head spins at matty’s words.

he lines himself up against you, slowly pushing inside. listening to the gush of his cum in your cunt, matty let’s out a groan settling inside you again. you clench around him, pawing at your own tits. he watches you play with yourself pulling your breasts out of their holding place. “save it,” he spits out, starting a pace. you cry out an apology and matty stares at you hissing. “you’re really sorry?” he drills into you profusely as you nod. he shoves a thumb into your mouth as you suck intently. he reaches over to your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing gently.

you moan matty’s name, and curse profusely. matty’s hand against your hips keeps you grounded as you squirm. “fuck, i’m gonna come again” matty groans out. his eyes are almost lidded shut, “take me, sweet thing” he chokes out with a few bucks spilling into you again. he’s draped over you as he pulls out quickly. you’re a mess, squeezing matty’s arm pleading once again to come. matty’s breathless as he swipes at his cum in your cunt rubbing it into your clit. you squirm and kick, matty refuses to let your hip go as you babble his name. your eyes shut, and you come onto matty’s fingers. you’re shaking, still splayed out on the bed.

matty sticks his fingers in your mouth, you taste a mix of your fluids as he takes his fingers back with a pop. he leans down to kiss your forehead, “my sweet girl, i’m sorry i was so mean” he pets your hair kissing the top of your head again. “don’t do it again, okay?” he whispers to you as if it’s a secret, and you nod chewing at your lips.

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #grlplastic

136 notes · View notes

3-dsimp · 2 years

Text

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

Monster rule 101: Never neglect your Harpy

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

Perv! Harpy! Shiggaraki! x Monster scout! Reader

Cw: NFSW, monsterfuxking, degradation, slight praise, shigaraki being a perv, breeding, usage of cunt, cervix fucking

🔞MDNI/NO AGELESS BLOGS🔞

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

‘It’s gonna be a stormy night’

You noted,

As the clear skies soon became dark n cloudy with a chance of rain and thunder. You soon decided that it was time to switch locations preferably one with that’ll shield you from the spiteful downpour that’ll no doubt cause some minor floods.

You were on patrol as a novice monster hunter, searching for anything that may arouse suspicion. Deeming that the area was clear of any commotion you moved onto the next place until you spotted what seems to be a man limply leaning against the wall of an alley way. Zip lining your way to him you noticed that he was critically injured as his blue navy feathers were completely drenched under the heavy rain.

‘Wait-Feathers?’

You questioned, body tensing in alarm whilst getting your weapons ready to eliminate the supposed threat. Holding your breath, cautiously you crept closer to the unconscious creature. Trying to figure out what species they was and with further inspection of his bird like legs and feathers sprouting from the lengths of his arms. You classified him as a harpy.

Harpy’s are fiercely territorial of their home, and was known to be the most hostile type of monster that’s to be killed on sight lest they tear you limb from limb and use your remains as tribute to their nest.

Kill any hostile monsters on sight.

Your commander would tell the Hunters. However, that rule doesn’t apply to you due to the fact that you’re just a scout. Your only mission being to report anything regarding the whereabouts of monsters to the higher ups so they can secure and contain them for experiments.

You could hear the pounding footsteps of the Hunters shouting target has not been sighted. Does that mean they lost trail of the harpy right in front of you? The one that’s dying right in front of you with huge crooked gashes in his toned stomach that was heavily bleeding out underneath the pressure of his clawed fingers.

At first you turned away, planning to actually do your job since you might get a easy promotion out of this, but you went frigid at his pathetic raspy coo at you. Stupidly, you glanced back and from the moment he locked his begging red tired eyes with you, the choice was made.

A really dumb choice, however, you didn’t care. You only live once after all.

Who knew taking care of a crybaby bird man was such hard work?

He was constantly on your ass. Following everywhere around the house with feathery arms wrapped around you. It didn’t matter where he just had to be groping some part of you. Such as your tits, fat derrière, or his favorite spot to rest in between dem thick pudgy thighs.

He’d always take your clothing and try to inhale the sweet scent lingering from your underwear even going as far as to lick the wet spots that happened to be there. And more than often leaves a white mess in them whenever you’d force him to return it to you.

The perverted lil feather duster, would always wear a shit eating grin when handing them back to you. At this point you learned to leave him to his own devices just as long it’s not any of your expensive lingerie.

When you first started living with this leech you felt bad having him crumpled up on a small couch of the tiny but affordable apartment. And got him a gaming chair big enough to accommodate his big size, along with a PC to keep him entertained when you’re working part time jobs since you quit the hunters association.

But that only made things worse as he expected you to sit in his lap every time he played his games. And if he’d ever get frustrated then he’d screech profanities as he’d unexpectedly rut his stress boner up against you. Until he finishes with hot cum dirtying his sweats, besides grinding against you he doesn’t go any further.

Until one day you made the mistake of ignoring him. Something you should’ve never done was to put aside a touch starved harpy and a possessive one at that. And the main thing that pissed him off was that you were on the phone with a male colleague.

Lord have mercy on your pussy. Cuz You should’ve known better than to ignore your precious birdy, because now you’ve got bigger problems to deal with. Literally

“ You fuckin slut, are your friends that important? Want me to show them who you really belong to?”

His long thick dick slammed into your spongy pink walls as he took you on the floor like an feral animal. Phone layed forgotten on the table as he fucked you within an inch of your lifespan.

“ Should I call them back and show them what a good little whore you are for a monster like me?”

His raspy voice deepened an octave as he let out a low growl from how damn tight you were, as your pussy practically was trying to suck color off the red strained tip of his monstrous cock. That was drooling loads of fresh precum inside your slick hole clenching around his length.

“Ah fuck are you tryna milk me dry? You’d like being filled with my chicks wouldn’t you? Dirty slut”

The lewd embarrassing sounds of wet squelching of his big balls slapping against your ass, made you wanna bury yourself under your arms. But of course this petty sadistic asshole wouldn’t let you have a moment of reprieve. His large talons gripped you by the wrist and held them behind your back, as he pounded ruthlessly into your cervix from behind. With a cruel smile that split his chapped lips even more as he cooed mockingly at your attempts to not go brain dead.

The pace was hard and unrelenting as he sought to punish you for dividing your attention when all of it should be on him and only him. You accepted his mating feather so of course it was a no brainer that he’d always come first before anything else. Suppose he’d have to drill that lesson into you via dick in your womb, but he wants you to look at who’s fucking you so good to the point of where you’re creaming on him in 5 min intervals.

With one last longing thrust he spurted loads of pre mixed with actual cum pulling out of your quivering cunt to cover you in webs of white all between your legs, ass, and back. To say that You were overstimulated would be an understatement as you were far to gone to notice how he flipped you onto your back, with a mean spirited grin.

You looked utterly beautiful when ruined as fat tears streamed down your face, with your pretty tongue hanging out like a debauched bitch in heat. He hungrily licked his lips, littering the skin of your neck with harsh bites. Only Coming up to plant a ravenous kiss against your lips. A small form of mercy for the onslaught that’s about to commence.

“Aww is the little slut too drunk on my cock? That’s too bad, we’re just getting started”

He’d show you, he’d show everyone that you belonged to him. By marking you from the inside out.

#bhna smut #mha smut #shigaraki smut #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki imagine #harpy!shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #perv shigaraki

2K notes · View notes

plutoccult · 4 months

Text

THE WAY THINGS GO

pairing: jean kirstein x female reader

description: when your best friend jean finally got the girl of his dreams, your friendship soon faded into oblivion. as you reflect on what could’ve been, you figured it’s just the way things go.

word count: 2.1k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: fear not, people, i have returned to writing for my man. i believe the last thing i wrote for jean was my love mine all mine, and i’m sorry for neglecting him for so long! i didn’t want my account to just be a jean account and really wanted to be able to have people come to my blog for other characters, so i hyper focused on literally anyone else but him for AWHILE. but now i’m back for my man. also trying something i’ve seen other blogs do and have a couple songs that fit the one shot linked below, so if you enjoy that, please tell me because i would love to keep it going! and big thanks to @intorder for beta reading. love you twin 🫶

soundtrack: the way things go, promise

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @femme-lune @jeanboyjean @cowgirlikets @okkoiktoru @todorokiskitten

taglist form here

all you ever wanted was for jean to be happy. even when it destroyed you inside as you aided him in his quest to woo mikasa ackerman, you figured that if it made him happy, then that’s all that should matter.

there was no point in dwelling about your pathetic feelings, he only ever saw you as a friend for all these years. you’d rather be friends than not be in his life at all, but when jean finally succeeded in his years long mission for the girl of his dreams, you didn’t think it would mean your friendship would fade with time. it hurt to simply just be friends, but it hurt even worse when it all turned into being nothing.

you found yourself pulling away from your mutual friends as a result, which hurt just as much as losing your best friend. you knew they would stick with him before they’d ever stick with you. they’d known him longer, after all. you felt as if you had to completely reinvent your life in the wake of jean’s absence. as much as you told yourself that change was okay and that you were happy with it, you continued to be haunted by the what if’s and what could’ve been.

there were always times where you thought about telling jean the truth before he finally landed a girlfriend, but the thought of rejection and losing him as a result plagued you to the very core. turns out there was no need to worry as he disappeared from your life anyway. sometimes you wondered if he ever thought about you. you knew you thought about jean plenty, but you had always placed him on the highest pedestal in the past.

his name felt foreign on your tongue now. whenever one of your friends brought jean up these days, you couldn’t find yourself able to say his name. you couldn’t even remember how to pronounce his last name. maybe it wouldn’t be this way had he thrown your friendship away, you liked to think.

you loved the scenario of jean showing up at your door one day and apologizing for everything, but that was merely a silly hope in your brain for a while. as the time spent without him in your life grew larger, you thought about such a preposterous idea less and less. with time, jean began to feel like a distant memory, and the pain hurt a little less.

your life became easier when you didn’t think about him. you found it funny how much lighter you felt when you didn’t feel the weight of unrequited love on your shoulders. you used to think of it as the size of a chip, but when you came to your senses, you realized you had been carrying a boulder. god knows how you managed to do it for so long.

it felt weird trying to pursue other men. you were thankful to have supportive friends who wanted the best for you, but didn’t want to push you too much if you weren’t ready for anything. regardless of that, you knew the only way you could be remotely ready is if you dove in head first. if you dipped your toes in the pool, you knew you’d shy away and run off. diving straight underwater felt easier.

even if you gave the dating scene a try, it wasn’t perfect, but at least you were living your life without the shackles of your feelings for jean chained to your ankles. besides, you had new stories to laugh about with your friends rather than you down in the dumps during your times with your girl friends. you were unrecognizable now, inside and out.

walking past certain places didn’t phase you like they used to. although, you find it funny now when you look back on how much strength it took for you to return to your favorite coffee shop. after depriving yourself of it for so long, you almost forgot how delicious it tasted, so at least there was that to be thankful for.

despite all the progress you’ve made, it turned out to be as easy as flicking a light switch to feel like your old self sometimes. from certain songs to inside jokes only you’d understand, it was quick for all those memories to come rushing back. but those reminders only helped you remember why you were in the position you were now.

however, one night on your way to the bus stop, you froze when you saw what looked like a familiar figure across the road. you stared at him for what felt like forever to figure out if it was exactly who you were thinking of, but when he walked across the crosswalk, it turned out to just be a random person. you were thankful it wasn’t actually jean. you wouldn’t know what to say to him after all this time anyway.

you quickly shook it off before continuing your walk. you wouldn’t let a stranger who happened to slightly resemble jean bother you that much. it would be silly after all this time. he shouldn’t matter to you anymore.

you sat down on the bench waiting for your bus to arrive. the wait felt like torture this time for some reason, and you couldn’t figure out why. it was the same bus stop you always waited at, around the same time each day you got off work, so why did this new feeling brew up inside of you?

“y/n?” oh. there’s why.

“jean.” you manage to speak, a lump you can’t seem to swallow forming in your throat.

there he stood. he looked just the same as when you last saw him. it wasn’t a surprise he kept up with the mullet look after all this time. it was your idea, actually. you told him girls liked it more when guys had hair that wasn’t too short or too long, just long enough to run their fingers through. it was a miracle he listened, really. you didn’t think the hairstyle change could make him look any more heavenly, but it did that times a million.

you find yourself unable to say anything else. do you ask how he is? is he still with mikasa? any wild changes in his life? there was so much you could say, but so much you couldn’t. there was no right way to go about it.

“it’s been a while, huh?” jean questioned, forcing a chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. six months, three weeks, and five days, to be exact. you were so close to reaching that seven month mark. curse him for popping back up like this.

“indeed.” you reply as you look away. if you looked into his eyes for even a second, you swore you’d fold over. why did you still feel like this after all this time?

“how are you?” he asked. jean noticed you were avoiding his gaze. he knew it was his fault things were this way. “i won’t bite or anything, you know. horse bites hurt worse than stepping on a lego.”

you can’t help but laugh. curse him. that was funny, you have to give him that. you look up and see jean smiling, unbeknownst to you from the sound of your giggles. maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to have a quick catch up before your bus arrives.

“doing pretty good.” you say, shockingly not a total lie. past you would’ve said you were fine while screaming your head off on the inside. now, it was mostly calm and quiet in your mind.

“how’s mikasa?” you ask him. even if you felt good on the inside, you couldn’t help but address the elephant in the room. you had to know. otherwise, you’d still wonder from time to time.

“oh, um…” jean stumbled over his words. you raise an eyebrow. “we broke up. she kinda… dumped me.”

oh. dare you say victory? no, no. that was wrong. you can’t find the slightest bit of joy in this. you did want jean to be happy, even when it used to turn you inside out over and over. but back then you always had that borderline sinister part of you that wished he’d fumble. now it seemed like he did, but you had to know why.

“why’s that?” you question. “i thought it would’ve finally worked out.”

“i was pretty much just a placeholder.” he shrugged. “she didn’t really like, like me.”

you knew exactly what he meant. “eren?”

“yeah.” jean let out a sigh.

it was no secret mikasa was practically obsessed with eren since they were kids. everyone that knew her long enough thought she had grown out of it, especially since she got with jean, but now you know that wasn’t the case. she was simply waiting for eren to come to his senses.

you always waited for jean to come to his senses, but is that wait even worth it? is it worth finally getting what you want in the end despite all that turmoil? you wonder if mikasa finally felt that satisfaction you used to crave, or did she end up feeling a little dead inside after all that waiting? you realize now it’s not worth waiting for someone to realize you’re worth loving despite being there right in front of them for so long. you knew better now.

“well, i guess that’s just the way things go.” you look away. life had its way of being a comedian, you thought, but that’s okay. everything seems to happen for a reason.

“yeah, guess so.” jean frowned. seeing you now, he had finally come to his senses, but he was far too late. now jean would be willing to just be your friend again if it meant you were simply there. funny how things change.

“well.” you shrug, looking away as you spotted your bus down the road at a stoplight. just one more minute, you hoped. “my bus is about to show up.”

as the engine of your bus roared towards your stop, jean desperately tried to get one last word out of you while you were collecting your things. “wait!”

“hm?” you sling your bag over your shoulder. you weren’t sure what he could possibly say, but you hoped it was a goodbye. who knows if you’ll ever see jean again? as harsh as it seemed, you didn’t know if you wanted this to reoccur, if you were being completely honest.

“i just…” he paused. “maybe we could grab some coffee—”

“no.” you interrupt him. past you would have never cut him off like this, but you were that girl anymore. you felt pretty satisfied now, no more what if’s haunting you. this felt like good closure to your former self, a person you never ever wanted to revisit. you hated who you were back then.

“it’s a really bad idea if we do that.” you say as jean couldn’t seem to find any words to say right away after you shut him down with a no so quickly.

“yeah, i get it.” jean sighed. he knew he had countless chances, all run dry a long time ago.

finally, your bus was here. there was nothing else to say other than goodbye now. you didn’t feel any regrets anymore. if this were the last time you ever saw jean, you didn’t think you’d be all to upset about it. even if you never truly confessed to jean how you used to feel, there was no point now. you didn’t need to. besides, you assumed someone had to have told him anyway. you guessed that’s the only reason why he tried asking you out for coffee, knowing how much you liked him. it was a good thing you didn’t feel the same anymore.

“bye, jean.” you say before stepping onto the bus. “it was nice catching up.”

“ditto.” he forced a smile. jean waved you goodbye, you waving through the window by your seat.

as much as it would be nice to try a friendship with jean again, you didn’t want to risk falling back into your old habits. you liked who you were now, and you don’t think jean fit that picture. if there were ever room for him, maybe you could try, but for now you were saying no.

you realize now that your world didn’t end the day jean faded out of your life, just like your world didn’t end the day you got an f on a test, or even the day your favorite band member left the group. it all seemed like the end-all, be-all back then, but now you know it was just the ways things go.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x female reader #shingeki no kyojin x female reader #aot x female reader #snk x female reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x female reader #jean x female reader #jean kirstein #pluto writes 📝#gif divider by cafekitsune

136 notes · View notes

whumpinthepot · 2 months

Text

Hamster Interactive Story

Chapter 12. Decision

Prev - Masterlist

Content: Giant/tiny, tiny whump, pet trope/whump, kidnapping, cages, loss of mobility aid (prosthetic leg), solitary confinement (non descriptive), manipulation, power dynamics, fear, female cast

Ashley’s Pov

Poll winner: Let Hamster decide what to do with Soap Scrub.

ART, WRITING, AND POLL UNDER THE CUT

A row of ideas fills your mind on what to do with this pest. Just as you’re thinking of chucking the whole jar out, you look at your little girl's face. Hamster’s eyes are full of worried tears and it dawns on you to get her input on the matter.

Placing the jar with the tiny man inside in a different room, you return to converse with Hamster. Admittedly you sway the options in your favour when speaking to her. Picking her up, you wipe her tears and brush back her curly hair. “Do you want him gone sweet pea? I can get rid of him for you,” you roll the words slowly, “Or, would you like a new friend?” A careful smile spreads across your lips while you rub her back gently. “I think he could warm up to us. He could be a new model for our blog. Who knows, if we got rid of him he could get hurt again. He would be safer with us don’t you think?”

Hamster frowns slightly with pressed lips. You can only guess her worries and reassure her. “Don’t worry honey bunny, I would never let anyone hurt you. Ever. If he’s not nice we can make him go away after all.”

Hamster hums and then nods her head. She smiles some, and dare you say she’s starting to get excited by the idea. You give her a little kiss on the cheek and explain that it might take some time to become his friend. She’ll have to be patient with him. You also tell Hamster that she gets her cast taken off in the next few days, giving her more to look forward to.

Once that's settled, you go into the room where the pest was left alone. He’s there in the jar with his head slumped against the glass. He becomes alert when you get closer.

You rest your arms on the dresser with your face close to the jar to talk to him. “I know it was you who scared her before. Tell me what happened.”

The man reacts exactly how you want, and goes rigid. “I- I never hurt her. Ask her. When she fell off the counter a mouse was going to attack her, and I scared it off.”

“And then?” You raise a thin brow.

“And then, what? That's all that happened,” he defends quickly.

You watch him for a second as his eyes dart around, then break the news to him. “I’ve decided to keep you. It's that or I sell you and who knows what could happen to you then. I won’t hurt you as long as you never upset Hamster. M’kay?”

“You have to be kidding me…” Tears well up in his eyes and he cradles his bandaged hand. “Can’t we make some soft of deal? I- I can do what ever you want if you let me go after. Then you’ll never see me again, I swear.”

Furious, you pull the jar closer just to startle him, who does he think he is trying to negotiate as if he has any leeway. “That is the deal, little boy. You’ve caused a lot of stress to my pet, and now you’ll pay it back to her with nothing but kindness. Do that and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable, well fed, and I won't hurt you. If you don’t, well… I’ll sell you and who knows where you’ll end up. Snake food? Some kids live Barbie doll? Neglected, starved, forgotten in a tiny. Little. Jar?” You tap the glass with your long nail between words. “The choice is yours.”

The man is left speechless with his mouth gaped open and his hair sticking out everywhere. You take a second to breathe deeply to calm down. The thought that you're taking this overboard clouds over you - but he really did cause a good amount of grief for you last week. "So, tell me your name or I'll come up with one." You smile, feeling just slightly sadistic. "Maybe Rat, Pest, or maybe Hamster can choose."

“It’s Soap.” He chokes out in a tiny voice.

You snort at the strange name, but wild pets are usually an odd bunch so you don’t hound him on it.

“It's nice to meet you, Soap.”

The next few days you set things up as a precaution. Making sure there are no other wild pets in your home, getting Hamsters cast off, setting up an escape proof cage for Soap, and isolating him just enough for him to crave the company of yourself and Hamster. On the fifth day of leaving him in the dark alone, you enter the spare room to check in. He’s sulking, hidden under a toy that you’ve given him in his cage.

“Soap?” You use a softer tone than the last time you two spoke, “Are you ready to come out? What would you like to do?” You give him a few options to choose from and offer to give him his doll leg back if he cooperates.

—-

(Multiple options may be used depending on the top poll winners)

Thank you @alittlewhump for looking over my chapter <3

Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @ilasknives @hollowgast1 @redd956 @zobodahobo @alittlewhump @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @coppercoyoti @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace @demondamage @vickytokio @whump-in-the-closet @sunshiline-writes @coyotehusk @cypresscove @shadowsnowdapple @whumpy-wyrms @re-whump @whumpninja

#hamster interactive story #cyoa whump #g/t art #g/t writing #whump art #tiny whump #interactive whump #whump writing #breezys post #breezys writing #breezys ocs #oc hamster #oc soap scrub #oc ashley #polls

50 notes · View notes

yanderehsr · 7 months

Note

Assalaam alaikum (its a traditional greeting from where I’m currently staying) This is my angsty request:

Can I request yandere ex-fiance sylvain x betrothed reader. For context, Sylvain and reader were betrothed at a young age by their families to conjoin the families. We all know how sylvain hated being his family and seen as crest stud so he will hate reader too who bears a crest and is part of the reason why he is being force to marry early. Reader on the other hand is dutifully fulfilling their role as sylvain’s fiancé as they don’t want any of their siblings to suffer in their place. Reader cooks sylvain’s favorite food, invites him for teas and all kinds of couple activities. Sylvain being himself decides to flirt with other girls despite having a fiancé already and is skirt chaser with new girls every week just to spite reader and his father. Seeing how their fiancé doesn’t even respect them as a person and is often caught in indecent scandals, reader is hurt as they’re the only ones trying to make something good in the unfortunate situation but is hated by sylvain. One day reader after being stood up by sylvain once again is comforted by one of the kinder students (ashe, dedue or ignatz even) and they fell genuinely in love with the student. How does sylvain feel that reader is no longer trying to make the relationship work and is now interested in other men and frankly speaking replace him in their heart? How would he get the reader back?

-Thank you for reading my request (I’m so excited that you’re doing three houses, do you still remember the anon that sent the jing yuan x neglected wife reader request, that was me. It was such a long time ago, and your blog has grown since then. This request has similar vibes but I see Sylvain to be the kind of yandere that needs a wake up call to snap into yandere mode)

*Gasp*, so it's you who requested that, nice knowing that you still read from me, Sylvain is actually one of my favorite fe3h characters, 4th place in fact😆

Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour

The arrengement happened before either of you were born, that didn't mean that Sylvain didn't hate this situation, he hated it more than anything else, and the only thing he could take his anger out on was you, it was stupid and even he knew that, but he was a child and that was all he could do.

Sylvain ignored you, he hated you, sure it was the situation he really hated but it was you it effected, the two of you should be a couple but this whole situation had made you feel lonlier than ever before. You had to go through with his angry looks and indifferent responses for so so long.

"Just go away, I don't have time for you today"

But that didn't mean that you didn't try, you tried so damn hard to make this not only easier for Sylvain but for you as well, if this was going to happen then why not make it a happy relationship at the very least, so you cooked for him, you stood up for him and what did you get in return, he ignored you, flirted with others and left you alone, over and over again, it was tiring but you held out, or you thought you could at least.

"I-I just don't understand what he has against me"

"There there, I am here to listen to each and every word, so vent all you want"

You had met Ignatz at yet another ball Sylvain had left you at, yet another party where everyone would laugh at you as soon as he left and you were all alone, that's when you met Ignatz who allowed you to rant about it, get everything you had been holding in for the last 10 years off your chest.

*THUMP* *THUMP*

A new spark had been ignited that day, not for Sylvain but for the kind boy who listened to you and comforted you when you needed it, he treated you with respect and kindness, much different to your fiance.

Someone who did take notice of this was Sylvain, you who were such a constant in his life was suddenly spending less and less time with him, you smiled at him less and less, and one day it had all dissapeared... he would admit, he missed it, missed you.

But Sylvain saw you with Ignatz, saw your smile not be directed at him your fiance, but at Ignatz, His heart clenched tightly, a painful feeling in his chest as he saw this, for some reason he felt like ripping the boy from the golden deer apart and get you back, he felt jealous.

Sylvain through jealousy realises what he had, and what he is losing right now, someone to love, someone that treated him with kindness, he feels saddened that he has pushed you away, why did he do that. Maybe it was too late now... you were leaving him...

... Wait you were still his fiance, you were still his, this arrangement was made by not one but two nobles, you couldn't break this off that easely, he will be better for you, he promises, Sylvain cleans up his act, stops flirting with others, now he just needs you to stop cheating on him and he will finally have happiness, with you tied to his side through marriage.

"You need to remember I am you fiance, our love was destined since birth, nothing will sepperate us, I will admit that I have acted stupid so far, but just because I have acted stupid doesn't mean you can cheat on me"

#yandere #yandere fire emblem: three houses #yandere fe3h #yandere male #yandere sylvain #yandere sylvain x reader

95 notes · View notes

lees-chaotic-brain · 1 month

Note

You and I by richard hadley and the death ramps, toji, fluff if possible but anything else is great too!!

WC: 2.4k

CW: sorry anon i threw a tad bit of hurt/comfort into the fluff, NOT beta read, editing what's that?, reader referred to as a biker girl, swearing, toji being a bad partner (dw he pulls it together), possibly very ooc idk i've never written for him before, plz don't ask how this got so long i honestly have no idea

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @m0k0k0

listen to this while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

There was something off about you. It left him unable to keep his eyes off you, but he didn't have the faintest idea of what it could be.

Was it the emotion in your music? No, that couldn’t be it because there almost always was some musician or another at the diner. And they were normally pretty decent. Maybe it was the motorcycle helmet and keys sitting next to your bag behind you. But he had been around biker girls before, so that didn’t make sense. What was it?

He always goes to this particular diner for lunch when he could, but today as he sat there examining you the place felt different. The smudges and signatures inked on the walls seemed to add to the atmosphere instead of being an eyesore, and the smell of grease and fast food almost comforting. The atmosphere seemed different today, and he felt like it had something to do with you.

Caught up in his musing, he didn’t even notice he was staring at you until you shot him a cheeky smile and a wink as you sang. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he refocused on his neglected lunch, shoveling it down to try and forget what your gaze had done to him. For some reason, he found himself wishing you would look at him again, that feeling lingering throughout the rest of the day and into the next.

I like the way you look at me baby

Toji Fushiguro doesn’t make mistakes. Not because he was born perfect, but because the reality of his life was that one mistake meant death. In a world where cursed energy was deemed necessary to fight curses he made do with brute strength alone. Which worked. Normally.

See, for his way of doing things to work, he needed to have his head in the game. To be one hundred and ten percent focused on the fight at hand. So why the fuck was he thinking about you? And why the actual fuck was the thought of you enough to throw him off his game??

These were all things running through his head as he finished off the curse before slumping to the ground beside it, one large hand pressed against the wound on his ribs as blood seeped out through his fingers.

He couldn’t afford to lose focus. One moment of distraction and this had happened. If it weren’t for his quick reflexes he would be dead right now. So he had no choice. He had to get to the bottom of this. He had to go back and see you again, if only to see what made you so special. All so that he could focus on his job, of course.

At least that’s what he told himself as he returned to the diner, hoping to see you again.

I act as if I'm not going crazy

Girl I'm in a muddle tonight

Packing up your stuff after a long gig at your local diner, you couldn’t wait to get home. Caught up in your fantasies of a hot bath and a pack of instant ramen, you didn’t notice the man approaching you until he stopped in front of you, his shadow blocking the light.

“Sorry, they’re closed, I'm just headed out now.” You look up, vaguely recognizing the hunk of muscle that stood in front of you. Oh, that’s right. He’s the guy who was staring at you during your performance the other day. You wondered what he needed.

“Give me your number.”

“Excuse me?” Of all the things you expected him to say, demanding your number was not one of them. “May I ask why you need it?”

“Just cause.” He folds his beefy arms across his chest, not wavering as you narrow your eyes and scrutinize him, unsure if he’s being serious. Unfortunately, you think he is.

“Listen.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’ve had a long day. I’m tired. I want to go home. If you want my number, you have to give me something more to work with here, buddy.”

“Buddy?” He quirks an eyebrow, a smirk stretching the small scar at the corner of his mouth. “Do I look like a “buddy” to you?”

You make a show of examining him closely before straightening. “No, you’re right. You look like the guy who ate my buddy. Which is exactly why I don’t think I should give you my number.”

And with that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and leave, climbing on your bike and speeding away. Assuming that would be the last you saw of him, you were surprised when you arrived for your next performance and found him waiting there for you.

“Didn’t get enough of me, huh.” You snark, breezing by him. “At least leave a nice tip this time, ‘kay?”

“No.” His deep voice rumbles from behind you, and you spin to see him staring at you with a stupidly sexy grin on his stupidly hot face.

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m broke.”

You’re unable to hold your snort in, surprised and amused by his unashamed bluntness. Still laughing to yourself, you turn around and pat his bicep.

“Sorry, buddy.” His mouth quirks at your emphasis on the offensive word. “Now you’re definitely not getting my number.”

With that, you walk inside, leaving him outside on the sidewalk with a sneaking suspicion that he just fell in love with you.

Would you tell me where you're gonna take it

If I had a heart you're the one who should break it

Two years later and he has successfully obtained your number, and the two of you are now in a semi-serious relationship. Surprisingly, you were the one to initiate the relationship, despite repeatedly rejecting him when you first met.

At first things had been really nice, as close to perfect as things could be, in your opinion. He was by no means a gentleman, or good with his words, but his dry humor and actions were enough to convey his affection towards you. And that was enough.

Or, at least it was, until he stopped showing up. About a year or so into your relationship he started standing you up occasionally due to work. Honestly, you weren’t entirely sure what his job was, only that it required him to travel and stay in good shape.

The first few times it happened, you brushed it off. After all you were both adults with jobs and lives outside of each other. Of course you would be busy. But then it started happening more and more, and the periods of time he was gone became longer and longer.

The breaking point came around your two year anniversary. You had received a job offer that would require you to move, and as much as you wanted to take it you knew you had to talk it over with him first. There was just one problem. You hadn’t seen him in over a month.

With your two year anniversary approaching, you really wanted to try and reconnect because you hadn’t felt close to him in awhile, and with this job opportunity on the horizon you had to think about whether or not continuing your relationship was worth it.

So you told him that you really wanted to celebrate your two year anniversary with him, and that you had something important to tell him. Not ready to give up on your relationship yet, you put a lot of effort into the night, buying a new dress and cooking a nice dinner for the two of you to share.

But just as you finish setting the table and tidying up the house because he’s due to arrive any second, your phone dings.

Toji <3: Sorry. Won’t be able to make it tonight. Took another job. I’ll be back next week.

The engines running, can't decide if I should ride away

Tired and sore from the last job he had accepted, Toji heads back to your shared apartment, eager to see you again. He didn’t particularly enjoy taking on new jobs, but money didn’t grow on trees so he didn’t really have a choice. He did miss your cooking and affection when he was gone though.

Fumbling with his keys, he finally manages to get the door open and steps inside, only to be greeted by a dark apartment. That was strange. Normally you were home by now. The thought crosses his mind that something could have happened to you, and he slips into the living room, panic stirring in his stomach.

Moving with an amount of stealth unexpected of someone his size, he checks the entire apartment, only to find it empty, with no sign of…anything, really. Realizing that you could just be out with friends, he flicks on the lights and plops down on the couch with a sigh.

Stretching his arms above his head and yawning, a piece of paper sitting innocently on the coffee table with his name on it catches his attention. Absentmindedly cracking his neck, he reaches down and grabs it, gently unfolding it.

His heart sinks as he scans it, your familiar handwriting suddenly illegible. Because there’s no way he’s reading this right. There’s no way you left. There was no reason for you to. Things were great between the two of you. At least, that’s what he had thought, but according to the letter in his hands you didn’t feel the same way.

The next few minutes pass in a blur of tearing open dresser drawers and frantically searching closets for a sign that you hadn’t packed up all of your belongings and left. But all he found was empty space, the smell of your perfume still lingering in the air, despite it being devoid of your presence.

Finally taking a moment to stop and process, he finds himself wondering what he’s so worked up about. So what if you left? It’s not like he needs you or anything. He didn’t even do anything to warrant you leaving! Sure he missed your anniversary, but he planned to make it up to you when he got back! And maybe it wasn’t even the first time he had stood you up like that on an important date, but if you were willing to leave over something as miniscule as that, were you even worth keeping?

At least that’s what he kept telling himself as he went on with his life pretending there wasn't a gaping hole in his life that you used to fill.

Too stubborn to be the first person to reach out when he still felt he hadn’t done anything, a month went by without any contact between the two of you. In the beginning it didn’t bother him that much, because the reality hadn’t fully set in yet. But slowly as the weeks wore on, so too did the absence of all the little things he hadn’t realized he took for granted.

Like the way your quiet humming brought life to the otherwise dull apartment. Or the way your things scattered around on various surfaces had been a constant reassurance of your presence. He missed you scolding him and telling him he needed to take a break, he missed your laughter, he missed your kisses, he-fuck.

He missed you so much. What was he doing?

I had a woman, she went away

And now I'm lonely, fuck it

It’s now been a month since you left in a storm of hurt feelings and anger, but you still hadn’t heard from him. Deep down, you hadn’t expected to actually break up. You figured you would leave and time to cool down. Then when he got back and realized you left it would be a major wake up call for him and he would come running to you with an apology and then he would change.

Instead you got radio silence. You weren’t too concerned the first week because you knew Toji was as stubborn as you were and probably didn’t want to be the first one to reach out and admit he was wrong.

So you waited (semi) patiently, but when a second, then a third week went by without a word, you were faced with the possibility that he wouldn’t ever call. That the two of you truly were over.

Which is why when you were awoken from your nap on the couch by loud knocking at three in the afternoon, you shouted informing them that you would be there in a second as you adjusted your clothes assuming that someone just needed you to sign for a package or something like that.

What you were definitely not expecting to see was your kinda ex-boyfriend standing stiffly in your doorway, staring steadfastly at something over your head.

“Um. Hello?” You lean against the door frame and tuck your hands into your pockets, hoping to conceal their trembling. “You need something?”

“Yes. Actually. I do.” His eyes met yours, and you were shocked by the raw emotions swirling in them. “I need us. Together. You with me. Me with you. The way things are meant to be. I know I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes-”

You snort and raise your eyebrows. “Well, a lot of the time.” He amended, rolling his eyes.

“But, I do really care about you and while I’m not the greatest with my words, or the brightest guy you’ll ever meet, I promise that if you call me out on my bullshit I’ll listen and do my best to change.”

You pretend to think it over, as if the two of you getting back together wasn’t inevitable the second you saw him standing in your doorway. “Let me see…oh wait. One second.”

Pulling out your phone you tap away for a couple of seconds before sliding it into your back pocket. “Sorry ‘bout that. I just accepted this job. Let me get back to you in a week.” With that snarky comment and a smug wink, you shut the door firmly in his face and he hears the sound of the deadbolt clicking into place seconds later.

For a moment he stands there, unsure what to do before he starts laughing. There was the feisty person he had fallen in love with and missed so desperately. And when he heard your quiet chuckles coming from the other side of the door, he knew the two of you would be okay.

The two of you were able to laugh and be together. Just the way you belong.

You and I

#lee's brain writes #lee's brain writes: requests #lee's song fic event #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n

25 notes · View notes

sleepingdeath-light · 7 months

Text

her needy princess ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (kinktober entry)

word count ; 941

content ; sexually explicit content, mummy kink, vaginal fingering, clit play, praise kink

fandom ; star wars

pairing ; padmé amidala x cis female reader

read also on ; ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

Being married to a senator often meant that you ended up spending plenty of time apart, whether that was because she had business off planet to arrange trade routes or mediate alliances, or because she was stuck in the senate building for a meeting that was both unnecessarily long and blatantly classified for civilians like yourself. You knew that this would be the case even back before you started dating, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating — especially after you and Padmé had set up your new arrangement as a couple and you were forbidden from using any of the toys you owned without her presence and approval.

So you were not only denied the presence of your Mummy to get you off, but she’d also banned you from tending to yourself when she was away. How very cruel!

But she did at least make it up to you whenever she was home; she couldn’t just leave her needy little princess unsatisfied, now could she?

—————

‘That’s it, sweetheart,’ she cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to the skin behind your ear, ‘let mommy take care of you.’

Your position was precarious for sure — legs spread as wide as they could go whilst sat on your wife’s lap, the two of you facing the floor to ceiling windows of your apartment — but you couldn’t bring yourself to protest whilst her fingers were buried in your cunt and her lips were pressed gently against your ear. No, the feeling of her slender digits pumping in and out of your wet pussy (scissoring and crooking at just the right places to have your toes curling and your back arching) combined with her rubbing the soft pad of her thumb against your clit in hypnotic circular patterns was far too distracting for you to think of anything else but her. Her and her lips and her hands.

You gasped and she chuckled approvingly, leaning forwards to kiss you on the cheek. ‘Good girl.’

Her other hand was busy playing with your chest, using a mixture of tender massaging and rougher groping to leave your mind spinning. Though she didn’t neglect your nipples either as she went, alternating fairly between the two as she rolled and pinched them between her thumb and forefinger — doing just enough to get them pebbled and sensitive before moving on to the other, eager to have you arching into her hands and whimpering under her touch, but still careful enough not to overstimulate you.

She thrust a third finger into your entrance and you gasped, bucking up into her hand despite yourself and you felt Padmé smile against your skin. ‘Did you like that princess?’

You whined and offered a weak nod, not quite trusting your voice.

‘Use your words, sweetheart.’

‘Yes, mummy.’

She leaned forwards and pressed a wet kiss against your bare shoulder, uttering another ‘good girl’ before she returned to her previous position and continued touching you.

But now she seemed much more focused on getting you off rather than just playing with you, transitioning as smoothly as she so often did from having fun to giving you your real reward. You had been a very good girl this week, after all, and followed all of the rules she’d set out to the letter, so it was only natural that she give you what you wanted in return.

And, thankfully, your mummy (or, as she would say, ‘mommy’) really loved getting you off so really it was like a reward for both of you.

Then again, how could she not love seeing you reach your climax when you looked so pretty when you came for her? Especially when you sounded so adorable when you whined, and moaned, and whimpered, and called out for her in that way you knew she couldn’t refuse. Or when she felt those velvety walls of yours clamping down and fluttering around her three fingers as you orgasmed, your juices gushing out and soaking her hand and wrist and the blanket beneath you as she continued to toy with your aching clit in a shakier rhythm (trying dearly to keep on going for your sake when she wants nothing more than to take one hand and bury it between her thighs so she can finish with you — it would be easy, she’s already so close from just watching you after all…). Or even when you collapsed back against her, hands reaching out to grasp at her wrists to try and ground yourself as you called out to her over and over again — begging, whining, praising, asking things of her that she wouldn’t even dream of refusing whilst she’s only able to praise you and hold you and kiss you from your shoulders to your neck to the back of your head.

‘That’s my girl.’

‘Keep on going, princess, I know you can do it,’

‘You look so pretty, sweetheart, so so pretty,’

‘I love you so very much…’

‘Be as loud as you need to, princess, it’s okay.’

And on, and on she went. The words falling as easily as water from a stream as she rocks your trembling body to-and-fro, slowing down and withdrawing her hands bit by bit to prolong your high and make the come-down as easy as possible for you. Trying to ignore the ache between her own legs as much as she can, for your sake as much as hers, by focusing all she has on taking care of you in the moment.

You: her good girl, her gorgeous wife, her love, her well-behaved (but oh so needy) princess.

Yeah, her needs could wait just a little bit longer…

#sleepingdeath #minors dni #ageless blogs dni #female reader #female reader smut #ageless blogs will be blocked #minors will be blocked #star wars x reader #star wars smut #padme amidala smut #padme amidala x reader #smut

60 notes · View notes

gecemi09 · 4 months

Note

I saw the previous anon's post and omg yes! I have a feeling I'm gonna be returning to your blog often to rant about Tim- tell me now if you don't want that 😭

But omg I read a fic about Alfred not letting Jason back into the manor after attacking Tim and the author replied back to someone's comment being like "Alfred loves Jason but he would never let him back in after assaulting a minor." WHAT????

The rage that overtook me was insane because Alfred literally is Enabler #1. Bro has beeeeeeennn letting 11 year old children fight violent crime on the streets of Horrid Gotham. Also Jason was like what 19 during that incident? Don't people realize they're also doing a disservice to Tim's character by making him this weak dude who could barely fight against Jason and boohoo he's soooo traumatized that he flinches around Jason :(((((((

GOD STFUUUUUU it makes me livid PLEASE

Do people think the Robins are twinks or something? They're all like canonically super tall and muscular. They fight incredibly well. Tim was fighting Jason too.

ALSO also. I see wayyyy too many fics where Tim has horrible parents and grew up poor/was never fed. Please be real. The kid grew up rich and has never experienced poverty or anything close to it. Comparing trauma is horrible, always, but God sometimes I just wanna be a horrible person and scream about how Jason has BEEN having it soooo much worse than everyone in the batfam

I am so sorry for this long rant, please tell me if you don't want anymore asks like this 😭

I always welcome Tim rants! (and asks in general)

But yeah that fic you mentioned sounds horrid and AGREE SOOO HARD ON ALFRED. No offense, but guy has practically zero spine considering he was fine with Bruce letting a NINE YEARD OLD being a vigilante and then CONTINUE doing it w other kids. Like I know it's a genre convention but NINE??? Alsoalso tim and jason are 3 years apart MAX without accounting for jason's time spent dead+ comatose+ catatonic. "jason assaulting a minor" my ASS when I guarantee you tim was probably hurt worse during patrol before. And exaggerating tim's parents is..ew. I legit read fanfic where 16 yo tim was apparently smaller than robin jason, which ,, no chance in hell. Also, I'm pretty sure they were away on work a lot, not neglect levels? but i have never read abt tim so idk.

Thanks for the ask!

#anti tim drake #anon #ask #jason todd

33 notes · View notes

the-final-sif · 7 months

Note

It's so nostalgic seeing your dreamon au again since it's actually how I discovered your blog and definitely one of my favorites! Is there anything else you'd like to share about it?

For the dreamon improv AU, I think one of the bits I never really got to discuss was DreamXD/XD's exact impact on c!Dream.

During his creation, Dream literally put part of his own soul into XD including a lot of his happier memories and love for his friends. It was what really flipped XD into something capable of becoming their own person.

I've mentioned before that DreamXD's creation had some serious impacts on Dream during this period. One such impact is that the simple act of creating DreamXD and shuffling part of his soul into a new, safe location actually both made Dream more vulnerable to the Dreamon and protected him from it.

Removing that part of his soul fundamentally made him weaker, it made it harder for him to take back control from the Dreamon, particularly early one.

However, the flip side that neither Dream nor the Dreamon realized was that Dream removing that part of his own soul clamped down on his side of his emotional connections to people. It didn't erase them, but it did weaken them significantly and destabilize those bonds.

If Dream had managed to get rid of the Dreamon without DreamXD returning that part of his soul, then that would've caused way more problems in the long run with his own memories and ability to form connections with other people. Luckily, XD gave it back. Dream definitely felt some weirdness while the parts of his soul had to patch themselves back together, including one part that had someone else's in hands in it. But like, he was also recovering from months of torture and his body being neglected and pushed to it's limits. So it went overlooked for awhile.

That experience ends up being effectively like if you gave someone your phone for a few months with all of your shit still on it (and no way to recover it) and then you get it back. There's an oddness in something that's uniquely yours and contains important parts of your life being given away, and then getting it back later after someone else has been digging in it. It's unsettling.

XD also suffer side effects once he returns Dream's soul. Although he'd also been suffering side effects while he had Dream's soul inside of him. Mainly because he'd now grown his own soul and the two were in a bit of conflict. Once the soul gets returned, XD ends up more stable and his own individuality begins to grow rapidly. At the same time, his own soul is still quite young and small so he sometimes finds himself reverting back to wanting to just sit by the End portal and stop people from going in. There's all of these new emotions and experience and now he has to process them all on his own without the crutch of having Dream's prior experience to filter them through.

His emotional volatility kinda goes everywhere maybe a month or two after the soul split, and it's basically only Dream that can get him calm again during that period. XD despite no longer having any obligation towards Dream does still refer to Dream as his admin and defer to him.

Also there's an entire 3 month long debacle for registering XD as a proper player because he does 100% have a soul and is a player, but also uh. His birth. Requires explanations. Like, technically he's like a few months old legally speaking (from the moment he had a soul of his own) but he's also very clearly not a few month old baby. They end up having to reprogram several systems to account for him and also pass several new laws.

#c!dream #dreamon improv au #dreamon #dreamxd #dsmp #dream smp #sif speaks #sif answers

51 notes · View notes

hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year

Text

In the Moonlight

AN: My baby. I generally consider myself a soft stan for Jun, but I thought this idea really suited him, and I haven't written about him yet, so why not. Also, I've realised recently how much I slept on the possibilities when it comes to cow hybrids. This was pretty short for me. More of a drabble I'd say.

Synopsis: Jun and his hybrid girlfriend being in love and weak for one another pretty much.

Heads up: Wen Junhui x Fem! Reader, established relationship, pwp, hybrid AU, Cow hybrid! Reader, Regular degular human! Jun, Reader has big boobs and is implied to be on the bigger side, unprotected piv sex, praise (both f and m receiving and giving), nipple play (f. receiving), lactation kink, creampie and pretty soft overall.

I will block you if you are minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jun looks borderline otherworldly as the moonlight streaming in from your bedroom window washes over him. There's a very appealing, faint blush colouring his cheeks as he squirms underneath you, eyes not quite sure where to focus. Alternating between your face, your heaving breasts and your glistening pussy as you hover over him with his cock in your grasp.

You can't help the uptick of your lips when you feel him twitch in your hand. Your boyfriend has always been so needy and sensitive.

"Please," he breathes out, his hold on your thighs becoming bruising.

"You're so cute when you're needy, baby," you muse but, decide that he's been tortured enough. You place your unoccupied hand on his toned abdomen to steady yourself as you slowly begin to sink onto his pretty cock.

He always stretched you out deliciously when you were on top. Your toes curl hard, and your fingernails dig into his skin when he's fully nestled inside of you. His broken moans only make you clench around him more as fresh arousal leaks onto his cock, his balls and your bedsheets.

"My pretty boy, you always feel so good inside me," you moan in return, gradually rising off his cock and sinking back down. You can't help the mewl that flies from your lips when you feel him pulse inside of you, and his hands shift from your soft thighs to your hips.

Jun already looks so wrecked. His blonde hair sticks to his damp forehead while his darkened eyes are squarely focused on where you two are attached. Watching you sink down on his cock over and over gain. His bruised lips part in a sinful O to unabashedly moan and whine and groan to both of your hearts' content. He used to be so shy about being vocal but, after you assured him that he had nothing to be insecure about and, that infact his sounds of pleasure only fueled you on, he became more comfortable with letting you hear him.

You know the moment when his eyes shift from watching you being stretched out on his cock to your tits when one of his hands reaches to grab a generous handful of one of them and, he fucks up into you slightly. Amusement and affection for your boyfriend courses through you at that. Jun made it no secret that he was a big fan of your breasts, and sometimes you'd joke that the only reason he was with you was because of them. You both knew that wasn't the case, but they certainly helped. Being a cow hybrid had its perks, you suppose.

Your rhythm stutters marginally when he begins to knead your breast, paying special attention to your hypersensitive nipples all the while.

"Ah Jun," you whine, riding him the slightest bit harder as he tugs and lightly pinches your nipple in the ways he knows will have you cumming on his cock within minutes.

"You're so pretty," he says, sounding completely dazed as you try your utmost to make him fill you with his cum. You're a little startled when he suddenly sits up and latches onto the nipple he was playing with moments ago, and his other hand cups your neglected breast.

Jun certainly knew how to exploit your weakness, that was for sure.

All you can do is steady yourself with your grasp on his broad shoulders and try not to completely go stupid as he eagerly sucks on your nipple and fondles you, giving your other breast the same treatment as the one he's currently latched onto received earlier.

A violent shudder runs down your spine, and you feel yourself spasm around him when he pulls the first spurt of milk from your breast, one of your hands reaching out to fist his hair and keep him in place as you rode him faster, the sounds of skin slapping against skin beginning to ring out obscenely throughout your bedroom.

You were barely making any sense at this point, a jumbled string of his name, moans, and curses spilling from your lips as you chased your release.

Jun wasn't fairing much better. His hips fucking into you more desperately as best as he could in his current position, your tits practically suffocating him as he greedily drank from you and touched as much of you as he possibly could.

You're the first to cum, your thighs practically giving out as you heavily leaned against Jun. Your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock repeatedly as you drench his lower half in your juices. Your pathetic, high-pitched whines only push Jun closer and closer to his own climax, and it doesn't take much for him to quickly follow behind you.

You cup his face and gently pull him off of your breast and press a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss to his lips. Both of you moaning into each other as you feel his hot, thick cum paint your walls white and you faintly taste yourself on his tongue.

#wen junhui smut #junhui smut #seventeen smut #jun smut #jun seventeen smut #seventeen jun smut

158 notes · View notes

rearranged-fanfic · 5 months

Text

Chapter-By-Chapter Part 1; The Prologue - Unfinished Painting

Blog Masterlist

Links:

Read on Archive of Our Own

Read on Wattpad

Read on Quotev

Read on Fanfiction.net

*Spoilers Below*

This fic starts off incredibly melancholy. let's properly set the tone, shall we?

"When death strikes, it’s sometimes a long, slow cut. And sometimes, it’s swift as the blink of an eye. It does so efficiently, without remorse, and without discernment. We all die, in the end."

This is the opening paragraph, the reader's first impression of the story and of our protagonist. We cut to Reader-chan (our Reader Avatar) in the hospital directly after her mother's death. There's a sense of shock and upset, but ultimately, resignation.

We know from the story that her mom had been sick for a while.

"It wasn’t sudden, nor was it unexpected. Mom had been sick for a very, very long time."

"Mom’s death had been a slow cut, festering over months and months until it was long overdue."

This is something she's been preparing for quite some time now. But there's still the undercurrent that she's not dealing well. You'll notice that she has no support structure; there are no others in the hospital with her.

Reader-chan is very much alone. She has few friends, and most of her family is distant or has since passed on.

"I was nineteen when I was made an orphan."

"After Dad had died unexpectedly from COVID complications..."

"And then [the younger sister] become an adult. And she’d left me behind without a backwards glance."

I know you're thinking, 'Author-san', why would you give us such a depressing start? This is so sad'. And, primarily, it's to ease the transition when Reader-chan transmigrates to the JJK world. If she'd have had a family who loved her and supported her, would she have wanted to stay in her new world - which, in this story, is portrayed in an incredibly dark way? For me? I'd say not. I'd claw and scrape and scream to get back to my family, hot fictional men be damned.

When isekai stories have protagonists that just go 'this is my life now', it really tanks my immersion. Especially when they're supposed to be serious dramas. Comedies are a little less glaring, because there's a suspension of disbelief that allows me to excuse more. But dramas? Oh boy, if you have family in your old world, you'd miss them too.

So, her losses before the start of the main story justify her lack of desire to return home - because it is something she struggles with in the first few chapters. Not only that, but it also reinforces her mental strength. She lost her dad and mom within a few years of each other and her sister is globe-trotting, so what could I possibly throw at her that's comparatively worse?

A character that has less to lose or less to return to is easier to manipulate emotionally for the author. There are less hangups, less connections to keep in mind, and less loose ends to tie up when the isekai inevitably ends.

Not only that, but the grief she experiences gives readers an immediate point of connection with her. Most everybody can identify with the loss of a loved one. Whether it's a parent, grandparent, or sibling that has passed away or simply lost touch, that sort of mental anguish resonates with humanity on an intrinsic level. We, as the readers, see her pain and understand it.

And we want to see her pick herself back up and move on from this.

We go from the hospital to her apartment, where she unpacks the last of her mother's belongings.

Reader-chan reveals that she'd been taking care of her mother before her death, for some unknown amount of time. And, in doing so, had let her own life fall by the wayside.

"I’d been able to see my ribs at one point, and my collar bones had become pronounced in the v-necks of my shirts."

"I’d neglected other things, too."

"An easel and canvas lay covered in the corner of the room, doing little more than collecting dust. [...] My book collection was little more than decoration at this point, too."

"I’d just lost my job. [...] I’d gotten fired for taking care of her."

"I wasn’t exactly qualified to do anything else, since I’d dropped out of college [to take care of her mother]."

Things like her health, career, future goals, hobbies, and interests were all discarded. Reader-chan, in dedicating her life to her mom, had completely derailed it.

This is the characterization we get of Reader-chan: she's toxically altruistic. Reader-chan is an incredibly kind person. She's hard-working, fiercely loyal, and selfless. This is to set up not only her desire to save those around her, but her own personal conflict within the story itself.

She can easily be viewed as a doormat, letting others take advantage of her. She bends under pressure, gives pieces of herself with terrifyingly little asked in return, and is unconcerned about her own wellbeing. Which is... very much not okay.

Despite this, we see that she's surprisingly resilient when faced with seemingly-insurmountable odds.

"And I resolved that I was going to go back into the store and talk to my boss"

"I could’ve started doing murals for the businesses in town again. [...] I could’ve paint windows for offices or the brickwork facades downtown, or done commissions for smaller pieces [to pay for her expenses]."

Reader-chan almost immediately starts to make plans to get back up onto her own two feet. Which shows that she's mature for her age, and able to deal appropriately with setbacks as they come. She's also not prone to getting overwhelmed and giving up.

Cut away again, and we find her in the parking lot of her old job, intent on talking to her boss to get it back. And she's trying in vain to get a hold of her distant sister.

She leaves a voicemail, to no avail. And for the first time, we see her truly angry...

"Snapping in anger, gripped the phone so hard that the fragile class façade threatened to break. Part of me hoped it would, that spiderweb cracks overtook it and the screen shattered in my grasp. So I’d lose her number and never have to call her again. Then I’d never have to see her again, either."

... and her immediate regret.

"I’d never see her again, just like Dad. Just like Mom."

"Was that what I really wanted? … Maybe not."

Because, despite the fact that her sister left her behind, she still very much loves her. And, if she cuts her sister loose, she really will be all alone.

I included a strained sibling relationship because, initially, I wanted there to be something that Reader-chan would be conflicted about. Should she rekindle her relationship with her sister - forgive, forget, and move on? Or should she hold a grudge in her heart, even if it leaves her miserable?

When she gets isekai'd, the conflict becomes: should she put forth the effort return home to her sister, knowing that their relationship is only hanging by a thread, or resign herself to her fate in her new universe?

We catch a glimpse of fandom. We know that Reader-chan enjoys a myriad of media, but that it's fallen by the wayside in recent months.

"Only a few manga volumes had been touched, when I’d take them to the hospital to read with Mom; she’d liked looking at the pictures."

"On the rearview mirror, little chibis of my favorite anime characters hang and jingle together."

I made eye contact with tiny Tsunade from Naruto [...] the blindfolded gaze of Gojo [...] next to Levi Ackerman.

So we know that she has a keen interest in manga, specifically, judging from her collection and from the characters she keeps in her car.

After getting off the phone, frustrated and angry with her sister, she attempts to calm herself down by reading through her curated stories page. Which leads to this:

"And I saw a headline titled 'JJK: Fan-Favorite Character Killed in Battle', with a picture of Sukuna next to it."

"Out of curiosity, I clicked on the article and scrolled down, looking for the manga panels in question."

"Because it wasn’t Sukuna dead. Gojo Satoru had been bisected, cut clean through, and left in a pool of his own blood."

Reader-chan reacts like this:

"“Th-that’s not possible, right?” I inhaled through my nose. Out through my mouth. Trying to calm myself."

"I stared at [the tiny Gojo keychain] for a bit, and yanked his chain off the mirror, tossing him into the back seat where I couldn’t look at him anymore. Then I pressed my face into the backs of my hands and screamed at the top of my lungs."

"Because the universe was so fucking funny that it had to play some sort of cosmic joke on me. Because Gege killing off that character just had to happen now!"

Up until now, we've seen her handle everything with a surprising amount of grace. We can tell that she's deeply upset by the loss of her mother, sure, but she's putting on quite the brave face. Or maybe she's simply too shocked to be anguished. yeah... definitely the second option.

"I watched the doctors rush around like I was a thousand miles away, observed from outside of my body as they tried in vain to bring [her mother] back from beyond the threshold."

"I went about my motions like I was piloting myself remotely."

"Even as I unpacked her stuff, I didn’t cry. I was just… empty, I guess. Too tired, or maybe too shocked."

"I still didn’t cry. Not when my whole world was collapsing around me."

But the moment she reads about Gojo's death, it acts as the metaphorical straw. And she's the camel.

"Unable to help myself, I laughed. I laughed so hard that my shoulders shook. And I laughed so hard that the laughs turned to sobs, and then to wails."

"I cried."

"It was ugly, and violent, and so stupid. [...] I cried for what felt like hours."

Initially, I was kind of wary of putting this chapter out into the world because of this moment. Because, yeah, her mom died, but she's going to cry over an anime character? That's the criticism I honestly expected.

"I was an idiot, losing it over some fake guy when I couldn’t even shed a tear for the woman who’d raised me. And though I tried to stop, the waterworks kept coming and coming and coming."

But it makes sense in my mind, because we humans displace our emotions all the time. We get irrationally angry or sad at things and take our emotions out on them. Have a bad day at work? Get mad and kill something on a videogame. Upset? Watch a sad movie and cry about it.

I do this with 'The Fox and The Hound' all the time! I'll put it on and just weep until my eyes and head hurt. And, man, does it feel good! Like, on the days when my emotions are going haywire, like when I'm on my period, I just want to vent.

Gojo's death isn't what makes her sad enough to finally cry, but it gives her the perfect outlet for her emotions. It's a way for her to finally experience the emotional devastation of losing her mom without touching on the raw wound itself. It's a catharsis that she so desperately needs.

Crying really does help her. Sometimes, all you need is a good breakdown to realign your axis.

"And, little by little, I came back to myself."

"In the aftermath, there was a bit of clarity, of peace. The buildup and the release of pressure. [...] Weight lifted off my shoulders and I felt a levity that I hadn’t in months. [...] I felt like I could breathe again. Like my lungs were expanding properly and my heart was beating in my chest instead of my throat."

"Turns out that crying is good for you; who’d have guessed?"

After she cries, she picks herself back up and resolves to push forward. Starting with getting her job back, then ending with possibly rekindling a relationship with her sister.

This is one of my favorite parts of this little chapter because it perfectly encapsulates the whole vibe of 'post-nut clarity'... but for sobbing like a crazy person, obviously. Like, we all have that moment after we cry where everything just sorta clicks into place.

Reader-chan, for a solid moment, is standing tall. And she's putting her own emotions and needs first.

She calls her sister, getting out of her car. And while she's leaving a voicemail, she finally meets her fate.

"But I never got to finish my ultimatum. The screeching of tires cut me off as I whirled around just in time to see the grill of a large truck barreling toward me. And then there was the sickening crunch of bones breaking and somebody screaming."

This is where the isekai truly begins. Because when she dies, she winds up in a black void. And this void is where the next chapter opens.

We have a callback to our first paragraph.

"When death strikes, it’s sometimes a long, slow cut. And sometimes, it’s swift as the blink of an eye. It does so efficiently, without remorse, and without discernment. We all die, in the end."

Keen observers may also notice that prior to being run down, the story is in past tense. Everything past getting struck is in present tense. This is to reinforce the idea that Reader's old universe and life are permanently 'was', while her new world and life permanently 'are'. A little bit of author psychology for you guys.

There's also one of my favorite side stories ever in this: 'The Saga of The Shopping Cart'!

"I scowled when one person pushed their empty cart into another parking spot instead of the cart return. Idiot."

"A gust of wind blew the loose shopping cart in front of me, and I let it cross before making my way towards the building."

"Because that shopping cart had blown onto the road, in front of a vehicle going way too fast. [...] And in a bid to avoid hitting it, the driver had cranked their wheel. And hit me instead."

I love this introduction chapter, because I feel like it gives us a solid foundation for Reader-chan. We immediately know what her motivations are, how she reacts in the worst situations, and whether or not we'll personally identify with her during the series. It also sets the tone really well, in my opinion: dark and sad with a shining glimmer of hope on the horizon.

The title, 'Unfinished Painting', is a reference to both her neglected work in her apartment and to her life being cut short before she can be fully realized.

"Every morning, I gave [the easel with her painting] a nasty side eye, wondering when I’d just get rid of the stupid thing. Maybe it’d be good to start fresh on a new piece."

"I [..] crossed over to where my easel had remained untouched [...] The painting on the canvas was half-finished, a work-in-progress that’d never quite made “progress”. It was an ambitious landscape painting: colorful sunrise breaking over the Colorado Rocky Mountains, with clouds encircling the highest peaks and rays caressing the jagged edges of the cliff faces. It’d been detailed, almost obsessively so, and vivid."

"I traced the edges of the painting fondly. It was supposed to be my best work yet. And it had been. For a time."

The parallels become even clearer when digging into the color symbolism of red paint.

"[..] in a fit of rage, I’d thrown an entire tube of red paint at [the painting]. Crimson splatters dot the scenic mountains like blood spray."

"All the hopes and dreams inside my head smear across the pavement like paint spatters on a canvas. Just a red, red stain."

But, there's also the implication that death isn't the end. That she can take this and make it better.

"The painting wasn’t necessarily ruined; I could still restore it if I worked hard."

"Maybe it’d be good to start fresh on a new piece. If I ever found inspiration to draw or paint, anyway."

When we consider that 'The painting' is acting as a parallel for her life, it essentially changes this to mean 'My life isn't necessarily ruined; I could still restore it if I worked hard.' And 'Maybe it'd be good to start anew. If I ever found the inspiration to live, anyway.'

Which all points to the idea that a fresh start is, perhaps, a good thing?

All-in-all, I'm super happy with how this turned out. Of course, that could just be my own personal bias, since I wrote it. Who can say?

#REARRANGEDfanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #read on ao3 #read on wattpad #isekai #self insert #chapter by chapter #behind the scenes #writing community #author speaks #self commentary #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x oc

23 notes · View notes